Playing Ricky to my Lucy

We often laugh that John spends way too much time playing Ricky to my Lucy. Like the time I bought a tandem bike on the spur of the moment, then it wouldn't fit in my car so I decided to ride it the 6 miles home--even though I'd never done that before. But it was a hot summer afternoon and I had no water and riding a 2-person bike without the other person isn't nearly as easy as riding a normal one so I had to call for help a third of the way home. (Actually I was sitting stopped with my phone in my hand afraid to call John, when Chase happened to call me so guess who rode the bike home?)

Anyway, today was yet another "Lucy and Ricky" day.

A few months ago, I connected with a guy who interviewed me for an upcoming Readers Digest story called "20 Ways to Pray." Then later I got a call from the publisher saying they wanted a photo, and that they were sending a photographer. Then I found out that they wanted both John and I in the picture since part of what we spoke about was that we pray together every night. John said, "Okay."

So, that is how it happened that Thursday, Andy-the-award-winning-photographer from Idaho and Mark-the-lighting-guy-who-normally-does-fashion-shoots-for-Neiman's-and-has-a-passion-for-Indie-films came to meet with us to plan the shoot. Which is when we learned that they were going to shoot us in bed in our pajamas.

John was such a good sport. (Of course we had to go out and buy pajamas, because I'm pretty sure Readers Digest wouldn't want images of us in what we really sleep in. That would be a whole different magazine.)

I was fascinated by what it takes for a photo shoot. First of all, there was a TON of equipment. And, most of the four hours were spent on set up. (Though we did spend two of the four in pajamas.) The magic was in the lighting, and Andy was gracious to show us the change in the shots when Mark made major changes to the lighting--which was fun.

As Andy left, he mentioned something about Readers Digest doing a publication in conjunction with Rick Warren called "Purpose Driven." But I have no details, and my guess is that this is what this is for.

So, at some point you'll see John and I somewhere in some publication by Readers Digest.

In our pajamas.

The Sparkle in the Eyes

Over the past few days, I've gotten to reconnect with one of my elementary school friends via Facebook. Jennifer Wiegand--now Loupe. However that name doesn't feel right in my head (Smile.)

We got to talk for about an hour last night and I learned about her life after high school and her family. One of the things I remember most about Jennifer is how jealous I was of her glasses. I begged my mom to let me have some too. (She said, no.) And how much fun we had in girl scouts. (Still picturing boxes and boxes of cookies in her mom's garage.)

After our conversation last night, I went back to Jennifer's page on Facebook to send her a link and saw a post from Liz Martin--also from school.

And here is the thing: when you are growning up, you don't know yourself. So much is insecure and unsure. But at forty, if you don't get sidelined by life--there is a confidence and a glow. A different sparkle in your eyes. As if the very best part of you--Ron would say the Imago Dei--glows brighter than it was ever able to before.

Anyway, that was the thing I noticed most in Jennifer and Liz's pictures. Just like in high school, they are both still beautiful on the outside, but the spark is the most amazing.

The Handshake Guy

David-the-Artist-Pastor is cool. With spiky hair, earrings, and a closet full of funky shirts, he looks much more like my friends than the pastors I grew up with. David's been instrumental in my growth spiritually more than any other pastor I've encountered. Mostly because David doesn't stand far away on a platform. David lives life with us.

I heard the story of an encounter David had yesterday at a religious meeting in our denomination where a man refused to shake his hand because of his earrings. Specifically the man's words were "I might catch something." At first, David thought it was a joke. Then quickly learned it wasn't.

And while hearing that story may make you feel bad for David, you shouldn't. David is fine. His life and heart are swimming with tremendous grace. Grace which flows easily to "the Handshake guy."

People often confuse the actions of "Christians" like Handshake Guy with Christ. And so it is easy to miss that Christ said things like "Do not judge, and you will not be judged." and "Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these." Or that Jesus was frequently criticized by the religious leaders of the day for His choice of company.

Handshake Guy isn't living Christ. And that is absolutely tragic. It appears he is trapped in a world that has become so narrow, skewed and filled with fear, that he's totally missed the point of love.

And so it occurs to me, that if love is truly more powerful than hate, then all of us could completely rock the world of Handshake Guy. What if we started praying for him specifically that God would introduce him to grace? What if we asked God to so cover this guy in love that like the Grinch, his heart would grow "three sizes that day"? What if we asked that the tiny little cage this man is trapped in were completely broken open so that he could walk around free like the rest of us?

That's the kind of faith I'm signed up for. The one that appreciates both suit-and-tie pastors and pastors-with-earrings, and can set free all of the people like Handshake Guy.

Do we really believe?

Do we really believe that love is greater than hate? That it can overpower it? Is what I've been thinking about lately.

We work so hard to protect ourselves. To not get hurt. To be armed and dangerous.

What if the most powerful thing we could do in the universe is to lay down our lives in love? Turn the other cheek. Offer grace when it is least deserved. Show love to our enemies.

A beautiful idea that breaks down horribly in practice.

But what if it didn't?

Dinner with the Garretts

Last night, we had dinner with Steve and Vicki. If you've ever been to the Garretts you've met Carmen. Carmen is actually the sister of Nancy-the-Insightful's dog, Andy, but where Andy is a fluffy ball of happy enthusiasm, Carmen has a much better sense of her life as a princess.

Carmen greeted us all as we came in and calmly invited us inside. She was very polite and divided her time evenly between myself, John, Steve and Vicki. She showed us all of her tricks, then sweetly asked Vicki for a treat. Carrots. (I didn't know dogs ate carrots.)

Anyway, Carmen was just a small part of a very lovely evening. Steve is an amazing cook and has a fabulous wine collection which he shared. (Honestly, Steve, I've never tasted a Pinot Noir like the J.) Vicki is great at making conversation and while we've hung with Steve and Vicki for years as part of larger groups, it was the first time we've gotten to zero in on them as a couple--which was fun.

The Myth of Self-Esteem

I was once asked to teach a women's retreat for my church with a topic of self-esteem. As I began to research, I found that while there were countless books about it, the Bible was silent on the subject. In fact, scripture seemed to take an opposite approach since it spoke so much on humility.

And yet, I know that what we think about ourselves is important. It affects our stance, our faces, our attitudes...and to a large degree our success.

What I did find is that scripture speaks a lot on the topic of identity. In fact, it is a core concept. It's the reason names were so important. And why God often changed them. Calling Abram, Abraham. And Sarai, Sarah. Jacob, Israel. In the new testament, Simon becomes Peter. And Saul, Paul.

I've often wondered if some of the Jewish law isn't about identity. Things like the command not to cut the sides of your hair. When you see an orthodox Jew with those beautiful curls at the sides of his face, you know immediately who he is.

Elsa-the-Poet and I had a conversation on this theme last week that in all of our relationships we tend to “like” people who make us see ourselves in a way that makes us feel good and “dislike” or be hurt by those who challenge our image of ourselves.

I've observed the power of this in my own life. When I'm confident in who I am and my purpose on this planet, I have an endless supply of encouragement for those around me and can deal with criticism in a healthy way. Yet when I struggle with the questions of who I am and my place in the world, then criticism eats at me and I can easily echo my friend's statement of herself from a darker time, "What's the point of me?"

Groups have this challenge too. Without a clear vision of who they are and why they exist, they often disassemble.

The challenge is that much of our understanding of ourselves comes from the external. What people say about us. How our spouse relates. Input from work or school or children. We carry an unreasonable amount of baggage from the echoes of the past.

Maybe one of the most valuable gifts we can give to each other is the gift of identity. The ability to see the best of ourselves. To notice the hidden beauty and reveal it. To affirm worth. To create that sense of belonging.

Maybe such a gift would change our faces and our stance and help us become who we really are.

Grievance as Identity

A few weeks ago, John and I sat next to a table of two couples at one of my favorite restaurants. The volume of their conversation was fairly high--more so than mine and John's anyway--so we found ourselves listening in. (Bethany...aren't you proud?)

One couple was a transplant from Seattle and the other from the northeast. Both were bonding over a mutual dislike of evangelical Christians. And I learned something about myself. I was fairly compassionate about their religious rant. After all, when you go looking for beautifully perfect God and encounter fully human church, the results can be painful. But then they started in on Texas...and suddenly, I didn't feel so compassionate.

This week Shankman.com has a story on a Twitter slam about Memphis that will likely cost a man his largest client, FedEx.

The thing is, in both cases, the "slammers" were defining their own identities through grievance i.e. We are certainly not this...and we are far above that.

Horribly, I can think of many times when I've done this. Defined myself in terms of what I'm not rather than in terms of who I am and "bitched" with others who felt likewise to both identify with them and to define my own identity.

Michael Lagocki of Art Love Magic said something amazing to me once: Compelling dreams beat burning platforms.

I think that statement is true of identity. Defining identity by celebrating what you are, rather than stating what you are not is far more compelling.

And infinitely harder.

Best Website. Ever.

Seth Godin had a post this week about boring.

Essentially if no one is talking about you, then you are boring. (Or at least your company is.) As a refresher course, Seth is known for the phrase "Be remarkable or be invisible."

Being remarkable is especially important when you are marketing yourself as a person. Jason Mraz's site probably is probably one of the most interesting I've seen to date. At the very least, it is worth mentioning.

Put your headphones on and be sure to listen in "voice" mode.

America's Best Dance Crew

In a post that will make me sound cooler than I actually am...I LOVE America's Best Dance Crew. Bethany's friend, James, came over last night and clued us in that it was the premier of Season 3.

While all the crews last night were truly amazing, I am pulling for the Boxcuttuhz. Their sense of theatre really appeals to me, and I love their "geek chic" look. Dynamic Edition was also interesting with a mix of clog and hiphop that was unbelievably tight. And the Ringmasters had a contortionist thing going on that was bizarre and oddly compelling.

Like with all things MTV the show gets multiple airings so set your DVR. Really good stuff.

The Marriage Discovery

If you've been married for any length of time, you've probably discovered that there is one area in which you and your spouse are completely and totally incompatible. For some it is finances, for others the kids (discipline), or levels of intimacy, or spirituality...the list is probably as infinite as there are people. For John and I, it is what to do with our free time. And as innocuous as that may sound, it can really screw up your life.

I was recently interviewed by an author doing a story on couples who have been married for over 20 years. The first question was one I've heard a lot. "What's the one ingredient needed for a happy marriage?" (Good thing the interview was via e-mail so she didn't see me roll my eyes.) My response was that there is no such thing as "the one thing" and yet there is something I wish I'd learned a lot earlier.

Sybil MacBeth articulated it well in her book Praying in Color. (BTW, Sybil, if you ever Google yourself and find this, I am so completely enjoying your book! And I absolutely LOVED it that there was a Chapter negative 5. Fabulous!)

"I need quantity (time) and regularity. Quality is not something I can predict. My husband, Andy, and I might schedule an elaborate evening out with candles and a gourmet meal, but there is no guarantee that we'll have a wonderful time. Much of our intimacy has been created in the daily-daily of spending time together--chopping onions and peppers side-by-side in the kitchen, reading together on the couch, sitting on the front step watching our sons ride bikes and making plans for our life together."

You have to know that nothing in this world is scheduled for couples to be successful. Demanding jobs (sometimes with transfers required and travel a given), sports leagues, kids school activities, church activities, social and family obligtaions ...nothing about this life is conducive to couples getting to spend quantity time together.

Add to that John's and my particular malady of being wired completely differently in the area of down time and it might not surprise you that we were deficient for a lot of years in the "quantity time." Something we have only recently corrected.

The audit to our schedules has been profound in its results. Cooking dinner and running errands together, putting a couch in John's office, taking walks--heck even just going to bed at the same time has made an amazing difference in that sense of intimacy.

And for all the promise of happy-ever-after, John once sagely pointed out, "If marriage were easy, the divorce rate wouldn't be 50%."

I just wish someone had told us in the beginning that quantity time mattered, and that we'd given ourselves the permission to take it.

A Random Shout Out

A random shout out to Mike Morrell and Philip Scriber at zoecarnate.com who listed me in their blogroll of Sites Unseen: The Best Jesus-Infused Sites You Never Knew About.

I had no idea I was an "alternative Christian" site, but I do think Jesus is amazingly cool and I happen to love Him so He shows up sometimes in the posts. Hmmm...Jesus-infused. I like it.

So thank you, Mike. Thank you, Philip. It's actually nice to know that someone reads this stuff, and according to your list, I'm in extraordinarily good company.

(Smile.)

God in a living room...

One of the things about having a church without a building is a distinct lack of programs. I'm not sure why programs and buildings are so intricately connected, but it appears that they are.

The cool part is that without fixed programmatic infrastructure, people in the congregation are free (time-wise and permission-wise) to develop their own ministries as needs come up.

For example, John and I started RDFL based on a conversation with a grad student about how valuable eating out together was on Sundays for connection, but how difficult it could be on your pocketbook when finances were tight. With the multiple tables in my house, it can function like a restaurant when needed. So, the first Sunday of every month, John and I make lunch. Which has not only been fun, but has also given us the chance to connect with a lot of the younger people in our church we might not otherwise know. (Up to you now to figure out what RDFL stands for.)

Last night, I went to "Second Sunday Sing." Nancy-the-Insightful's husband, Peter-the-Pilot wanted an opportunity for dedicated worship. So, the second Sunday of each month, Peter leads worship in a living room for whoever wants to come. Peter printed the songs in these beautiful little books, and we sang. And I don't know how else to explain it except God came. I'd forgotten the power of dedicated worship in a small group of people because I don't often get that opportunity. It is cool to me that Peter saw that need, then simply made it happen.

You know that part of the Dr. Seuss book when the Grinch has dismantled all of the pieces and parts of Christmas?

Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small,
Was singing. Without any presents at all.
He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming. IT CAME.
Somehow or other, it came just the same.
And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?
It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
"It came without packages, boxes or bags!"
And he puzzled three hours, `till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.
"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store.
"Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more."

It occurs to me we could subsitute the word Church for Christmas without any problem at all.

The Weekend Project

Way up the road from us, somewhere on the border of Frisco and Little Elm is Crossroads Winery. If you move too quickly down Kings Road, you'll dead end into the lake and miss it.

In fact, from the outside it simply looks like a warehouse in a row of other warehouses, but when you step inside on a Friday night, it is one of the warmest, most welcoming places ever.

Little tables on a concrete floor. Christmas lights strung everywhere. Crepe hung walls. Candlelight.

Several months ago--in a bit of serendipity--Crosspointe began making a trade. We needed a place to meet once a month, and the winery was branching from simply weekend wine tastings to becoming a "spot" for music and wine on Friday nights. So, members of our worship band formed "The Weekend Project."

With Brian Coleman doing vocals and guitar, Steve Garrett on guitar, Bill Bolin on drums, Tim Hill--vocals and bass, and the newly added Joshua Friesenhahn on percussion the live music is incredible. The Beatles, the Eagles, Kiss, James Taylor, Tom Petty...even Heart and Bonnie Raitt (with a little help from Kimberly Kelly's power voice).

It is a wonderful thing to end a work week, then walk into a place where you can get a glass of very good Texas wine, the vintner greets you by name, and an ever-changing array of your friends are tapping their feet in time to the music.

In fact, the only disappointment of the whole experience is that they have a fabulous dance floor and yet, my chair-dancing-poser-friends have yet to join me. (Except for Christy who has amazing red dancing shoes and will shake her booty with the best of them!)

So, if you are ever at loose ends on a Friday night and don't mind the drive. Check www.friscowinery.com and find out when the Weekend Project is playing. You'll have a wonderful time.

Prayer of a Six Year Old

Nancy-the-Insightful's son, Ben, is on a cross-country trip to see family before he enters the Marines next week where he has a pilot slot. Ben has worked with SD for the past year programming some new applications for us and before that was part of the AD team throughout his college years.

His blog tells the story of visiting his six year old cousin Elizabeth. This was her prayer for him:

Dear God,

Thank you that Ben got to come here...and thank you that he got to have fun with us...ummmm...and please keep him safe when he goes to the war...and let his team win...and if they don't, please don't let the world explode...and please have mercy on his hair.

Amen.

The Whole Blogging Thing

The very first blog I ever read was Kara Lennox's Diary of a Mad Romance Writer. I met her through a writers group and was captivated not only by her decision to become a writer full-time but the way she changed her life and the commitment it took to get there. Plus, she lived in Robin-the-Artist and Rhonda-of-the-Comic-Strip-Pantyhose's neighborhood and wrote about all of the streets, interesting shops and restaurants I was familiar with. Daily photos sealed the deal and since this was in the days before RSS feeds, I would visit the site and catch up whenever I remembered I'd missed.

Next came Man of Will--the first time I'd ever read a blog of someone I actually knew. Will--an animator--played on John's softball team. The blog shared honest struggles of balancing conflicting dreams of career and family. And more than that, it made me really like Will. After all, I didn't know him. Not really. But through his writing, somehow I did.

And then somewhere along the line, blogs exploded. Google searches turned up useful information simply documented in people's anectdotes...like the rules to card games, or recipes, or how to fix something around the house. The ones I stuck with--the ones I started tracking when I discovered RSS--gave me snapshots into people's lives that are living a totally different life than I am. It is fascinating to read about daily experiences I'll never have, like being a mother to six children and an army wife or being a full-time stamp artist or a worship leader living life amazed by God's work in the real world or a working mom living in South Africa. And the more I've read, the more beautiful to me that the major themes--the human ones--are all the same.

And for all of the "professional" blogs I read--the ones by the writers and the gurus and the technology-geeks--my favorites continue to be the "personal" ones. Writing created for no particular audience at all. The ones that give you a glimpse into the life and struggles of the writer. Where just for a moment you get to share someone else's uncertanty, humanity or random joy and know that life everywhere is at least a little bit the same.

So blog on fellow bloggers. Blog on!

Calling the Lurkers to Come Out and Play!

Okay guys, what's your theme for 2009?

More on Belief

Back when I worked with Lifetime Guarantee, Dr. Bill Gillham frequently made a point by asking: "How did you forget your high school algebra?"

The illustration goes that you didn't forget it by focusing all your energy on x². You forgot your high school algebra by getting busy and concentrating on other things.

In the twenty plus years since I worked there, I've learned that the principle works for just about everything. Rather than focusing on eradicating the negative, it is way more useful to get busy with the positive.

Which brings us to the theme this year...

Kids are sparkly. They believe. But somehow across the years, the evidence mounts up for the other side. Disappointment. Broken relationships. The confusion of living in a world that doesn't sync with what the heart knows in some unwritten rhythm that it should be.

And it is easy to stay there. To be a cynic. Steve Taylor's words from the album "I Predict 1990" are all too true, "Don't you know by now why the chosen are few? It's harder to believe than not to."

And yet...there is a fragile magic to belief.

Thought belief can't create something if what is believed doesn't exist, belief in something true can actually help give birth to it. When the writer of the book of Hebrews penned, "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen..." or when Jesus says "Your faith has healed you" then the person with the belief actually takes part.

Remember the part in Peter Pan, where we all clapped to bring Tinkerbell back to life? (Aw, c'mon, you know you did this!) That scene has power beyond a writer's idea for the play because the hearts of the people in the audience know that there is power in belief. It is the reason we all love Santa. Not because Santa is real, but because something like Santa is. It is why most of us are moved by Kermit-the-Frog's song, Rainbow Connection. We identify with "the lovers, the dreamers and me." We know that there is power in the poets...in the ones who imagine...because there is power in the believing.

For 2009, belief is the one idea, the single verb I want to focus on. More than anything else, I want to believe. To be part of the bringing about.

The Theme for 2009

Nancy-the-Insightful often critiques me for the way I handle reviews. I never want to talk about the year that has passed. I always discuss the year that is coming. (Whenever she complains, I simply laugh and say there are reasons that windshields are bigger than rear-view mirrors.)

In sitting down to write a recap post for 2008, I'm finding it impossible. So, the first post of 2009 is just the theme for the year.

Believe.

And while I could elaborate, the single word seems enough.

Believe.