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Showing posts from 2009

the end

The sun is glowing rose from the snow capped peaks across the water. The ferries are gliding calmly. I should have a camera instead of a laptop, but I’m in my chair and, wonder of wonders, the fireplace is on in Starbucks. December is here once again. It’s time for gingerbread and red cups at my “home by the sea”. All in all, it seems like the perfect day to be writing my final installment of this blog. I have come to the conclusion lately that this piece has come to it’s conclusion. Nearly 5 years have passed since I began basically writing to myself while you all have looked on. There is a book in the Book of Books called Ecclesiastes. In this book, written by the wise King Solomon, there is a phrase used throughout the centuries that says “there is a time for everything under the sun”. In other words, all things whether bad or good, must come to an end. I began this with two kids in High School and I end it with one married, one engaged, and a beautiful new granddaughter.

parallel

I knew that I had gotten down here later than I wanted when I pulled up across from the beach and there was only one spot left along the curb. That can only mean one thing….parallel parking… not the most enjoyable start to a morning. I handled it quite well this morning thank you. The second clue to my later than desired start was the amount of faces staring out at me from inside the spacious and usually vacant windows. There was a line at the counter and upon finally getting my usual morning kick and turning around I discovered that my usual allotment of chairs were being occupied. Actually I handled all of it quite well, which might be a surprise to those who know me well. I attribute it to the parking. That might seem odd to those of you who don’t live somewhere that you park sideways more than you park front ways or back ways or long ways or short ways. Some of you haven’t had to park sideways, parallel wise, since your driving test. I envy you sometimes…more now that I h

leaves

It’s been rumored to be the case for awhile now. I’ve known it and certainly my muscles have known it, but the arrival of a beautiful baby girl has confirmed it. I’m old. I’m a grandpa. Lillian Joy was born 9 days ago as a permanent antidote to denial. I decided that I needed to come down this morning to attempt a readjustment. My chair feels good. The sunlit snowy mountains are amazing in their reflection on the water. The air is cold and so is the fireplace. You can’t have it all I guess. It’s been a crazy month. We began the month with the adoption of a rambunctious kitten named Lucy who has taken it upon herself to entertain us and make a valiant attempt at living in the memory of a household legend named Sassy. In addition to all of the extra time and focus that goes with my graduate work, I have to make my 8 day pilgrimage to Portland for face to face classes. Two days after returning, Lillian Joy made her appearance which meant that we had our grand puppy Oliver wh

vote

Throughout my time, both as a follower of Jesus, and especially as a leader of other followers of Jesus, I have felt a pressure to engage my beliefs and convictions into the political system. Just as there is a, perceived by some, moral formula to how live my life as a follower, there is also a, perceived by some, moral formula guiding how followers of Jesus should vote. In my part of the world, as in many parts in the States, there is a political referendum on the ballot this time around of the sorts that can tend to blur the lines of politics and faith. So it goes without saying that well meaning and not so well meaning people on both sides of the issue have distinct views where one should take their moral stand. As a leader of a community of people who follow Jesus, I’ve been asked by other leaders of neighboring faith communities to publicly make a stand in a published letter to the editor in the local print media. That’s a given on any issue of this sort. One side had a spe

teeter totter

So… inspired by the generous act of a friend, I am back on my blog for a momentary return from self imposed exile. My chair feels wonderful and the view, on what’s likely to be the last sunny day of the season, is gorgeous with the sun coming up rose colored and reflecting off of the mountains. I don’t even remember my last time here and really don’t know when my next will come. I’m heading for Portland tomorrow and a week of wringing out my brain in grad school. By the time I get back, if not before, a granddaughter will be born and then all time will most likely stop. So in the mean time, for one more time, I get to listen to Pandora while chasing this cursor across my screen. Much has changed in the blur of the past few weeks, I guess it’s good to slow down for an hour and get my bearings again. It’s been one of those “I have no idea where we’re going, but we’re making great time” months in my house. Life, as it should be I guess, has been a combination of the arrival of ne

presence part 2

As I was beginning my life transition from an occupier of corporate space to pastoral artist, one of my professors imparted some wisdom which was so subtle it almost was not consciously caught. Not catching this piece of advice would have been tragic for my new life’s calling. Very simply, somewhere in a conversation that I don’t even specifically remember he advised that, for all the academics and theories and scholarly answers, sometimes the best thing that you can do is just to “be there”. In fact I think it was actually “be there and shut up”. How’s that for thousands of dollars of tuition well spent? How many times had I already been told to just “sit there and be quiet” for free? My own kids probably could earn doctoral credit for the amount of times that I shared that bit of wisdom on them. His voice has saved me and served me on too many occasions to mention. All of those grief experiences that I’ve shared through the years with people; the inexplicable deaths, and the

pages

Yesterday, being my birthday and a national holiday on top of it, I decided to take the day off from writing…. and most other things for that matter. This morning I am in the comfort of my own chair in what’s become known as my “man cave”. After the calm of the past few days, life is cresting like a wave today. Grad school begins right now as I’m sharing this. There are a dozen last minute details to help my honey with as she prepares the preschool for tomorrow’s start of a new year. Of course there is also the issue of my own role as pastoral artist around here and the fact that I get paid to be one in this community o’ faith. All in all it looks like another 16 hour day lined up, so at 5:30 in the morning, it’s just my coffee, my chair, and my self trying to take a few moments to align my brain with my world. I’m finding myself this morning in an odd, probably birthday induced, unfamiliar tension between past and future, while trying to focus on the needs of the present. My o

heaven

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The beach front is pretty much unrecognizable this morning with the fog that is blanketing the water. The Alki Statue of Liberty seems to be waving at no one in particular. Everything is a pale gray backdrop to the street side monuments and the people walking by. I suppose it could be a bit like a scene from heaven if you believe that we’ll be walking through clouds in the afterlife. I don’t. So there you are. I certainly believe in an afterlife, it’s kind of a requirement for my line of work, but the whole cloud thing is not part of my vision. To be honest, I’ve not thought too deeply about what it might be like. Every time I attempt to it seems that some Hollywood depiction seeps into my brain and waters everything into silliness. Personally, if it’s something Hollywood was able to recreate, then it wouldn’t be all that impressive. I remember watching “What Dreams May Come”….actually I think that I own that one. The imagery that I’m left with of heaven because of that film

ruts

The Monday after a 2 week break can be a bit of a surreal experience. I’m back at Starbucks on the beach, perhaps for the final time. I think that it’s time for a change once again. I’m getting restless. Mile posts are passing and they seem to be picking up speed. I just brought my youngest back to college. I celebrated 25 years with the greatest gift ever given to me and in two months am looking forward to the arrival of a granddaughter. We are now in warp drive. One might say that this is to be expected when you are “over the hill” and headed down the other side. Trust me, I’m not there yet. I’m still trudging uphill at the moment. I’m listening to the Eagles sing about wasted time this morning and it’s forcing me to contemplate some things. First of all, how do these guys, older than I am, harmonize like that in a live setting? Really..... Secondly, I wonder how close I am to slipping into wasted time? There is a point, I’m thinking, where the familiar becomes all too u

whatever

I stopped by Hotwire this morning since I’m running behind again. It’s been a profitable stop since there were still some of my wife’s scones available. I’ve never been into the scone thing since moving out here….that is until my wife began her baking company. I don’t like scones because I don’t like dryness coating my mouth like a blanket. Really…if I wanted a mouthful of baking soda, I’d just pour some on my tongue. Hers are different. I’d eat them like a bucket of KFC if I had the chance. Anyway, it might sound odd that I have to pay for some of my wife’s baking, but it’s a sacrifice that is well worth it. I’ll do whatever it takes. I don’t encounter many people anymore with a “whatever it takes” attitude. Oh I know many who will say “whatever it takes”, but when encountered with various opportunities for “whatever” they shrink back with a “but not that” attitude. In my life as pastoral artist, I used to encounter communities o’ faith that were in desperate need for a cha

Pandora

In the midst of a Seattle heat wave, I’ve taken a break from the beach for a moment and am getting caffeinated in another chair in the secret garden of Hotwire Coffee’s outer courtyard. The perpetual plant sale and conveniently placed fencing are providing some good cool relief. It’s just me, the plants and Pandora out here at the moment. Pandora has been a constant companion over the past several months. It’s basically an online personalized radio station. You type in an artist or a style or even a song, hit enter, and a radio station is created. Each time you open Pandora, it begins at your last chosen station and away you go. The interesting part is that you have no idea what’s coming next on the queue, although you do get the opportunity to rate the choice either a thumbs up or a thumbs down. After time, if you hang with it, it compiles your own approved and personalized station. If something comes up, then you also have the opportunity to just skip over it. I find the na

litter

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I pulled a shoe out this morning from under our shoe rack near the front door. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I keep sweeping and cleaning, cleaning and sweeping and it still somehow seems to live on. I find it in cracks, in vents, behind the magazine rack. The fact that it has found its way into our living room in this past year has been almost too much for me. It’s the worst part of having a cat. She and I were constantly at odds these past few months about her toilet being in my living room. But now, in some cruel act of fate thumbing its nose at me, the cat is gone and all that remains is her litter. A week ago, Sassy, my friend and nemesis for 17 years, was tragically killed in a fight with a pit bull. To my wife, she was an angel….actually her own personal angel. Anyone who watched their relationship over the years would agree. Those who knew her will say that her end was, in a way, a fitting exit. She went out in a final burst of attitude. If I hadn’t been

choice

This morning, in the early morning hour on my way to the beach, I saw a familiar vehicle parked nearby…. and I avoided it. It was in the parking lot next to my house. You might wonder why I’d bother avoiding a parked vehicle, especially one parked nicely in a lot. It’s not like I’m not used to them, except for the fact that this one was actually between the lines, which, I’ll admit, can be a rarity around here. It wasn’t the car, it was who I suspected was sleeping in the back of the car. During my 10 years here in the urban world, I have become acquainted with a great many homeless individuals. A handful of them have become more than casual encounters. I have developed personal relationships with them. In the lives of these individuals I have seen homelessness from a few different angles. I have seen it come as a result of mental illness, as was the case with a man known as Father Joseph who, for some reason known only to babies and dogs, found me to be a sympathetic friend.

stroller

On the beach one more week….my chair was calling me. So here I am with the chair, the sun, the mountains across the water and perfect families pushing their children in baby SUV’s . I wonder if kids who spend their early years being pushed in these huge contraptions will be predisposed to driving Escalades when they are older? Whatever happened to the umbrella stroller? I don’t see those much anymore in the land of excess. Not many people are staying in here this morning, they’re on the run it seems, even more than usual. They’re running to their busses, running with their dogs, running behind their baby coaches, clinging to handbrakes. It would seem to me that any transporter of cute helpless little humans that is in need of a handbrake just needs to slow down. What are we teaching our kids anyway, that life is always about running? You’d never see anyone running behind an umbrella stroller. One bump and those things fold up like an accordion. I remember, one thing that mad

chair

This morning I’ve changed up my routine. My daughter needed a vehicle more than I needed to go to the beach. Don’t weep for me because, as this is Seattle, all I had to do was walk out my door and I’m in another purveyor of caffeine. This morning, I’m not just in some old substitute. I am in the one and only Hotwire Online Coffee drinking my favorite caramel latte highlighted with cinnamon. I also have opportunity to actually eat an amazing breakfast concoction from by favorite baking establishment, Companion Baking Co. The bakeress is none other than my own gorgeous wife, and yes I have to buy the stuff once in awhile like any other neighborhood consumer. Trust me, it’s worth it. The only thing I’m missing is my favorite chair and the crowd of the retirement group that has been following me around for the 3 years that I’ve been writing this blog. I doubt they’ll find me here and even if they did, there’s no room to congregate. Starbucks was good for the view but the community

dandelions

And so begins day 29 with no rain here in Seattle. If we make it through the day, we’ll set an all time record for this time of year and possibly severely damage our reputation as a rainy, gloomy, fleece and umbrella haven. And yet, Al Roker continues to talk about “clouds and showers in the Pacific Northwest”. I wonder if he’s ever been here? My lawn would whole heartedly disagree with his observations. All of this sun has come at a price. The emerald city has become a bit more brown….at least on my block. My own water bill has become an investment as I try to keep some green in my back yard. This has become my own version of an automobile bailout….investing way too much and way too late. My back lawn has become a parable of sorts for me. It is a living example that no matter how much the investment, if the foundation is suspect, then you’re simply peeing in the wind. If you’re a guy, you get the analogy. A few years ago, some very well intentioned people made the inves

stadium

Some days are more “Monday-ier” than others. I know that I’ve shared this sentiment before, but today it has come to pass once again. Arriving down here at the beach quite a bit later than usual, the first sign should have been the lack of parking. It’s a gorgeous day, to be sure, but it’s easier to enjoy when I can park. The other sign was the “retired bunch” beating feet to get their caffeine before I could get to the door. Apparently it was important this morning for the eight of them to get ahead of the one of me. Whatever…. it was enjoyable to have contributed to their unplanned morning jog. It didn’t matter to me, even though I’m the one on my way to a JOB! But the sun is out and the only thing bitter here is the coffee. At least I have my chair, and my headphones, and my live DVD of “The Boss”. Not really having any idea where I was going to go with this today, I decided to enjoy the concert footage for a bit. It’s very therapeutic . It inspires me that guys who are e

bearings

So yesterday afternoon, after what has seemed like years, I finally began to feel like I was getting my bearings. You know what that it is….it’s your internal balance and sense that all is right with the world. It’s been a long haul in the weeks since our house was broken into. I’m not sure if that was the start or not, but at least that is as far back as I can remember at this point. I haven’t felt at all like life was much of anything that is familiar to me. I haven’t been to the beach much, which is never a good sign, and even when I did come I wasn’t interested in writing anything. We even threw in a weeks vacation that was wonderful but really probably only served to keep me from going completely over the edge. Anyway…..back to yesterday afternoon… I was feeling level again. Last night we relaxed out on the deck with the urban version of a campfire, a chimnea. I even had to buy the bundle of wood from Safeway. I did bring it home and split it so I keep a bit of my mascul

wilderness

I tend to use my writing as a barometer of how life is going for me. As I look back over the years of these posts, I can usually tell what general frame of mind I was in. Whatever seemed to be the general tone of my existence usually leaked out through my keyboard to leave a permanent recording of my mental state. Someday, someone could come along and trace my progression into madness….whatever. Probably some first year Psych student could pull that one off. If the writing can tell something , then I guess probably the silence can as well. Some weeks, the words just run over from my life onto the screen. Sometimes the inspiration doesn’t come so easily. It’s been so long since I’ve even felt like writing. It may be the longest gap since I began this almost 3 years ago. I’m not really feeling very much inclined this morning to write either. Last week, my wife and I took a short sabbatical to worship the mouse down in LA. We took full advantage of the sun, the palm trees, a wo

innocence

This past week we had the, quite unplanned, unwanted, unnecessary, uncool, opportunity to know what it feels like to be a victim of idiot thieves. We joined the thousands who have been victims of “forced entry burglary”. Our house was broken into on Wednesday afternoon within the one short hour that we were across the street at the office. The general theory is that we were being watched…..like I should feel important or something that low life thieves with bad family histories were watching my life. The only thing that I take comfort in is that, for all the effort they went through to turn our house upside down like a CIA raid, there was not much to be had. I wonder why that is? Oh, yeah, because we don’t have much. Don’t get me wrong, as far as much of the rest of the world goes, we are wealthy beyond measure, and we are grateful and enjoy everything that we have. What I mean is, in the land of thieves, it wasn’t exactly “Oceans Eleven”. Certainly not worth going to jail for

collage

In my early days of existence, I can remember being asked if I had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. I came to understand that as a social commentary about the mood that I was in. I didn’t really know what that meant, I mean really, as long as there is floor on both sides for me to step down on, I don’t see what difference it makes which side I wake up on. Unless it has something to do with the olden days, when people were so poor that they could only afford one side of a bed. I’m not sure how relevant that saying was in my formative years. However, every once in awhile, I do feel as if I woke up on the opposite side of the world. It’s not like it’s the wrong side, it just feels opposite. It may be because the first ¾ of my life has been spent on the east coast, I don’t know. This morning it was sparked by listening to an old Jackson Browne tune on Pandora that I used to listen to quite often in my dorm room during my days at the University of Buffalo. For a brief moment

missing

I just put my youngest on a plane back to Boise at the end of her Spring break. A few weeks ago I find out from my oldest that I’m going to be a grandpa this Fall. A few nights ago we celebrated my honeys birthday with a bowling party. If all of these things don’t send me the message that I’m not as young as I’d like to think I am, then maybe the arthritis in my elbow will help reinforce the point. The encouraging thing is that I get to live to fight another day. I’m not sure if it was the realization that I would now have another family members birthday to remember when memory is getting thin, or the pain in my elbow, but I have just recently begun to have a crisis called “what difference do I make?” If you haven’t experienced it yet, you someday will. You might be in the middle of it yourself. It’s not necessarily an age thing. Actually, it is how I wandered into the pastoral arts profession 20 years ago. It just seems to come when the dust settles and a moment of clarity a

mirrors

I’m enjoying a few days way from reality while I recover from a mystery illness that has annoyed me for the past few days. As it is completely possible that one of the causes may have been stress related, I’ve chosen a few days away from the source of said stress, namely my office. Anyway, something within me thought that perhaps a trip to the beach and a grande drip from the new purveyors of instant caffeine drinks would be somehow relaxing….. must have been the drugs talking. I forgot that the Tuesday crusaders against peaceful coffee existence would be in force….namely the retired group that has pursued me through numerous caffeine excursions over the years. One humorous episode that came from them this morning was their insistence that the music be turned down as it was just too loud. This, in the midst of them driving everyone, who didn’t have the benefit of headphones, far from them to the other side of a fairly spacious room. Personally, smooth jazz was far more appealing

dreams

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You’ve heard the term “dream job”? Some of you are living it no doubt. I can appreciate the idea of having a dream job. There are some days, most actually, that I think that my existence as pastoral artist within my community o’ faith is a dream job. After all, how many of the rest of you get to do research and study time at coffee shops and cafés? If you do, I hope that the fireplace is working for you Anyway…., dream jobs are one thing, but I hate it when my actual dreams are invaded by my actual job. Far be it from me to complain but, since so much of what I do is for others, I’d prefer to reserve my dream energy just for myself thank you. I woke up this morning with the annoying realization that my dreams, at least the part that I remember, and who really cares about the rest…, were invaded again by my working environment. It makes it seem that I was working even in my sleep. Now there are some in my community who probably feel that I must have been working in my sleep whe

daylight

Being the morning person that I am, I have to tell you that I’m not a fan of the Spring version of daylight savings. It doesn’t help that the first two days of it have come cold, dark and snowy. Part of the benefit of moving to Seattle was to get away from those places where it was still snowing in March. It didn’t happen for the first few Spring times that we were here….just long enough for us to settle in and decide never to move again and now….global warming in reverse. I know, don’t write me letters…global warming doesn’t mean that your place may get warmer, it might mean that the climate is all screwed up. Well it certainly is here and no amount of Dave Matthews in my headphones can take away the fact that I’m sitting at Starbucks on the beach while it is snowing and the only thing matching the daylight savings darkness outside is the darkness of the fireplace inside. But hey, at least we have instant coffee……whatever. Does anyone know if the theory behind stealing an hour i

fruit

It’s morning at the beach, Bruce is in my headphones asking if Rosalita is gonna come out tonight and I’m mourning the passing of another great ideal gone with most of the rest of the credibility and self respect that our economic system once held dear. It’s like listening to the great big flushing of a toilet as you watch all manner of honor and dignity swirling down the hole. Listening to Bruce reminds me that at one time in our history hard work and honorable character might eventually bring respect and success. Now it seems we need either the instant fix or the government bailout to keep our self esteem intact which, God knows, is the most important commodity being traded on our cultural floors. It’s bad enough that I’ve lived through this era of cold damp days with dark fireplaces. I’ve now seen the once proud ideal of the Starbucks experience breathe it’s last. I should have known that something was up this morning when the gulls were shrieking at me in unusual numbers out

yesterday

It’s so interesting to me, if you live life slow enough to pay attention to it, that you can wake up one morning in one part of the country and then literally wake up the next morning in an entirely different experience. I’m back in Seattle, by the beach….again, in the snow….again, with a cold dark fireplace….again, when only yesterday morning I was waking up in a Portland hotel ready to wade through one more day of grad school. A few hours on the road, a few stops to catch up with friends, a few hours of sleep, and just like that I’m waking up to snow. I’ll have to admit that I’m not too disappointed because my pessimistic self thought that we’d not experience snow again this season since buying my SUV last month. It wasn’t enough snow to deal with 4 wheel drive this morning, but I sure felt the confidence that I could have had I wanted to. So here I am, the sun is out on the mountains and the waves are high and crashing over the bulkhead. It has that really cold, if I fell in I

blink

A new week has managed to manifest itself right on schedule. It seems as if I’m still in the last one. In fact, it seems as if I just blinked and 5 years has gone by. I’m heading today for round two of my grad school marathon week of classes. I’d swear that I just left round one, but according to the calendar that was over three months ago. It is startling how fast time flies when you hadn’t really decided if you’re having fun or not. Maybe it’s the over the hill thing manifesting itself in my life. I hadn’t realized that I was over the hill. Thing used to go slower, or so it seemed, like steadily climbing uphill. In my headphones this morning Bob Dylan is singing to me about being “Like a Rolling Stone” and according to every bit of physics that I’m aware of, they pick up speed on the down side. It all happened in a few blinks. I blinked and my kids were not babies any longer. I blinked and I was living in the Midwest. I blinked and I was back in Syracuse. I blinked and t

shimmer

So who said that I’ll never see any more snow once I bought my 4x4? It didn’t take long. Waking up this morning to the little bit of crippling white dusting that unexpectedly came overnight, I said a prayer for those in parts of the country with real weather struggles this morning. After all, I’m still down at the beach, the coffee is hot and wonder of wonders, so is the fireplace. Maybe that body wash I used this morning really does make a difference. It, and by “it” I mean the body wash, is supposed to make a difference in my life. It is supposed to add shimmer, whatever that means. A friend this past weekend said that she noticed a new glow about me. I think she’s full of crap, she just had some insider information from my wife regarding our personal toiletries. ( I’ve always wanted to use that word in a sentence) Anyway, I’m never at a loss for amazement when it comes to advertising claims. If I’m ever at a point in life where I need the advertisers to shore up my self es

crossroads

I’m in another crossroads kind of setting this morning. You know the kind….dusty flat fields that you can see for miles around, somewhere in the Midwest undoubtedly, four way intersection of 2 country roads, no sign markings and no one around to ask for directions….like I would anyways. Let me clarify….it’s not like its 7 am Tuesday morning February 3rd, 2009 and I have to turn right, left, or go straight. It’s taken me awhile to get here and there’s no hurry to leave this intersection…it’s just that eventually I will have to leave. I’ll have to step one way or the other. I have thoughts and dreams as to which way I’ll go, so it’s not without any idea, but just as it is with many of these crossroads, they may all look the same, but they are far from it. I don’t have experience with this one. Like Gandalf in the mines of Moria, “I have no memory of this place”. In case you’ve never been at a crossroads, let me tell you that you don’t just wander up to it. You get there in the

200

It’s been an interesting day so far, maybe not so much for a Monday. It’s kind of like the Twilight Zone. I woke up this morning to clear skies….that should have been a clue right there. I came outside and started up a new, for us anyway, vehicle that we just bought yesterday. Down at the beach, there’s plenty of cars and even plenty of buses, but not many people at all. Inside Starbucks, the fireplace is actually on. … Now I’ve realized that something is definitely wrong. I boot up this trusty laptop only to have, for the first time ever, the file transfer wizard appear asking me if I’m ready to transfer my files to another computer. This can’t be good. It’s very confusing to me until, upon opening my “Office” files, I discover that, at the moment at least, none of them exist any longer. That could be bad. Now I understand the file transfer prompt….too late for that. Interesting…… This very weekend my wife and I have been praying for realignment, to focus on what is importa