Happy Easter!

Remember the sacrifice behind the symbol

No offense to my Roman Catholic friends, but their worship services are way too long for my patience level (same with Jewish services, with the added drawback that I don't understand a word they're saying).

But one thing I think Catholics get right is their use of the crucifix. As I said earlier during Lent, I'm not trying to be sadistic or to focus only on the negative, depressing section of the Holy Week story. I just think we often forget the reason we use the cross to symbolize our faith.

The late comedian George Carlin went so far as to argue in one of his stand-up routines that "symbols are for the symbol-minded." While it's pretty clear from his comedy that Carlin was an atheist, I always thought it was a cheap shot to take a other people's beliefs, and even though I still like many of his routines, it did nothing to endear him to me.

But he might have had a point. If we wear the cross and never think about its meaning, we risk becoming "symbol-minded" people who just wear it out of habit. (I don't wear a cross around my neck, but I have one hanging from my car's rear-view mirror. My mother-in-law bought it for me, and I like it because it's made out of old nails and copper wire. The red-colored copper wound around the junction of the nails reminds me of the blood spilled for my salvation.)

Of course, you could argue the opposite position just as easily. For years, Pastor Jon told us on Easter Sunday that we are called to be "Easter people." We are not meant to wallow in the sadness and misery of Jesus' death on the cross, he argued, but to celebrate his resurrection and the hope that his death for our sins and rebirth means for our lives.

I wholeheartedly agree with him. We should live as forgiven, loved people who are meant to love our brothers and sisters as we love ourselves and want others to love us. But I think we also should reflect from time to time on the sacrifices Jesus made for us and realize that we are called to make sacrifices of our own -- albeit much smaller ones -- if we are to live up to our Christian titles.

And I don't think once a year is often enough.

In today's part of the Holy Week journey, Jesus is lying in a tomb, wrapped in cloths and covered in scented oils. His mother, his disciples and others who believed he was the Messiah are mourning. Jesus' death was full of pain and misery.

Tomorrow brings a happy ending to this tale of woe as the women find the empty tomb and encounter the resurrected Lord. Praise God!

But even Jesus showed his pierced hands and side to those who refused to believe it was him. We don't need to dwell in the details of his death (so maybe the crucifix is a bit too much) but we should never forget.

My words are unnecessary today

 

Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

  Luke 23:34 

---

From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land.

About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” 

(which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).

When some of those standing there heard this, they said, “He’s calling Elijah.”

Immediately one of them ran and got a sponge.

He filled it with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink.

  The rest said, “Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to save him.”

And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit.

At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.

The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open.

The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life.

  They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and went into the holy city

and appeared to many people.

When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the
earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed,

“Surely he was the Son of God!”-- Matthew 27:45-54

Random acts of humility and service

One of the most memorable Holy Week church services I ever attended was a few years back on Maundy Thursday.

Instead of eating a Seder dinner that year, we took turns humbling ourselves as Jesus did by washing each other's feet. I still remember carefully pouring water on my Christian brother Leo's feet, rubbing them gently and patting them dry with a clean towel. (I don't remember who drew the short straw and had to wash my feet that night. I hope it wasn't too memorable in the wrong way for them!)

I remember this, of course, because washing another person's feet isn't something we do on a regular basis (thank goodness, right?). But as I reflect on it now, I can't help but think it really wasn't that big of an act of humility. After all, these were people we saw every week; people we knew pretty well, and certainly not complete strangers.

I also remember the first time I woke up early one Sunday morning several years ago and made the pre-dawn trek to the COMEA House, the local homeless shelter, to serve breakfast to the residents there. To me, giving up my sleep time to help cook and serve a hot meal to people not as fortunate as I am wasn't much of a sacrifice (though I probably made more than one comment about it being very early for a weekend morning).

But getting my food, sitting down and striking up a conversation with someone who was homeless was an entirely different matter.

It wasn't challenging because I thought I was better than them somehow. Life simply dealt me a different hand than it dealt them. But what do you say to someone who has no permanent address?

"What happened?"

"How did you come to be here?"

"How's the job search going?"

I settled on "Where are you from?" and let the conversation go from there. The meal was filled with several uncomfortable silences as neither of us knew what to say. But I came away from the experience with not only a reminder of how blessed I am to have a job, a family, a roof over my head and food on my table, but a reminder that I need to more often practice random acts of humility and service.

It's awfully easy as Americans to get comfortable in our circumstances and then start wishing we had even more. Car getting a few miles on it? Must be time for a new one. Don't feel like watching any of the 200 DVDs on the shelf? Run to the store and buy something new. Neighbor have a bigger TV or a better surround-sound system? Get the credit card out and buy something even better.

Yet Jesus' lesson for all of us following the Passover meal with his disciples was that no matter our social status, we must humble ourselves and serve others to enter God's kingdom. None of us is above serving others, not even the Son of God.

It's a lesson I carry with me, thanks to COMEA breakfasts, Family Promise overnights and youth group work days at the Wyoming Coalition for the Homeless. Yet I have to blow the cobwebs off of it from time to time because, I'll admit, I allow myself to get caught up in my own creature comforts way more than I should.

So I'll end by issuing this challenge to myself and all of you: Look around for ways to practice random acts of humility and service. Step outside your comfort zone and reach out to someone you wouldn't normally interact with. And remember: Even Jesus washed someone else's dirty feet.

If Jesus had a smartphone ...

... would his Google Calendar look something like this?:

Saturday, April 16 -- Send disciples to find and bring me a donkey.

Sunday, April 17 -- Ride into Jerusalem on said donkey. Wave to the nice people lining the streets.

Monday, April 18 -- Visit the temple and see what the place is like these days. Get mad, tip over some tables and throw the bums out.

Tuesday, April 19 -- Go to the temple again. Get in a theological argument with some guys who definitely don't "get it."

Wednesday, April 20 -- Preach some more in the temple. Watch Judas sneak away to prep for my betrayal.

Thursday, April 21 -- Have a lovely dinner with my disciples upstairs. Watch Judas sneak away again. Wash some stinky dirty feet, then head to the garden and pray while the disciples snooze.

Friday, April 22 -- Stand still while the worst miscarriage of justice ever takes place. Later, carry a heavy wooden cross up a hill, get nailed to it, then die.

Sunday, April 24 -- Shock everyone by rising from the dead.

Thursday, June 2 -- Shock everyone again by rising into the sky and disappearing. Ask Dad why the heck I had to go through all that to get these people's attention.

These days, our lives are so busy that we have to carry some sort of calendar around with us at all times. Before I had a smartphone, I had a PDA. Before that, it was a spiral-bound planner. And before that? Honestly, I can't remember, but it must have been something I couldn't leave home without.

As I drove home from our church Ministry Council meeting tonight, I couldn't help but think about how much time I had spent during the meeting consulting my smartphone calendar and typing in upcoming events. Which got me to wondering if Jesus knew, before what we now call Holy Week began, exactly how things would unfold.

Did he know what would happen each day, when his death would happen and what time he would rise on Sunday, as if an alarm clock had gone off?

At one point, he tells his followers to always be alert, because the exact day of his return to Earth will be unexpected. But since he was God's son, did he get some sort of internal memo that told him when each event in his life was going to happen?

Obviously as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane he knew what was about to happen. Yet he still asked God, if it was His will, to not let him suffer and die the way he knew it was about to happen. Given how it happened, you can hardly blame him.

I choose to believe that he didn't know how every single event would transpire, no more than we know how the activities we type into our smartphones will play out. Because although we think we know exactly where we'll be when and what will happen when we get there, life is still uncertain.

We need to always be alert. No smartphone will ever change that.

Putting our Lenten "sacrifices" in perspective

As I said when I started this blog 42 days ago, I decided this year to give up fast food for Lent and add daily spiritual reflection time. The former hasn't been that much of a struggle (although it required me to think ahead yesterday morning to make sure I brought both lunch and dinner to work with me, since I wasn't going to be home last night).

The latter has meant making time each day to sit down at a computer, reflect on some piece of Scripture or relate some recent event in my life to my spiritual beliefs.

What have I given up in exchange for this time? A bit more family time, since I often wrote my blog post at the office after work before going home. Some TV or reading time, since I wrote both weekend days too. Some time at the fitness center on days (like today) that I chose to stay at work and write over lunch rather than working out.

All in all, I would guess I've spent about 20 to 25 hours total over the Lenten season on this blog. Is that a lot or not much?

Well, I've spent more time asleep in the past four days than I have in spiritual reflection over the last five weeks. I've certainly still watched much more television over that time span. And I've spent more time doing a list of other chores and recreational activities during the same time frame than I have spent blogging.

So neither giving up fast food nor spending 20 to 30 minutes each day in reflection and writing were much of a sacrifice, right? Certainly not compared to the ultimate sacrifice Jesus made for all of us on the cross. (My friend Jimbo gave up coffee at my daughter's suggestion, and though he has probably cursed her name daily since taking the bait, I know he agrees that switching to tea for 46 days isn't too much of a sacrifice, either. Still, he's a stronger man than I am.)

Yet my "To do" lists are still long, and as I sit writing this and eating lunch at the same time, I feel like I should be editing a big project for work instead of spending a half-hour doing this. Why is that? (Best not to jump down that guilt-ridden rabbit hole right this minute!)

Even President Obama, surely one of the busiest humans on the planet, kept things in perspective during his second annual Easter prayer breakfast at the White House this morning. Quoting the Associated Press story:

Pausing to observe Holy Week amid war and policy struggles, President Barack Obama said Tuesday that the agony of Jesus Christ through death and resurrection puts mere political struggle "in perspective."

Obama said "critical national debates" are raging, and "my plate has been full as well. The inbox keeps accumulating. But then comes Holy Week ...

"As busy as we are, as many tasks as pile up, during this season, we are reminded that there is something about the resurrection ... of Our Savior Jesus Christ that puts everything else in perspective."

Thank you, Mr. President, for the reminder that even as busy as you are, and as many seemingly impossible tasks as you and other national leaders face right now, it's still important to keep all things in perspective.

And none of us is too busy to stop for a few minutes during this holiest of weeks and thank God and Jesus for the much larger sacrifices they made on our behalf.

Do we really need this "calm before the storm"?

It's Monday of Holy Week: What's going on in the story of Jesus' journey to the cross?

A couple of things -- one of which shows that Jesus has a temper -- but I would argue not much in the overall scheme of things.

As Jesus returns to Jerusalem in the morning, he sees a fig tree, goes to it because he is hungry, finds no figs there and then curses it. Later, he overturns the tables of the moneychangers and clears the temple in anger over his father's house of prayer being turned into a "den of robbers."

The first story is revisited briefly Tuesday morning, but it's the second one that carries more significance and has been remembered and repeated more often by clergy and laity through the years.

Still, when either of these events is compared to the Passover meal and the lessons shared there, Jesus' garden prayer, his trial and crucifixion, and his resurrection, they seem pretty insignificant.

So what are we to make of this relative calm before the storm? It's a chance for us to pause, reflect on what has happened so far and get ready for the rapid-fire activity to come at the end of the week.

I occasionally wish I had more opportunities to enjoy a "calm before the storm." Yet that's not always possible. Sometimes my schedule is so frenetic that I end up running from one thing to the next without much of a chance to catch my breath.

Such was my schedule of activities yesterday. I went from home to the grocery store to buy snacks for youth group. From the store to the busyness of a youth group meeting that included filling 360 plastic eggs with candy in preparation for Sunday's Easter egg hunt. From youth group to get Marie at the assisted living facility and bring her to church. From handing off a note to Rev. Sandi before service started to the nursery to hang out with two youth and an adorable baby, plus adding more donated candy to additional donated eggs and candy bags. From the nursery to counting money with our financial secretary. From counting money to taking Marie home. From there back to church to make sure we were set up for hosting family promise this week. From church to the library to return a book and check out a CD. From the library to the house for a quick bite of lunch before heading to the gym with Sydney.

All in all, almost seven hours of seemingly nonstop activity. Yet it was only when I returned from the gym yesterday afternoon and sat down to write my daily blog post that I realized maybe I really don't enjoy the calm before (or after) the storm. I seem to thrive on the chaos and tumult of life's activities and don't know what to do with myself if I have too much time to just sit and "be."

Oh sure, I enjoy quiet reading time -- for about 15 to 30 minutes. Then I'm either asleep or antsy to get up and do something else. And while I enjoy a "serious" film from time to time, I still gravitate toward the big-budget, special effects-driven sci-fi and action movies (which means my favorite movie season of the year is almost here -- SUMMER -- YAY!).

At this point, we have two more "down days" of Holy Week before Maundy Thursday gets here and the action really begins. I'm ready for the next exciting chapter of the story ... let's go!

Marking milestones (during Holy Week and in life)

Happy Palm Sunday!

Today marks the start of the week of Jesus' death on the cross and resurrection three days later.

His warm reception to Jerusalem as he rode on the back of a donkey is just the first of many milestones for Jesus during this event-filled week. Along the way, of course, he will have a very special Passover meal in the Upper Room with his disciples, ask God to take his suffering away in the Garden of Gethsemane, suffer terribly at the hands of Pontius Pilate's guards following a sham of a trial (during which disciple Peter will deny three times knowing him), suffer and die from crucifixion, then rise from the grave.

Unlike many people, who would rather jump directly from Palm Sunday to Easter, I like marking each milestone in the journey that is Holy Week. I'm not sadistic, I just think it is an important reminder of how much Jesus sacrificed for me. I need to walk "with him" as the story unfolds each year, even going so far as to watch the horrible depictions of his beating and death in the film "The Passion of the Christ" most years since it was released in theaters.

Thankfully, because of his sacrifices, my family and I enjoy an extremely privileged, comfortable life. Which is why we feel called to give back what we can in terms of our tithes and our volunteer time. Yet it will never be enough to compensate for the gift he gave us by dying for our sins. Again, thank goodness for God's grace.

Unlike the major milestones during Holy Week, some of the milestones in our daily lives seem pretty dull and undramatic by comparison. But that doesn't mean they are any less important.

As a spouse and parent, these can include: your wedding day, the birth(s) of your child(ren), baby's first tooth, the first time your child walks or rides a bicycle on their own. All of these milestones were wonderful as Melissa and I experienced them with Sydney and Conner.

This afternoon I marked a much smaller milestone with Sydney: I took her to the fitness center I belong to. She's 13 now and asked if she could start going with me and/or her mother from time to time. So there we were, walking side by side on treadmills in the cardio room. My "baby girl" is no longer a baby.

Sooner than I want to acknowledge, she will be asking for my car keys to take friends to the mall or a movie. (Worse yet, she'll be headed downstairs wearing a formal dress, greeting some boy with a stupid grin on his face and heading off with him to prom -- out of my line of sight and my control. Good thing I trust her, right?)

Then, on a day that's closer than I dare think, she'll be asking me to walk down an aisle with her to give her away to that same boy or some other one.

Whew! That's much more than I wanted to think about today. (Too many prom and graduation news items at work, I guess.) Time to return to thinking about Jesus' journey for a while ...

Life -- and faith -- are messy sometimes

Pop quiz: What do the following three pictures have in common?

Think you know? Give up?

All three represent places that were messy this morning and aren't this afternoon. After mowing the lawn and vacuuming the living room floor, both areas look a lot neater. Conner's bedroom floor was covered with clothes and blankets and other stuff earlier, but we worked together and cleaned it up. (Another "clean" image this third photo represents is the fact he got a haircut a week ago. I always think he looks a lot neater when he gets his hair cut short.)

Unfortunately, all of these areas didn't look as good when the day started. They were all a bit (or more than a bit) messy.

Just like life -- and our faith.

Author A.J. Gregory has even written a book about it called Messy Faith: Daring to Live by Grace. In the Amazon listing for the book, it says, "While most of us trudge toward the cross with the best intentions, at times our lives just don't pan out the way we've planned. Messy Faith addresses the muddled adventure that we call 'working out our salvation.' It is being sure and unsure, whole and broken, warring, losing, and winning. It is being right and being wrong and having no clue, but believing anyway. And it is trusting in God to perfect the final product of our flawed, human lives."

Sounds like a book I need to read, if only for the reminder that most, if not all, parts of our lives are messy. Yes, we need to clean up many of those messes. After all, if we don't clean up after ourselves, who will? Is it really fair to expect someone to come behind and clean up after us? (Plenty of people live this way, however. One of my pet peeves in life is cigarette butts thrown out of car windows. I want to find the people who do this and make them eat the butt they just threw out. OK, breathe, Brian ... breathe ... breathe ...)

But sometimes we just can't help but be "messy." The book's description continues: "We try to be perfect Christians. But we all make mistakes. Temptation. Doubt. Jealousy. Addictions. Unforgiveness. Where is God in all of this?"

As we head into Holy Week and experience again Peter's denial of Jesus during his trial, it's a good reminder that even though we all fall short of perfection and have "messy faith," God's grace is always there for us.

Have a great Palm Sunday tomorrow morning!

Time to put the glass down!

I get a lot of email every day, and most of it gets deleted without more than a cursory look. And I have written several times during this Lenten season about the biblical teachings about giving up worry and reducing stress.

But when my mom sent the following "parable" to my Gmail account earlier this week, I read it through to the end. I hope you will too:
 

A professor began his class by holding up a glass with some water in it. He held it up for all to see and asked his students: "How much do you think this glass weighs?"

"50 grams!" ... "100 grams!" ... "125 grams," the students answered.

" I really don't know unless I weigh it," said the professor, "but my question is: What would happen if I held it up like this for a few minutes?"

"Nothing," the students said.

"OK, what would happen if I held it up like this for an hour?" the professor asked.

"Your arm would begin to ache," said one of the students.

"You're right. Now what would happen if I held it for a day?"

"Your arm could go numb, you might have severe muscle stress and paralysis and have to go to the hospital for sure!" ventured another student, and all the students laughed.

"Very good. But during all this, did the weight of the glass change?" asked the professor.

"No" was the answer.

"Then what caused the arm ache and the muscle stress?"

The students were puzzled.

"What should I do now to come out of pain?" asked the professor.

"Put the glass down!" said one of the students.

"Exactly!" said the professor.

Life's problems are something like this. Hold them for a few minutes in your head and they seem OK. Think of them for a long time and they begin to ache. Hold them even longer and they begin to paralyze you. You will not be able to do anything.

It's important to think of the challenges or problems in your life, but EVEN MORE IMPORTANT is to "PUT THEM DOWN" at the end of every day before you go to sleep.

That way you are not stressed, you wake up every day fresh and strong and can handle any issue, any challenge that comes your way!

I like and agree with this, though it's not always easy to do, of course. I have a couple of things weighing on my mind these days, and one of them -- money, or lack thereof -- is a constant stress for me. But I can only control certain aspects of this problem, and worrying constantly about it isn't going to do any good.

So as the week has progressed and the problem has seemingly gotten worse, not better, I thought about it from time to time, but when it started to make me physically sick, I knew it was time to "Put the glass down." No matter how deep the hole seems right now, I know it's only a temporary situation.

Good advice, Mom! Thanks for the reminder!

A song appropriate to the storm outside (and those inside)

As today's spring snowstorm continues outside, and minor inconveniences continue to bug me inside, I can't help but think about the "storms" in life. Although both of the things mentioned here are minor in the overall scheme of things, they still bring to mind Casting Crowns' song "Praise You in This Storm:"

 

 I was sure by now
That You would have reached down
And wiped our tears away, stepped in and saved the day
But once again, I say, Amen and it's still raining

As the thunder rolls
I barely hear Your whisper through the rain, "I'm with you"
And as Your mercy falls I raise my hands
And praise the God who gives and takes away

And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands
For You are who You are no matter where I am
And every tear I've cried You hold in Your hand
You never left my side and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm

Because I'm excited to get to see them for the second time this summer at Coors Field following a Rockies game, I chose to include the live version of the song below. Enjoy! (And if you ever get a chance to see them in concert, DO IT!)

Why is Easter so late this year? Valuable vs. trivial information

"The heart of him who has understanding seeks knowledge, but the mouths of fools feed on folly." -- Proverbs 15:14

One question that has come up around me several times in recent weeks is "Why is Easter so late this year?"

Thanks the wonder of Google, I came up with the answer quickly and in more depth than I expected. From http://catholicismbeliefs.blogspot.com:

"Easter is a movable holiday so the date in which it is celebrated changes every year. This can be confusing, especially if you don’t know the rules for calculating the date. It was the First Council of Nicaea (325) that agreed Christians should at least have a consistent way to determine the holiday, but that it should not follow the Jewish calender. This was a pretty controversial decision at the time. It took several more centuries to arrive at our current means of calculating the date. Officially, Easter falls on the first Sunday following the the 14th day of the lunar month (which is essentially a full moon) occurring after the spring equinox. It always falls sometime within the range of March 22nd and April 25th.

What’s an equinox - An equinox is a day of the year when day and night are approximately the same length in time. This occurs twice a year on the first day of spring and fall. In the northern hemisphere, the spring equinox technically occurs on either March 20 or 21st, however the Church recognizes the 21st as the official spring equinox.

Why it’s late this year - This year, the full moon in March fell on March 19th, just two days before the spring equinox. The next full moon does not occur until Monday April 18th. The next Sunday following that is on April 24th, otherwise known as Easter 2011."

There you go -- now you know. Not bad information to have, right?

Certainly more important (or at least interesting) than the fact that actor Nicholas Cage recently found an original Superman comic book that he had misplaced for several years. Or that Miley Cyrus once pole-danced on a teen awards show. Or where Prince William proposed to Kate Middleton (Kenya, last October, if you care).

Why are so many Americans so obsessed with celebrity trivia? Are our lives REALLY that boring and shallow that we spend time reading about such meaningless nonsense? The fact that a game called Trivial Pursuit was one of the most popular board games for years answers my question for me. And I'll admit that my own science fiction film obsession means my brain is full of meaningless information that won't help me put food on my family's table or strengthen my relationship with God.

The irony, for me at least, is that both the meaningful and the trivial will be celebrated during the same week at the end of this month. Easter Sunday in April 24, and the royal wedding will take place Friday, April 29. Sadly, I wouldn't want to bet at this point which one will get more attention from the American public.

Mourning the coming end of an era

"One day at a time -- this is enough. Do not look back and grieve over the past, for it is gone; and do not be troubled about the future, for it has not yet come. Live in the present, and make it so beautiful that it will be worth remembering." -- Ida Scott Taylor

On a day like today, it's difficult not to spend some time reflecting on the past and wondering about the future.

For some people, it was a day to look back at one of the bloodiest periods in this nation's history -- The Civil War, which began 150 years ago. Definitely not a time we can be proud of as a nation, but hopefully we will be reminded over the next four years of commemorations of its lessons and avoid repeating them.

Actually, the anniversary I was thinking about today -- not surprisingly for those who know me -- was the 30th anniversary of the first space shuttle launch (pictured above). Although I wasn't hooked on following every development in the shuttle program when Columbia blasted off from Kennedy Space Center, Fla., on April 12, 1981, that single event would start an era that has been the focus of a lot of my energy through the years.

As a sixth-grader a year later, right after Columbia's STS-3 mission, I saw color photos of the launch in our local daily newspaper and something grabbed hold of me. Nearly 30 years later, it hasn't let go.

During this Lenten reflection time, I can't help but compare my passion through the years for the Space Shuttle Program with the Christian faith journey I have walked since 1994. I still get goosebumps when I watch live coverage of a shuttle launch, and that "warming of the heart" still occurs often in my walk with Christ.

I know I should be more like Jesus' disciples and simply drop everything and follow him in every aspect of my life. In some ways -- through my volunteer service to my church -- I have, though I certainly could do more. I should be focused on things that serve him and not spend time thinking about what's already happened. (After all, I'm the guy who used to tell a college friend who majored in history that she was wasting her time living in the past when the key was to focus on the future.)

But on days like today -- with just two more shuttle flights scheduled before the program ends -- part of me longs for the past. I remember the days spent clipping newspaper articles about each flight, rising at 5 a.m. to record launch coverage on our family's first VCR, and my first trip to Cape Canaveral with my wife on our honeymoon, pinching myself to make sure the places I had seen for years on TV were really right in front of me. I remember a solo drive across the peninsula the day before a training session paid for by the newspaper, wondering if it really was OK to spend some extra personal money on a bus trip right up to the base of the launch pads, even though there wasn't a shuttle on the pad at the time.

And I'll always remember taking my whole family to KSC a few years back on a day-long excursion, taking that same bus tour with my kids, showing them the pads from an oceanside viewing platform and ending the day at a seafood restaurant with the lights of the launch pads and Vehicle Assembly Building reflecting on the bay. I didn't want to leave that restaurant and head back to Orlando. I wanted to stay and continue imagining living there, taking in that great seafood and beautiful view as often as I wanted.

Now much of that is coming to an end, with no clear direction for NASA's manned spaceflight program spelled out. My dream of becoming an astronaut was crushed by the fact I didn't have a scientific mind, and I (wisely, it now seems) never applied for a public relations job with NASA that would have moved me and my family to Florida. Although I never got to see a shuttle in person when it was operational, now it appears I will get that opportunity the next time I visit KSC, since Atlantis will be on display there after its last mission. It will be fun, but it won't be the same, knowing the program has ended.

So although today should be a celebration of three decades of accomplishments -- along with two terrible tragedies -- in the shuttle program, it somehow feels like a funeral. I guess that's appropriate. After all, we take time to mourn the ones we love and celebrate their lives and their accomplishments before we move on with our lives. Maybe this is no different.

Yet another, less melancholy part of me feels a lot like this kid, thankful for the wonderful opportunity to watch and dream:

Pondering suffering: One of life's great conundrums

How is it that you can come to the end of a day that seemed "horrible" and not feel too badly, yet a day that wasn't that bad feels "terrible"?

I suppose it has to do with the attitude you start out with. (Maybe it has more to do with how much chocolate you eat during the day!) But I don't really understand suffering -- what I consider to be one of life's great conundrums.

Today was one of the days that should have fallen into the "not so good" category: While dealing with two minor, yet quite uncomfortable, health issues, I learned that I probably won't be able to go to my gym for a couple of weeks. I spent more time than I wanted to running around in the car at lunchtime, trying to find a solution to one of the discomforts, and I saw gasoline prices drop 6 cents per gallon -- the day after I filled my tank! Oh yeah, and I got a hospital bill in the mail for more than $1,000 after my health insurance has paid its share. So much for paying down debt -- AGAIN!

All in all, not the best day I've ever had. Yet instead of sitting and bemoaning my fate like Job did for about 37 chapters in the Bible, I pretty much accepted that I couldn't change anything by complaining and rolled with the punches today. Not bad, right?

Yeah, I suppose, but what fascinates me about human emotions is that just a few days ago -- when none of the above things had happened -- I was grumbling to myself and "bummed out" simply because a package I ordered for delivery April 5 hadn't arrived, and the company shipping it had no idea when it will arrive because the main item is on back-order.

Although I'm tempted to blame a chemical imbalance (not enough chocolate chip cookies in my diet these days), I truly have no good explanation. Yet as I continue along this journey called life, I'm working hard to roll with ALL the punches life dishes out, rather than bemoaning anything that happens to me.

Just as Job learned that God was still with him, even when it seemed he had abandoned him and allowed him to suffer horribly, I struggle to remind myself that no matter what life dishes out -- major or minor -- there's always a helping hand (or two) reaching down to pull me out of my pit of despair. And when things seem "terrible," it's probably time for a reality check and a reminder that it's not that big of a deal in the overall scheme of things.

That doesn't mean I won't have moody days anymore (sorry, family and co-workers!), but it does mean that I'll try hard to make them fewer and farther between. (In the meantime, if anyone has a magic answer as to why some days seem worse than others, I'd love to hear it.)

May God bless you with an abundance of sunny days -- and when He doesn't, may you always remember that He's still with you those days too!

What's your elephant, and when are you going to start eating it?

Even though the weather was perfect for a morning walk yesterday morning (no wind AND no snow at the same time? No way!), besides the lack of people waving to me, there was another thing that frustrated me.

All along the side of the road, the grassy area was littered with a variety of trash. Although the vast majority of the discarded items were plastic bottles and aluminum cans (plus a disturbing number of airplane-sized alcohol bottles), we also found shoes, a deflated toy football and even a pair of blue jeans!

I couldn't help but wonder how many people and how much time it would take to clean up the mess along this one-mile stretch of highway. And if that was a big task, how much time and how many plastic trash bags would it take to clean up all of the similar (and worse) messes in the world?

Yet when I drove the speed limit along this same stretch of road this afternoon, all that trash was hardly noticeable. And as the spring turns into summer, the grass will grow tall, covering the garbage and making it even less visible. Problem solved, right?

Of course not. But is it worth the time and effort at this point to clean up this rubbish? Those who seem to take the following passage from Genesis to heart would probably say no:

And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.” -- Genesis 1:28

Well, at least we're following one of God's instructions! We've certainly done well in the "fill the earth and subdue it" category, at least in terms of filling it with garbage.

Yet as we approach Earth Day 2011, there are many of us who wish we could wave a magic wand and make the planet a much cleaner place. But given how monumental the task seems to be, is it worth even trying? I mean, what can I do? And will it really make a difference?

I am reminded of the old question: "How do you eat an elephant?" Answer: "One bite at a time."

I'm not interested in consuming pachyderms, but I am interested in at least cleaning up my corner of the world. So I'll gather some trash bags and some willing (or unwilling) children of mine in the next few weeks and do what we can to clean up along the sides of our road. (Do the Earth a favor and clean up your corner of the world, too. Imagine what a difference we could make together if everyone did their part!)

Of course, this is far from the only overwhelming task facing each of us. We all have things in our lives that we put off because they just seem too big -- quitting smoking, getting more exercise, a big project at work, eating healthier, saving money, etc.

What's your elephant? And isn't it time you took that first bite?

Why don't more people bother to wave?

Several years ago, I wrote a newspaper column about this topic, but a walk along country roads in our neighborhood this morning got me to thinking about it again:

Why don't more people wave to each other anymore?

If one of God's instructions to His people is "Love thy neighbor as thyself," doesn't it follow that more people should wave back when someone is waving to them as they pass by? Yet about two-thirds of the people I waved to this morning as they came toward me in their vehicles stayed stone-faced and ignored my friendly gesture.

What were they afraid of? I wasn't waving crazily with both hands to signal that I needed help. I wasn't holding a cardboard sign asking for a donation. No, I was simply waving a friendly hello, hoping to get a wave in return.

I saw the same thing happen last summer as our youth group hosted a free car wash along one of the busiest thoroughfares in Cheyenne. Not only did the motorists not believe we were really giving free car washes (which we were, though some people insisted on giving us a donation), they wouldn't even wave back when we waved to them in greeting.

What gives, people?

This wasn't the case when I was growing up on the farm in Eastern Oregon in the '80s. I'm sure it was part of the farm culture or living in a small town, but we always waved to our neighbors, and nine times out of 10, they waved back.

One of my favorite parts of going to work during the warmer months here is driving toward town on Yellowstone Road and seeing the older gentleman who walks that road every morning. He waves at everyone who passes by. I'm sure he has noticed the same thing I have -- that people just don't wave much anymore.

But he doesn't let that deter him. He waves at every car that passes by -- even those who come up from behind him.

And I make sure he sees me wave back.

Believing in what we can't see

It was a slow journey to the office early this morning, as Cheyenne is socked in completely by a fog bank that limits visibility in places to just a few feet in front of you. I struggled to see the headlights of oncoming vehicles before I decided to risk it and pull through an intersection, especially north of town.

I said a small prayer and trusted that a car without its headlights on wasn't barreling toward me from either direction. I had to trust both in what I could see and what I couldn't.

Which made me think again about our youth group. As we were talking about prayer last Sunday, I got a strong sense that the reason these teens aren't praying on a regular basis is they really don't know whether to believe that God even exists.

I think some do, and the doubt in the others is natural, of course. But how do you teach someone to believe in what they can't see? Is it even possible, or are we wasting our time?

There are many things in life we grow up believing in, even though we can't see them -- gravity, wind, electricity running through wires into our homes. We couldn't "see" any of these things, but we could see their effects -- gravity when we fell off our bicycle and skinned our knees for the 16th time, electricity when we touched the juiced fence around the cow pasture despite our father's repeated warning not to, and wind ... well, this is Cheyenne ... do we really have to talk about the wind?

We didn't see, but we knew these things existed.

So what about God? We see His efforts around us all the time. But how do we convince young people that God really is at work in our world? How do we let them know He cares when natural disasters are killing thousands of people in Japan; battles are raging in Libya, Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, etc.; and people are starving and lack clean water to drink in many parts of the world?

Or to bring it back to situations they may be dealing with, how are they supposed to believe in God when their parents are fighting, a supposed "friend" stabs them in the back at school or a loved one dies unexpectedly? (I have to pause and reflect for a minute on a story I read yesterday while judging a Montana newspaper contest about 2- and 6-year-old boys whose parents were killed by a drunken driver while riding home on a motorcycle. It will stick with me both because the story was well-written and the accident happened on my birthday in 2009. Who's going to convince them God exists when they have to grow up without Mom and Dad?)

I didn't grow up a Christian, so I struggled with these questions and many others at their age. I still struggle with them today from time to time, but my faith and understanding of the Bible reassures me that even in times of tragedy, God is here with us.

Any suggestions on what to tell our youth? Please post them below, and take a moment today to pray for all those (and ourselves) who struggle to believe in what they do not see.

A possible prayer:

Lord, we've read the "Footprints in the Sand" poem hundreds of times, yet we still struggle at times in our lives to believe that you're with us when the chips are really down. Be with us, lift us up, reassure us of your constant presence. And we ask especially that you be with those like some of our youth who don't yet have a deeper faith that helps them to understand that even though they can't see you, you're really there. Touch their lives, God, and help them to know you care. In Jesus' name we pray. Amen.

One "Amazing" way to start the day!

Here's a video that my mother-in-law, Linda, sent me by email recently. I just watched it this morning. What a way to start the day! Enjoy! -- Brian

Time to stop just going through the motions

Day 25 of Lent (not counting Sundays), and just 15 to go. We're on the downhill slide to Easter, folks! Time to put this daily devotional commitment on cruise control and just go through the motions until the end, right?

WRONG!

Too many aspects of our lives are on automatic pilot already. We get up, go through the same morning routine, try to find some variety among the same closet full of clothes, drive the same route to work and do many of the same tasks day-in and day-out at the office.

Then we go home, eat dinner (in my case often without family because I have worked late), watch some TV until we are too sleepy to keep our eyes open any longer, drag ourselves to bed, get six or seven hours of sleep, then get up and do it all over again.

Often we do the same thing in our spiritual lives, don't we? We declare that we're too busy for daily spiritual reflection, Bible study or prayer. Then we go to church on Sunday morning, sit in the same pew and passively listen to the service (participating only when called upon to do so), then head home to spend the next six days without God in our lives. The following Sunday, we go through the same routine.

If this sounds like your life, I'm going to challenge you (and me at the same time) to stop just going through the motions. And not just today, but every day!

Get up tomorrow morning and do part of your morning routine out of the usual order. Brush your teeth before getting in the shower or afterward, depending on what you normally do. (Just don't put your clothes on before you get in the shower. That dripping wet look might not go over so well at the office, unless you're a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model or this guy:)

Get in your car and drive a different way to work. Turn off the radio or iPod and use all of your senses as you make the journey. Look for things you don't normally observe. What has changed since the last time you drove down those streets? What do you hear? If the weather is good, roll down the window and take in the scent of the place, too.

Now you're at the office. Look for ways all day long to shake up the normal routine. I'm not suggesting telling the boss where he can stick the work you don't want to do anymore, of course. But find a way to make it fun -- can you listen to some different music while doing it? Can you share it with a co-worker? What about doing the things you dislike quickly and making time for something you really want to do but haven't made a priority?

Now step back and look at your spiritual health. Isn't it well past time to carve out at least a few minutes each day for prayer, if not Bible study and spiritual reflection? After all, isn't your relationship with God a bit more important than the latest reality show?

Let's all commit during these last two weeks of Lent to stop just going through the motions and start living life to its fullest. We'll all be happier, healthier and more spiritually whole for it.

A virus that's worth spreading around

As I turned a corner headed to the gym today, I saw another driver parked at a stoplight with her mouth wide open in a huge yawn. Which, of course, caused me to yawn.

I'd venture a guess that you just yawned yourself after reading the word here more than once (or looking at the picture to the left). I'm yawning again as I write this. That's because we are susceptible to the power of suggestion when it comes to yawning -- seeing someone do it, hearing someone talk about it or reading about it causes us to do it. It's almost like a virus.

(OK, no more about yawning, I promise -- Y-A-W-N!)

So is our mood. As I've said here before, when I'm in a bad mood, others around me can detect it. Unlike the Y-word, however, many can choose to ignore me and go about their happy day. But if I act out of anger or frustration because I'm in a bad mood, that negativity can carry over to the people I interact with.

My bad mood becomes a virus that spreads through them to those they interact with.

Thankfully, the opposite also is true. If I choose to spread joy -- through teasing someone, cracking a joke or doing a voice imitation -- that positive vibe seems to uplift everyone. It may even give them an energy boost and help them get through a rough patch in their day.

We Christians have an opportunity to spread a similar virus of faith and joy every day. As I said the other day, I'm no evangelist. But I firmly believe that we can show God's love for His people by doing all we can to support those who need a hand up -- whether that's financially or just with a smile or kind word. We also can share our faith in small ways by encouraging people with testimony about how God helped us get through a similar situation or a Bible verse that uplifts us.

When I'm too wrapped up in myself and my own issues (as I have been more than once already this week), this is incredibly difficult for me. I have to force myself out of this selfish mindset and look around at others and where they are in their life journeys. Only then can I keep spreading the kind of virus that most people won't mind catching.

Sending some kudos God's way

Yesterday's youth group discussion was about prayer. Several times, in several different ways, I asked the youth this question: What's the main thing keeping you from praying on a regular basis?

Being the honest young people they are, their answers varied from "too lazy" to "don't see what good it does." The bottom line for them, I believe, is that most -- if not all -- are not convinced God really exists, since they haven't seen Him with their own eyes (I understand; I've been in their shoes.). More on that another day.

But as Lindy and I gave our testimony about the times we pray, I got to thinking about the times when I don't pray, but I should.

Such as when things are going well in my life.

Oh sure, when I'm facing a challenge I don't think I can overcome, I'm on the "red phone" to God as if it were a nuclear emergency and I need a counterattack -- STAT!

But what about thanking him for the blessings in my life? Yeah, I do that from time to time, mostly over meals and when I pray in groups. But what about when small things go well throughout the day?

Just as we like to hear bits of praise from our boss, our colleagues, our friends and our family, don't you think God likes it when we send some kudos His way? Don't you think He gets bombarded enough 24-7, 365 with pleas for help?

Which is why I wanted to pause today and say thanks, God, for all you do. Thanks for the gentle nudges and less-subtle slaps upside the head when I need them. Thanks for the blessings of family, friends, job and enough resources to provide for my family. Most of all, thanks for wanting to have a relationship with me -- a sinner who often falls short of your will for my life, yet loves me anyway!

THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!

Another reminder to "Slow Down"

Here's another reminder from Christian rock group Third Day to "Slow Down" on this day of rest:

Slow Down

Tell me to slow down
If you think that the road that I'm on is going nowhere
Tell me to slow down
If you know that I'm going too fast for my own good
Tell me to slow down
If the way is leading to a dead end
Tell me to slow down
Turn around, let me change the way I'm going

Oh, I don't want to let go
Of all the things that I know
Are keeping me away from my life
Oh, I don't want to slow down
No, I don't want to look around
But I can't seem to work it out
So help me, God

Tell me to slow down
If you see that I'm running too fast in the wrong race
Tell me to slow down
If you think that I can't keep up with my own pace
Tell me to slow down
'Cause you know if there's ever any question
Tell me slow down
Turn around, and I'm changing my direction

Here's the video:

Even though the song is addressing avoiding drugs and other poor life choices (at least as evidenced by the video), I challenge you to read the lyrics again and think about them in a different way. How might they apply to your life?

The first time I heard the song on the CD player in my car, it was at the end of a long week and a busy Friday. I probably don't have to tell you that I felt they were singing directly to me.

Here's hoping you're having a restful Sabbath on this fourth Sunday of Lent. Until tomorrow ...

Anticipate something every day (no matter how small)

As I sit down to write and reflect this Saturday morning, one of my favorite things in life is brewing on the kitchen counter: Chocolate macadamia coffee. Family friends send us a package from time to time, and it's always a treat to make a pot and enjoy the aroma as it's brewing and the taste when it's done.

One of my favorite film soundtracks is playing on the stereo, and I managed to sneak a couple of chocolate chip cookies out of the cookie jar on the counter to snack on (breakfast of champions, right?).

It's the small things in life like these that I have learned to focus on when the "to do" list seems overwhelming. One day it's my morning cup of coffee. Another day it's a lunchtime trip to the gym to spend an hour walking on the treadmill and catching up on my favorite magazines. Yet another it's getting to the end of the day so I can go home, share stories of our days with my kids, then curl up on the couch with my wife and watch a movie or TV show. And most days it involves music -- either listening again to familiar tracks or discovering new ones that I can add to my growing list of favorites.

Maybe I'm just shallow, since every day should be a joyous opportunity to serve God in whatever ways He is calling us to serve, right? But I think we all should have something small we can look forward to each day. Although we certainly have easier, more spoiled lives than many around the world, we can easily let the little challenges get us down.

Whether its battling the elements outside, breaking the small piece of plastic that holds my car visor in place or taking a call from a reader who doesn't like something we've done (or not done) with that day's newspaper, it's easy for me to let the little things turn my mood from sunny to sour.

Yet if I can find a way to move past these little disruptions quickly and on to something I like, life quickly returns to enjoyable.

Although I may have implied otherwise with last night's post, I truly enjoy my job. And one of the best parts about going to work each day is that I enjoy all of the people I work with. They make me laugh, talk with me about things we have in common, share my frustrations and support me in countless ways. Even after 12-1/2 years in the same job, I still feel incredibly blessed to work where I do.

In fact, my coworkers have a great sense for when things aren't going so well for me at the moment and rarely ever fail to crack a joke or do something to put a smile back on my face.

But that doesn't mean I love EVERYTHING about my job. As with any means of employment, there are small tasks I don't relish, and I have days (like yesterday) where it's a constant struggle to find the positive, rather than focus on what's gone wrong. (A good part of my frustration yesterday came from kicking myself for what I didn't do to prevent some of the problems, since I should know better by now.) If there's one thing I've learned by doing the same job this long, though, it's that tomorrow is another day.

Thank you, Lord, for the clean slate you give us each morning. For the people you put in our lives who make each day enjoyable. For the new opportunities to help be the bright spot for those who are struggling. For the challenges that help us grow into stronger, more resilient people.

And, of course, for the chocolate chip cookies.

Who's in control of this car, anyway?

"For peace of mind, resign as general manager of the universe." -- Larry Eisenberg

More than halfway through this annual journey we Christians call Lent, and I still find myself trying to control where the Holy Spirit is leading me in these daily reflections.

Yet time and again, as I pause to write, I find myself reflecting on whatever is happening in my life at the moment. I suppose that makes it more spontaneous feeling and meaningful, at least to me.

So what am I going to do at the end of another long Friday at work, when my whole day seems to have been a series of efforts to exert some measure of control over an environment that seems, at times, to be spinning away from me?

Think about ways to give up some of that control, of course.

As a Type A personality, that thought scares me senseless. You mean I can't control other people's actions? I can't take everything I want out of a good news story, waive a magic wand and instantly transfer it into a group of mostly new reporters? (No one did it for me, so why do I expect to be able to do it?) I can't hit a control key on my computer keyboard and make all errors instantly disappear from our newspaper on a daily basis?

Why the heck not?

Because that's not the way life works? People are human, and humans are going to make mistakes -- including me? Bummer!

So on this long, winding road called life, who's in control of this car, anyway? The simple answer is God.

But is it really that simple? Or is God really in control? Maybe he's like the toddler who sends his Matchbox car rolling along the edge of the top stair, lets it fly off, then watches as it tumbles to the bottom of the staircase. Will it land upright? How scuffed up will it be when it gets there?

I'd love to think God is with me every step of the way, helping me make the right decisions. And when I fall down, he's there, reaching out a hand to help me stand up again -- maybe even helping me brush the dust off my pants. (Or like my son, Conner, likes to do, apply the Neosporin and Band-Aid to my cut for me.)

But what if he just put this whole world in motion and is sitting back, watching things unfold like a NASCAR fan waiting for the cars to crash spectacularly as they squeeze too close together at high speed?

Either way, there's not much I can do about it. Maybe that's today's lesson -- stop trying to exert so much control, do what you can, and let the car go where it's going to go. And when fender-benders happen and the car gets dented, grab a hammer, smooth it out the best you can, get back behind the wheel and keep driving.