We Clean Up Good

My wife and I at a friend's wedding in mid-July ... we clean up good, don't we? I was actually standing up with the groom, hence the tuxedo. But the whole experience - plus the fact my son has a steady girlfriend - set me to thinking about my own marriage, and questions I wish someone had asked me before I got married.

No doubt nothing would have changed, Bonnie's a wonderful woman and I have ABSOLUTELY no regrets, but these are some things I wish someone had made me at least think about before we knitted and knotted our lives together.

Do you understand everything will change? Can this person change with you?
Between the ages of 18 and 24, everything changes. Every. Thing. The way you look at the world, your social circle, the way you handle money, the way you look at the rest of the world, the way you eat and sleep, your views on religion, politics, sexuality, and every other big issue and in the middle of all this change you have to figure out where you fit in to the big picture of life for the next 50 years.

There's an old joke that says "a man marries a woman thinking she'll never change, and a woman marries a man thinking she can change him ... and they're both wrong." At the time most people get married, their life is already in a constant state of flux and growth and change ... and now you're adding another whole life into that mixture. You'd better both be sure you can make those changes together and come out the other side as stronger, happier versions of yourselves.

What goals do you have in life? Can this person help you achieve them? Can you help him or her achieve his or her own goals?
If not, better to wait. Because marriage is forever. At least it's supposed to be. You want to climb the Himalayas? Does he? Does she? If not, there's a dream gone bust and a regret that will simmer in the back of your heart until an innocent disagreement over the way you brush your teeth erupts into a full-blown marital World War III.

Old hurts and missed chances have a way of popping up and ruining a relationship unless you are able to thoroughly and completely let go of them. And that's a dang hard thing to do.

Do you make each other laugh? Can you carry on a conversation all night long? Apart from the snuggling and social activities and dates, do you long to be near this person?
In short, is this person your friend? Your best friend? Because the passionate flames will turn to smoldering embers soon enough and there's only so much money to keep you occupied with activities and dates ... in the end, there's just the two of you. If you can't find happiness - and by that I mean true contentment, the joy of just "being" - with this person, then perhaps you still haven't found the right one for you. Keep looking.

How do you feel about children? When do you want them? How many?
It's amazing to me that most couples only have a vague idea for an answer to this question. "Yes we want children. No, not right away," are about the only answers I hear. Do you understand how much wiggle room is in those statements? Define "not right away," for starters. One year? Two? Ten? Is this how the other person defines it?

See earlier paragraph on being able to change with one another.

Finally, can you keep your word?
Because that's what it all comes down to: making a commitment to this person for the rest of your long, long life and sticking to that commitment through thick, thin, and all the gooey stuff in between. The marriage vows kind of cover all the territory here: richer-poorer, sickness-health, better-worse, forsaking all others until death do you part. Those words should strike terror into your heart that only a complete and utter trust in your own fidelity and integrity can quench.

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Those are the questions I wish I'd been asked. From this end of the calendar I know the answers. 23 years ago, maybe not so much. But I sure would have liked the chance to think and talk about these questions with my fiancee. Who knows how she would have answered? Who knows what would have happened?

What kind of questions do you wish you'd been asked?

Independence Day, 2006

I wrote this in Mark Mail today:

I never quite know how to feel on patriotic days. I am an American by birth, a Christian by second birth, and those two sometimes walk hand-in-hand and sometimes, by necessity, are poles apart.

As an American, I'm proud of our accomplishments, ashamed of our excesses, horrified by our abuses, and yet confident of our future.

As a Christian, I feel much the same way, actually, only with a good deal more humility and not nearly so much pride, and I am more than confident, I am absolutely convinced of an eternal destiny and a bright, heavenly future.

I saw a sign outside a church I passed yesterday that set me on to this thinking. It said, "American and Proud, Christian and Humble." That is the unique dynamic in which we find ourselves - Christians, I mean - living.

Personally, I'm not sure I know how to do that. Any ideas?

What I Saw in Mackinaw

Photo of the Day: My girls, Amanda on the left and Bonnie on the right, in something of an extreme closeup. We've had an awful lot of fun up here in Mackinaw City the past four days. We rode on a ferry, rode on a horse, rode in a carriage, and walked until our legs were sore. Personally, I'm still recovering from that stupid horse.

I tried to upload some vacation photos to my website, but the Internet connections here are just not cooperating long enough to do anything. Watch for them to be there by Sunday evening.

Today we toured the Mackinaw Point Lighthouse, climbing 51 spiral stairs through four floors and 11 rungs on a ladder to reach the tower top. The lighthouse ran from 1892 until 1957 when Mackinac Bridge opened. The Bridge has flashing lights at the top of its towers, which rise 552 feet into the air, making the lighthouse obsolete. The Bridge also has its own foghorn. Five men were killed in its construction, though we were told the builders expected to lose a baker's dozen. It was built for $99 million and in three years, coming in under budget and on time. It is the country's longest suspension bridge. There will be a picture of it on my website by Monday.

Then we hiked over to Fort Michilimackinac, which was built by the French and occupied by the British until 1779, when they moved the whole thing over to Mackinac Island and a better defensive position. The fort was carefully reconstructed and today is the site of the longest ongoing archeological dig in Michigan. A dig that began in 1955 we took pictures of today.

Tomorrow we start for home, much to the chagrin of everyone. I only hope our builder finished the bathroom remodel....

Of Forts, Fudge, and Ferries

Photo of the Day: That's me and Midge. Midge is the horse. Midge had a mind of her own. I'm wondering what I'm getting myself into. We went horseback riding on Mackinac Island at the insistence of my daughter. Next time I'm renting a bicycle.

We spent Wednesday on the island, enjoying a carriage tour and Fort Mackinac and the ferry ride over from the mainland, and we've even had a little bit of fudge. There are at least four fudgiers (is that a word?) who claim to have the state's best fudge. Fact is, you mix that much sugar with that much chocolate and it's hard to tell the difference.

I put a whole bunch of other vacation pictures up at my website. Have a look if you'd like.

There are only four vehicles with large combustion engines on Mackinac Island: one ambulance, one police car, and two fire trucks. Everyone else gets around by horse or bicycle. During the winter, it's either a horse or a snowmobile.

And we found the reason Mackinaw/Mackinac are pronounced the same. The Ojibwa Indians called the area "mishilimakinak" ... which means either "great turtle" or "many turtles" depending on your interpetration. The island was given the name Mackinac by the French fur traders and when the English settled the city in the 1880's, they gave it the more phonetic pronunciation for a name.

We spent Thursday in the city proper, having a good look around, playing some miniature golf (Bonnie won), and then we slipped across the big bridge into the Upper Peninsula and journeyed over to "Mystery Spot" in St. Ignace, which was founded as a tourist attraction in 1955. It's claim to fame is that gravity seems to work backward in this little 150 square feet tract of land. My wife claimed she grew lightheaded upon entering the "spot" so maybe there's something to it.

Tomorrow we're off for a tour of a lighthouse and the colonial land-bound fort here in the city, before taking in a Beatles look-alike show in the evening. Should be fun.

Mackinaw City

My mother's condition has stabilized, allowing us to go ahead and take our family vacation, as originally planned.

So here we are in Mackinaw City and today we're bound for Mackinac Island. Can anyone tell me why those two are spelled differently, but pronounced the same?

So far the word we've coined most often is a concoction of my daughter's: "purtiful." It's a combination of pretty and beautiful. The scenery in northern Michigan is certainly purtiful.

I'll try to post a "Picture of the Day" later this evening. My Internet connection here at the hotel seems to be a bit dodgy, but I'm more determined than it is.

In A Heartbeat

This is my Step-Mom. Hazel Esther Raymond. It's a pretty good picture, isn't it? My nephew and amateur photographer, Chad, snapped it recently. Just by looking at the photo, you'd never believe that she'll be 87 years old this November, would you? She's a petite woman, coming in at just under five feet and just over 100 pounds.

I wish I could show you the picture I took two days ago in the hospital. It paints a gruesome portrait of a woman suffering dearly from an automobile accident that may end up claiming her life.

My dad and mom were driving west on a Michigan highway in an Olds Silhouette minivan, with the cruise control set to 55 m.p.h., when a car driven by a 17-year old (carrying three other teenagers) attempted to cross the highway directly in their path. My dad barely had time to tap the brakes when they hit. The passenger side of the other vehicle was driven nearly to the center of the car and into the ditch. Inside the van, the impact was so sudden and hard that the seatbelt broke my mother's sternum as the airbag deployed and smacked her in the face (saving her life in the process). Both her hands smashed against the dashboard and when the van spun a complete 180 degrees, Mom was thrown against the arm rest, breaking a rib.

During the same time, my father was thrown into his airbag, bruising his nose, and his head was thrown back so violently he fractured the C-2 vertebrae in his neck, as well as bruising both legs against the steering column and dash. Being a larger man, the seat belt merely bruised his torso rather than breaking anything. Again, despite any damage caused by the airbags, they are both alive to tell you this story because of them.

Well, Dad could tell you. Mom is still lying in the neurological ICU as I write this, an oxygen tube in her nose and a fluid tube down her throat. Her arms are black and blue from the elbow all the way down into the palms. She cannot talk. She suffered a mild heart attack late Sunday night, but because she was in the Intensive Care Unit, they were able to administer aid quickly and now she's in stable condition. Pneumonia and/or congestive heart failure remain very real possibilities. Her life hangs in the balance.

We may never know or understand why the other driver felt it was safe to cross that intersection. Was the sun in his eyes? Did someone or something distract him? Did he think he had time to cross? Was he more concerned about impressing the three girls in his car than he was about driving safely? All we know is that of the four people in the car, the front passenger broke her leg severely but everyone else walked away with bumps, bruises, and lacerations ... despite the fact they were trapped so badly in the mangled automobile that paramedics had to cut the roof off the car to get everyone out.

In a heartbeat, my parents lives have changed. Perhaps irrevocably. The only "blessing" that can currently be found in this situation is the outpouring of love from all those who have been touched by my mother and father's ministry in life and are lining up to offer their help, support, and encouragement. It has also brought my stepsisters and I closer together. And I got to spend most of last week with my Dad, helping him adjust to life in a cervical collar. We haven't spent that kind of quality time together in, literally, decades. It's an honest shame it takes such a tragic event to trigger these "blessings."

In the end, only God knows and time will tell what roads this story will take.

Miscellany

Just a few scattered thoughts today. The picture is from my wife, taken this morning as Tregilgas Tree Service went to work, owned by the husband of the daughter of some good friends of ours. Networking! Wes is lopping off one of the branches and then he did some tall acrobatics for us, which are not pictured. We'll have plenty of "before" and "after" pictures, but I'll probably put those up on my website.

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Our builder also dropped off our siding materials and he took some more door measurements as well. He'll start in earnest tomorrow. The materials are being stored in our garage so one of our cars has to park out in the street for about six weeks. Eh, a minor inconvenience.

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I saw the very definition of "uncouth" the other day. I was in the restroom at my postal unit, and there was a man using the urinal ... talking on his cell phone. Ewww! And then HE FLUSHED, leaving the caller *no doubt* about where he was and, more grossly, what he was doing. People, people, people, let's conduct our affairs with a little more decorum, shall we?

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The concerts this past weekend were a blast. The guys of "Big Daddy Weave" are all really nice and I recommend you run out or go online and purchase all of their CDs. We got to have a bite to eat with them in the "green room" before the show and had some time to chat. The sound company was over an hour late, so all the sound checks were rushed and we were feeling a little anxiety about that, but we just decided to leave it in the hands of the Lord, play with confidence, and have fun. And boy, did we!

Someone in the audience came up to Bryan, our lead guitar guy, and told him how much she enjoyed our music and that "she heard our stuff on the radio all the time." Bryan had to let her down gently and let her know we don't have anything on the radio, we just cover popular music in our band. Still, a nice compliment.

The Lapeer Art Festival was also nice. The weather was gorgeous, we got to play twice as long as we did the night before, and there were some really creative artists and their works on display along Nepessing Street, which is the main thoroughfare through the business district in Lapeer. We played on the lawn of the courthouse, which is the oldest courthouse in the state of Michigan.

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We've finished making our vacation plans. We'll be heading up to Mackinaw City and over to Mackinac Island in a couple of weeks for a few days. We were supposed to be going on tour with my daughter's community choir, but that fell through when not enough kids (or their parents) were able to commit to doing the tour. So we decided to make it a family week. I'm looking forward to it.

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Well, the tree service folks have got their commercial-grade chipper up and running again, just outside my office window by the curb, and it's nearly dinner time here, so I'm going to run. Thanks for reading, as always.

What are YOU doing for vacation this year?

- FLASH -

Haven't taken a snapshot of things since last February, so I'm due.

What I'm reading: "Unlearning Church" by Mike Slaughter and Warren Bird. It's about how the church needs to "unlearn" traditional methods of connecting people with God because we no longer live in traditional times. (There are some who would say that's a shame. Not me, but I understand the sentiment.) It's the kind of book that makes me put it down every few pages because something will grab my heart or my mind and I'll have to spend some time meditating and digesting it.

What I'm hearing: Not any one CD right now. My musical energy is focused on a couple of upcoming gigs my band is playing. The first is as the warm up band for national recording group "Big Daddy Weave." That's kind of a big deal for us. The other is the very next day as we play at the inaugural Arts Festival in Lapeer, Michigan. There have been a couple of songs that have grabbed my attention recently, however. One is "Bless the Broken Road" by Rascal Flatts. I love the lyric in the refrain: "God bless the broken road that led me straight to you." The other is the new single out by Mercy Me: "So Long Self." It's got an infectious 1960's style melody and some great lyrics. That band just keeps turning out great song after great song.

What I'm watching: Not much since the summer rerun season has begun. I enjoyed the season finale of "NCIS"; Gibbs won't quit for long because that show would collapse without Mark Harmon. We taped the season ender for "Lost" but we haven't watched it yet, so NOBODY TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS. Other than that I'm just keeping an eye on the baseball highlights.

What I'm celebrating: The successful refinancing of our home over the past couple of weeks. Without going into all the gory details, we were in some pretty severe financial straits in 2003 but with some good professional advice, some smart living and good choices, some long hours on the overtime list, and the grace of God (always the grace of God), we're back on top of our game, or nearly there. Not only were we able to sign contracts for $21,000 of external home renovations, we also are getting the bathroom remodeled, paid off both mortgages, tucked some extra cash in the bank, and still lowered our monthly payment by nearly $200. The only drawback? The mortgage that had only 14 years left to its payoff date now has 30 years once again. Hopefully we can add a little bit to the principal each month and get that date drastically shortened.

What I'm trying to get done: The aforementioned renovations, the aforementioned concerts, and get my son home safely for the summer months.

What I've paid money to see: "RV" was very pleasant, indeed, and certainly more enjoyable than the critics led me to believe it would be. We also got a big kick out of "Over the Hedge" and especially appreciated its gentle jab at our conspicuous consumerism. We're going down to see the Detroit Tigers play some baseball tomorrow afternoon and that's bound to be pretty good, too.

The smartest thing I've done lately: I'd like to say "hire the right builder" but only time will tell. The renovations start June 5.

Rainy Days and Wednesdays

It's been raining on and off for a week, now, with no end in near sight. Cloudy, cold, and hardly Spring-like. I can't remember the last time I had nothing to do and nowhere to go, but all this rain has me thinking about how nice that might be.

The first thing I'd do is sleep. The kind of deep sleep where you soak your pillow with the drool and wake up to three civil noise infractions from your neighbors due to the snoring.

Then I'd bail out my Inbox so Outlook Express doesn't go under from the weight of so many unfiled e-mails.

I'd catch up on some of the fantasy baseball research articles I seldom have time to read.

I'd brew a half pot of coffee and munch on toast and butter while reading some backlogged magazines.

I"d explore some new secret intimacies with the missus.

I'd curl up in a corner of the sofa with a really good science fiction book and go walking amongst the stars and visit alien vistas and feel, somehow, mildly disappointed when I put the book down and realized I was still here on Earth.

I'd reread my prayer and scripture journal and make a new entry.

I'd break out the Cribbage board and play a few matches with my kids.

I'd dust off some of the DVD/Video boxes in our collection and watch some classic movies or television shows.

And then I'd sleep some more.

So what would you do on a rainy day with nothing to do and nowhere to go?

Forty Niner

So I turned 49 years old today. It's just a number, right?

I certainly don't feel any older. Well, in an "all-at-once" kind of way. I mean, in the aggregate sense of changes building up over time, well, yes, I feel older. The beard I see in the mirror is no longer red. The lines around the eyes are there all the time, not just when I smile. I've caught myself grunting upon occasion when I get up off the sofa.

And just the IDEA of actually running anywhere makes me break out in a sweat.

But other than that, I'm still a young buck.

What changes have you noticed as the years have slipped behind?

Miracle Sunday

My church had "Miracle Sunday" today. It was the hope that our congregants would kick in extra money, sell off unneeded possessions, and even will property and other possessions to the church ... all in one massive attempt to buy down every last dollar of debt, freeing up our financial resources to pursue new ministries, make some long overdue building repairs, and unflinchingly follow where we hear God calling us to go. The church elders wanted to raise some $300,000.

The service was packed with specials ... the choir sang a benediction, the handbell choir played the offertory, our worship band played while the "Miracle Offering" was taken up. Letters from former pastors were read, we showed a 15-minute slideshow on the 85 year history of Calvary Church, one of our beloved former pastors spoke for 20 minutes, *AND* we also had Communion, this being the first Sunday of the month. And did I mention we still did all the other regular elements of our service (praise and worship songs, announcements, hymns)? The Pastor even preached his sermon, albeit he did skip great chunks of it.

By all accounts, it was a marvelous service, but it's sticking in my craw a little bit that SO MUCH was planned to fill our 90 minute service. I'm no stickler for walking out of church at exactly twelve noon and certainly believe in allowing the Spirit to move in the midst of our weekly time together ... but stubbornly insisting on stuffing in every little bit of planned item when it's clearly overkill - if I can use that word when referring to a service of Christian faith - seems to me to be poor stewardship of God's time and more than a little bit selfish.

There, I've said it and it's off my chest and I thank you for letting me do that.

By the way, more than $130,000 was brought in and many old members visited us, resulting in some very fine conversations.

Then and Now

In a post I titled "Has It Really Been 11 Days..." (see link at left), I published a photo of my daughter's bedroom.

Well, in the interest of fairness, here is her room once we cleaned it up and installed the new/used furniture we purchased from an estate sale.

Quite the difference, eh?

Remarkably, more than a month later, it still pretty much looks like that.

TV Turn Off Week

I am at the bitter end of Saturday, Day Six of TV Turn Off Week, and the family has successfully not clicked on either one of our sets since we went to bed last Sunday.

It helps that I hid all the remote controls.

But still, I think even if I hadn't, we would have had the strength of character to keep the screens dark. Though we have been tempted, and have kind of "cheated" just a little tiny bit. Amanda goes to a latchkey program here in our neighborhood after school three days a week, and we allow her to watch what little bit of television is on there. If there was a set turned on at the mall, or coffee shop, we peeked. We definitely peeked. Once we sat at our kitchen table and noticed we could see through our neighbor's window and view their set ... but the distance was too great and the picture was too small to be meaningful. I confess it here only in the interest of full disclosure.

My wife did ask her boss to TiVo one of our six "must watch" shows. The other five we gave up this week ... but even that was not such a sacrifice since two of them weren't on and two others were reruns (I think; I gave up reading the TV listings this week). Finally, we agreed that playing a video game using the TV screen wouldn't be considered watching television ... but no one even did that.

We've spent more time playing games on the computer, we've read a whole lot more, and my daughter has spent some time this week composing her first musical piece on the piano. And oh, we napped a little bit more. That's always good.

Did anybody else out there take part in this social experiment? What was it like for you?

How to Fight the Culture War

I read this today in a piece entitled "Furrowed Brows" on the Christianity Today site (I've abridged it just a little bit).

"Not long ago I attended a strategy session on the culture war. Participants examined the decline of marriage, the cheapening and flattening of human sexuality into contextless pleasure, the exploitation and destruction of unborn human beings. Speeches were given. Brows were furrowed. Resolutions were made. All were earnestly committed to the cause, and most, to be blunt, were not having a very good time ... it is hard to believe someone who speaks of love through clenched teeth.

"Jesus was hardly shy about confronting the patterns of sin in his culture - though he was consistently harder on the pious than he was on the pagans."

Now this is the part that leapt off the page and grabbed me by the heart:

"But everywhere Jesus went, life blossomed. The sick were healed, lepers were touched, daughters and sons were plucked from the mouth of the grave. Jesus left behind him a trail of tears and laughter, reunited families, and terrific wine, as well as dumbfounded synagogue leaders, uneasy monarchs, and sleepless procurators. His witness against violence, amidst a culture in rebellion against the good, was neither withdrawal nor war. It was simply life: abundant, just, generous life. And, ultimately, a willingness to let the enemies of life do their worst, confident that even death could not extinguish the abundant life of God."

Make it your mission to plant goodness, and watch life blossom. 'Nuff said.

What's diversity mean to you?

So I interviewed for a new job within the Postal Service yesterday afternoon. Got my hair cut and everything, trying to make the best impression possible. It's for the position of "Lead Computer Lab Instructor," which is basically right up my alley. Time will tell if I'm the one the board recommends to the selecting official.

I only drew a blank on one question: "How would you accommodate diversity in your classroom?"

Now we come to the title of today's post. What's diversity mean to you? When you hear the word, what do you think?

Maybe it's my age, but when that word was first put into use it was as a politically correct way of saying "affirmative action." It meant women and minorities. So my brain is thinking, "how would I accommodate women and minorities in my classroom? The same as anyone else. Duh!"

What came out of my mouth was some mumbled jumbo about making sure my instructing staff was diverse and all postal employees of diverse backgrounds would see themselves represented in the leadership of the lab...blahblahblah, woofwoofwoof, etc.

But then I confessed to the board, "I really have no idea how to answer this question. It doesn't seem to be an issue for me. People are people."

It was then that I learned that in our Postal Service World, diversity means "anyone who is different than you are" and the question was really about people with hearing impairments, the physically impaired, or people with medical conditions that require them to leave the room frequently ... which is very nearly a totally different question than the one I thought I had been asked.

A friend later that night clarified things for me. She said, "What they should have asked you is how would you accommodate special needs in your classroom?"

Now THAT question I could have answered.