called to stand here

The church my family attends numbers 600. In our small city, it's one of the larger, although not the largest, in the area. I've been to some of the big churches in the Twin Cities, and I'm not drawn to leave our smaller fellowship. The whole concept of a megachurch makes me leery. Now I've learned about some new evidence that the forces that come together in a megachurch make it susceptible for new versions of old errors. A recent article in a Wharton School of Management publication explores the new phenomenon of product partnerships with megachurches . I'm still thinking about it, but my first impression is that the church's role is to comment on society and provide standards for it's members, helping guide them in moral and practical choices to better reflect the love, justice, and righteousness of our God. Anything else smacks of profiteering. If advice from the pulpit begins to include recommendations on which brand of car to drive, which style of sho...

Two young men were sitting outside on the ground 20+ feet away from their residence hall exit on this beautiful autumn afternoon. They casually passed each other the business end of the hookah they were sharing, looking for all the world like their indulgence was the most mundane, average, typical event taking place at this quiet little university that is looking forward to announcing a homecoming king and queen tomorrow. I'm feeling like the foreigner here. These two defied my reaction that they were doing something odd or unusual. I've heard that this is becoming a trend , and now I've seen it with my own eyes. After a dozen or a hundred sightings, I'm sure I won't give it a second thought. The United States has a long history of adopting diverse cultural phenomena and making them its own. It's a good thing the guys were sitting more than 15 feet from their door--the new smoking policy went into effect last month.

Last week I got a phone call from someone who identified herself as a Republican seeking my donation to her party. I told her I hate political parties and choose to vote for individuals rather than party tickets. She asked, "What if the Democrats win?" Evil can come from either side of the fence. Our Republican brethren are self righteous in some categories, and our Democratic brethren self righteous in others. Each is wrong on several planks of their platform, in my opinion. The Republicans are, however, the only major political party that gets my "yes" on the their stand on abortion . They're also right on the marriage and family issues, for the most part. And the Democrats are unfortunately the advocates of a social reengineering effort that I think is misguided and destructive. These efforts aren't mentioned on their website , for some reason. Alexis de Tocqueville said "There are many men of principle in both parties in America, but there is no pa...

A good friend of mine bruised his heel last week, and had to go to the ER to get it looked at. It made him wonder about the prophecy in Genesis where Yaweh tells the serpent, "...I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel" (Gen. 3:15). Paul works from this when he prophesies that God will crush Satan's head under our feet. I wonder if it's a sign? What if he asked for a sign? Is that ok? We often ask for a sign ... there's some similarity between asking for a sign and asking the Lord to tell us something clearly. Others dear to me have been asking the Lord to give them clear indication of what direction they're supposed to take, and have been really frustrated when the answer hasn't come with the clarity they hoped for. The connection between that first sin and and our desire to know is something that I've been mulling over for the last week or tw...

We're at Life Light Music Festival this weekend. Over 250,000 people over three days listening to around 100 different bands. Too bad it rained. But it was wonderful to be in a large field surrounding the main stage and be part of well over 75,000 singing praise to the Lord--jumping, clapping together. The sense of community was wonderful, and the Church grew for a moment as we joined together in one spirit. After the Jeremy Camp set on Saturday night, we wandered over to the smaller Firehouse stage in a smallish circus tent; big, but not too big. It had a coffeehouse at the opposite end with sofas, easy chairs, and tables. I was looking forward to Jason Upton's set at 11pm. When Jason's band began, he introduced a sense of intimate worship in his unique style, and scores of people entered into that holy place together. Within 30 minutes or so, the other two large outdoor stages emptied out, their scheduled acts done for the night, and most of the people filed past the ...

Last week we marked the beginning of the new academic school year with the University Convocation . Then Margy and I looked at the house we decided to buy --and seven or eight others later in the week! Next, we made an offer on it, and after enough negotiation, we arrived at a deal. The good Lord willing (and the creek don't rise), we'll move at the end of September. There really are lots of things to do before we close on the 15th of September. One of the issues we're up against is the fact that Margy's not going to be permitted to lift anything over 10 pounds until she's made progress toward healing--something that's not coming quickly enough for either of us. But apart from prayer and obeying the doctor's prohibitions on lifting, we're in limbo. She's not ready to give into the surgery option. Not yet. And life goes on. It's amazing how quickly things can move--despite our fear/belief that we were going to be stuck for awhile. But just like t...

Yesterday I drove home from work and saw a "SOLD" sign on the For Sale sign on our house. What an amazing transition from the discouraged place Margy and I were at only two weeks before. She was in the hospital with terrible back/neck pain, and the prospect of cleaning up the house for showings at the drop of a hat stirred up even more pain. So we agreed we'd just take the house off the market and wait until we did all those things on our "to-do" list that was nagging at us. We got the deck done (thanks to Nic), and cleared out the storage room in the basement so it wasn't wall-to-wall junk (thanks to Josh--and us!), but the list included painting, recarpeting the family room, etc. Lots of work. And now we don't have to! But we do need to find another place to live. This weekend we'll start a marathon of looking at other people's houses in the vicinity of the university. Open doors... soon one of them might be ours.

Well, Margy got out of the hospital after only three days. Not that she was well. She'd gotten rehydrated, the pain was more or less under control, and she was eating again. That's a lot to be thankful for; and we were. Today, almost two weeks after her release from the krankenhaus, she had her first real treatment of her back/neck problem. She went to Dr. Jeff, a doctor of osteopaty in Madelia, who put her on a monster machine called a DRX9000 for about 30 minutes. Her head was placed in a special molded form connected to a strap that exerted up to six pounds of pressure designed to decompress her herniated discs. When we drove home, she said she was free of pain in her left arm for the first time in three weeks. Praise God! If she continues to improve with this treatment, she'll probably be visiting Madelia twice a week for the next eight weeks. And then we hope she never has to return again!

I took Margy to the hospital this evening. Her back has been giving her trouble for the past couple months, and over the past two weeks, the pain has rachetted up to the point of unbearable. Last night we made a trip to the emergency room, a critical step toward getting the pain medications necessary to deal with what looks like a ruptured disc on a weekend. Not that the decision to get admitted to the hospital was simple. It only took an afternoon of pain past the threshhold of holding down food, water, anything. So the only alternative is to get rehydrated with an IV, which conveniently can serve as the vehicle for the pain medication and the steriod which will hopefully setting the swelling ruptured disc... Seeing my dear wife in the hospital bed in complete misery was a complex of emotions. Thank God she's in a place where she can really get the care she needs: I was completely over my head. On the other hand, she's not getting relief very quickly: the MRI that they did of...

I'm thankful for the kids in my life. There's nothing like a 2-, 6-, or 7-year-old to remind me that all work and no play makes Ted a dull boy. They need to work pretty hard to convince me, however, that playing is worth my time and attention. All too often I'm consumed with the misperception (read: lie) that I need to focus on some task like ... like... well, you know -- something that squeaks loudly enough to convince me that it needs doing at the moment. I read an article on the differences in how Americans and Europeans handle their vacation time , and it's alarming to see the workaholism that appears rampant here. The observations noted at the end of this article about parents choosing to avoid the stress of vacations with quarrelling children are supported by research into why visits to national parks has dropped from 1.2 visits per citizen per year to 0.9 visits. NPR ran a story on that research that you might find interesting; I did. Apparently the research sh...

I was reading an article by an expert in one of the disciplines in my field. He followed it with some "fun links." One in particular got my attention: the Official Reality Dot Appreciation page. What is there in this exercise that reminds me that we are at significant risk when we trust our eyes? When I do some changes to my fixed focal point, I can see that it's true: there isn't a green dot--just a sequential flicker of on/off that makes the circle of pink dots appear like they rotate; and the "off" condition of the pink dot makes it's complementary color--green--appear in its place. Can we afford not to trust our eyes? Get in your car and turn on the key. You'd better trust your eyes. But I'm not always in my car, and if I use my eyes to tell me what to trust all the time, I'll run over somebody who I knew was in a weakened/wounded state, but I couldn't see it. Paul says we walk by faith, and not by sight ; and that we work our our ...

My wife is one of those people who has no shortage of ideas about how we can live lives that matter. In the first months of our marriage, she told me she felt we were supposed to get our foster license . That resonated with me, and we did it. Over the past four years (it took us awhile to get the paperwork sorted out!), we've had 11 placements, mostly teen moms and their children. A good thing, having a vision that fits in with your character, your interests, and your abilities. We've been blessed with the opportunity to engage these 11 young people's lives in very profound ways, and we've got an adoptive daughter as a result. None of us will be the same—I hope! The challenge comes when Margy and I play the role of tsela ("rib" Gen. 2:21) / neged ("help mate" Gen. 2:18) in each other's lives. There is a critical need for agreement in every healthy marriage, but 100% agreement (or compliance) one to the other gets us to a bored, or even sleepy,...

Over the past few weeks, I've experienced or witnessed lots of significant events. I've also missed some. Here are some of each: Margy and I had our sixth anniversary; special treat was visiting the Lake Home and Cabin Show . What does that say about us? But I can explain: we're in need of answering the question, "What shall we build on our newly purchased lot in Mankato?" we drove to Orlando and visited Disney World , Sea World with Adam, Holly, Isabelle, and Elise ; had a great time. Adam has been accepted for a Fulbright to Norway . Oh, the challenge of a young father of two who will be leaving his family in July for nine months to do research in another country. He and Holly sound like they know what they're up against, and I pray they'll be willing to ask for help as they get into territory they hadn't anticipated. That's hard for independent self-starters. So all of us grandparents of Isabelle and Elise have the chance to step up and love th...

My parents didn't teach me how to be an adult, at least in any formal way. It was just the standard method of child rearing: if you want a car, you'll need to get a job so you can buy it, and then you'll need to keep the job so you can afford the gas and insurance; if you want clothes, you'll need to have that same job. It's a time-honored practice, and lots of parents still use it. And for the most part, it's just fine. But what it can't do is get a young adult really ready for adulthood. I'm only just now, at the age of 53, starting to figure some of these things out. As I reflect back, it was only after I had kids of my own for awhile (like five years?) that I started to really grow up. I don't know if I ever would have made the move into real maturity without the responsibility of children who required of me something I didn't have, or know how to give, up to that point in my life. I'm deeply involved with about 20 young adults, most ...

There have been two suicides on the MSU campus in the past six weeks. I could rationalize that this isn't too far off the odds in a community of almost 15,000; maybe a little weird that the two statistical probabilities that could be expected over a year's time would come within a month of each other. Such are the anomolies of statistics--no big deal, statistically speaking; a very big deal in all other areas. The administration hasn't tried to downplay these occurances by hiding them. Instead they've created a condolence page for expressing the emotions that surround the tragedy that suicide is for all concerned. Although the number of messages posted in this forum is smaller than those posted on the page for the three who died in last year's highway accident on the way to the automotive engineering competition, the need for processing the pain is as deep, and the suvivors' helplessness is as real. But the issue isn't how friends and family members are ...

When I was young (from 3 to 30, say) I loved autumn over all the other seasons. Every year I'd yearn for the lowering sun, drying breeze and the crisp leaves. For me, fall embodied a rich nostalgia that even a youth could relish: the end of the growing season, the first frost and hints of snow to come. At that time I wanted the depth of experience that maturity brings, and autumn's mystique let me borrow those sensations for awhile. I believed the tale that autumn spun in and through me; nothing has ever felt quite the same. Today that tale doesn't fascinate me like it did then. Over the years I've accumulated a boat load of experience and some scars; the appeal of nostalgia that was so sweet then has at least a twinge of pain now, if not a full ache. I don't need to long for autumn any longer to partake of richness and depth. Fall isn't my favorite season any longer. Now it's spring. These 70° days have coaxed the buds out of the trees. Grass is nice, and f...

the big story on MPR this morning was on the return of birds to Alaska . It's never been news that lots of birds return to Alaska in April until this year. Now there are scores of birdologists scouring the countryside scooping up bird droppings to see if any of these fowl are infected with avian flu . The "news" is (almost) always in the fear-mongering business. When I listen, watch, or read the news, I can count on either having my hair stand on end or getting numb from the horror, terror, or shear stupidity of what passes for news. Cynical? yes, I admit it. But I keep listening to see if there might be a positive development in the health of the patient. None yet. This morning's story was rich with the low rumble of a fear that hasn't yet reached an audible level. There have been other stories of many birds and a few people dying from this dread disease in other countries. But we Americans haven't experienced the numbing fear of this plague reaching our sh...

Every new start has to contend with its fits. Fits and starts. Mine goes like this: I'm mulling this turning concept ( see previous post ), but I'm up against the list. Most everyone I know has a list. On mine this week, at the top, is Jasmine's dedication. Jasmine is a special gift from the Lord to Margy and me. Jas came into our lives almost three years ago as a foster daughter who became our adopted daughter at the end of last September. What joy and energy in this girl! So we gave her the middle name Joy. Another fit. So next Sunday we dedicate Jasmine to the Lord. As a gift, this corresponds to what Hannah and Elkanah did with Samuel, although less extremely: they gave their son to God (with the priest as proxy) as a loan for life. For us, it's a public testimony (like a baptism is) of our commitment to raise her in a community of faith in Christ, and also a great opportunity to get together with family and friends and share this milestone in our lives. That's ...

Sunday. Fog. Snow rots in the ditches, but robins aren't far off. That's March in Mankato. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. I'm not suggesting an association of Mankato with the valley of death, despite the rich reality that Mankato is in the heart of southern Minnesota's river (valley) country . No, the valley of the shadow of death is a place in the heart, not a place on a map. Its geography is spiritual, mostly, although it might have a different location in another's experience I don't know about. It's a place I've spent some time in while thinking I wasn't really there at all (denial isn't just a river in Egypt). But there I was, and am at risk for finding myself there again if I don't stand against the beaconing call to visit, or worse: to live there. The end of a weak winter in Mankato incites the hope for a breakthrough in the soul as in the seasons. It's time...