Love

fresh from the oven

This is how Suzi showed her love amongst our family: She baked and baked and baked. And there appeared out of our oven not one, not two, but lo three apple pies. And they became a temptation to all who were near. As the fragrance of cinnamon and apples filled the house, we all partook and were satisfied. And she has been called blessed. And for all of us who shared in the same pie (with ice cream, of course), we shall all anticipate the same sound rest as we approach our beds with stomachs filled and faces grinning.

taylor made quote

"So they like Jerry Lewis in France. Does that make him funny?" -- Steve Taylor

ipod

Make it Idiot Proof,
And someone will made a better Idiot.
(Idiot Proof Operating Devise?)

"there's so much beauty around us for just two eyes to see"

And come darkness, the sounds and feel of fallen leaves rustling under foot make it easy to embrace fall.

Tree Fire

Still Yellow 

Fallen Reds 

The Content of the Retreat

The actual retreat: of course we spent time playing paintball, and Frisbee golf, and skeet shooting, and board games, and eating, and snacking, and football, and ping pong, and basketball, but the content of the retreat is probably of most interest. I don’t know to whom, but at least there’s more to say about the topics of the weekend’s discussions than a recounting of my strategy in the numerous board games. (My gaming strategy by the way is “play offense, be aggressive.”)

The weekend’s topic: in a word—love. Of course promoting the weekend as a love-fest or love-in or love-study would probably not sell as well as the official title for the weekend, which was “Born to Be Wild: Unleashing the Warrior Within.” How’s that for something that guys can get excited about?

Friday night’s session started with a look at God, explaining how the “wildness” within us is a reflection of the wildness of a creator who made billions upon billions of stars, and countless species of animals and plants and mineral formations. His creativity is boundless, but so is His love in that we’re showered with it daily. The evening’s call was to live passionately (with wildness) because of how we were created and who created us. Don’t allow the prevailing culture to lull us into a boring mediocrity. As a benediction for the evening, the speaker Greg Boyd walked up to the drum set and closed the evening with a five minute drum solo. There’s nothing like pounding on a set of drums to rile up a bunch of guys.

Saturday morning Boyd woke us up to fact that there’s a war going on. Thus the need for warriors. But he spent most of his time developing a proper picture of what a Christian warrior should look like and what should be the proper role or plan of attack. He blasted at the common notion of the Christian warrior as seen in, say the Crusades or other manifestations of a civil religion. And he countered a mentality which puts Christians on the defensive. In his look at Matthew 16 where the apostle Peter makes his confession of faith, he asked us how we viewed Christ’s charge to Peter. So often we picture this text (I know I’ve viewed it this way) as one where we are challenged to stand firm in our faith and as a result the church will not be overtaken by the all the evils of hell in this world. His question: are gates offensive or defensive weapons? Of course gates are meant to protect from others, not to go on the offensive. The conclusion he drew: as a result of the cross, Satan has been defeated; and we are to be on the attack against evil wherever we find it. It is "hell" that should be on the defensive.

The one and only weapon we should use or need use is the same one that Jesus used on the cross: love. Self-sacrificing love is the most effective weapon against the evil one. That was Boyd’s challenge as we gathered up for the afternoon activity of shooting each other.

Saturday evening we were challenged to look at our identity. We read from Genesis 3 and discussed the Fall (not the autumn kind.) We are complete in God and need not chase after idols, temptations in this world. They only serve to tame us. Drawing from Dietrich Bonhoeffer he presented the case that the tree of the knowledge of good and evil is the temptation to put ourselves in the seat of judgment, deciding what is right and wrong, good and bad. Acting in judgmentalism needs to be replaced by acting in love. Instead of trying to determine another person’s degree of goodness or rightness (badness or wrongness), we need to approach them with love. In the same way that we have received love from above, we need to respond to others in like manner. Love those who love us, but also love those who are enemies.

Boyd’s actual words are better than my attempt to summarize: “We [in the church] have failed to understand and internalize the biblical teaching that our fundamental sin is not our evil—as though the solution for sin was to become good—but our getting life from what we believe is our knowledge of good and evil. Our fundamental sin is that we place ourselves in the position of God and divide the world between what we judge to be good and what we judge to be evil. And this judgment is the primary thing that keeps us from doing the central thing God created and saved us to do, namely, love like he loves.”

The final session Sunday morning asked the practical questions of how this gets implemented. What is real and true and honest and how do we achieve them? The answer is not in a trying harder solution. Our minds needs to be transformed to seeing things the way God does, rather than trying to “will things” with our own might.

He gave the example of how he had easy access to pornography as a kid and never questioned its evil until he came to Christ. Then through a relationship with Jesus he was confronted by its harmful effects on him. He tried for years to resist through sheer will power, but continued to fail. It was only through seeing porn as Christ sees it that the desire began to fade. He had a dream in which one of the glossy pictures was covered from head to toe in vomit and feces and phlegm and insects and rodents. That new picture in his mind made it so repulsive that resisting became easier. As we abide or walk with Christ he will change how we see evil.

I hope that’s a fair assessment of what Boyd taught. If and when time allows, I’ll try to provide some commentary and reflection. But for now my fingers have gotten enough exercise. It’s time for my legs to get their share. Hey Raven, want to go for a walk?

Another Fun-lovin’ Dale

The story of the men’s retreat that my boys and I attended last weekend needs to start prior to the time that we arrived at Covenant Pines Bible Camp. I received a call about noon last Friday from a friend (the original F’in’ Dale) telling me how communication broke down and they were already on the road to camp without this guy who was supposed to ride with them. Could I help?


Well I explained how busy I was at work, running late as always. I told him to have this other Dale give me a call. Nobody could find a way to reach him, and I sure didn’t have time to search for him. Long story short, only dead-ends for most of the afternoon. I awaited a call from Dale T., but none came. As I worked on the last job of the day I began to think: this Dale guy is rooming with a 70-something gentleman from church named Carl. Carl and I like to talk after church and almost a month ago we exchanged phone numbers in hopes that we would be able to have lunch together some time. I wonder if I have that phone number in my wallet and I wonder if I could reach Dale there. Sure enough, I found the number, made the call and Dale answered.

“Need a ride,” I asked. “Boy do I ever. I was just beginning to think that maybe God did not want me to go on the retreat this weekend.”

We made quick arrangements. I was working only a mile from their apartment. I swung by in my work van, he was waiting in the front yard--sleeping bag, leather jacket, and guitar in hand. Then it was off to my house where the Warden had a freshly baked apple pie in the oven. Was I at the right house? Apparently I was, for Mark was packed and ready to go. The pie was delicious by the way.

In due course the four of us headed north in my Tundra: Dale riding shotgun, the boys in the back seat and myself navigating. We didn’t need the radio on the way up. Dale could give Christina a run for her money. He’s quite the talker and very interesting. His life story is quite opposite of mine, yet as he spoke we realized that our paths have crossed numerous times throughout the years even though we didn’t recognize each other.

Dale’s highs and lows have been much more extreme than mine and I tend to be skeptical of those with stories such as his, but as he spoke I was able to verify so much of what he had to say because I knew the characters and the places. He appears to be a truthful straight-shooter. We graduated the same year from high school and even attended the same schools, although he jumped back and forth between many schools whereas I stayed put in each school for the allotted number of years. And we had friends in common during those school years.

But then more amazing, even as he graduated and moved to the opposite end of the Metro, we found out that we spent the next decade or so working on the same building projects, he as a carpenter, me slinging mud. But then a back injury forced him out of that line of work into driving truck and managing delivery services. Things went well for many years until his son ended up in the hospital, which started a snowball effect of tragedy upon tragedy, leaving him divorced, addicted to crack and living on the streets for most of 2004. A couple from church found him about seven weeks ago at a shelter and arranged for Carl to give him shelter until he could get back on his feet.

I could go into much greater detail, but I better let this summary suffice lest I never get to writing about the actual retreat. And even that will have to wait for another day. But let it be known that our ride to camp was accomplished with no radio and no Christina, and the boys did not even wear headphones hooked into their MP3 or CD players. God had brought Dale out of a dizzying experience and it was good for us to hear about it.

Avoiding Hijacking

L-e-t-’-s- -s-e-e. H-o-w- -d-o- -I- -d-o- -t-h-i-s- -a-g-a-i-n?

I am too tired to write anything, but the Warden has threatened to hijack my blog again, so I must at least enter something.

I have not the energy to summarize the past weekend, although yesterday’s comment “Wow” is a good synopsis. All I can do now is affirm the rumor that the guys get steak and shrimp. (Sorry gals, but chicken is better for you!!!!!) It is true, although they do not serve cocktail sauce with the jumbo shrimp. This is but one of the hardships we endured this weekend.

I hope to say more soon.

The Land of Carcasonne 

"I have been staring at these little cardboard pieces for way too long." 

Too much fun 

facing the fact that Tim beat him at a board game 

This is what happens when you try to survive on 3 hours of sleep 

Wow

Hijacking this post

This is the Timman's wife. Otherwise known as the Warden, or Swansmith or Suzi. I am hijacking Tim's post while he is out of town. That's right. He's 120 miles away, whooping it up at a men's retreat. Playing paintball and board games up north while I'm trying to hold thigns together down here.

I am hoping he will post soon, but I had to do something before he loses his readership entirely. So, here's a few words to tie you over until he returns. Between organizing his new office and his new truck, he claims he has no time to blog. Now, when he gets back from this retreat, he will claim he has even less time because he has to catch up from all the stuff he could have been doing at home while he was, in fact, gone.

Don't worry. I think he'll be back. Maybe he'll even post pictures of crazy men running through the northwoods. Or perhaps a picture of Christina on horseback last weekend.

Thanks for your patience. Please stay tuned.

Till next time,

(oh.......that's how I sign my blogs)

I guess I 'll just say, for Tim, signed, his favorite wife