Restless as a Virtue

When It Rains...

2011-07-11T21:30:00.000-05:00

I first moved to Colorado when I was 8 years old. I am now 46. So I have had a "relationship" with the state for 38 years. I remember back in the day, the heat would build up until around 3:00 in the afternoon, maybe a little later, and then a storm would roll down the mountains. It would rain like crazy, lots of thunder, some lightning. Then the storm would end, it would be about ten to fifteen degrees cooler and we would have our typical amazing evenings. It was one of the certainties in a state/region that didn't have many.

Two years ago, we moved back here after being away for over 20 years. The pattern I was so familiar with seemed to be gone. No afternoon thunderstorm to cool things down. The cycle was broken. Until last week. Since Tuesday a week ago, we have had thunderstorms every day. The cloud quickly darkens, we hear thunder and see a little lightning. Then the rains begin. These are quick storms...it rains HARD! And then it is over. Our driveway has washed out a bit more and it is a lot cooler outside. Just like the old days. Except now, they are calling it MONSOON SEASON! I have never heard that term applied to the Rocky Mountain region before and am wondering who initiated it. "Yeah, it's monsoon season, so I'll probably have to stay in the house all week." For whatever reason, I find it quite amusing.

This season in my life is feeling like a monsoon season. It has been so long since I had any security in a job and I have spent so much of the last few years looking for work that my career seems to be job seeking. When you add in the mental issues I battle, this is the season when--just as things seem to be warming up--the thunderstorms are rushing in and washing away the drive. Heard from the rescue mission today...no job, but don't be afraid to keep watching our hiring board and apply for another job if one pops up that catches your attention. At 46, I may never get a chance at anything that looks like a "career." I'm seeing a pattern and afraid it will last until I die: work a few months, maybe even a year, at a job and then lose the job, spend months or more seeking, find another menial job, work it a few months, etc., etc., etc. Then, with no retirement to draw on, simply drop dead one day while looking for the next 3 to 15 month gig. "Yeah, it's monsoon season, so I'm probably going to be stuck on the outside looking in until the day I die." 46 feels so old, yet it seems so young to have completely lost hope.

The First Time, All Over Again

2011-06-25T19:49:00.000-05:00

I am such a prodigious blogger. I write at least two or three times a year like clockwork. Funny how things change without changing. Last time I wrote, I was out of a job. This time, I am out of a different job! I am amazingly able to keep things unstable in our family. I hate it and I really hate myself. The more times this happens, the more clearly I see that I am a "no-hoper," who will spend the rest of life trying to stave off the wolves and battling the demons. Eventually I will lose and perhaps the pain of living will end. Or perhaps I am so far off base that my suffering will only intensify. I don't know.

To make it even brighter, both of my daughters informed me today that I am a jerk because I kid around with their significant others too much. They would prefer I just stay the heck out and leave them alone. So, I guess I will comply. Which means even more withdrawal and loneliness. Gotta love being the guy at the party that everyone wishes would have just stayed home. It is awesome to not realize it until you have alienated everyone and you have to skulk away with your tail between your legs and hide in your room for a while...maybe forever. Seriously considering applying for disability and then I can just stay home and out of everyone's way. I suck. Just glad that what I have always believed is being consistently confirmed now. Lovely.

A New Week Looks a Lot Like the Previous One

2010-11-15T15:26:00.000-06:00

So the last time I posted, I mentioned the job interview. As it turns out, I got through to the final round of interviews on Thursday. Then I waited all day Friday, as they told me they would call me on Friday either way. Finally at 5:15, the call came....and....I didn't get the job. Now, as they had waited until the middle of happy hour to call me, I had figured out on my own that the job was not going to be falling to me. And that's okay; they have to hire the person they feel is best qualified and the best fit for their school. It was nice to be in the pool of finalists. Not sure where I came up short and sent an email thanking the assistant principal for the opportunity and asking for some advice for the next time I get an interview. Still waiting for the (probably not coming) response to that.

This is my second round of unemployment in the past three years. The first one came because my brain quit working and I ended up on disability. I can own that one. This one, however, is different. The first time I was unable to function and spent my days in anguish and despair from issues that were way beyond the unemployment. This time, I am beginning to feel anger. The first couple of weeks I was stunned and sad and walked around in a daze. But after this interview experience, the sadness turned to genuine anger. For almost twenty years I bounced around doing a job I hated until it finally consumed me. I longed to be out of it and dreamed of being a teacher. My friend Matt told me on Saturday that I had gone from a job that I hated on the best days to one I loved on the worst days. And now, it has been taken away for reasons that they assure me have nothing to do with my performance. To get to the final round of interviews and not get the job felt like being teased with a prize and then having it ripped back from my reach. And I HATE it! I assume I can find a job. What I can't assume is that it will be a teaching job, nor that I will love it like I do teaching. That leaves me feeling empty and enraged.

So, life goes on. It is not the worst life a guy could ask for. But it will never be the same. And I can't say that I am happy about it.

(Sorry this is kind of a mess. I thought I had it all planned out but once I started writing it down, things seemed to jumble themselves.)

This Is the Week that Is, Was, or Will Be

2010-11-10T10:49:00.000-06:00

It has been about four weeks since I found out I was losing my job and about three weeks since the job actually ended. Nothing like being blindsided, but the transition has gone better than I would have expected. My principal has reminded me--and the rest of the teaching staff--that the dismissal had nothing to do with my performance, but is a result of the inane way the state funds schools. We came up 60 students short of what we needed to make budget and someone's job had to be cut. Unfortunately, it ended up being mine. However, the school has kept me fairly busy as a sub and it usually keeps me out of the house and distracted so I'm not focused on being unemployed (or underemployed, I guess).

Yesterday I had an interview at a middle school in Colorado Springs. It was a positive experience. Not sure I blew them away, or that they will call me back for the second round, but each interview is a step in the right direction. I think I would enjoy the job, as it is a similar population to the one at my old school and I love working with the kids who have some societal/cultural obstacles in their way. I should know today or tomorrow if they are bringing me back for the next step in the process. They want to hire by the end of the week and get the person working by the end of next week. I'm glad it is that quick as waiting around to hear is really overwhelming. Never got any response for the community college job, so this is my only active option. Still looking every day for something to open up. If I don't get something full-time soon, I will be applying for some positions in the community college system in Arizona. Don't really want to live there, but these days a man has to go where the jobs are.

We bought a Jeep this week, a 1992 Cherokee Laredo. Got it from a mechanic who has maintained it well. Fun to drive and four wheel drive, which is a big plus in our little community. Not much to look at, but I am way beyond caring about that at this point in my life. I have wanted a Jeep for forever...the other one I owned had a huge engine made for pulling and got about 10 miles per gallon. This one has the inline six engine and will do some better. Just love the feel of driving this kind of vehicle. Hoping it holds up well.

Well, that is the update from here. Counting down the days to Thanksgiving, anxious to spend Christmas with our family, and especially with Emilee, and doggedly seeking work again. And life goes on.

The Drought

2010-09-30T21:59:00.000-05:00

Blogging confirms many of the poor thoughts I have about myself...especially the ones that have to do with being undisciplined and disorganized. It has been over five months since I last wrote. How does that happen? I enjoy writing, so why don't I, why can't I, write? I guess part of it could be my reason for writing. Am I writing for others to read, in the hope that they will enjoy and comment? Am I writing for profundity, that the world will be awestruck by my deep thoughts (sound of crickets chirping)? Or am I writing to help bring my soul to light and life? Perhaps if I could truly engage the my heart and soul in my writing I would write more often and more consistently.

Life is not horrible these days. I like teaching. I love the kids. I also fight the battle against anxiety on a regular basis, as I get locked up trying to plan or grade. I keep waiting for the day to come when I am exposed to the world as a complete fraud. I want to make a difference, I want to impact the part of the world I work in, I want my coworkers to like and respect me. I feel insignificant and phony. Finding peace with the demons inside me is a process I have not yet mastered. I realize I am whiny. I realize there are people in the world, students in my classroom, with real problems...the ones that aren't just self-inflicted and overinflated. Just wish I could find the escape hatch from my constant overanalysis and self-absorption. We'll see.

What is Art?

2010-04-24T13:13:00.000-05:00

Got the chance last weekend to go to Minnesota and see my daughter in her college's production of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. It was the first musical the school has done in at least a decade and I have to say that it was a lot of fun and the cast was really good. Emilee knocked it out of the park. I can't believe how much she has grown as a singer and an actress. She manages to capture the nuances of her character in ways that many at her age and with her experience are seriously lacking. She really understands, and gets how to convey, what is happening in Olive's mind. Unfortunately, that may be because she grew up with a little too much of Olive's experience.

The musical raised a question for me, however. Does a work of art (music, literature, visual, whatever) become more sophisticated if it is more profane? That seems to be the accepted truth among those "in the know." There were two different versions of the performance of this musical--one that was family friendlier and "G" rated, the other considered "R" rated. We were supposed to see both versions, but since there were no children in the audience on the opening night, they went with the raunchier version. The second night, advertised as "R" rated, had a much bigger audience and much more buzz in the theater before it started. It was generally a much younger audience. And if you were not present and just listening, you might think there were cue cards up front telling the audience when to respond with oohs and whistles. It was louder and more raucous. Which is fine, I guess.

Here is the issue, though. This story really looks into serious issues of childhood and family relationships. It explores how the pressures we put on our children affects the ways they view themselves and the way they view the way the world views them. One "boy" suffers with attention deficit issues and is convinced by his family that he is stupid. A girl senses the pressure from her dads to win, to succeed, and the devastation of coming in third causes her to believe that she has failed and that the world will hate her for it. Another is a social misfit who has great difficulty interacting with others. One girl is an overachiever who has to come to grips with how she wants to deal with expectations. Emilee played a girl whose parents are absent and at odds. She feels alone and abandoned and believes that somehow the dysfunction of her parents' relationship is her fault. These are HUGE issues that the musical handled really poignantly and with enough humor to make it bearable. Unfortunately, when they added the raunchiness, I don't think the audience was paying any attention to the real story of the play. Something was lost. Some innuendo and balanced humor make it quirky and unpredictable. Absolute profanity (especially unrealistic profanity--they were portraying twelve year olds, who swear to prove they are "big," but don't use the language in the ways demonstrated in this musical) seems to appeal to baser instincts in the audience and causes them to miss the learning moment such a treatment can create.

George Carlin was hailed as a genius for mocking society's conventions and showing how flawed we were by using the seven dirty words you can't say on television or radio. In the intervening years, society has become coarser in its language and behavior and it is no longer mocking convention to use hardcore profanity and to shock with songs about erections. Mocking convention would be doing a fantastic story like this in ways that appeal to the common decency of humans rather than the common coarseness. That's what I think, at least. I would love to hear how others respond. And if Emilee reads this, I think you were wonderful. I just don't want you to be sucked into the idea that in order to do quality work we must do work that is profane and base. I love you Olive.

Something Old, Something New

2010-03-29T12:17:00.001-06:00

How do I manage to go so long without writing? I watched a documentary of Anne LaMott's "Bird by Bird" the other night, and one of the things she emphasizes--as do many others--is to set aside time each day to write. I seem to set aside time each quarter! That said, here I am for today. Spring break has begun and I find myself needing to work and loathe to do much of anything. I am tired, nearly exhausted, and having a hard time getting my feeble brain to focus. I will, however, have lesson plans and serious direction for next quarter set up by the end of the week.

While I am enjoying teaching (usually), I am really feeling an escalation of the good old anxiety issues over the past few weeks. Not sure what is causing it, but it gets to me and becomes somewhat paralyzing at times. I find myself back to those fears of being exposed...that if the folks who employ me really knew what my capabilities are, they would fire me on the spot. Why does this thought haunt me in all facets of my life? Others seem confident of their abilities and knowledge; yet no matter how many people tell me that I am intelligent and capable, I see myself as an idiot who is fooling the world somehow and on the verge of being found out. I have to take a subject area test this summer sometime and find myself terrified that I will fail it miserably and immediately be out of work. I hate that I think like this, yet find it comes quite naturally and is difficult (nearly impossible) to purge from my brain.

That seems to be about it for today. Talk to you all in about a month!

Standardized Tests and Nonstandardized Students

2010-02-15T10:31:00.000-06:00

I have been meaning to write this for a week, but it seems other things keep popping up that are more important. You know, things like...LEARNING HOW TO BE A TEACHER!! Last Tuesday (and again tomorrow) it was my job to proctor standardized tests in the computer lab. All six of my classes spent an hour on the computers doing tests which may or may not tell us much of anything about them. My role was to act as an encourager and accountability partner while they did the tests and then review their scores with each student upon completion of the exam to see if they should take another shot at it. I am thrilled to report that my students did exceedingly well on the tests! Tomorrow, they have to take the reading section. I am sure they will be overjoyed.

The idea of sixty students taking the same test with the same teacher forced me to consider my kids as a group and also as individuals. Some sat down and knocked out the test with no complaint or delay. Others were a bit more challenging. One kept falling asleep. I woke him up three or four times during the hour and prodded him to stay with it at other times. Of course, upon completion, I discovered that he had done quite well on the test. It figures! One girl got an "average" score and wasn't happy with it. She took it again and did twelve points better. Her face lit up when we reviewed things together after her second attempt.

The moral of the story? I am required to teach in ways that give us the best chance of showing improvement on standardized tests. I love to teach because each student is an individual with a life both in and outside our classroom and our building. In one short month, I have become deeply attached to the individuals who grace my classes and the larger mosaic they are creating. It only took forty-five years for me to be allowed to do that thing for which I was created. As I reviewed repeatedly in our media literacy unit: ba da da da da...I'M LOVIN' IT!!

The Teaching Gig

2010-01-24T12:55:00.000-06:00

Two months have passed and much of life has changed. In November, I was unemployed and muddling along. Since the last post, I have been hired twice and am working in my dream job. That's right, I am officially teaching. I went to grad school with the hope of teaching in a college setting and thought that is where I would end up. The more involved in the reconciliation conversation I became, the more obvious it was to me that I needed to teach in a school that would allow me to be involved in touching lives that might otherwise be forgotten. And now that opportunity has been afforded me.

I am entering my third week teaching Language Arts at the New America School's Denver campus. Our campus is considered "high-risk" and approximately 65 percent of our students have dropped out of other schools. What I have found is a group of students who have a hard time dealing with life in the structures of "normal" American school systems but are smart and engaging when given the opportunity. Unfortunately, many of these students will likely fall through the cracks as they have involved themselves in behaviors and lifestyles that will make success difficult: gangs, parenthood, drugs and alcohol, etc.

While I love what I am doing, pretty much every minute that I am not with students is spent wondering if I am going to be exposed as a fraud...that what I have always wanted to do will prove to be more than I am capable of doing. There is so much that I don't know and trying to learn to teach on the fly is definitely a challenge. I genuinely hope this works out as I love it more than anything I have ever done. Still, there are no guarantees. The road ahead is beautiful, yet treacherous. It could be an amazing journey or a horrifying crash! Too late to turn back though; I'm on my way!

Friday the 13th

2009-11-13T14:25:00.000-06:00

Seems appropriate that I sit here to write this post on Friday the 13th, as that seems to be the day that best represents me. Yet another rejection letter from a potential employer arrived today. "We had numerous qualified candidates apply for the position. You are not one of them. Good luck at Sam's Club!" When will I ever learn to stop getting my hopes up?

I went back to school, spent a lot of money, time and effort to improve myself and get an advanced degree. Now, after having gotten the degree, I find myself further behind than I was before. No job and more debt. Lovely. What is my problem? I will be 45 in a couple of weeks and am going to start a part-time, entry-level job with no future. I fried my brain trying to be a pastor and can not return to that field, no matter what. Yet, it seems to be the only kind of work for which I am considered qualified.

I face the specter of spending the rest of my life in menial, barely-better-than-minimum-wage jobs and watching my wife work herself to death to support us. How do I face her...not just now, but twenty years from now? How can I handle knowing my kids will have to fend for themselves because their dad just isn't capable of earning a living? My oldest is already in over her head because I am not able to help her get through college, which every parent is supposed to do and supposed to be capable of doing.

My parents and my wife tell me that I am not what I see myself as. How can they not see the truth after all these years? Their investment in me seems to blind them to the reality of the situation. I offer nothing of value to this world. I hate myself and the mess I am making of the lives of those about whom I care deeply. I am so sorry to have dragged my family into this mess. I wish they could get a mulligan.

A Break in the Clouds

2009-10-13T16:39:00.000-05:00

Well, despite all my anxiety and depression, it has been a pretty good week. Last Tuesday I received a letter of eligibility to begin looking for teaching jobs in Colorado schools. While there aren't exactly a ton of openings in October, I have until January to find a job and gain entry into the Teacher in Residence Program. Then we had our church retreat and it was a really good time. At the end of the retreat, Cole and I were invited to go to the Broncos/Patriots game with a new friend from our church. We had such a great time and I will always cherish the opportunity to go to my first pro football game with my son. The look on his face throughout the game was priceless. Then today I had a meeting/interview and was added to the substitute teacher at a local charter school. So I am getting into the process and figuring out how to go for the jobs that are available. And that is a really good first step. I have miles to go before I am healthy and back on my feet but at least I am making some progress.

Halfway Through and Already Finished

2009-09-24T14:44:00.000-05:00

For most of my life my parents, my teachers, my friends, my wife have been telling me I have a lot to offer, that I bring many skills to the game, that I am filled with potential. I am now 44 and am resigned to the fact that they are all wrong. I am halfway through a race in which I have no chance at winning. Well, probably more than halfway as I don't see any way that I live to 88, but you get my meaning. There is no way I will ever make a living, provide for my family, or make a lasting and positive impact on anyone or anything. I am, to borrow a phrase from my brother-in-law, a waste of skin.

I have applied for numerous jobs in the past few months. Not only do I not get the jobs, nor the interviews, I don't even get the letter, the call or the email telling me that I didn't get the job. I have tried getting hired doing jobs that require no education like working in a bookstore or opening the door and admitting people at the YMCA and still get no response. I guess that is common in today's economy so if that were the only problem, I might be able to handle it. But because I feel the need to do something, to get out of the house and be productive somehow, I put out some feelers for doing volunteer work...and was REJECTED! Yes, that is correct folks: I am not even qualified to volunteer.

So I am middle aged, unskilled and undesirable. I am a burden on my wife, my kids, my parents, the friends I have left and there is nothing to indicate that it is ever going to get better.

Paging Dr. House

2009-09-22T14:55:00.003-05:00

SPOILER ALERT!!

I watched the two-hour season premiere of House last night, in which our anti-hero was locked up in an asylum trying to get himself together. It was an episode that hit really close to home. Not so much while he was institutionalized, as House did everything he could to sabotage himself and others, but more when he was leaving. There is a moment of hesitation when the camera shot is close-up on House's face. There is fear and uncertainty there. That is what hit me. Dealing with the first obvious symptoms of mental health issues--for me it was the first anxiety attack--is terrifying. Going through a mental disorder like depression and general anxiety is overwhelming and lonely. However, the prospect of being declared "well" and being sent back into the world to try to work and function is as scary as hell itself. Failure to handle one's problems at home alone is embarrassing enough, but what happens if the meltdowns occur again while working? What if I can't make it in the real world and end up a mental and emotional invalid, burdening my wife, my kids and our families until the day I die? What if there really is no "well," and this is who I am. Will the pressures of life reveal that more vividly when I try to go back to "normal"?

I find myself torn between my desire to overcome my fears and face down my demons and the enticing desire to hide in my house, to find some sort of work that isolates me and allows me to work from the computer in my recliner. Like House, I peer out at the future and its possibilities and I have a glimmer of hope wrapped up in a cloud of anxiety. What's next? I only wish I knew.

Done and Doing

2009-09-14T15:27:00.002-05:00

I'm about ten days out from having successfully defended my Master's thesis. I honestly did not think it would ever happen as I was pretty sure if I ever finished the text there was no way they would ever approve it. But I passed, and it was really a lot of fun. The defense with my committee was encouraging and invigorating--I really enjoyed the meeting. Go figure.

So, now I'm home in Colorado (wow, that never gets old!) and trying to discern the next step in the journey of the rest of my life. Here is what I know: I haven't got a bloody clue!!!! I really want to teach, but am unsure as to the best path toward teaching. College? That would be fantastic but at the moment seems unrealistic since there aren't a lot of communication courses offered in the area community colleges. High school? I could live with that but will have to do some extra steps to get there and am not sure how long that will take. Non-profit? I have applied to some and am supposedly still a candidate for one position but it doesn't energize me like teaching does. I just don't feel any closer to an answer than I was a year ago or two years ago. And the beat goes on.

On the church front, we have settled--at least for a season--at Mountain Community Mennonite Church in Palmer Lake. Way outside my realm of experience but it really meshes with where I am internally at this point in my life. I can be present with the group without serious chest pain and anxiety attacks which is a huge bonus. The kids enjoy it and Carol is working to figure out her feelings about it. My friend Art, back in Minnesota, wanted me to convert the church where I was pastor to a "peace church," and I let him know that was not possible. Now, however, I am a part of a peace church that is focused like a laser beam on reconciliation.

I think the most difficult thing in life right now (outside of having no money and no prospects) is the realization that people see me as broken or that they don't understand why I can't just "snap out of it" and get on with life: Finish the thesis! Get a job! Act like an adult! Man up! And to them I say, "I wish it was that easy." I don't understand why I get paralyzed and afraid. I don't know how to get beyond the anxiety and move forward with my life. I really wish I did. Still, there is a level of shame when I have to face those to whom I am intricately connected and know that they think I am dogging it and that I could do better if I would just try. Believe me, I'm trying. Sometimes the trying just about kills me. Maybe a time is coming when it gets better--in fact, right now may be better than a while back was--but I can't predict it and I'm not sure I can control it. Sorry.

So I continue to plod forward with the occasional--or maybe regular--detour. I'm terrified but holding onto a glimmer of hope that better times are ahead. It is the best I have to offer right now.

Unpacking and Repacking

2009-09-02T11:11:00.003-05:00

I pretty much took the summer off from the old blog. I felt guilty about writing here when it was such a struggle to write on my thesis. Now the writing part of the thesis is done and I am just editing while I wait to defend. So I thought I would put something up here today to get back in the habit.

My daughter Aimee is a wonder. She is encouraging and caring. She never lacks for friends, as people just love to be around her. I am amazed at the beautiful person she is. One little quirk she has is that when she needs to clean her room, she can't just straighten things up. She has to take everything out and pile it in the middle of the floor and kind of reassemble the whole thing. I think I am long overdue to learn a lesson from her.

My life is a lot like Aimee's room. Lots of clutter as I collect junk and can't seem to let things go. When I really need something, I dig around inside and usually can't find it. So, I'm trying to deal with the stresses of life, be they large or small, and I just simply can't find the resources. In fact, I can't even seem to find the mental or emotional floor, there is so much clutter.

I think it is time for me to take everything out and start over, reassembling the whole room. Not only do I not know how to deal with the stresses of life, I can't even figure out who I am or what I stand for. I'm 44 years old, grew up in a Christian home, have been a pastor, and quite frankly, I'm not even sure what I believe about God these days. A while back, Greg Boyd talked to me about how he came to a point where he had to take a season and sort out everything he had always believed about God and decide what to keep and what to discard until he got to the essential core. It was at that point that he found some level of liberation. I think I have come to that place in my life.

For the past couple of years, through two therapists and a psychiatrist who have pushed me to do hard business with God, I have managed to keep the issue pushed below the surface but it simply cannot continue this way. I have to go home and find a way to figure out who God is and where I stand before him. It won't wait and I won't get better until it happens.

Saying Goodbye to a Home that Wasn't Supposed to Be Home

2009-06-13T11:17:00.003-05:00

It's Saturday morning and I am sitting in my favorite Caribou, professing to do some work but really just trying to center my mind. It has been a full week, and this is my last Saturday as a resident of Minnesota. I am looking forward to the going home element of this move to Colorado, but have to admit that the leaving is much more difficult than I expected. There have been numerous opportunities to reinforce this strange separation anxiety this week.

First, the kids. Cole and Aimee are struggling so much with leaving the friends they have made here. Even now, Cole and Logan are running around St. Anthony somewhere (they said they were going to Walgreen's) and treasuring this last week together before we move. They are one day apart in age and have been like brothers since we first moved to Minnesota four years ago. As much as two 11 year old boys can, they genuinely love each other. You don't get those friends every day nor in every locale.

Aimee is away at her last youth retreat/activity with her Echo group from Woodland Hills Church. She makes friends easily, but I don't think she has ever had a group of friends who feed her soul like the ones she made this year at WHC. I don't know how much she will miss her small group and youth leaders (I think a lot) but I know I am having difficulty with pulling her away from this. She also has a great group of friends at school here, and one of those friends is having serious struggles with Aimee's departure. So much so that her mom is willing to help pay for a plane ticket to bring Aimee back for a week later this summer. I know Aimee and I have no doubts that she will have a whole crew of friends pretty quickly after school starts this Fall, but her story illustrates to me how many tentacles these decisions we make as parents end up having. And while I really hope to spend the rest of my life in Colorado, the timing is not as ideal as it seemed eight weeks ago.

Emilee, on the other hand, will stay and make her way in life in Minnesota. While this is probably the right thing for her, the idea of leaving her behind is difficult for us and for her. She is the girl who was going to be independent, out on her own, out of our house pretty much from the time she was about 12 years old. Now that it is reality though, it is a lot tougher than expected. My girl, the one who is wired so much like me that it is almost frightening, will no longer be within earshot. She has her own place, her own job, her own friends, her own path, her own life. I will miss her like I would miss my heart if it were removed. I am sure she has made a good decision and I support her and am proud of her. Still does not make it easy to leave. I know you read this from time to time Em, and I don't want you to feel sad or guilty when you do. I want you to know that my heart aches, but it is the ache of every father whose children have to grow up and go their own way. It is the right thing, but it is not an easy thing.

As for me, this place and this season of life have kind of grown on me. I love the Twin Cities. What other metro area has the kind of natural beauty within the city limits that Minneapolis and Saint Paul do? Lakes, trees, a mildly rolling terrain: you don't have to go away to live in wonder. Add to that an amazing diversity of people from Asia, Africa, and yes, even Europe, and it is quite simply an incredible place to live. Part of the beauty of the Twin Cities chapter of my life has been Woodland Hills Church. I love the people, I love the openness to new and different, I love the diversity, I love being a part of the Woodland Hills family. I will miss it and not entirely sure I can ever find a place like it, which makes it really tough to leave.

I will miss people. My old friends (Russ, Ken) and my once-in-a-while friends (Greg, Efrem, Marque), my cohort friends (Jenny, Chibs, Andrea, Erin, Deb) and my hang out when we can friends (Jeremy, Derek, Tahna). I will miss Jason and Lisa and those three beautiful kids. I would love to be closer to watch Ana grow up and become president of this or some other country (it is inevitable, I think...even if we have to change the Constitution). I will desperately miss the two friends who have walked with me through this rough stretch of life, Brent and Todd. Brent, if you could know how much your calls and encouragement saved my life when this fight with depression and anxiety began, you might be surprised to know that you are a superhero. And Todd, it seems like we were just getting started. I love your knowledge and your incredibly twisted sense of humor. I love your family and the times we have spent together. I love that we can both be about 13 years old together for significant stretches of time and it is perfectly cool. I am so happy for your new job adventure. I just wish it were in Colorado.

I will deeply miss Leta, my advisor and much more. She has loved on me through the frustration of not being able to write. She hasn't yet killed me, but she might before we are done! And I will miss Phil. My friend, you have become the human face of a loving heavenly Father to me. I don't know if I can fully explain it, so I will just let it stand alone. You are grace personified. Not perfection or deification, just good, broken grace. Thanks for walking the journey with me.

The capper to all this reminiscing is the picture that remains from our block. Our neighbors--next door and across the street--are wonderful Tibetan people. On Thursday night, before Carol was leaving on Friday, about 10:30 the doorbell rang. It was the younger woman and her mother dropping in to say goodbye to Carol. About twenty minutes later, the bell rang again. It was the grandmother--the one who doesn't speak English but has been one of the kindest and friendliest neighbors you could ever hope to have--and "big Tenzen" (a lot of Tenzens, this is the one who graduated 8th grade with Aimee last week) coming over to say goodbye to my wife. This little lady with the warm smile brought a scarf/shawl over and draped it around Carol's neck and over her shoulders and through her grandson told us it was a Tibetan tradition that means "good luck." She has one like it and will think of Carol when she wears it. It was a gift of love and affection, one that came with and produced tears. It is so tough to leave these wonderful neighbors. The grandmother was holding Carol's hand the other day and saying "sorry" over and over, letting us know that she was sad we were leaving. Incredible. Then she and Tenzen stood in the front yard Friday morning, waving until we disappeared down the street on our way to the airport. More tears. In fact, kind of like the tears that keep coming to my eyes as I write this. I love these dear friends and will miss them more than they can possibly know.

This is long, too long for blogging, but it needed to be written. Hope you can indulge me a little as this parting is very sweet sorrow. Next Saturday morning, I will be headed from Holly to Colorado Springs to show Emilee and Jared the sights before taking them to Denver and the airport so they can get home for Father's Day (the first time that getting home doesn't mean returning to me). It will be good, eventually. It will not be easy.

Thanks God for Minnesota. I will miss this place.

Feeling Cantankerous

2009-06-08T21:33:00.004-05:00

I have been getting requests on Facebook to join the group, "Tell Obama We're Still a Christian Nation." So, of course, to get people really annoyed, I made my status something snarky like "Joe wonders what makes a nation Christian?" Which led to some responses, some sincere and others equally snarky. I especially like the snarky ones.

Seriously though, when was this or any other nation genuinely Christian? As I stated on Facebook, nation building is about gaining power over people in this world. Living the Kingdom of God, on the other hand, is about submitting ourselves to others in the name of Jesus, living a life of grace and peace and laying down our rights in order to demonstrate the genuine love of God in daily living. Tell me then, what nation does that? What nation has ever done that? Really?

Was it the marauding armies of "Christians" who wantonly slaughtered Muslims behind the banner of the cross...you know, the cross where Jesus willingly sacrificed himself? Was it the European settlers who took advantage of their superior fire power to deceive and destroy the inhabitants they found when they landed on this continent? Was it the "founding fathers" who wrote about freedom and liberty while enslaving countless Africans for their own economic benefit, deeming them (by law) as less than fully human, enforcing breeding and separation in order to make sure those "family values" we speak so highly of were never allowed to take root among the black slaves they claimed to own? Was it the preachers in this country who justified slavery, segregation, war and brute force when it was expedient for their own success and security? Is it the United States where millions of innocent unborn are slaughtered in the womb, many for nothing more than the sake of convenience? Or is it the other side of the argument where those who "speak for life" end up murdering to make their point? Is it the churched ones who reacted to the September 11th brutality by threatening and pouring venom on anyone who so much as looked like a Muslim? The churches who sent their young men and women out to "kill some Arabs?" Is it in the evangelical lifestyle of excess and affluence, taking mission trips to other parts of the world while walking blindly past the homeless guy on the corner? Is it in the multimillion dollar church edifices that house a weekly pep rally and do little to positively touch the lives of those who live in their shadows?

(One quick note: I am not able to answer the really tough questions about war and that is not the purpose of this post. Nations do war. The problem that I see is Christians who get excited about killing anyone, including an enemy. This does not seem to be the example of the Jesus after whom we claim to be named.)

I plead guilty to living the lie for too many years. Americanism is not "Christian," any more than is allegiance to any other nation, political structure or power. But I'm trying to unlearn the things that kept me from seeing the true Jesus. You know the one: the guy who lived a life of healing and service, who was a political separatist while working to bring life and hope to those who were victims of the political structures of nations and of religion. So forgive me if I don't get too riled up over President Obama, pastor gold watch, or any of the others who seek power here. I am trying to commit myself to powerlessness as humanity sees it so I can live a life pleasing to the God who provides legitimate power.

And whether I like the president's politics or the doctor's ethics, I pledge to continue practicing seeing the unsurpassable worth of each person I encounter in this world.

Thanks!

2009-05-29T07:19:00.002-05:00

It's funny, I begged people to read my blog the other day because I wanted to get some dialogue about the whole Christian pop culture thing (the DJ urging prayer for American Idol winner which is now even crazier with Jon and Kate). It was one of the few posts in which I didn't spend much, if any, time on my anxiety and depression issues. That said, there were a number of responses about my "issues," and I want to say thanks to those who took time and were concerned enough to offer me some insight and some encouragement. I also want to update a bit.

I think the reason the post was not about my internal journey is that I seem to be doing better than I have in a long time. To the person who asked about Cognitive Behavior Therapy, that seems to be the catalyst for some real help. I have been seeing a therapist who specializes in this method/treatment and he has helped me face down some of the fears that were keeping me in turmoil. I have not had an anxiety attack in a couple of months (give or take) and have been doing well enough that the psychiatrist agreed to step me off the depression meds, which she believes weren't helping me much anyway. I know it is early and that this taking thoughts captive thing is a process that has to continue for a much longer time, but I am amazed at how much better things are going. Outward circumstances are still crazy: my grandma's health is still uncertain, we have to travel again this weekend, my thesis is still trying to be written, our oldest is moving out Monday, next week is the final week of school for the other two kids, Carol leaves for Colorado on the 12th, and we load up and head out on the 18th. Still no jobs, although Carol may be interviewing with a school in Colorado Springs in the next few days. So it isn't that life has miraculously gotten less crazy for us. But the way I do life is significantly changing.

So, again, thanks to those of you who took time to respond. I appreciate your concerns and your prayers. I hope someday to pay it forward to another person who has ended up at a similar place in their journey.

Grace and peace to you all.

Catching Up

2009-05-24T16:21:00.003-05:00

It has been awhile since the last post. Life has been crazy. First I got really sick with bronchitis, the cough from which is still hanging on. In the middle of that, my grandma in Missouri fell and broke her hip and was not doing so well. This led to a whirlwind trip to Missouri and back this week. In the midst of all that, I have been trying to do some writing with very mixed results as well as finishing the Basic Communication course I was working in and trying to find work for next school year...so far an unrealized dream. All that to say that writing on a blog hasn't been a high priority lately.

First, the annoyance. While I was in Missouri I had some Christian radio station on in my car. I could not believe it when the woman who was hosting in the morning spent about five minutes explaining to everyone listening that they should remember to pray daily for the guy who won American Idol earlier in the week, that he would be under a great deal of pressure in the year ahead! GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Laying aside the fact that I don't get why people are so into shows like this, what pressure is there in having your fifteen minutes of fame in the world of pop culture? This is insane! Pressure is losing your home. Pressure is facing torture and genocide. Pressure is fighting cancer or some other life-altering disease. Pressure is your child missing or your wife leaving. When someone goes on a stupid TV show and gets a recording contract from it, this is not pressure. So, go ahead and pray for this pop culture creation if you want, I'll hold my prayers for victims in Darfur, people who are homeless because of the economic crash and my friend who lost his wife to cancer a few weeks ago. Come on people, grow a brain!

Second, the realities of moving are setting in. Found myself in tears numerous times today as I shared in the worship encounter that is Woodland Hills Church. Quick tangent...WHC is going to open its doors in August for use as a homeless shelter. What megachurch is doing stuff like that? Another, among the many, reason I love this place. Leaving our church behind is among the most difficult parts of moving. Where else can I see a woman with Downs Syndrome dancing and raising her hands while we sing the Kirk Franklin song, "Imagine Me," on a typical Sunday morning? Woodland Hills has transformed church for me in this past year. It is hard to think of being 1000 miles away. Add to that the sorrow of saying goodbye to our daughter and parting with friends like Todd and Dawni and it is with a serious mix of emotions that we leave.

Finally, the thesis is coming along slowly. I am doing some analysis that I hope will be acceptable and demonstrate some level of intellectual credibility. Pray for me. I am pressing forward and will finish this. Or it will finish me. Either way, it will be done!

Congrats to Jenny, a friend from grad school, on making a huge life transition and moving to the Dominican Republic to teach this summer! I am so proud of you Jenny. I pray it is the continuance of the revolution that has become your life.

Backsliding and Back on the Horse

2009-05-09T06:57:00.001-05:00

Sorry for that last post. Things piled up and I reverted to the old way of dealing with them. I really want to be committed to a new way of thinking and responding. So if you read the (now deleted) entry, I apologize. Now let's see how today goes!

Passing Scene

2009-04-27T08:11:00.004-05:00

Some observations from a great day of worship at Woodland Hills yesterday. It was so good, I went twice!

1. I saw God yesterday. He was wearing a purple vest and an usher name tag. I was moved as I watched this guy, who has a familiar face but whose name I don't know, walk in with two women with pretty severe physical disabilities. The first one, he wheeled in in her wheelchair and found her a quality seat, even though the service was well underway. Then he went back out and walked in another woman who struggled along with a walker. It wasn't that he "showed" her a seat, he put his hand on her back affectionately and steadied her walker all the way to the seat he had picked out for her. He was love personified. I don't know this guy, but I see him all the time. I will never be able to look at him the same.

2. Some of the songs were tough for my voice to get around yesterday. Familiar songs with slightly varied arrangements in vocal ranges that were unfriendly to my voice. In the middle of it, I had a thought. Seems like we write songs and go looking for voices that can sing them. What if we listened to the voice and then wrote songs that fit the voice? Would everyone have a "good voice"? How much of life would be better if we first "listened to the voice?" Instead, it seems we create standards and go looking for people who can live up to them. Most people can't. I can't.

3. My heart's desire has been to go back to Colorado. For twenty years, Carol and I have tried to find a way home and nothing has ever worked out. Now it is happening, we're moving in June. I am experiencing a deep happiness at the prospect. Unfortunately, it means leaving behind a church where God really lives with scarred human hands and feet. I don't know if anything like it exists anywhere else. Greg is a good teacher and I can podrish his sermons. Unfortunately, the other parts of Woodland Hills can't be experienced online. It is a unique place where broken people put other broken people first and live out the love of Christ in really tangible ways. It is so big that nobody knows your name...except everyone does.

Making progress on the thesis. I'm pretty excited about where it is going. Hopefully in the next week a big chunk will fly out of my computer...a big chunk of my thesis, not a big chunk of my computer!

Pretty bummed about my Broncos. Finally going to be able to watch them every week next season and they will be unwatchable. As usual, my timing is impeccable.

Balaam and Me

2009-04-19T13:53:00.002-05:00

While this probably won't be the bestseller on the level of Marley and Me, it pretty much sums up what has been running through my head for the last several hours. The Old Testament tells the story of a prophet named Balaam who had real trouble making wise decisions. Just when one of his bad choices was about to cost him his life, God began speaking to him through the lips of his donkey, or as the King James Version says, "his ass." Preachers for generations since have used the illustration of God speaking through an ass to make points with their congregations and shock people into seeing how God can speak in unusual ways. What no one has ever seemed to consider is the possibility of Satan doing the same thing.

This morning was the latest of many examples of my speaking like an ass. My daughter was running later than I wanted her to be in getting ready to go to worship and teaching at our church. To "encourage" her (read, "manipulate"), I puked out this lovely line: "See you at lunchtime, cause their is no way you're getting to Woodland Hills on time." I adore my daughter and want the very best for her, so where in the world does a snarky, stupid statement like that come from? I usually blame it solely on myself, but the class on spiritual warfare is at least teaching me that I have a partner in this kind of behavior. I allow myself to be Balaam's ass for less than noble purposes. Yes, Satan is speaking through an ass, and it seems that the ass is me.

Fast forward now to the service at Woodland Hills this morning, in which Greg is teaching on using our imagination to truly connect with God. I sat and gave mental assent to everything he was saying, all the while realizing that my imagination has been almost solely devoted to my destruction, to driving me away from God all these years. Oh, not in a "Satan-worshiper, ouija board" kind of way, but rather imagining me as an object of scorn and wrath, someone who will never genuinely connect with God because God knows that I am lowlife scum of the earth. See how difficult it is to imagine yourself in love with and being loved by God when you can't stomach the images you see in your mind of the kind of person you are? Not easy. But these are the voices and images I deal with moment by moment, nearly every day, and have for as long as I can remember. It's really no wonder that my brain and emotions finally short-circuited and have left me paralyzed inside.

My brain is busy, it is full. Unfortunately, what it is busy with and full of are generally crap. Stuff so trivial and so wrong-minded, that what comes out (verbally and nonverbally) is usually embarrassing and hurtful. And to sum up part of the teaching this morning, it isn't going to get better by simply trying harder to be better or even to think better. I forgot to turn off the faucet and now the stuff is overflowing. Before my mind and my spirit can contain anything good, I need to begin to bail, to create space. I think that is my primary need and purpose as we begin this six week "Animate" journey together at Woodland Hills. I have to create space by emptying myself of some sources of prejudice against myself in order to really imagine me being intimate with and loved by God.

So, here is the basic agenda for the days ahead: start unloading. First, I need to stop using the internet as a crutch to distract me and keep me unfocused. I have to cut down on my idle usage of this wonderful land of make-believe. Along those lines, I really must pare down the amount of time I spend using entertainment technology. I don't need to watch everything that is on TV, in fact, I don't need to watch much of what is on TV. Once I hear one sports talk show, I have probably heard them all, so I don't need the noise and clutter of constant radio blab. My physical appetites create grief because I sit and eat...not celery and carrots, for sure...and gain weight, which reinforces just how much I hate myself. So I need to create some space by eating to live, not living to eat. The sitting simply compounds my basic lethargy, so in order to create physical and emotional space, I really have to start moving and "resisting" (using resistance training to build some physical strength). The journey of imagination begins not with filling up with more stuff to imagine but rather reimaging by creating space for the realities of a new imagination to dwell. Convoluted? Probably. But I think I understand what I'm trying to say. I'll keep you posted as to how it works out.

Solo, Unauditioned.

2009-04-14T00:31:00.004-05:00

And here I sit, far too late for a guy my age to be up and yet unable to sleep. It has been an eventful week or so, with a trip to Colorado thrown into "normal" life just to keep things interesting. After having to duck out of yet another group meeting because the anxiety was just too much to take, I have come to a realization: I travel alone. Mostly not by choice.

Here's the deal. I have friends and acquaintances all over the country and even in other parts of the world. It is always good to catch up and even get the opportunity to hang out once in a while when our paths cross. However, the longer this anxiety mess continues, the fewer friends I have who really look forward to seeing or hearing from me. My problems have worn them out. When I first had my meltdown and as I began this weird journey, there were many people who walked with me, and for that I am eternally grateful. But as time goes on and I can't seem to get straightened out, I think it just takes too much energy for people to deal with me. I understand, as it is increasingly difficult to deal with myself.

My wife is tired and out of answers. My kids suffer from the uncertainty of a dad who is a basket case. And the biggest kicker of them all is that as I seem to sink further into myself, fewer people want much to do with me, which reinforces the sense of isolation and depletes the motivation to be among people. It is so much easier to hide at home and to continue to shape the couch cushions around my butt.

While I don't struggle with thoughts of suicide...first of all, I am far too cowardly, and second, I don't want to cause my family the trauma that comes with it...I admit that most days I wish there was a way for me to just die in peace and relieve my wife, my kids and the friends I have left of the burden that is dealing with me. I hate feeling this way, but the days in which I can see any light are so few and far between. There comes a time when you have been kicked in the gonads enough times that you just want the pain to stop; when you have seen those who used to embrace you avert their gaze when you come around and you really want to quit being a burden, stop being "poor, sick Joe." If only I could disappear and everyone could move on.

I read a story many years ago, I think it was by Bob Benson, about a man who was constantly searching or seeking for God. At first, everyone was excited about his search, but as it dragged on year after year, people began to distance themselves from him as no one had the energy to listen to him talk about his desire and his inability to become convinced of the truth of God. That's how I feel about my mess. Most of the world is just plain weary of listening to me and dealing with me.

I'm sorry. And I don't like it myself either.

Say It Ain't That, Pat

2009-04-02T16:32:00.002-06:00

KYLE ORTON? KYLE STINKING ORTON???? ARE YOU KIDDING ME???!!!!

The team that made one of the best trades in NFL history in 1983 has now made what will surely be one of the worst in 2009. Taking the side of a dishonest, bumbling goober of a rookie head coach from the cheating Bullychick tree is the very definition of insanity in football terms. How in the world did it come to this?

KYLE ORTON? KYLE STINKING ORTON???? ARE YOU KIDDING ME????!!!!

Nuf said.

Seven Days

2009-03-22T01:07:00.002-06:00

What a difference a week can make. Last Sunday, I wrote that we were likely going to have to move out of our house. About six hours ago, the woman who owns our house called and let me know that there is a very high likelihood that we'll be able to do another lease for a year. So, it looks like we have a place to live and at the moment of her call, that seemed like a great gift and a tremendous relief. Funny how we are able to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory though.

I admit that I have spent a good chunk of the past week looking for housing and jobs, both here and in Colorado Springs. Carol and I have wanted to move back since we left more than 20 years ago and this looked like the season in our lives that made the most sense. But with the pressure of our housing lifted, Colorado seemed to take a step back. Except our hearts, and particularly Carol's heart, didn't get the memo. I knew she was happy to think about being back near family and close to the mountains, I just didn't realize how much it was getting into her system. She really wants to move "back home," whatever home is. (That is a post for another time, as it would take loads of space.)

So, I'm back to stuck. My kids want the stability of being here with their friends, in their schools, surrounded by familiarity. My wife wants nothing more than to be near her parents and brother and to have some emotional support after a year (and probably a lot more than that) of enormous pressure and responsibility of having to babysit me and make sure we are able to survive, financially and emotionally. She is tired, worn out, and in need of a change of scenery. If you are new to our story, you may not understand the gravity of that statement. I am the one with wanderlust. Carol has always wanted a place to settle in and put down roots. It seems that this is not the plot of ground she had in mind.

While we don't have to decide right now, and perhaps the decision will be made for us--you may have noticed that jobs are not easy to come by these days and a move would require some sort of gainful employment--my wife's needs and desires are important to me and I want desperately to figure this thing out. We'll see what is next, I suppose.

In Need of a Place to Live

2009-03-15T14:48:00.003-06:00

Just a quick note today to ask for your prayers and for help in looking for housing. The house we are renting here in Minnesota is probably going to go on the market this summer to pay for the owner's impending long-term care. No way we can buy it, so it looks like we're going to need a place to live. We would like to keep the kids in their schools here so would like something in this specific area. However, if we don't find a place and have to transfer them, we will probably look at Colorado Springs so we can get back to the mountains after twenty years away and also be close to family for the first time in quite a while.

Let me know if you are aware of anything (house, duplex, townhouse, apartment; 3 bedrooms or more and preferably will take our dog) in the St. Anthony, New Brighton, Columbia Heights area.

Thanks.

The God Fantasy

2009-03-07T20:48:00.002-06:00

Writing has always come easy to me, so imagine the frustration that accompanies a mental incapacity for putting words on a page (or a screen, which is more accurate in this age) for weeks at a time. I read through these blogs that I write and am amazed that what used to be an idea now and four or five paragraphs fifteen minutes from now has become a several day process. I think of something and wrestle with it and sit down to write and nothing comes out. I put all this out there to say, the entries are pretty few and far between because writing has become difficult and the mental energy that I am able to muster to do any writing really should be channeled toward finishing the thesis that refuses to write itself. But for tonight I am back because something really bizarre came out of my experiences today.

First, the background. I am doing my thesis using Fantasy Theme Analysis as my methodology. Fantasy themes arise in groups when members use narratives (stories) of people in a different setting--not in the here and now--which create a sense of resonance among the group and many/all members begin to share that fantasy (fantasy in the sense of the way something is mentally presented as reality rather than as a lurid dream), creating a "chain" reaction. Fantasy themes can grow and connect with other themes to create a type. Enough people, sharing enough types will cultivate a "rhetorical vision," a shared reality for a large group of people described as a rhetorical community.

Next, the setting. I have, for the past year plus, struggled with anxiety attacks. Trying to write on my thesis this week has been a constant battle of chest pain, shortness of breath, my brain racing and struggling to focus and general despair. That said, I finally handed in a few pages of writing/research and that is something of an accomplishment, I suppose. Today, we had extra kids and extra activity in our house and I have an ill wife. Also, as I wrote a few entries back, I seem to have a heightened acuity to sensory stimuli...touch, feel, and especially noise. It is as if I can "feel" the noise on and in my body. So by mid-afternoon I was going crazy and decided to get out of the house and go to a coffee shop and try to study and write there. I spent two hours of intense concentration on fantasy themes. And then, since Carol is sick and probably won't be going out tomorrow and because there will be less chaos at home and thus a better opportunity to write here (at the house) tomorrow, I went to the Saturday evening service at Woodland Hills. So, there is the subtext of this plot: lots of iced tea, focus (as much as is possible) on fantasy themes, and moving into a scene of group worship.

The group that led worship tonight is one that has been a consistent struggle for me to find an attachment, any sense of oneness in worship. I started out a year ago thinking, "Aren't they fake!" In the year that has passed, God and Greg have helped me change that thinking. It is not my place to pass that sort of judgment and there is a very high likelihood that they are not fake, but simply a little difficult for me to connect to stylistically.

Understanding these things, and with my brain filled with fantasy theme stuff, I found myself (consciously) doing Fantasy Theme Analysis on the fly during the music part of the service. See, the theme that seemed to be coming from the front was a theme of "expressive worship" and those in the lead were doing everything they could, using verbal and nonverbal means, to bring those in the auditorium along with them to a place of resonance with this theme. Again, I am not trying to judge motive, just making a communication based observation that I would never have noticed before. I admit that this line of thought created a bit of an "existential crisis" for me. What if "faith" is nothing more than a series of fantasy themes (expressive worship, social ministry, contemplation and liturgy, etc.) chaining out and creating fantasy types (charismatic, mainline, denominational, non-denominational, etc.) until a rhetorical community (Christians) is formed around a rhetorical vision (God). What if the entirety of our faith is nothing more than a simple act of easily critiqued and analyzed communication? I am freaked out.

The only answer I can provide for myself at this stage is the most basic answer, one that sounds like circular reasoning, but it goes something like this: the only answer to a faith that is nothing more than a rhetorical construct is...faith. If I believe that behind all of these fantasy themes and types is a genuine God who really is worthy of our worship and devotion, who really has the power to create worlds and renovate lives, then God as rhetorical vision is only part of the equation. Not sure how to make sense of all this exactly, but it is what is racing through my seriously furious (not angry) mind right now. Any thoughts?

Symptoms or Semantics

2009-01-22T10:38:00.002-06:00

My friend responded to my last post with a comment that I was isolated, estranged, detached. I have been wrestling with those words in the days since. They are certainly descriptive of some of the symptoms I seem to be experiencing, but I'm not sure they are the core or the heart of the matter. I have come to believe that the word that best describes my life right now is dissonant. There are so many contradictory things going on that it can be really unnerving.

The days often seem to pass in a fog, with many lost hours and experiences. However, in the midst of this numbness is an acuity that is uncomfortable. I feel my skin, I feel the air pressing on me, every physical ache is intensified. Every negative thought is magnified (which is not altogether uncommon for me) and it seems I am far more aware of every physical, mental and emotional craving. One of the worrisome things about all this is that while I have heightened sensitivity, I don't seem to have any better understanding of how to interact with these issues. So I live with this conflicting blurriness and clarity.

I desperately want to be involved, yet find motivation for involvement lacking. When the motivation is present, it seems the opportunity often isn't. Life sometimes feels completely random or haphazard, while at the same time seeming to be very orchestrated--whether for the good or the bad. So I live with both the feeling of restraint at being someone's puppet and the terror of being in free fall.

I am going to stop here for now, as I don't have any significant conclusions to apply. Just writing out my conflicting thoughts to see if they provide a map for the journey in any way. If you have any thoughts or suggestions, I would love to hear/read them.

An Undesired Anniversary

2009-01-16T13:50:00.003-06:00

I am coming to the anniversary date of the onset of anxiety attacks and the past 24 hours have been a constant reminder of their presence in my life. This is not where I expected to be at this point and I can't say that I appreciate this "learning experience" every moment of every day, but it is indeed a learning journey. So, while this blog is not supposed to be primarily about my mental and emotional struggles, I think it is important to look at what I have been learning.

Throughout my life, I have been the ultimate multi-tasker, or the ultimate ADD sufferer...depending on your perspective. I have always thrived when I had multiple plates in the air, multiple tasks on the to-do list. I couldn't read just one book, I had to be working on five or six books at once. I have never been satisfied in jobs that involved a daily, unchanging routine, I needed variety in life. I craved options. As I review the past several months, though, what I discover is that options and uncertainty are causing me extreme anxiety and distress these days.

I really want to get a job. We need the income, my wife is really tired as the pressure of bringing in enough weighs her down, and I would really like to feel like I am accomplishing something of substance rather than sitting at a computer staring at Facebook for hours on end. I find, however, that when I go to a website full of job listings, I feel overwhelmed and paralyzed. I'm sure there are jobs available for me, I just can't get past the list of openings without my chest seizing up and my brain going into rapid descent. This leads to more problems with the depression and anxiety as it reminds me that I'm broken and not feeling any closer to fixed than I was when this whole mess began.

Then there is the daunting process of writing the dreaded thesis. I have never struggled to write--in high school and undergrad I could write five page papers after just reading a book jacket--but I can't seem to focus enough to do any writing on my thesis. I read and study and I love what I am learning. I just can't get it to transfer from my brain to my fingers. Others tell me to write in short sessions or smaller bites, but I can't seem to get my brain around where to start. Again, the sinking feeling of being overwhelmed and paralyzed envelopes me and I find myself sitting and staring at a stack of materials and a blank document on which I am making no progress. I can write one entry on my blog, although it takes a lot more effort than it used to, but I can't organize my thoughts enough to write a paragraph or even a sentence academically.

It is both frustrating and terrifying. I wonder when/if my cognitive abilities will ever return. It is a dark and desperate place in which to live. I cry out to God and hear nothing. I talk to my psychiatrist and she tells me I'm doing better, but why don't I grasp that? My friends and mentors try to help me but I seem to be burrowing into a deeper hole every day. Where is the end? When have I learned enough to get out and move on? I wish I knew.

There is one wonderful/terrible realization to report: I am far less judgmental of others struggling with these kinds of issues these days. There was a woman in our church twenty years ago who had times when she couldn't leave the house and life was a constant battle for her. I remember thinking, and hearing others comment, that she was weak or that she was in some way sinful and thinking less of her. After a year of living a portion of her terror and lostness, my heart goes out to her and others like us who can't seem to defeat "the demons." It can feel like a journey which has a beginning but no known ending and no map or compass to give you direction as you travel. I would not wish this existence on anyone.

I probably know at a deeper emotional level that God loves me and that I really want to love him too than at any point in my life. The queer thing is, it doesn't take care of the symptoms. I have a greater appreciation of my wife and our kids than ever before, but still find myself alone and under the covers at times because I can't handle the relational end of things at the moment. Maybe someday this will make sense. Maybe.

Is Jesus Coming on a Cloud of Excellence?

2009-01-08T15:52:00.003-06:00

After a holiday hiatus, it is time to post again. I haven't been teaching for most of a month and study on my thesis continues to drag on, so finding things to write about has been a bit of a challenge for me. I will say that it was so good having family around for several days between Christmas and New Year's and I'm thankful that we got a chance to see each of them and get to know some of the nieces and nephews that we don't see often. Thanks for coming everyone!

Went to a monthly lunch meeting today with a group of people who have interest and passion in seeing reconciliation happen. We start with about 30 minutes of prayer together each time we meet. It was the prayer time that has me thinking today; specifically, the prayers of a couple of people, neither of whom I know very well. So, let me put in the disclaimer that I am only evaluating words and making no statement about the heart or motive of these two gentlemen. The fact that they want to be part of this group and make a difference in North Minneapolis is commendable.

The first guy kept praying that we would be ready when Jesus comes to North Minneapolis, as if he is in some way absent right now: "Jesus is coming and we need to be ready to assist him when he gets here." After more than three years of working with ministry types on the northside, I can testify that Jesus is alive and well in North Minneapolis. There are Christ-following men and women who are giving their lives, day-by-day, moment-by-moment, to be his hands and feet in a community that is hurting. This kind of statement exposes our biases about urban centers. There is a common misconception that inner-cities, perhaps because we read of violence in these areas so often, are more sinful and lacking hope or light. However, having lived in suburban and rural communities all my life, I believe that there may be more hope for our cities than there are for some other parts of our country.

I would invite you to spend some time in a small town in a rural area. Pay attention to how many problems there are with drugs (especially methamphetine) and alcohol, the amount of domestic violence and abuse, the number of teenaged girls that are pregnant, and then see if the view remains the same. Add to that the tendency of small towns to deny or hide their troubles, the prevalence of empty religion and moralism, and a general sense of boredom and you can see that Jesus faces some sizable obstacles in these areas too.

Perhaps the journey could then lead you to the suburbs, land of excess and affluence, McMansions and malaise. The lack of contact with reality has a numbing effect on people in these communities. Until the past several months, the financial hardships that define our urban core have had very little bearing on the suburbs. So the security net of comfort, the accumulation of and addiction to stuff, the need for bigger houses and newer SUV's create a shell around the suburbanite that rejects the calling of the quiet voice of God. Maybe, and only maybe, those outside the city limits have fewer obvious problems (teen pregnancy, violence, drugs, etc.) but they share the same aversion to God that those in other communities do.

North Minneapolis needs people to be committed to living out Christ's kingdom on the ground, but so do every small town and every suburb in our world. Jesus isn't "coming," Jesus is present and he is working in big ways and small to restore each of these communities and bring them to relationship with him.

The other troubling prayer was one which kept emphasizing "excellence." Somehow excellence is the key to effective ministry for Jesus, and if we don't pursue excellence, we aren't following Jesus. Not sure where we fell into this flawed way of thinking, but it is so pervasive in evangelical circles and on the shelves of Christian bookstores as to be troubling.

I won't go into a huge amount of detail, but if one just begins with Matthew 1, I think the excellence ideal is blown away. When we consider the bloodline of Jesus, it is a tribute to messiness, to a lack of excellence. Abraham? Mess. Jacob? Mess. Rahab? Mess. David? Mess. Israel in general? Mess. Yet from this flawed stream of contributors, God presented the world with Messiah. Jesus had three years of public ministry which would probably not rate high on the excellence scale of today. He hung out with those whom society would encourage avoiding: tax-collectors, prostitutes, unstable fishermen--you name it, they were a part of his entourage. He built no buildings and had no viable programs for soul-winning. He drifted around from small town to small town, stirring things up as he went but often leaving no tangible evidence that he had been there. Executed as a criminal, abandoned and betrayed by those he considered his closest friends, and buried in a borrowed tomb...wow, what a portrait of non-excellence. No, I think the evidence is pretty overwhelming: Jesus was messy and his was not a model of ministry excellence by human standards.

I think we should do our best, give great effort when we put ourselves into places where we can be of use in ministry to people for the kingdom of God. That said, there may be more genuine affect in real human lives by messy ministry than by professional excellence. I don't want to plan to fail, but I don't want the success of Jesus to hinge on my excellence.

Just a couple of thoughts.

Blessed Are We

2008-12-25T13:12:00.003-06:00

Took the dog out for a Christmas run today. It was definitely her favorite present and it gave me time to think. It has been a strange week, filled with reminders of the finite nature of this world and the thin line between life and death. It brought together some things in my mind that have been bouncing around for weeks now but not really gelled into coherent thoughts. Hopefully this will be coherent.

As God has been working on me in the past several months, I have had to determine what it is I truly value, where I find my meaning and purpose. While I have never been terribly committed to their teaching, this has brought a new awareness of prosperity preachers and a revulsion to the message they promote. So I want to raise a few questions, some from real-life circumstances, others just true to experience, to illustrate what I think are the shortcomings in this belief system.

If we believe that health and prosperity are the direct result of having the right faith in God, how do we comfort the college student who goes from healthy and happy one day to hospitalized and in need of a kidney transplant the next? What do we say in answer to her questions about the goodness of God when she has lived the Christian life as she has been taught it and now, with a recent engagement and in the middle of the Christmas season, life is turned upside down and she is forced to deal with her own mortality and the possibility of a chronic medical condition which places unnatural limits on her life?

If we believe that those who truly love God and give generously to his church will be given everything they need financially, what is our response to the 62 year old doctor who has foregone the country club and extravagant vacations to give to the poor and do medical mission trips for the last thirty years. What do we say when he tells us he was looking forward to retiring in a couple of years and spending the remainder of his life serving the sick, the poor, the broken and destitute in some of the most poverty-stricken regions of this world, using his knowledge as a doctor and his passion for Christ as a means of bringing hope to the least among us? How do we explain that thirty years of retirement savings have been swallowed up in one quarter of economic downturn and disaster and that retirement for him is now a pipe dream?

If we believe that we really can have our best life now, how do we face a father and his children who have had to say goodbye to their beloved wife and mother on Christmas Day, as she finally was not able to win the battle with cancer. Is there comfort available to them that won't trivialize the suffering that she experienced and the pain they feel so deeply now? What words do we have for the sons who won't have their mother at their high school graduations, to the daughter whose mother will not be here to help plan her wedding, to the husband who will someday hold grandchildren and feel deep sorrow that she cannot be with him to experience this unique and remarkable joy?

Jesus told us that in this world we would face trials of many kinds, that there would be suffering. This wasn't some promise to get us excited to test our mettle against the hardships of life; it wasn't a threat to keep us from stepping over the line and feeling God's wrath as a result of our poor choices and behavior; it is simply a statement of fact. We live in what can best be described as a war zone, where forces beyond our comprehension are at work to bring us into submission and destroy us, while God is meeting them at every turn and fighting on our behalf. Our world is at war and in war, there is suffering. It seems that the greatest pain in war is experienced by those who survive. For those who die while fighting, the war is over. The ones who live through the death and destruction carry scars that remain throughout their lives and the everyday events of human existence can often touch the sensitive spots of those scars and bring great pain from out of the blue. So how dare we make light of the war, the suffering, the scars and pain that others carry with them by implying that if they somehow had only fought their war better, they wouldn't be suffering like this today? Where do we find support for this distorted view of life?

Perhaps the best answer to these difficult questions is in Gabriel's greeting to Mary: "Fear not Mary, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women." You see, we have misconstrued God's blessing for American benefits. The real message of Christmas, the true meaning of the kingdom is that the blessing is the presence. While I can't prove this with any linguistic study of ancient texts, it does seem consistent with the pattern of scripture: the blessing of God is that He is with us, not that He gives us stuff. And if that truly is the point of the blessing, it is perfectly rational to say, "Fear not my friends--in sickness and in health, in life and in death, in prosperity and poverty--God is with you. Blessed are you."

Merry Christmas. Jesus is Emmanuel. God is with us. Blessed are we.

I Love Woodland Hills

2008-12-21T16:15:00.003-06:00

Another Sunday, another chance to fall in love. I find myself so excited to get going on Sunday mornings these days that I can barely contain myself. I was nervous that the roads might be bad today and was really glad when they were fine. I honestly don't remember a time when I was just so anxious to get to church on Sundays. It certainly wasn't the case when I was the guy up front. So, why is that?

The gathering area is electric. When we come in on Sunday mornings, the sense of anticipation is palpable. It may not be a place where everybody knows your name, but it certainly does seem that everyone is genuinely glad you're there. Not only that, but it seems that everyone around is glad to be there too. From the greeting at the door, to the small gatherings of people all over the room having intimate (and sometimes boisterous) conversation, to the person handing out bulletins at the entry to the worship area, the whole place just screams: WELCOME HOME!!!

The music is amazing. My heart starts to beat a bit faster when I see Norm head up to the stage area and get things going. There is something about his spirit, his attitude, his openness, that make it a joy to sing along with him. Add to that the fact that there are high-quality musicians up there, but they are not focused on production values, but rather on leading a bunch of people to a better experience with God. I love this. Even when I don't know the songs or am not really into the style (which is pretty rare), I love the feeling of worship with this group of people.

Greg is awesome. I've never been in a church where week after week I find resonance with the preaching. Greg Boyd is an incredible teacher and really smart. He also has a refreshing sense of love for and being loved by God. Add that to the fact that he is willing to be vulnerable and real and to play the doofus at times...I love knowing that this guy is my pastor.

It looks like God here. I look around and see people lost in wonder. I see people of various ages, races, economic standings and cultural backgrounds with this in common: we all meet God here through the worship experience and through the presence of His Kingdom in this body. Today I watched the woman who does the sign language interpretation as she danced while signing. I love that! Then I noticed the guy in the worship choir today who came on stage in a wheelchair and stood to sing with the help of a walker. And this is normal life at Woodland Hills. People dance, they sing, they raise and clap hands, they shout and cheer, they pray and they give. Occasionally they even break into a conga line! I see Jesus here, partying and praising for all he's worth.

I've been at Woodland Hills for about nine months and have seen my faith expand even as my life circumstances become less certain. I am thankful that there is a church like this and that I am fortunate enough to be a part of it.

The End of the Class as We Know It

2008-12-03T08:08:00.002-06:00

We're down to one week and what a journey it has been. Yesterday's class was a great snapshot of what this semester has been and what teaching probably looks like. We went in with a plan and a schedule for the one hour, forty minute classroom encounter. The first five to ten minutes went just about as planned. Yeah, the first 5 to 10 minutes. Then things began to get interesting. The first group was supposed to debrief for about fifteen minutes, but it became a half-hour of digging deeper, helping them to figure out who they have been and become throughout this "family" experience. While it wasn't in our plans, it was a great benefit to the family group and the class. When added to the second family debriefing, about 2/3 of class was gone and we hadn't lectured or discussed the final. And we never did.

One student had a question during the break about how you find things to talk about after you're married. This grew to a discussion with his family group and finally took over the remainder of the class time with the whole class. It was an amazing opportunity to use the things we learned over the course of a semester as a lens through which to view family life in the real world. Not exactly where we intended to go, but what a great learning/teaching interaction.

This means that on Thursday, we have to do a quick walk-through of the final exam so the students can work on the exam together for the rest of the class. Again, not the idea we entered with, but worth it if this class becomes something more than some credits on the transcripts of twenty graduating seniors.

Reconciliation, Transaction, and Restoration

2008-11-24T16:20:00.002-06:00

I am still in the process of writing my thesis. I am researching and writing about reconciliation (more specifically, racial reconciliation) as a rhetorical movement. It is a fascinating study, seeing the ways words create, define, and in many ways ARE a movement. In the course of research, I am reading a book called Hegel's Social Philosophy: The Project of Reconciliation. It is entirely too thick for me, but I do understand about every fifth sentence! This book, however, has prompted me to write what I have been wrestling with for quite some time now--my biblical understanding of reconciliation.

I (believe I) grew up in a church culture that defined reconciliation in transactional terms. Reconciliation is a balancing of the ledgers, making sure that we don't overspend our resources. The act of reconciliation between God and humans in the person of Jesus was simply a deposit into our account to put us at break-even. From there, the important thing in life was to keep my account balanced. When sin goes out, forgiveness must come in or else I will be overdrawn and the fee is really steep! I say I believe this was my church culture because I think there is always the possibility that I misconstrued what I was hearing. This may not have been the intellectual understanding of reconciliation in my group, but it was at least implicit in everything we learned and tried to live.

If reconciliation is transactional, then the goal is "equal rights." If I can, in a very legal sense, state that everyone has the same rights, reconciliation has been accomplished as the ledger is balanced. It doesn't take into account prior inequity but simply brings everything up to date and says, "Start here." Transactional reconciliation assuages the overdrawn by giving them a clean slate, a balanced bank statement. However, it does nothing to address the root of the problem.

I believe more and more that reconciliation is not essentially transactional, but rather is intended to be restorative. Restorative reconciliation intentionally looks at the causes of the imbalance and changes not only the account balance but also the way we think about our "spending." When viewing our relationship with God through this restorative lens, it means going deep into the roots of our separation and breaking down the barriers to heart relationship. When viewing racial reconciliation through this lens, we go beyond simply balancing the ledger. We seek to understand the pain and suffering of our brothers and sisters, to acknowledge and repent of the acts that have contributed to the inequity, and seek to live in ways that bring healing and redemption to both our individual relationships and the systems that create and support brokenness.

I'm not sure this is as clear as I would like it to be, but I hope it is the catalyst for conversation that will contribute to a genuine, passionate pursuit of reconciliation. Reconciliation that begins with Christ and extends to human relationship.

The Being of Teaching

2008-11-18T10:43:00.003-06:00

It is 10:43 a.m. Class begins at 12:35. I sit in the office looking at exam questions, listening to the staff meeting going on outside, drinking coffee and surfing a bit. Why? I have found that this place brings me peace when my insides are in turmoil. Listening to the department faculty discuss all the minutiae that goes into creating a class schedule and the competition with other departments for certain topics and courses, I have to admit I'm glad that I can sit in here and not have to go through that mind-numbing experience every week (at least for now). Still, even if I were required to attend these meetings, I love the teaching setting. I can come in when my anxiety is at its highest and just being present in this place brings me to a calmer, better place.

Today is a challenge that probably shouldn't be a challenge. Our primary purpose today is to review for the exam on Thursday. The students will have a significant portion of time to ask questions and then we will do some non-stress-inducing activity for the remainder of class--probably a video clip that illustrates a facet of family communication. A pretty easy day, but probably the most difficult day for me since the semester began and definitely since Lisa and I took over. I am terrified of answering questions in this class. I am not at all confident in my knowledge and so I anticipate being stumped when we open the floor. While it is a fear that may not have a basis in reality, it is very real in my mind this morning. It is funny, thinking on my feet and thinking out loud in front of people have always been strengths for me, but today I feel very uncertain. If I get through this, a major mental hurdle will have been overcome.

I spotted a job on the website for the state university in my original hometown. It is something that might fit me pretty well as a teacher, although they will definite look at PhD applicants first. That said, I think I might apply just to get my bearings and get my name in the mix. Of course, this means getting the thesis done sooner rather than later. That presents a challenge, but maybe a challenge is what I need right now. Taking the road of non-challenge hasn't accomplished much yet.

So, it is back to work on preparation and then on to class today. One more block in the building of a teacher.

Vocation

2008-11-14T16:28:00.000-06:00

A couple of weeks ago, I read the book Let Your Life Speak, by Parker Palmer. What a fantastic little book. Last year in The Teaching Craft class, we wrote response papers on the theme of vocation. I wrote with great certainty that not only was teaching not a vocation, but that there really is no vocation for anyone. I would just like to say, I was wrong! Of course, the caveat is that I was wrong because Palmer gave me a new definition and it is one with which I can agree.

Throughout the course of my adult life, I have had numerous jobs and ministry positions. While I have always complained about a lack of fulfillment, particularly in the field of pastoral ministry, one thing has been true. No matter what job or task I take on, I invariably end up using it as a conduit to teach. Teaching is not so much what I do as it is who I am. I love exploring new areas of knowledge with others, be they children, teenagers or adults. There is no rush quite as great as the one that comes when the lights come on in someone's eyes after helping them discover a truth that is new to them. There is nothing in the world like the "aha!" moment.

These two months in a classroom, gaining valuable teaching experience, have done nothing less than confirm my love and passion for teaching. I am honestly not sure what it looks like in the future. Still a little uneasy about the prospects of college teaching...it could kill my family and finances...but I know that whatever career path I pursue from here, teaching has to be at the heart of my occupation. Why? Because "teacher" is more than what I do; it is who I am.

Where Is My Net?

2008-11-12T13:30:00.000-06:00

So the amazing journey has taken its biggest turn to date. Yesterday was my first day of teaching the class with a "replacement" teacher, as the lead/mentor prof had surgery this morning and is out for most of the remainder of the semester. Talk about things that were unforeseen at the beginning of this internship! I have known about it for a while now and have tried to prepare accordingly, but now that the time is here...WOW!

So, Lisa is an experienced instructor and very sharp. She has the knowledge and expertise to finish out the class and do a great job. The only thing lacking for her is relationship with the students. The way this class is designed--as an experiential learning project--makes relationship vital. That is one of the places that I come in. I know the class and have gained a level of trust and respect from the students and knowledge of the students. Together, we have the makings of a decent team.

I am writing the family interactions for now and will be lecturing tomorrow. Because I don't have a "day job" and Lisa's schedule is far more hectic, I'll be keeping some office hours and meeting with students as needed. Already had one meeting yesterday and another scheduled for tomorrow. It is really cool. I spent a lot of energy and adrenaline yesterday and came home on a serious high after what felt like a perfect day. Today, on the other hand, I can barely drag myself around the house and am having difficulty focusing. Like I said, I spent a huge amount of adrenaline yesterday and it is haunting me today. Still, I love what I am doing and look forward to what lies ahead in this internship. I'm guessing it is one of the best teaching internships anyone has ever gotten to experience.

One note about the last post: While I agree with my friend Greg Boyd (gregboyd.org) that the election of Barack Obama to be the next President of the United States is a huge milestone in this country and certainly a reason to celebrate for all people--most especially people of color--I also have seen the ugly racism and hatred that have been simmering under the surface for decades now being laid bare. All one needs to do is read some of the comment forums in newspapers around the country to know that there are people who haven't let go of prejudices and bigotry and that it isn't just out there in the backwoods but it is in the most mainstream places in this country's "heartland." That is why I stated, and still hold to the opinion, that this election has the potential to be an historic launching pad for race relations but it may be the thing that most clearly defines the divisions in this country. I really hope I'm wrong and that my pessimism is unfounded.

Oooh, Look! An Exit Ramp!

2008-11-05T07:52:00.000-06:00

Taking a little side journey today, away from the teaching stuff for a bit and into the world of politics. I went into the election yesterday completely ambivalent. I have never been a fan of John McCain and I couldn't bring myself to vote for him. While not as personally turned off by Barack Obama, I don't trust the Democrats to have full power in the country so I didn't feel I could vote for him. For the first time in my life (dating back to my first vote--Reagan in 84) I went into the polling place not knowing the candidate I would select once in the voting booth. So, with misgivings about each of the two major party candidates, I placed a protest, third-party vote. Let's just say, my guy did not win. Still, I walked out at peace, knowing that I had not betrayed my conscience in this election.

I heard pundits declaring last night that the election of Obama sent a strong signal about how far we have come in the area of race relations in the United States. I wish I could agree with them. The fact is that there is one African-American governor in the country, and as of January 20th, no African-American senators. While these are not the only measures, I think it is a valid opinion to believe that this is an anomaly until proven otherwise. As a long-time conservative, it has long been my hope that the Republicans would put forward a strong African-American candidate but after watching the politics of fear and hate play out during this campaign season (first, he is not a Muslim and for those of you who would demean his heritage, yes he is Black), I don't see that happening any time soon. I thought it was heartening that people of color and young people finally had a candidate around whom they could rally (even if I don't agree with his politics) and perhaps it will engender hope for those who follow that anything is possible for them, but I think we have a long way to go before racial thoughts are placed on the back burner and people are judged for the content of their character and not the color of their skin.

I mentioned hope in the last paragraph and I think this is the most significant theme when seeking election as President of the United States. I can go back to Reagan and state with pretty solid certainty that the most consistent factor in the election of every candidate who ran on his own merits (I disregard Bush 41, as he was elected in 88 on Reagan's coattails and when he ran on his own in 92 was defeated) is principled optimism. Again, laying aside the divergent political leanings, Americans elect candidates who give them legitimate reason to hope: Reagan, Clinton, Bush 43, and now Obama. Republicans lose when they put up cranky old men like Bob Dole and John McCain and Democrats lose when they put up loony alarmists like Michael Dukakis, Al Gore and John Kerry. Wake up people, this is a communication issue and not so much a political one.

Finally, to go back to a point I have been making for months now: This election reminds me a great deal of 1992. In 92, Bush 41 had such high approval ratings that no Democrat with any realistic hope of ever being elected to the "highest office in the land" would even consider putting his/her name in the hat. Thus, when Bush's numbers started to plummet and the Dems realized that Clinton was their nominee, the general reaction seemed to be, "What in the world have we done?" They lucked out when Clinton remade himself into a viable candidate and President. This time, the Repubs looked at Bush 43's approval numbers and the strongest candidates chose to sit this one out. So, they start pushing McCain--the next old white guy in line--to the front and then, mid-summer it becomes apparent that with a strong candidate on the Repub side this would be a winnable election. Except...they had John McCain. Remember him? Keating 5 to righteous judge. Infringement on constitutional rights in the form of campaign finance "reform". Angry, seething, maverick who managed to try to pander to just about everybody during this career in the Senate and as a national candidate. Yeah, that McCain. He couldn't pull off a Clinton and now he fades into the sunset.

So, to close this one up, here is my wish list: First, I hope Barack Obama is a fantastic President and that he is able to bring sides together and lend some healing to the ugliness that divides our country. Second, I hope he is able to say no to the leftist fringe in Congress (Pelosi, Reid and their political kin) and govern in a way that says, "Yes we can." Last, I hope that in the next four or eight years, I continue to discover the untold joy of being a citizen of the Kingdom of God and get so lost in living out that Kingdom that in future elections I am untouchable. Politics won't define me any more.

Steep Grade Ahead!

2008-10-25T16:30:00.001-05:00

Another week, another new experience. This week it was grading essay exams. I got to design my grading rubric and grade two questions on the first exam of the semester. I didn't write the questions, which is perhaps a little tougher than grading your own questions. Still, the questions weren't foreign to me and it wasn't terribly difficult to determine what was essential in responding to each one. I will say, though, that the grading process was nothing like I expected it to be.

First, I can't believe how personally invested I became in grading these exams. I found myself angry, discouraged, disappointed, and at times exhilarated. While I tried to grade the questions in an anonymous and unbiased manner, I could usually tell whose paper I was looking at about a paragraph in. It was encouraging that in a month or so I have gotten to know these students well enough to recognize their individual thought processes. It was a burden, however, to keep from allowing personal feelings and expectations from entering the grading equation. I can see how that will always be a challenge when giving exams that aren't primarily objective in nature.

Then, I am anxious (not sure this is exactly the right word, unless by it I mean "experiencing anxiety") to track my attitude toward the class after this first big opportunity to see the quality of their work. There are approximately six weeks remaining for class meetings. I don't want the emotions I experienced while reading their essays to overtly (or covertly) color the way I feel toward the individual students, nor toward the class as a whole. It is important that I try to divorce my expectations going in from my behavior coming out. The classroom is still about the students learning and processing and not about me finding affirmation in my teaching brilliance!

Seeing Results

2008-10-15T14:46:00.000-05:00

As this semester moves on, I get more opportunities to be involved in the teaching process in the classroom. It is a little unnerving at times but exhilarating just the same. I am never quite sure how to prepare and if what I have prepared will fly, but it is good to try my hand at various aspects of teaching. Yesterday's experience was enlightening.

I was given the opportunity to write the family interactions and to facilitate the interaction time. There are four family units in the class and the interactions needed to be specific to each family. It was important that the topic be strong enough that the students would be able to engage and talk for about 30 minutes. The interaction also needed to spark some level of revelation to the students in their family groups about who these people they portray really are. Cliches and outrageous scenarios are a temptation; cliches because they are safe and simple, outrageous scenarios because they force students to think outside their knowledge and experience bases. So the situations have to be forceful enough to prompt conversation but realistic enough to promote genuine family conversation and communication.

All in all, the experiment was a success. Three of the four family groups ran with the interactions and broke some new communication ground in the process. Real feelings came to the surface and there was a level of intensity that indicates that the experience moved them along in the learning process. There is still a group that seems not to "get it" and that can be frustrating, but for once I am going to choose to look at the success of 75 percent of the groups and take heart!

My next assignment is to prepare and present a section of the lecture for the next chapter on Tuesday. Tomorrow is exam day, so it is just a matter of attendance. Nice respite after the high-anxiety teaching experience yesterday.

Moments of Truth

2008-10-08T09:48:00.000-05:00

It seems that each day is an opportunity for the fledgling teacher to learn something in the classroom. Yesterday we spent the majority of class in family groups in interaction. After the interactions, each group discussed what had taken place in their sessions and what they were learning about the family communication dynamic. The most difficult aspect of this experience was to refrain from stepping in and correcting or fixing their flawed understandings. My analysis/consultant ego kept trying to jump up and say, "Here is what you should be doing!" I am, after all, older, more experienced and more educated than these students who have just barely made it into their twenties. The problem is, if I jump in and fix them they will never learn to think for themselves or to process understanding through the experience. So if I am truly to teach, there are times I will have to use restraint and allow the students time to learn.

The other big event of the day was a review of my solo teaching experience with my mentor. She made numerous encouraging observations and comments. The problems I demonstrated and mistakes I made are correctable and not fatal. What was somewhat shocking was the discovery that I did some things in class that I don't even remember. I neglected to refer to my mentor, the professor in the class, by her name and referred to her as "her" and "she" instead. I think my uncertainty as to how the students refer to her made me a little nervous about my own references. I struggled with transitions, which is not surprising as I have always had difficulty developing transitions when preaching or giving speeches. I believe this is a result of being a fairly intuitive speaker. I depend on the vibe or the feel of the moment to steer things like illustrations and transitions. In the classroom, however, more planning might be necessary to keep from having a choppy presentation and frustrating the students. She also noted that I fell into a repetitive use of words like "stuff" when I got nervous and filled the empty space. I know better than to do that and can correct it.

Probably the issue that concerned me the most was the observation that I touched a student. I didn't realize I had done it that day, but was very conscious of it in the classroom yesterday (before our review). My years as a youth pastor and as a father enforced a habit of using touch as a means of confirmation or correction. I noticed in the class yesterday that I would reach out to "move" a student and before the motion became a touch would catch myself and pull back. It is not a conscious movement but it is apparently more frequent than I realized. This never came up in our practice teaching experiences in previous classes, perhaps because our "students" were our peers in the cohort or perhaps because they were people in my age demographic whom I didn't perceive as needing my understanding or guidance. While I'm not sure of all the explanations, I do know that it is a habit that I need to bring under conscious control.

Finally, we discussed the next opportunities for classroom leadership and teaching. I am looking forward to participating in these exercises as I work to determine my future in this field. Scares me to death, but excites me at the same time.

Ongoing Insights

2008-10-05T14:59:00.000-05:00

After missing a class because I was sick, it was a little strange returning to the classroom on Thursday. Funny how missing one session can cause such a sense of disconnect. Still, it was nice to be back and to know that some of the students missed me. Go figure.

Thursday was the first time the family groups met for interaction. This is a unique dynamic about this class. The students are learning experientially. We do some lecture, there is certainly some discussion and material covered, but the nuts and bolts learning and application happens in a conversational setting in which roles are played based on research the students have done leading up to each interaction. They remain in these characters for the entire semester and see how they develop, grow and change in a family relational setting.

Obviously, each student excels in different facets of the academic experience. It is interesting to see how some who may not stand out in written work or classroom discussion are blossoming in the research and role play. This is an important observation for me. When teaching, we have to allow for learning exercises that enable each student to have an opportunity to shine. I was a good "tester" but not everyone is. I don't stand out in research but others do. So, I may have to teach outside my strengths but the goal is not to highlight my teaching but to expedite student learning.

One other note to pass along: Sometimes the process of study required for teaching can open up generate feelings in us that we're not ready to face. This is a family communication class. When we discuss family histories, communication patterns and functions, secrets and boundaries, there was some significant pain in the realization that my extended family has never communicated much. There are so many things in my family history that I know nothing about that it saddened me deeply to do the reading and research. It was painful. It appears there are moments in teaching when the teacher is reshaped. What a journey this is shaping up to be.

Losing My Teaching Virginity

2008-09-23T15:31:00.000-05:00

Today was the big day, my first solo teaching assignment. My mentor/prof was out of town so I was in charge of a class of 20 senior students in a family communication class. Well, it would have been 20, but only 18 showed up! I tried to be creative in methodology. It is a one hour, 40 minute class so a little change of pace here and there is important. With that in mind, I drew on my youth pastor days and did a 20 minute game to begin in which the students had the opportunity to discuss what made fictional TV families healthy or unhealthy (healthy family communication was our focus for the day). Then I "committed" lecture. It was longer than I intended and seemed to be boring them to death. Finally, using what we had discussed in the opening game and what had been pointed out to them in the lecture, the students met in their family groups to consider an imaginary case study and how a healthy family would handle it communicatively.

So, how did it go? First, on the part of the students, I thought they did a valiant job of participating in the game/activity and in the family setting. This is a smart bunch and they pick things up pretty quickly. Some were very diligent about taking notes during the lecture although I couldn't quite read if it was boring, confusing or simply below their level of knowledge. Some of them probably have more experience in this field than I do. Anyway, it didn't seem to capture them in any particular way.

As for me, I was terribly nervous. I had a few weeks notice but of course didn't prepare any too early but that is my normal way. I like having a deadline hanging over me. Still, I had done some reading and discussion, was familiar with what was in our text, etc. That said, I felt like there was something SIGNIFICANT missing in the lecture time. First, it was way too long--probably about 45 minutes. Then I really struggled with transitioning from one area to the next. I wasn't comfortable with the setup--I couldn't figure out where to put my notes so they would be accessible without being a barrier (I prefer to not have things between the students and me when I am talking with them). The activities seemed to be received with a decent attitude. The game went long and a lot of students did not want to talk. Still, it wasn't a total disaster. The family group/case study activity went well. They took it seriously and produced a well-thought-through result. Not the worst idea I have ever had!

What have I learned today? First, there is a long way to go. I am not close to being a good teacher. Second, there is a satisfaction when interacting with students that brings me happiness and even a level of joy. I can see how I would find purpose in my work as a teacher and that is exciting. Third, it is all on videotape so my mentor and others can critique it. The worst might still be ahead!

About a Teacher

2008-09-18T10:49:00.000-05:00

There are things to be learned when class is not in session. Perhaps the big lesson of this internship is that teaching is always about learning! But I digress. On to the lessons so far this week.

First, no matter how meticulous a teacher is in setting up assignments, someone will be unhappy. Granted, our class has twenty students and we only had concerns expressed to us by two; but still, there were two who were disgruntled! (Really, this is just an observation and I didn't lose any sleep over this.)

Second, the first lesson can teach you other lessons. When the first complaint came, my first response would be to immediately defend myself. My mentor, however, remained calm and quiet, listened to the concern and then rationally and firmly explained the assignment and why the process was just as important as the result. (Who knew we were teaching algebra?) Then came the discussion and eye-opening realization that words usually aren't the most important part of a voiced concern or complaint. Usually there is a story behind the words, a pattern of behavior that explains the words. So when starting out as a teacher or when teaching a class in which all or most of the students are new to the teacher, it may be best just to observe for a while, keep calm and wait for the pattern to unfold.

Finally, I learned on Tuesday that if you hang out with professor types, there might eventually be cake! A fine reward, I must say.

Until next time!

Those First Halting Baby Steps

2008-09-12T13:59:00.000-05:00

Now that we are officially at the end of week two, I have had time to make some observations, learn some lessons, and note some highlights.

Observations:

The same group of people is not the same class on Tuesday as it is on Thursday. Moods change, preparation levels vary, seating might be rearranged, I might have different things on my mind and when you add up the variables, class never happens the same way twice. This is another validation for plans A through C when starting each class session.

It is possible to teach without being an expert! I find that I am able to contribute to the teaching dialog even though I don't have a vast background of knowledge in the subject area. Simply studying up some and drawing on experience gained through living can go a long way toward being a teacher. It helps to let the students attempt to answer some of their own questions as well. Teaching has a lot more to do with facilitating learning than disseminating knowledge.

Lessons learned:

Be prepared and then review again. I made a rather redundant suggestion in class on Tuesday, simply because it had been a week since I looked at the syllabus and the assignment for that day. It's amazing how much embarrassment one can be spared simply by doing a quick review before leaving the office for the classroom. Still, as that seems to be my biggest faux pas so far, I don't feel too awful.

(This one may be specific to me, but) When another person has more confidence in me than I have in myself, I need to go with their opinion. I have sooooo much trouble accepting that I might have some abilities and a serious fear of risking and stretching to achieve what I want to do; yet others--in this case, my teaching mentor--tell me that I have no reason to worry and that I am capable. This is more than just a teaching issue, it is very much a life issue. I can't figure out why I am unable to see my assets and instead tend to just see myself as an ass.

Highlights!

I was able to pull off my first substantial assignment without a hitch and with surprisingly little revision from my mentor. Not only that, there was no groundswell of dissent from the students in the class when they received their assignments from me. I was almost able to breathe when it was over!

I received my first email from a student in the class, letting ME know that he would be absent and checking to see if I had anything he needed to do to make up the absence. Obviously, the lead professor will handle that part of things and he did email her as well, but that he respected my position in the classroom enough to check in with me too was pretty exciting.

And now, it is on to preparation for my first solo teaching assignment which is coming sooner than I expected!

A New Leg on the Journey

2008-09-08T20:11:00.000-05:00

Last week I started an internship to help me finish my certificate in postsecondary teaching. I am working with my thesis advisor in a 400 level course on family communication. I will, in a few weeks, have the opportunity to do some solo teaching but have already been a part of the teaching dialog in the first two class sessions. It has been a great experience so far. My hope is that this will equip me to do some teaching as I go forward. The longer I go, the more I am sure that teaching is really what I want to do for the long term.

Over the weekend I have had the opportunity to think a little about what teaching requires. What are the characteristics of the effective teacher? Well, obviously everyone will say knowledge. It would be impossible to teach without a substantial knowledge of the subject at hand. While I can't argue against knowledge, I will say that it would seem to me to be an assumed so I don't include it in my little conversation.

I think the first and most important characteristic is integrity. If the teacher can't be trusted as a person of integrity, students will be less likely to be vulnerable enough to invest in the learning dialog. Integrity means respecting the other person's point of view and affirming their worth even if disagreeing with their position. Integrity allows the student to engage in learning without fear of ridicule.

Then, a teacher needs passion. Students will be more inclined to get involved and be excited about the class if the teacher has an obvious love and passion for both the subject and the act of teaching. I am struck by the struggles my own children have in classes taught by teachers who obviously have no passion for teaching. They spend time yelling, repeating endlessly, fighting for the kids' attention, and seem unable to see the potential for growth in the individual students. It is a sad state of affairs when a teacher lacks passion.

Finally (for this post, at least) is preparation or a plan. One of the things I am learning while working with L is that she always has a plan for the class. As well as a plan B and C in case the original plan doesn't fly. While spontaneity has its place and can be very rewarding, a plan creates the opportunity for the spontaneity to achieve the purpose of the class session. While that seems contradictory at some levels, it really is not. When the class time has a specific purpose and plan with good structure supporting, a teacher does not fear--nor does he/she depend upon--the spontaneous happenings that can create shifts in methods. With the ultimate goal in sight, the prepared teacher can use the unplanned experience to further pursue the objective for the class session on a given day.

There are many other characteristics of a good teacher which may come up in future posts, but hey, it is only the beginning of the second week. Let's not get crazy!

What I'm Lookin For...

2008-03-06T16:25:00.000-06:00

I watched a video today on people who got patents on communication devices/technologies over the past couple of centuries. One of the amazing things about these guys is how often what they ended up patenting was not what they set out to invent. As they kept trying, new ideas opened up before them and they often followed paths they had not originally seen. This has me thinking. I started out on a "career path" about 20 years ago, one that has brought me virtually no satisfaction. I have always bounced back to this field because it is what I know, what I have studied and what feels safe--even as it slowly drives me out of my mind. So now something has come apart and I no longer feel safe there. I have been looking at different jobs in some familiar fields and am finding nothing. So, I wonder if perhaps the message from God in this journey/search is to be open to the unexpected, that what he intends to "patent" in me is not the product I thought I was trying to invent. Doesn't give me a great deal of security in this moment, but it does start to kindle a little hope that all is not lost, that there me be something better around the bend. Perhaps I will someday find what I'm looking for.

Irresistible Revolution

2008-03-06T08:31:00.000-06:00

I've been reading Shane Claiborne's book, Irresistible Revolution, the last couple of days. It is a very challenging book and he leads a very challenging life. He points out how the lifestyle he describes is not "out of the norm" but is what followers of Jesus are supposed to live like. He calls those who choose this life "ordinary radicals." Yet we look at this kind of living as extraordinary.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do with what I'm reading. I want to live this life. I don't know if I have the courage.

Road Trip

2008-03-05T15:43:00.000-06:00

I pretty much finalized plans for a road trip in a couple of weeks. I'm going to spend Holy Week, Easter and the following week in New Jersey. I am going to church at my old church with people I know, love and feel secure with. At the end of the second week my daughter will fly out and we'll go to an orientation at her college before hitting the road home. I am driving my trusty 4Runner and not making any serious travel plans--just go and get as far as I feel like going each day. Taking some homework and perhaps my thesis materials which are coming due soon. I might look for work and I might not. I'm really looking forward to seeing friends, friends who seem more like family.

News of the Day

2008-03-05T12:26:00.000-06:00

It is Wednesday after the latest Super Tuesday. McCain took care of business in the Republican primaries and Huckabee stepped out so we know who the Republican nominee will be. Not a terribly exciting prospect but at least we know. I guess the question now will be, "Who will be his running mate?" Michael Steele (former Lt. Governor of Maryland)? Mitt Romney (who despises McCain and is despised by McCain)? Huckabee (who would bring Chuck Norris along)? Jeb Bush (I mean, how long has it been since we had a Bush on the ticket!)? Joe Lieberman (now that is an interesting concept, a Dem without a party)? Well, it gives the talking heads something to argue about.

The Democrats, on the other hand, can't make up their mind if they have made up their mind. Hillary won enough yesterday to keep her campaign alive but many are saying that she really has no mathematical chance at catching Obama and is just extended the anger and division by staying in the race. She says she will consider a joint ticket--with her at the top! I think she knows the only chance she has at becoming President is for Obama to be at her side. And there is no way he makes her the VP once he wraps up the nomination. Would you really want the Clintons hanging around the White House if you were the Prez? You could end up another dead body on the path to the White House for a Clinton.

Funny thing is, this stuff used to matter to me.

2008-03-03T20:26:00.000-06:00

Survival. Not always the easiest thing. I have been struggling to keep afloat of late. Years of depression and self-loathing have come to a head and now I am trying to figure things out. A new experience: anxiety attacks with tightness in my chest, trouble breathing, irrational fear of much that is familiar. It is probably the toughest battle of my life. I have no idea what the outcome will be.

Add to that the Mack truck that is this season's flu bug. Going on three weeks feeling lousy. That doesn't help with the mental stuff.

I am on an indefinite leave-of-absence from my position, going to church at a semi-local megachurch and doing a lot of talking, thinking, processing. The road to being right seems long and uncertain. Finding God in the middle of all this would be really nice.

Fade to Black

2008-03-02T16:25:00.000-06:00

Last night was the final performance (of six) of the Champlin Park High School production of "Phantom." It was also Senior recognition night. And for the first time in my life, one of those seniors was mine. Back when I was a youth pastor, I went to a bunch of these kinds of things for my graduating youth group kids and it was always a little melancholy--honoring my students, but realizing they weren't going to be a part of things with us in the same way anymore. Now it is my daughter, my oldest. Realizing that this was her final performance in high school musicals, that it was another milestone on her way out the door, I feel a deep sense of loss. She is so much like me that I'm not sure how much she understands the connection, how much joy I feel at her joy and how much I experience and carry the sorrow she endures. I sat with a father's pride, watching my little girl get her rose, her hug and her final bow. I miss her already.

Hope Springs Eternal

2008-03-01T17:00:00.000-06:00

I love my sports and my sports teams. For me and my teams, this is a great time of year. As a fan of the Kansas Jayhawks basketball team, they are looking strong heading into March Madness and will be a high seed with a great chance to win it all. Some of the thrill is gone after Roy Williams left and went to North Carolina--I haven't gotten so enthralled with Bill Self as the coach. Still, it is a great time to be a KU fan. Rock, Chalk, Jayhawk!!!

NFL free agency started late this week and the Broncos have some needs to fill. So far they haven't shown much to make me excited, but there are still a lot of players out there looking for teams. In free agency, every team has a chance to improve and I "know" my Broncos will take care of business before all is said and done.

Finally, spring training has begun. My Kansas City Royals last won a World Series in 1985 when I was 20 years old. Since then, they have not made the playoffs and in the last ten years have only had about one winning season. But they are loaded with young talent and have a new manager and a general manager who seems to have a clue, so.....THIS COULD BE THE YEAR!!!!

Like the title says, "Hope springs eternal."

Buckley

2008-02-27T19:41:00.000-06:00

As I consider the presidential campaign of 2008, the passing of William F. Buckley has lent some perspective. McCain has experience, Obama has charisma, Hillary has...well, Obama has charisma. There is no guarantee that any of these three will ever have any substantial impact on history. Buckley, however, created a movement that has endured for decades and will likely live beyond him. WFB was an intellectual, an incredible thinker who could present the concepts of conservatism in ways that made us wish we could think, write and talk like him. He founded the magazine, National Review, and was an author, TV host and social commentator.

I have spent my adult life following the legacy of Ronald Reagan and William F. Buckley. I can't say that I am particularly impressed with those who are purporting to follow in their footsteps but I will say this: William F. Buckley, love him or hate him, was the real deal, a legend as a thinker, writer, and social phenomenon. RIP, WFB.

The passing of a friend

2008-02-10T09:32:00.000-06:00

I awoke this morning to discover that, not unexpectedly, my friend Marla had passed from this world into the next. She was diagnosed with Stage 4 Metastatic breast cancer in 2004. The cancer has been in her liver and had recently spread very aggressively. Marla and I went to high school together, ran track together, and did small town life together. While we were friends in high school, her sickness brought us back together these past several months, along with several other old friends. (Tragic, isn't it, that it is often disease and death that reunites old friends and family?)

Marla was beautiful, in health and in sickness. She loved Jesus with great passion. She adored her family and was an anchor for her friends. She leaves behind her husband Patrick, three children--Katie, Brodie and Lilly, as well as her mother, brother and sisters and innumerable friends. Please pray for her family, especially Patrick and the children, as they move into this season of grief.

Thanks.

Starting again as if for the first time

2008-02-05T16:16:00.000-06:00

I had to create a new blogspot account as the old one went weird on me a while back and we needed the account for our next class. Don't know for sure what I'll be writing but here we go again. Restless as a virtue will replace my old "Restless in a Steady World." Let's see how it goes.