…For 30 Minutes

Then the Lord said to Joshua, “Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged….”
Joshua 8:1a (NIV)

Everyone who knows Wendy and me knows that we are baseball fans. In particular, we’re fans of the Chicago Cubs. Right now there is a lot of excitement in our house as the regular season opens next Monday night. The first game against Anaheim will start at 9:00 p.m. CDT. We will just be getting back from rehearsal. We’ll see how much of it we actually watch before we fall asleep. (Thank God for DVRs!)

Of all the major league sports, baseball’s season is truly a marathon. In the NFL’s 16 game season, every game is technically important, as one loss can come back to bite you when it comes time to the playoffs and home field advantage. In baseball, there are 162 regular season games between the beginning of April and the end of September. The best of teams will lose about a third of their games and occasionally suffer humiliating defeats. Even the worst teams in the league will win a third or more of their games and occasionally beat the best teams.

The Cubs manager, Joe Maddon, instituted a tradition in the Cub’s clubhouse last season. When the Cubs win, there is a party in the clubhouse for 30 minutes. Loud music, disco ball, dancing, shouting, and basking in the joy of the moment….for 30 minutes. Then, it’s back to work thinking about the next day’s game. Likewise, when the team loses, they are allowed to grieve for 30 minutes. Mope, scream, cry, commiserate, and feel the discouragement…for 30 minutes. Then, its back to work thinking about the next day’s game.

Our life journey is more like baseball season than football season. We all will experience our share of victories, and our share of defeats. No one, no matter how good the press and social media make them look, runs the table and is exempt from suffering loss and hardship. Everyone strikes out.

In today’s chapter, Josh and his team have just suffered an unexpected defeat after the huge victory at Jericho. It was the let down after the big game. Reality check. There is a sudden sense of gloom permeating the clubhouse. God, like a good manager, only lets the grief last for 30 minutes. It’s time to get the team’s focus on the next game: “Don’t be afraid. Don’t be discouraged. We’ve got a game against the King of Ai today, and I’ve got a game plan for one you’re gonna love!”

Today, I’m thinking about victories I’ve experienced in this life, and defeats. No matter how bad the loss, there are victories ahead. No matter how great the victory is, I’m going to strike out again at some point. As sure as the sun is going to rise and set. I need to let myself enjoy the victories…for about 30 minutes. Then I get back to work. I need to allow myself to grieve the losses…for about 30 minutes. Then get back to work.

Go get ’em.

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featured image by yozza via Flickr

I am Achan

And Achan answered Joshua, “It is true; I am the one who sinned against the Lord God of Israel. This is what I did: when I saw among the spoil a beautiful mantle from Shinar, and two hundred shekels of silver, and a bar of gold weighing fifty shekels, then I coveted them and took them. They now lie hidden in the ground inside my tent, with the silver underneath.”
Joshua 7:20-21 (NRSV)

The story of Achan is fascinating. God miraculously delivers the city of Jericho to Joshua and his big band of trumpet players. The walls of the city come tumbling down and the nation of Israel plunders the city with one simple rule: don’t take any of the pagan idols or things used in the worship of the idols and false gods of the people of Jericho. Does this remind you of anything? (Hint: “You can eat of any tree of the garden except for that one in the middle.”)

Sure enough, a man name Achan takes some forbidden spoil for himself in direct disobedience to the order (that would be calls sin) and then hides it by burying it in his tent (that would be called shame). God clues Joshua in that someone has disobeyed and, eventually, Achan is confronted and confesses his sin. Achan and his entire family are stoned to death to rid the nation of sin (that would be called a “scapegoat”).

When I was younger, I always saw the story of Achan from the idealistic view of the majority. “Achan, how could you ruin it for the whole nation? Dude, you knew the rules! How simple was it just to do the right thing? What an idiot!

As I have progressed in my life journey I have increasingly come to terms with a simple fact: I am Achan. I am the child who, at the age of five, stole all the envelopes with money in them off my grandparent’s Christmas tree and buried them in my suitcase. I am the one who is guilty of lying, and cheating, and stealing, and breaking my word, and being disobedient to God and my loved ones. Not just once, mind you, but over and over and over again. If I point the finger at Achan, there are three pointing back at me.

In the context of the Great Story, Achan serves as a thematic waypoint. Achan hearkens us back to Eden and reminds us that the problem of sin has not been dealt with.  Achan reminds us, in the moment, of one of the meta-themes of God’s great story: one little sin taints the whole. As Jesus put it, one smidgen of yeast affects the whole loaf. Achan reflects our fallen human nature’s penchant to blame one for the failure of the whole, and a Cubs fan need only to hear the name Bartman to realize that human nature has not changed across time. Finally, the story of Achan is a foreshadow of the solution God will provide when He will send His one and only Son to be the One who will die the death that idol stealing and  Christmas money stealing criminals deserve. Jesus will be the sacrificial lamb and make atonement for the whole.

This morning I am once again humbled by an honest reflection of my own shortcomings. I am thinking about Achan and accepting that I am him. Throw the rocks, man. I deserve it. I am once again grateful for that which we have just celebrated: God becoming man to die for my sin, to take my shame on His shoulders, and then to rise from the grave to give grace, hope, forgiveness, and redemption to one such as me.

 

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Purpose in the Process Prepares Me for Performance

Then the Lord said to Joshua, “See, I have delivered Jericho into your hands, along with its king and its fighting men. March around the city once with all the armed men. Do this for six days. Have seven priests carry trumpets of rams’ horns in front of the ark. On the seventh day, march around the city seven times, with the priests blowing the trumpets.”
Joshua 6:2-4 (NRSV)

Wendy and I are just two and a half weeks away from opening night of Almost, Maine. Every production has a life of its own and this show is no different. The normal rehearsal schedule for a non-musical spring show is 8-10 weeks. We’ve put a few shows on stage in 4-5 weeks. Almost, Maine was cast on December 13 and there was a read through or two of the script before Christmas. We’ve took a break for the holidays, a week’s hiatus in February, and another week for spring break in March. Nevertheless, we will open the show 17.5 weeks from the day the cast announcement came out. That’s a long amount of time to rehearse for four performances.

When it comes to shows, my Wendy and I are “process” kind of people. We love the rehearsal process. We love digging into characters. We love experimenting on stage. We love exploring how one costume piece or prop can transform a character. We love the exploration of the human condition and interpersonal relationships. We’ve done some very unique activities over the years as part of the rehearsal process. Some of them would look quite foolish to the casual observer. There is, however, a purpose to the process that prepares you for the performance (how’s that for alliteration?).

As I read God’s instructions to Joshua and the people of Israel this morning, I couldn’t help but think about process. It all seems a bit silly to the casual observer. March around Jericho once a day for six days. Blow the trumpets but otherwise keep silent. Repeat seven times on the seventh day, then shout. Then, as they say, the walls come a-tumblin’ down. Wow. Okay. Really? You want me to do what?

Along life’s journey I’ve come to realize that God is a great Director with a flawless sense of pace, timing and preparation. God understands process. There was purpose in the exercise of obedience for the people of Israel. There was time, an entire week, to consider that this victory had nothing to do with their human brilliance, strength, or tactics. Obedience to the prescribed pre-victory script would remind the players that there is value in sticking to the plan, and that would help ensure their adherence to the post-victory instructions, as well.

I woke in the deep watches of the night this morning. It’s been happening quite frequently of late. My spirit feels that God has some impending act on the schedule. Opening night is growing closer. I can feel that life has been rehearsing us in preparation for it. But, like Josh and the band marching around Jericho on the fourth day I’m still scratching my head as to what we’re actually doing or envision how this is all going to work out. It’s okay, though. I’ve learned this in theatre. Stick to the rehearsal schedule. Continue in the process. Some rehearsal periods are four weeks and some are 17.5. Some might even be 40 years. Trust the Director.

 

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The Latest 03-27-2016

Happy Easter!

Coffee with Grandma Jeanne!
Coffee with Grandma Jeanne!

It’s been a busy week. I’ve been working on a couple of big client projects on top of on-going rehearsals for Almost, Maine. Earlier this week I did, however, get a chance for a coffee date with my mom in Des Moines. Dad VW has a nasty case of bronchitis, so we left him to rest and mom joined me on a few errands for work. We then took a leisurely drive through the old neighborhood and reminisced before ending up at Grounds for Celebration in Beaverdale. Mom had a chocolate shake and I had coffee and a cinnamon roll. When we got back to their apartment dad was sound asleep on the couch getting much needed rest.

Click on this banner to order tickets online. This is a great show for date night or a small group outing. I promise you'll love it!
Click on this banner to order tickets online. This is a great show for date night or a small group outing. I promise you’ll love it!

We are two and a half weeks away from opening night for Almost, Maine. YOU MUST SEE THIS PLAY! It is really a fun production that is all about LOVE in all of its hilarity, poignancy, tragedy, and mystery. Show dates are April 14-17. Tickets are available on-line by clicking here. For all my friends in Des Moines, this is a wonderful date night opportunity, or a unique night out for a small group. Plan to come to Pella. Have dinner at Monarch’s or Kaldera. Enjoy the show. Have a local craft beer at the Cellar Peanut Pub after the show. I guarantee you’ll have a wonderful night!

On Thursday night after rehearsal the cast (& Lighting Director, Arvin) went out for drinks and bites at Kaldera thanks to Director Kevin and his lovely Costumer wife, Linda. It was a wonderful evening!

Our offices were closed on Good Friday. Wendy diligently cleaned in preparation for Easter guests. I took the opportunity to aerate and over-seed our fledgling yard. We were both tuckered out and enjoyed a quiet night at home.

On Saturday morning we worked with the Almost, Maine cast and crew to clean-up the back stage areas, green room, and dressing rooms in preparation for our upcoming Tech and Production weeks. Wendy and I headed to Des Moines in the afternoon. We spent a few hours with mom and dad hanging out and enjoying some conversation before heading to Kev and Beck’s for dinner.

This morning we went to worship then picked grandma VH up on our way home. Wendy’s folks and Suzanna arrived shortly thereafter. It was a quiet, laid-back Easter feast of sandwiches and some goodies Wendy prepared. It was an enjoyable afternoon of conversation. When our guests left we relaxed to watch the Cubs lose a spring training game to the Mariners while chatting with Madison in South Carolina and leaving Easter greetings with Taylor (she was working today).

 

Reflections on 10 Years of Blogging

Today is my 10th anniversary blogging. On March 26th, 2006 I set up a free blog in three easy steps and wrote the following simple post:

It’s sunday morning and the house is getting ready for church. Why is it that the whole household can be up, ready and out the door by 8:00 Monday thru Friday, but  on Sunday you can’t make it to church on time by 11:00? <sigh> One of life’s little mysteries.

That was the beginning of my journey. Ten years and 3,412 blog posts later, I’m still going. I am not, by most people in the blogosphere’s standards, the definition of success. I haven’t made a fortune. My number of subscribers remains very meager. I have about 240 subscribers through WordPress and a reach that extends to a couple thousand people through Facebook and Twitter. On a typical day my blog gets about 150-200 views.

On this 10th anniversary I’ve been looking back and reflecting on what I’ve learned in my blogging experience. Here are a few thoughts:

  • Know your motivation. My blog has always had a very simple motivation. I just want to write about my life journey. I want to record my thoughts and experiences on different subjects. I want to share what’s going on with family and friends. As time has gone on I realize that my blog serves as a diary and a record. It will be an accessible archive for children, grandchildren and future generations of my experiences and my heartfelt thoughts. I have come to accept that my blog will never generate tons of subscribers simply because not that many people know me or are interested in my vacation pictures.
  • Know your content focus. Your motivation determines your content. The vast majority of my posts over the past decade have been my chapter-a-day posts. If I was really trying to establish my blog as an inspirational of devotional blog I would center my blog on those posts and reserve my personal journal, theatre, and photography posts elsewhere. My motivation, however, is for my blog to be a repository of my personal thoughts and experiences. My chapter-a-day posts are simply a record of my thoughts in my own daily quiet time. I’m not trying to preach to anyone or market myself as an author. I’m just sharing my daily, personal thoughts after reading a chapter of the Bible. My blog is a wide-angle lens on my life and it includes all kinds of different posts. A blogging expert would tell me that my wide range limits my audience, but my motivation has never been to build a big audience. I just want to express myself.
  • Just write. According to a NYTimes article, 95% of blogs are abandoned. I’ve known many who have started a blog, but after a post or two they walk away from it just like the Ab Cruncher they purchased ten years ago and used twice. I would argue that most people stop blogging because they aren’t really motivated, they struggle to know what they want to say. I think many people get discouraged that the world does not beat a path to their URL. Blogging requires a certain amount of fortitude. You’re going to write a lot of crap that no one wants to read. Keep writing. Post regularly. Be content with a few followers. The first six years of my blog I averaged about 15-20 views a day. It’s only in the past few years that it’s grown ten-fold. I’ve come to accept that blogging is about the journey, not the destination.
  • You never know what’s going to resonate. I have written a lot of really great posts, at least I thought they were profound. Virtually no one reads them. They never “get legs.” Then, I’ll post a random thought hastily typed and with little consideration and it will start to generate all sorts of traffic. I’ve given up trying to judge or prognosticate.
  • The rewards are not what I thought they’d be. I will confess that I, like most aspiring bloggers, have pipe dreams of my blog becoming wildly popular. I regularly talk myself off that ledge and laugh at myself. I then remind myself of everything I’ve written in this post thus far. The rewards I’ve reaped from my blogging journey are not what I expected, but I consider them to be priceless:
    • I’ve become a better writer. When I go back and read some of my chapter-a-day posts from the early years I regularly cringe. They were so short. The thoughts are undeveloped. Ugh! The contrast, however, serves to remind me that writing 3,412 posts is going to make me a better writer. I value that.
    • I’ve met some really great people. From my early blogging mentor, Mike Sansone, to people like Terry, Samantha, Jonathan, Michael, and David. My blog has opened up opportunities at relationships and networking I might otherwise have never had.
    • I have built an online personal reference source. What year was it that we took that trip to Cooperstown? Do you remember what year we performed Much Ado About Nothing? My blog makes it much easier to find definitive answers. Trivial, perhaps, but I value it.
    • I’m leaving a legacy. Those most close to me, my family and my friends, will have a record of my life experiences and my thoughts that will live beyond me. I sometimes think of my love of family history and how much I wish I had a journal of my great-great-grandfather to learn what life was like for him, what he thought, and what he felt. Perhaps I will have a great-great grandson or granddaughter who will appreciate my little blog. Maybe I’ll have the opportunity to have a positive impact on their lives.
    • I occasionally make a difference in someone’s day. Every once in a while I’ll get a message or an e-mail saying something like, “Thanks. I needed your post today.” Rarely do I get to know how or why. It’s nice to know, though. I’m grateful when people tell me, and it helps motivate me to keep going.

Thanks to those of you who follow along on this journey. Thanks to those who stop by now and then. Thanks especially to Wendy and Kevin R. who regularly discuss, respond, and encourage. Here’s to the next decade!

The Secret of the Stained-Glass Revealed!

Stained Glass Message Collage

First of all, an apology to those of you who have asked me repeatedly about my post, late last year, about my dad telling Wendy and me that he had planted a message in the stained-glass window he created for our new home. I have no good excuse other than not getting around to posting the answer. My dad told us at Thanksgiving that if we didn’t guess by Christmas he’d reveal it to us. To be honest, we only got the answer partially correct.

As we looked over the stained glass repeatedly during the holidays we could use our imagination to see different ways our initials could be configured, so we both wondered if dad had planted our initials in the design. We were correct, but we didn’t quite see clearly how he did it.

There are 13 gold squares scattered throughout the window like dots, and when you connect the dots, they make a “W” and a “T.” And, what’s kind of cool is that it doesn’t matter which side of the window you’re looking at, it’s still a “W” and a “T.”

Our stained-glass continues to be a source of daily joy for both Wendy and me as we enjoy its color, beauty and light from the most used and lived in space of our home. Can’t thank dad enough for his special gift (and secret message).

 

“Don’t Be Afraid; Just Believe”

“…their hearts melted, and there was no longer any spirit in them….”
Joshua 5:1 (NRSV)

Earlier this year our local group of Jesus’ followers ran concurrent series of messages on Sunday mornings. In one room there was a series on fear and in the other room my friend Matthew and I did a series on shame. It was a fascinating juxtaposition of topics because both fear and shame have similar paralyzing effects in people. The series in both rooms have proven to “have legs” as the topics continue to resonate with both Wendy and me in our conversations and in our lives.

I assume that’s why the phrase above leapt off the page at me this morning. The word pictures are vivid reminders of fear’s debilitating nature. A heart has melted. There is no heart left to believe, to hope, to yearn, to persevere, to strive, to survive, to pump the blood and muster up courage. The spirit is gone and there is no breath of life or inspiration. Lifeless. Dead.

Once again, I am reminded how often the phrase “Do not be afraid” and “Do not fear” are found in God’s Message. Over, and over, and over again we are encouraged, admonished, and commanded to choose not to be afraid. And, the antidote God routinely gives to counteract fear is belief. Have a little faith; just a smidgen will do. Place your trust in God, even when you don’t see Him.

Don’t be afraid; just believe.
-Jesus

Not a bad reminder for this Good Friday.

 

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TBT: Meredith Junior High Student Council 1978-79

Meredith Junior High Student Council  1978-1979

I was deep into the archives when I came up with this gem from the fall of 1978. This is the Student Council from Meredith Junior High School in Des Moines, Iowa. (L-R) Eric Creach, Bruce Vertanen, Julie Peterson, Andy Muller, and yours truly.

Yes, I was wearing white overalls.

The Power of the One Ring (Not THAT One)

Those twelve stones, which they had taken out of the Jordan, Joshua set up in Gilgal, saying to the Israelites, “When your children ask their parents in time to come, ‘What do these stones mean?’ then you shall let your children know, ‘Israel crossed over the Jordan here on dry ground.’
Joshua 4:20-23 (NRSV)

I have a ring that is worn on a chain around my neck. Those who know my life-long love of Tolkien are likely to think it some homage to the ring of power in Lord of the Rings. The ring around my neck may be a ring of power, but its power is not in magic, elves, wizards, or the stuff of imaginative fantasy. The ring around my neck was a gift to me from Wendy. She gave it to me before we were married, and its power is in the meaning it holds for her, and for me.

The ring was and is, for Wendy, a special reminder of a waypoint in her own spiritual journey, and the things God had done in her heart and life. These things are a part of her story, thus they are hers to tell and I will leave it at that. When she knew that I was to be her husband and that God was bringing me into her story, the ring became a gift to me. It always hangs around my neck. It is a ring of power, even if its power is limited in significance to Wendy, me and God.

Memorial [muh-mawr-ee-uh l] noun. Something designed to preserve the memory of a person, event, thing, etc.

In today’s chapter, the people of Israel were called to create a memorial. Twelve stones, one stone for each tribe, were piled as a reminder of what God had done in drying up the River Jordan so that they could cross. They would preserve the memory of that event. When future generations asked about the pile of stones, they could learn the story.

We generally think of memorials as a reminder of people after they die, but memorials can be a powerful tool in other ways. When God does something special or remarkable in the life of a person, a couple, or a family, it is an opportunity to create a tangible memorial of His faithfulness, provision, deliverance, miracle, answered prayer, or etc. The memorial can be a powerful reminder, even if its power or significance is limited to the person, couple, or family involved.

Today, I’m thinking about the ring that has hung around my neck for nearly 11 years, and the fact that 99.9 percent of the time I forget that it’s even there. But, I catch sight of it in the mirror as I shave, or I feel it pop out of my t-shirt when I bend over, and it reminds me of Wendy, her journey, and her gift. It reminds me in the moment of what God has done in her story, in my story, in our story. I am reminded once again of grace, provision, and redemption.

Therein lies the power of the ring.

 

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The Messy Balance Between Acting and Waiting

“Yet there shall be a space between you and [the ark of the covenant], a distance of about two thousand cubits; do not come any nearer to it.”
Joshua 3:4b (NRSV)

Last weekend Wendy and I watched the recent film version of Shakespeare’s Macbeth. It is a fascinating story set in the dark ages in Scotland. Macbeth is a warrior with relatively low rank among the nobility of the Scottish clans. On his way back from a successful battle he encounters three witches, also known as The Weird Sisters, who utter a prophecy that Macbeth will be named Thane of Cawdor and King of Scotland.

Macbeth writes his wife a letter and tells her of this news. Then, while still traveling home, he is advised that King Duncan has named him Thane of Cawdor, just as the sisters prophesied. Upon arriving home, the Lady Macbeth urges her husband to man up and take hold of the second part of the prophesy. King Duncan makes a surprise visit to the Macbeth’s household and Lady Macbeth sees this as her husband’s chance to make the prophecy come true. Macbeth, at his wife’s urging and insistence, murders King Duncan in his bed. The second part of the prophecy is thus fulfilled, but a madness of blood-guilt and paranoia is also unleashed that will ultimately doom Macbeth and his wife.

The story of Macbeth raises an interesting spiritual dilemma. Do you step up and try to make a prophecy come true, or do you sit back and wait to see if the prophecy is fulfilled of its own accord? Wendy and I spent some time after the movie exploring the question. We recalled an experience from recent years in which we watched a person strive, in Macbeth like fashion, to make what they believed had been prophesied happen. The results were similarly tragic, though certainly not as tragic as the bloody carnage of Macbeth!

In today’s chapter, Joshua is told by God to send the ark of the covenant out in front of the people into the Jordan River. No one is to get within 2000 cubits (e.g. approximately 3000 feet/900 meters) of the ark. When the ark enters the river, the waters are miraculously stopped (just like Moses and the Red Sea) so that the people can cross.

I found this to be an interesting word picture and an unexpected continuation of our Macbeth conversation. In murdering Duncan, I would argue that Macbeth tried to get out in front of the prophesy. He may have crossed the proverbial river into the promise, but the result was ultimately tragic as he refused to wait for the natural course of events to take place, if they ever would. Macbeth and his Lady were short on faith. Instead of trusting that the prophesy would be fulfilled at the right time in the right way, they were compelled to make it happen. In contrast, Joshua tells the people to stand back, make way, and give God room to get out ahead and clear the way. Only then shall they cross.

Today I’m reminded of the messy balance between doing what I’m called to do and, at the same time, waiting on the Lord. I don’t want to get out ahead of God or presume to stand beside. I also don’t want to lag behind and get off course. I want to follow at an appropriate distance and attentively follow where we are led on Life’s path.

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