I'm Dreaming of a White Elbow

"We're scaredy craps - just made that up!" Steve joked with Matt. We were putting away our brushes and capping our paint buckets. The walls of a once dark and dusty basement had become a brilliant white (along with our elbows, shoulders, foreheads and shoes) and filled with laugher and song in just one hour.

Normally we would be wrapping up a scripture passage with discussion and prayer, but this week was a little different. Matt and Mary needed help painting their basement, especially with Matt's twelve hour shifts, a newborn, and the state of their house when they first moved in. Last week, over food

Kids Like This

My brisk run this morning began and ended much later than I intended. I did set my alarm* correctly  in hopes of getting up early enough, but this morning, largely persuaded by my sleepy wife, I slept in. And once up, I occupied myself with this and that (check email, check weather, etc.) to avoid the cold air outside. After way too long, I mustered up the determination and slipped on my long spandex**, pulled on a sweatshirt, gloves, a beanie and my shoes and jogged out my back door, across my lawn and to the street behind us.

"Hi Spencer!" I shouted across the street as I came upon a familiar figure. It was Carter, Spencer's

Prince of Peace

I am not in grade school. I am not a teacher. I am not from Connecticut. I do not have children. I have never been the victim of a violent crime.

Why, then, do I feel attached to what has happened? Why do I feel sorrow for the families? Why do I feel anger toward the perpetrator? Why do I feel responsibility to know the story and understand what happened? We all share it together, don't we? We are connected by our humanity, connected by the

A Figure in the Driveway

A sergeant is barking orders at his dog, beating it with a club as it whines. No, it's not a dog, it's a person curled in protection, taking blows to the ribs. The shouting continues; I hear moaning now. Fight. Somebody is taking a beating.

"And stay the f*** out of my house!" Anger splits the darkness. I'm half conscious as I leap from my warm bed to the window, peeking through blinds, searching the darkness with my blurry eyes. A

Finish, Fumes, and Love

Last month I finished building a coffee table for our living room. In the makings for almost a year (not due to the difficulty of the project but more-so my deficiency of proper tools), the supreme wood shop of my father-in-law catalyzed its completion. Yesterday the table stood proudly between the couch and the facing chair, topped with candles, coasters, and various books. This morning, the table lay belly-up in our basement as I worked new wax into the tight grain (I had finished it before, but the finish was too light for me. I like dark antique wax finish that gives the grain character and beauty to the flaws of my second-rate woodworking). It's during tedious and monotonous work like this that I can dream, remember and process.

"It makes you realize that your ways of loving her are really just ways you control her," agreed Connor. Last year the five of us had kidnapped Calvin and took him on a camping trip in Lake

Snowy Walk

Snow dusts the sleepy woods and brush

Like a lullaby and a mother's hush

Frost rests to the trees

Sun rays like melted dreams 

the drops feel like rain

But now it's snowing again

Immanuel

We come together, in from our loneliness

By the flickering light
We come into a stable

A small trough is our strange table

It is good news that He has come

Yes, Jesus,

Come

Our family meal,

Bendy Toy

I instantly recognized the handwriting before my eyes found the return address. It was a yellow package from my mom. The lid of the black mailbox clanked shut as I carried the cold gift to into our warm home. There's a magical excitement about packages delivered to your home. First of all, it is amazing USPS can bring something from my parent's front door in California to mine in Michigan in two days. Secondly, a package contains something specific and special, a surprise of intention wrapped in protection with a seal just for you.

So I pulled up the sticky tabs and emptied a short note from mom and two objects wrapped in tissue paper. One was a square tin which I opened to find a red frame ornament. "Our First Christmas" is

Sleepless Love

Tomas opened the door with a smile and I could see Kelly's face peeking over the couch back in the living room. It was good to see our friends. Their eyes looked more tired than usual, despite their warm welcoming smiles. We said hello, slipped off our shoes and shuffled over to the couch to peek at a tiny baby girl curled up in her mother's arms, sleeping.

How do you greet a little baby like that? They seem so fragile and little. I wanted to speak hello in a language she understands, but it seemed impossible with her brand new ears so small. We all chatted as she slept, enchanted by the presence of this new little person as we caught up.

I could tell they were happy to have us over and wished we could stay longer (at least that's how I

The Gift of Imagination

For the last three and a half months, Barry has been on sabbatical, traveling through Turkey, Greece, Italy, Switzerland, Boston, New York, (I probably missed a location or two) and back to his hometown in Michigan. Since he was south of us just an hour, he thought he would come up to stay with us for one night. Yesterday we hopped in the car as I showed him around my world a little, and as we did, he told me all about his sabbatical.

I love the way Barry tells stories. I heard about Spello and Assisi in vivid detail; Barry spoke slowly and calmly, painting patient and detailed word pictures. Before I knew it, I was walking down narrow

O Christmas Tree

After lunch yesterday, and with the ax in the trunk, Rachel and I drove up to our uncle's hunting property in New Era to cut down a Christmas tree. I love road trips with my wife. For some reason we get sillier and simpler with just a radio between us, singing, sharing, or just sitting silently. We didn't know exactly how to get there, but we found our way somehow, rolling along a narrow dirt road way back into the woods.

None of the little trees we found are perfect. We picked our favorite, cut it down, carried it to the

Who's Washing Your Windows

I've always thought the best drummer in the world has never been discovered. He is probably in a garage somewhere and is such a perfectionist he won't let another soul hear him.

On my way out the door at work today, I recognized the window cleaner. I couldn't quite put my finger on it and then it hit me.

"Matt! What are you doing here man?"

A couple of weeks ago he and I were playing in the same worship band together. He's an insanely good drummer and a really awesome guy. I learned his band, Coldville, is recording soon and I want to check out his music. I talked with him for a few minutes and then we parted ways.

You never know who is washing your windows.

Suffering and Prosperity

My parents must have had a few awkward moments raising my twin brother and I. In fourth grade, both Connor and I ran for student council. I remember coming home and telling my parents I won. Connor didn't. As a parent, how do you celebrate with one kid and mourn with the other? Especially when they're identical twins!

We had band practice tonight. Afterwards, Mike always leads us in a time of prayer. We usually come with reports of bad news for which we need prayer or good news for which we want to thank God*. I am thankful that Mike makes a point of this every week, not only to pray, but also to connect and get

Help Line

"Would you take care of this computer software problem? You seem to understand this stuff better than me," said Heidi, the office manager at Pulver Chiropractic, where I now work. It's a small business so everybody kind of chips in on everything. I like it that way; we function more like a family and less like machines.

Needless to say, I obliged, fully knowing that she could have done it but also happy to take something off her to-do list. I called the help line and waited on hold for about ten minutes.

A soft voice answered the phone and offered to help me. Debbie was her name. She was very kind and helpful. But my cell was running out of batteries* and I had to ask her to call us back on the land line. The phone rang. "San Diego, CA," read the caller ID when I picked it up. 

"Debbie, where are you?" 

"San Diego, in fact, I just moved here two months ago."

I learned that Debbie had just endured a nasty divorce and was advised to relocate for her own safety. She left all she knew and moved from Georgia all the way to a brand new city in California,

Unlike an Arrow

I love to watch snow come down like it did today. Silently, uniquely, carefully the snowflakes make their unhurried journey from the grayness to the ground. If you watch closely, a single snowflake does not fall straight but makes its way patiently like a lazy leaf in a creek that changes course with pebble-bent mini currents. It spins and turns until it gently comes to rest. Unlike a launched arrow whose arc is carefully followed with determination until it hits bullseye, a snowflake makes no attempt to claim its own importance; it does not even know its destination. Although each snowflake is a

Attention of the Heart

The day we moved to Michigan, we sold Rachel's car* and drove off with three thousand dollars in cash. Upon our arrival in Western Michigan, we had only one car, and since Rachel's job requires her to commute, we were graciously loaned a car from Rachel's parents. But that can't last forever.

Two months later and we still can't afford a car. Moving expenses as well as the cost of setting up a new home left us a little short, and we are still in need of our own car. So yesterday, again by the grace of Rachel's parents, my father-in-law offered for Rachel and I to pick out a car. He will buy it and we will pay him back over time, interest free.

As we were looking at cars, I struggled with all of the thoughts running through my head. First, why

Hunting

Hunting is much more sedentary than I thought. It was about thirty-three degrees as we sat in a thinly walled blind at seven in the morning. We saw a young buck graze our carrots for about an hour, but he was too young to kill. So we kept on sitting like that for over two hours. I learned that this is a common experience for hunters.

It's not what I was expecting. In my imagination, I pictured shouldering my gun through birch trees, taking a knee to study tracks and broken branches, peering from behind a tree and taking my pick from a heard of large bucks.

No, hunting is a sport of waiting for what comes your way, being on the lookout and ready to act when

For Who Are You Thankful?

Thanksgiving is tomorrow. I love the tradition behind Thanksgiving Day. I remember as a kid having Thanksgiving with my mom's family. We always had it outdoors in the beautiful California central coast, full of oak trees, dry grasses and rolling hills. I remember one Thanksgiving before my grandma died; she came dressed as a Native American and got all of us grandkids laughing. We ate barbecued turkey, cold from sitting out while we got the whole meal together.

As I've grown, I have learned to love this holiday. I love that for the most part, it's just one day. It's

Fall is a Season of Change and Preparation

Preparation. Maybe the trees aren't losing their leaves; Maybe they are letting them go. Maybe somehow they know winter is coming and they must shed anything that is not trunk or branch.

Preparation. Animals store food and find homes. How do they know?

(I am and we are all hopelessly unnatural in our

Daily Invitation

We invited our neighbors over for dinner tonight! Rachel and I have been looking forward to this for some time. We found out Matt and Mary don't like veggies of any type, so we baked some fries and cooked up some chili cheese dogs for them. When we saw a car pull into their driveway at six thirty, Rachel poked her head out, "You guys want to have dinner tonight?" "Maybe, it would have to be later though," Mary responded, "I'm only home quick; I have to go to work for a couple of hours yet." "Okay, how about tomorrow night," offered Rachel. She excitedly agreed. So we ate the meal ourselves and we're hoping to have them over tomorrow instead.

I was sad that it didn't work out*. Not to over-spiritualize the situation, but it reminded me of a

All at the Same Time

The kids on our block play incessantly*. Today was no different. It was fifty degrees outside and a half dozen of them were running around in their shorts and tee shirts, building forts, throwing the football, and laughing a lot. There's usually a group of adults watching them and hanging out, and I notice that they usually are smoking. My first thought is that these parents are setting bad examples for these kids**, teaching them bad habits. My second thought is that these parents are so cool to let their kids outside to play with one another and that they're there, hanging out together. Not every parent is like this***. I'm embarrassed that my first thought is one of judgment, coming to negative conclusions based on my narrow vision. The truth is that nobody is perfect. 

Rachel told me that our sweet neighbor, Sandy, put up some Christmas lights a couple years ago,

Neighbor Love

I left my house through the back door on my way to flag football with a bunch of guys and spotted my wife talking with our neighbor, Sandy.

Sandy and my wife were planning a time they could go on a walk together. When Sandy's son lived where we now do, they would go on walks together every day. Now that he's moved and has a job, she hasn't been on a walk since. She says she'd like to get back into it; walking is good for her health

The Good Judge

GUEST BLOG by Rachel McClenahan

I walked into a judge’s courtroom today and saw fifteen faces looking up at me.  They were waiting for the judge to enter, silently seated in two rows.  Seven children were among the group, one girl with two red bows in her curly black hair.  But today wasn’t her day – it was Jacob’s.  His adoption was being finalized today. 

I took my seat in the back as a mere observer today.  I saw the adoption worker and foster care worker interact with the family.  One of them scooped up the young girl with bows, who explained to the worker who everyone was – grandma, grandpa, aunts, and cousins.  Not quite

Work

Today was my first day of work! I had a meeting with Levi Pulver, my new employer. Dr. Levi is a chiropractor and I will be his practice representative, managing local outreach and promoting health and wellness to the community. At the meeting we talked about how he needs somebody to represent him, to build relationships first, to be present in the community, to spread the news that he can help them, to find ways to bless people and businesses, to make health more accessible to people. Basically, I will be what I like to call a "chiropractic evangelist".

I came home from a short day of meetings and scheduling and I felt so relaxed. It's the first time

Ambassadors of Hope into Winter

It was twenty-seven degrees out this morning when I began to scrape the ice off my windshield, not something a Californian is used to doing. I started the car and drove through our neighborhood, all freshly frosted from last night's cold. I remember mornings like these in northern California as a little boy. We would walk to school, hear the crunch of the frozen grass under our sneakers and leaving softer greener footprints behind.

As I pulled out onto the main little street, I passed a service truck beside which was a man on a ladder hanging some kind of evergreen garland around a lamppost. He was about half-way done with the whole street.

The evergreen seems to be a cute holiday tradition. A long time ago, I thought, evergreens must have been chosen to symbolize everlasting life offered at Christmas. In southern California, nothing

First Snow

Fall Is Reaching Snow Time. Something New Of Weather.

Heavenly

A heavenly crystal craft floats gently down in the arms of the wind. I feel the first one touch my eyelid as I am walking from the school gym. This is not only the first of the day, but the first of many days, the first of the season.

::

My feet, encased in shoes, strike trail leaves on a damp forest floor. I am reminded it rained last night. Trees pass me by, stuck like many enormous flagged toothpicks in tiny leaf-soil sandwiches. My pulse is quick, but I am at peace as my lungs draw in breath and steadily release it. I reach the other side of the nature reserve and I turn around. I do not know how far I have come, only that I'm

Willing to Make it Right

"Between services, can you pick up two zucchinis, some stock and a lime?" read a text from Rachel between gatherings this morning. I was scheduled to play in the band so I came to the first service and Rachel was going to meet me at the second service with her whole family (mom, dad, brother, sister-in-law). After the service we planned to have them for lunch so there were a few things I needed at the store before then.

I ran out to my car, cruised over to the store and found a parking spot, of which there were few. For some reason, Sunday is Western Michigan Family Grocery Shopping Day (WMFGSD). Lines are long, even when families are "supposed to" be in church. I turned off the car, grabbed my wallet,

How Do I Begin?

I have the best friends in the world.

How do I even begin to describe them?

Today they were all together in my brother's living room in California and they called me on FaceTime to say hello. I was passed around and got to see all of their faces and I was reminded again of how special these people are to me. Here is a teeny tiny snippet of what I love about each one:

Connor is my identical twin brother, my genetic match, my lifelong companion. He understands me like nobody else. Sometimes when we're with our wives, Connor and I will start laughing about something that to us is unbelievably funny. Rachel and Sherianne just look at one another, puzzled. Connor is a believer, an encourager, a relator. Connor is incredibly intuitive, wise, insightful and understanding. Connor is the kind of person who will stick it out with you until the very end. He is the best brother I could have EVER asked for.

Sherianne is tender and go-with-the-flow but also resilient and intelligent. She's the kind of person you hope to find in a nook reading a novel. I love her goofy laugh and that sometimes it gets the best of her. You can tell that she thinks things through, that she's been wanting to ask you this one question and she really wants to hear your response. She's a great mother to her son.

The five of us backpacking in Ansel Adams Wilderness

Jono is an adventurer, a teacher, an inspirer, a protector. You want him as your friend. I have been in many situations with Jono in which, if I wasn't with him, I would be backing down. But Jono has a way of instilling courage in people, enabling them to go farther than they thought they could. He's up for anything at any time, especially if it involves something contrary to social

Thinking Too Much

Today Rachel finished training in Detroit for her job as an adoptions specialist! She's been at it for seven weeks, half of which have been in Lansing or Detroit. She's been sitting in classrooms, staying at hotels, eating out and missing me. To celebrate her homecoming I thought I'd go get her a little something.

After cleaning the house, I made a trip to the store to pick something out. I began at the jewelry stand, looking through earrings and necklaces. But I thought I could maybe pick out something better, something more meaningful, something more special. So I wandered through the women's clothing,

A Little Letting Go

I had a good day today. I pulled on some long spandex and jogged through the cold neighborhood. I met our new auto insurance agent and got all that dialed in. I studied at the library, made a visit to the chiropractor, and went to my in-law's to work on building a bookshelf. I got lost in the work for a few hours, stopped at home for a quick dinner and called my brother. I got to worship practice a few minutes late and got to play bass. I drove home and pulled up into the driveway. The windows were dark and the doors were locked.

Rachel is in Detroit tonight. Her work sent her out there to complete her training. So I walked in the door to an empty house. The furnace pilot had gone out so it was a little colder than normal.

Alone.

It's not that I can't spend a night by myself (I actually usually enjoy that occasionally). It's not that I

A Familiar Voice

"You don't want to miss the sunset tonight. I wanted to go drive by the lake on my way home," said my mother-in-law late this afternoon. I had been using my father-in-law's wood shop today and finished up at the same time she got home. I love making things, creating, building things. Especially things so natural and raw as wood. Very slowly and from a little seed grew a giant oak. It grew so heavy and old that it fell in a storm. Since it was on his property, Uncle Wes milled it and gave most of it to my father-in-law. Today we planed the faces and jointed the edges and made the first cuts. It's such beautiful wood. The grain is tight and strong. But it gives itself to my shaping and joining.

Needless to say, I peeked out the window to see a corner of sky, lit up pink by the setting sun. I said goodbye, started my car, and chased toward the sun, eager to catch a full view and knowing I had

Another Walk in Deeper Autumn

Deeper autumn stroll

Leaves are brittle shells

That which once held life

Shivers on a branch

Rattles in the wind

We Carry Our Pains

I got out of bed and painfully straightened up on my legs, tenderly shifting my weight as I got dressed. Soreness plagued all of my leg muscles, my abdomen, my back, and even my neck. Just the thought of squatting or bending over was enough to make me cringe. I used to heal so much faster in high school and college!*

It started on Saturday morning as I eagerly joined in on a fun game of five on five flag football with some guys in the community. We played for two hours, enough time for me to get to play all positions. When we won I felt like a hero, but when my muscles cooled down again, soreness set in

Eight Hours

Most people like naps. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't handle them. Today I tried once again. Don't get me wrong, I was in need of one. My body was heavy and my blinks were getting longer. I took off my shoes, climbed underneath the covers and let my body settle and my breathing slow. And with that final breath and I was under the spell of an afternoon nap.

As you can see, I have no trouble getting to sleep. It's when I wake up disoriented, confused, sluggish, and groggy that I remember that I don't like naps. Today, I woke aware of how unproductive I've been. I was aware of how hard it has been to adjust to Michigan. I was aware of how much I miss close relationships. I should have known I would be feeling down. Jono and I have talked about this a number of times and we both have had the same experience. We go to take a nap but wake up

Nothing Natural Happens Immediately

This morning I watched a pot boil.

They say it can't be done. Ha!

All you need is patience, really.

If you look close enough, it is changing all the time.

And it will happen. (Nothing natural happens immediately.)

Out of the Loop

It's nights like tonight that I love not having a television. Rachel spent the night at a friend's last night, so I hadn't seen her since yesterday morning. I was excited to have her home! After sitting down and catching up, we put on our jackets and walked to Fricano's Pizza for a little Friday night dinner date. It was a slow walk home as the sky was beginning to darken. We came back home to silence and space. We were a little bit bored, but it was nice to just rest together.

If we had access to television in our house, it may have also been nice to watch that show we like. But personally, I know that I tend to zone in, carry on to another show, and I would most likely let the night slip away without ever really connecting with my wife on an emotional level. 

Even having a computer can be a way to avoid a situation or boredom itself. Maybe part of the reason man keeps inventing new things is to make him busy. 

It is so refreshing to let go of that need to be busy and to let myself be bored a little bit. I think it should be a natural rhythm of our lives. Before electricity, when evening came, activity and work came to a close and families were drawn into a time of rest. Are we better off now? Well, yes in

Space for Broken Buildings

Spring Lake is a great place to walk around. They've got a board walk trail that runs along the shore for a little ways and then it cuts into town parallel to the little shops and neighborhoods. It was here that I decided to take myself on a little walk. Through beached boats up on the dock, I walked the boardwalk with the wind and came upon an old brick warehouse*. Tall weeds hid some small broken window panes and grew up the cracks and gutters. Circling, I peeked inside. So much space! All filled with old boat trailers and somebody's furniture.

Where I am from in California, this building would be torn down or refurbished or used for some purpose beyond collecting dust atop boat trailers. Where I am from in California, land is way too valuable to let that happen. Every square inch of land is maximized and monetized, even the 5 freeway is too much space to leave empty! We spread our busy feet into every usable corner and claim it. Now Spring Lake is a nice town, a similar kind of nice as the town I am from in California. It seems to be doing well and most people who live there are probably middle class. It is not a "ghetto" like Detroit**(***). All that said, there is something about this part of the country that allows space

Halloween Haikus

Fall is a party.

Having thrown their confetti,

Trees stand awkwardly

::

Tall macchiato,

Laptop, Bible, Snickers Bar.

Too windy outside.

::

Brother sent lyrics

Determined, Specific and Gentle

Dr. Levi Pulver* welcomed me into his office today for my first chiropractic adjustment. As a new patient, he scheduled an extra long visit in order to do some preliminary tests. He had me stand against a grid on a wall to assess my posture, marking the alignment of my ears, shoulders and hips. He tested my range of motion.

Then it got really interesting**. He tested the strength of different muscles by applying resistance. He had me hold my hands on certain places on my chest and then tested my strength again. In some positions, my strength was clearly reduced. Apparently, a drop in strength signifies an interference with a specific nerve. After a short series of a few of these tests, Dr. Levi said that it looked like I had some interference with a specific vertebra on the left side of my neck and a suture on the right side of

Under the Same Roof

Out of our kitchen window I spotted our neighbor, Sandy, walking up our back porch. "She's here!" I called to Rachel since my hands were full, straining the pasta and grilling the chicken.

We first met Sandy the day we came to check out this duplex. I noticed a very nicely kept garden and a lady in her seventies who greeted us with a smile and a wave. Since moving in, we have had numerous pleasant conversations with Sandy as we have come and gone, and during one or two of them we had extended an invitation for dinner.

She placed a gift on the table and we poured some wine from Traverse City*. I served pasta with chicken and a simple Alfredo sauce while we got to know one another better. 

Sandy moved into this duplex eighteen years ago with her second husband, "best of friends". They

Running Down My Knuckles

We stand up when the music begins to play and begin to walk toward the front of the room. Chris is in front of me and Rachel is behind me; we come step by step. Steve had just spent the last thirty minutes describing all of ways we pride ourselves in our accomplishments, good deeds, heritage, and abilities. We come to God with these things, proud of our worthiness because we cannot believe the all-encompassing grace of Jesus. What do I put in this equation?

Jesus + ________ = Everything

Nothing. Jesus is everything. God's love cannot be earned or deserved. It's unreasonable and irrational. It is extravagant and incomprehensible. Anything I have done or become has all been overcome by God's love.

I see a woman holding out a plate full of pieces of bread and a man holding a clay cup full of red juice.

In the bread and the wine, Christ invites me to receive his grace, to digest it. The invitation is for

So. Much.

There are sometimes moments in which the successes of those around us amplify the voice of poverty in our ears. The voice that says, "You do not have enough. These other people are set for success and fortune and you will never have what they have." There is a race all around me, stirring up my heart and pulling me in with it to chase a life free of struggle. This race is real, but it is a race I am not obligated to run. When I step back, I think, "I never set out for success and fortune. Those are not the things I am pursuing." True, in some ways I don't have all that I could want. I've experienced struggle and need. But when I remember that I am actually heading in the opposite direction toward a different prize, I am filled with so much thanksgiving*:

I am thankful Rachel has a broken heart for people in need and that she acts on it every day by working towards finding adopting parents for orphaned children.

I am thankful for the way my twin brother loves God, his wife and his son. I am thankful for the way

Eye To Eye

From those who will take hold of love,
she flees until beheld again by
love's affection.
A warm beside allows even
love's nearness; although 'tis sweet enough,
'tis sad; enough for most
But those who pride themselves an
object not and bravery do have,
permit love's gaze from eye to eye
will both receive and give truest
belovedness by being known.

Thunder and Rain

As I am writing I hear thunder to the south and west of our house in Grand Haven. It's coming up over the lake and passing overhead, drawing with it the rain. Apparently a cold front has been crossing the continent in this direction; it was in Colorado yesterday and today it is colliding with the warm weather we've been having, producing thunder and rain. I love feeling the crack and rumble and then listening as rain comes over everything.

Also coming from Colorado today was Hugh Halter, who led a conversation among church leaders on the topic of becoming missionaries in our context. It really comes down to allowing the gospel to

Into A Real Home

"O you can keep your shoes on. I do anyways." Vicki welcomed us into her home through her garage door. My shoes were half-off already. The kitchen table had brownies and chips on it, as well as some empty glasses ready to be filled with water, lemonade, beer, or diet soda. I would not say their house was perfectly clean. Instead I felt as if I was walking into my own home*. We gradually found seats in the living room, one at a time, as the kids went downstairs to play.

I love our time as a small group, getting together to see one another, to be with one another, to ask one another questions and to listen. At some point we open scripture and ask what we have been noticing in our reading. This fall we've been reading through the New Testament together and this last week we have read a few of Paul's letters to early churches. I noticed that Paul keeps reminding them that Christ is all, that we are adopted by grace into God's family (and not by anything else we have

Shoes Before Glory

Today I went on a run around a new part of my neighborhood. I love running and am often motivated by my desire to get outside and be inspired, to have an adventure*. But this doesn't happen automatically. It's rarely convenient to go running. The essence of exercise is pain, exerting oneself to make one stronger. It would be much easier if I just set a regular time or if I had someone to run with because then the "yes" would be made for me. I have an inner dilemma almost every time. What if I were to wait a little longer until things warm up? I'm too hungry to run, I'll eat first. I just ate, I'll wait a little longer. I just showered, so I don't want to have to shower again.

BRENDAN, just GO!

So this morning I just put on my shoes, got out the door and I loved it. The leaves on the sidewalk were damp with the morning fog.

I have never been great at doing my homework. I distinctly remember the first homework assignment I decided to not complete on purpose. It was The Odyssey in my freshman English class. From then on in all of my education, even through my master's degree, I rarely did my homework assignments. I am not proud of this. I do not recommend this. I think I thought I was beating the system, that I could

A Walk in the Woods

Open Doors, Broken Doors

After church this morning, Rachel and I walked through our backyard to the Thompson's house and gave his family a plate of cookies. The Thompsons have five children and they were all running around and playing. It was our first time stopping by and they invited us in warmly. I love that without a word of notice they were prepared to welcome guests in, even if their house was not perfect (My other mom, Mrs. Lippman, always says, "welcome to our imperfect home" and I think that is a very Godly greeting). To me, welcoming a visitor into an imperfect but loving home is a powerful way a family can show God's heart. We played with the kids, chatted with the family and made our way out, happy to have made connections with our new friends.

Walking down their driveway I spotted Thompson's car door ajar with the inside panel removed. I asked him about it. "Our daughter likes to swing from the handle and it finally broke! I have been

Welcome Invitation

Today we had over Liz, a childhood friend of Rachel's. Liz was a bridesmaid in our wedding and Rachel was a bridesmaid in her's. So it was a joy to have somebody so special over to our house on a leafy fall afternoon. As it neared dinner time, we urged Liz to stay and eat with us. Opening our home is one of the ways Rachel and I have chosen to bless others and celebrate God's love. Whether we are tight on our budget, or experiencing a surplus, inviting others to eat with us reminds us that God invites all of us to dine with him, to attend his awesome banquet. I was excited to welcome Liz to our table.

I decided to cook chicken coconut curry*, one of my favorite meals to make. I stretched our ingredients so we could all have a small portion. It feels so right to sacrifice my plate so others can join the table, I thought.

As I was cooking, Rachel and Liz decided to go on a walk around the neighborhood to say "hi" to her brother and sister a few blocks away. Just as I'm finishing up the meal I get a call from Rachel.

"Brendan, Charlie and Annie are coming over too! They said they didn't have any dinner plans so I

Glad You Were Born

Calvin and I just chilling at the beach in NorCal.

Today I celebrate my best friend on his birthday. Calvin was born December 19, 1988 in northern California into a great family. When I was 2, my family moved into the area and our moms became good friends. I remember play dates with Calvin as toddlers. My brother Connor and I would go over to visit Calvin and Jeff and play for hours: treehouse, board games, video games, capture the flag, hide and go seek, movie making, and Risk™ (the former included a large splinter for me that Calvin's mom retrieved. The latter included fist fights between Calvin and Jeff).

Calvin was not only a childhood friend. When my family moved to southern California, Calvin remained a faithful friend to me. We've

It's Not What You Say But Who You Are

Last night I gathered with other believers as we centered ourselves on scripture. It's a beautiful thing how the Spirit speaks to each of us differently from the same passages and then also how the community responds in love and listening.

One of the members shared something about which she had a question and opened it up to the rest of us. With little hesitation I was the first to respond. But even as I was sharing I had the thought,

"Why do I feel like I have to say something?"

After I finished my thought, I let other people talk for a little bit as I did some praying with God. Why do I feel compelled to contribute? I notice that I often offer to pray first, share something, or give a

Dishes and the 405

There's nothing that says good morning quite like a pile of dirty dishes filling up the sink and spilling out on all countertops and even on the stove. I was too hungry to do dishes, so I ate breakfast and added a bowl and a spoon to the collection only to walk back upstairs to do who-knows-what. Why did I put it off? Why didn't I just do them after breakfast? I think I wanted to believe that I had more important things to do, even though I didn't. Not just more important things to do, but I wanted to be more important than that. Turns out, I'm not.

Come lunch time and the dishes still weren't done. After adding a plate and a fork to the pile, I began my work. I actually do enjoy washing dishes*, and I will often ask if I can do them, even after cooking. For the most part, this task gets a bad rap, and it is often used as a punishment for children
(or maybe it is thought of as a punishment by grown-up children whose mothers or grandmothers made them wash the dishes for misbehaving at the table. And I bet those grandmother's mothers made it a

Sabbath and Fall

In San Diego, you have a warm summer (April through October) and a colder summer (November through March). You do not have faith in seasons. If plants start dying, "Water it! Fertilize it! There must be a disease!" But in Michigan, when plants start to die, people go on runs through beautiful woods (like mine today at Hofma park. Above, the branches dangled gold medallions and bright red
flames. Their branches stretched out across the trail like a victory tunnel through which I would run and cheer, lifting my hands to stroke the low-hanging leaves. And below, the forest floor was covered in a blanket of every color, leaves like confetti after a celebration. I didn't want that run to end). How

A Call from My Friend, Reid

Today I woke to my vibrating phone from an unknown number. I answered it, "hello?"

"Where are you, Brendan?" asked a teenage male voice, sad and curious. I recognized the voice and a big smile came to my face.

"Oh, hi Reid! Good morning! Where am I? I am in Michigan."

"When are you coming back?" he asked with even deeper sadness in his voice.

"Christmas. I'm coming back around Christmas."

"Christmas? I'll be here on Christmas! Yes I will."

Puddles Everywhere

God's mercy comes
In steady pitter patter
Dripping from bare branches
Gathering on umbrellas
Rolling down in streamlets
And long black coats.
May I go outside to splash in all the puddles?

Why Is It Called Fall When Everything Goes Sideways?

Wind used to be my least favorite type of weather.

Rachel, Jen, Ben and I went down to the lake today to take pictures of the pier for a painting Rachel and I want to do for our living room. We drove over the wet fingers of sand reaching into the parking lot, turned off our cars and stepped out to a racing, wet, sandy wind, the kind that makes it hard to open the car door and easy to shut it. We ran out past the rickety fences to the water and took some pictures, keeping the camera to the north side of our bodies to keep it dry. The wind was shaping large, messy waves that were way out of line (coming from Encinitas, I'm used to waves cooperating to create long shoulders upon which a surfer could easily ride, not this carnage I've been seeing on

Raining Through My Car

It's raining! I woke up to the sound last night as I was falling asleep. I love the sound of the rain as it lands on my roof, the asphalt, the trees and the grass, wetting everything without preference. I thought of my car parked outside and the water running down the rear windshield and through a small leak in the trunk. I wedged a jar in the exact spot the water drips down. Every so often it fills up and I have to empty it out (kinda gross?) and then I put it right back in its place. But it rained all night and is still