Thoughts on Father's Day...

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The words I wish to hear... I'll never get to hear.

Father's day comes stealthily each year.  I forget about it and suddenly the day arrives with little to no fanfare; and exits in the same understated manner.

This year I came to a strange realization: I've now lived more of my life without my father than I had lived with him.  He passed away many years ago.  He never knew me as a man.

I would love for nothing more than to hear him tell me that he's proud of me, of the man that I've become.  I know that he would be proud of me.

There are words that I'll never get to say to him.  I'll never get to tell him that I love him.

I trust that the time will come, after I pass through that great mortal curtain, when we will meet again with joy and tears and great unspoken words of love.

Still, I would love to have him here to meet as men.

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Thoughts on Environmental Stewardship...

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I was looking at some National Geographic Photos of the Canadian Oil Sands...

... I can't even begin to fathom the extent of the destruction.

... Is this what sin looks like?

[Photograph by Peter Essick]




... If so, then what does salvation look like?

Perhaps Christians need to rethink what bringing the Good News into the world looks like...






"...creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God.  For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now."

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Learning to Jump off the High Diving Board...

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I've discovered that I have a bit of a perfectionist streak.  Well, maybe half perfectionism, half fear of failure.  Whatever the correct label might be, the result tends to be the same: it is damn hard for me to begin and finish things.  When I was on my own I could just avoid or dismiss things.  But when you are beholden to another and called to the new-found responsibilities demanded by love... there is only one option: do what is required of you... get it done.  The nagging questions and doubts become an ill-afforded luxury.  This realization seems to change very little except the end result.  I still have these worries, these doubts, the handicap is still very real.  The difference is only that I can no longer lean on it as an excuse.  The responsibilities demanded by love - i.e. love as a verb - override the fears. 

It recently occurred to me that fulfilling these responsibilities is often like jumping off the high diving board.  When I'm up there it is terrifying and potentially able to make me freeze up and be trapped in inaction.  I can do it though - don't look down; don't think about the landing; remind myself that I'm capable and it will indeed be okay.  Some days it seems like every action, every moment is like this.  I'm not sure that jumping gets any easier; but I do know that I am learning to jump off with increasing frequency.  That, at least, is reassuring.

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