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Showing posts from March, 2020

Sheltered

It was nice to have a “normal” thunderstorm last night.  It wasn’t the kind where it seemed like lightning was crashing upon the roof and the trees were bent over in half.  We have severe storms way too often over here on the western side of Missouri.  Apparently, there’s nothing in Kansas to stop the wind from running us over like a freight train.  It has taken some getting used to.  I grew up in a suburb of the so-called “Windy City.”  But I really don’t remember the Chicago area being so windy all the time.  Not like it is here. But last night was a normal (non-severe) thunderstorm, and I enjoyed its sound as I lay peacefully in my bed, drifting off to sleep to the sound of the rushing water and rolling kettle drums. Throughout the night my roof kept me dry, my walls kept me warm, and the sump pump ensured a waterless basement.  I was sheltered well. Sheltered.  It’s a good word, except for when it’s a criticism.  “Oh, that boy… he was  sheltered .”  Look that boy up

No Chance of Death

This blog is not supposed to be about the current pandemic.  I promise it won’t be.  When we’re past this, and even while we’re in the midst of it, I’ll be sure to write about a great many things. But today I want to talk about death.  I thought long and hard about how to put the pain of it into words, how to describe its cruel breaking of hearts, how to depict the dark dread that looms ahead of its terrifying approach, and I think I came up with an eloquent way of painting the picture for you: it sucks. The county where I live is about to go on “lockdown,” so to speak.  The stay-at-home order will close many, many businesses.  We bunker down and sit for 30 days, or (let’s be honest) probably more.  This is awful.  But I take comfort in knowing it is a preventative measure to mitigate the spread and to limit the enemy Death.  We will get through this. I am sad that the church building will be empty for a while, but the church has never been a building.  A building is a g

Lucy

"Sometimes I wish I could be a dog," my 8-year-old son Bennett said as he laid down next to our lazy puppy.  She was curled up on her bed in the living room, and in her typical fashion she twisted around so she'd be belly up for the snuggles.  She loves the tummy rubs! "Me too," was my heartfelt reply.  I've often felt that.  Usually it is because of all the busyness of life. Go, go go.  Do, do, do.  Lists, and tasks, and I'm behind at home, and I'm behind at church, and there's always more, more, more that could and should be happening. But this time I said "me too" for a different reason—not because she gets to be relaxed and lazy and I am usually stressed out, but because she does not have a worry in the world, and this whole "thing" has been weighing on my heavily. Has anyone else been losing sleep over this? I have encouraged others to limit their intake of bad news and social media and constant reminde

One day...

I put green socks on.  Nicole got them for me last year right before St. Patrick’s Day.  The day has always meant just about nothing to me.  I always get pinched.  I have to ask people if the “holiday” is in March.  But last year I put green socks on, probably for the first time ever, as I was getting dressed and ready for church. The phone rang.  A member in hospice care was failing fast.  Death was imminent.  “Pastor, can you come?” Thankfully, we had two pastors, and the other pastor was scheduled to preach. “Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can.  I’ll leave in less than 10, and it’s a 30-minute drive.  Be there soon.  God’s peace to you.” He died shortly after I got there, right after we commended him into the Lord’s hands and the family kissed him and told him he could go to heaven.  He was Irish.  He loved St. Patrick’s Day. I put on green socks again this year.  And the kids had a special treat: Lucky Charms.  We never, never, never eat sugary cereal in our h

Missing Piece

Yesterday was a tough day. It started out fine enough.  I had planned to work a little from home but also spend time with my family. It is Spring Break after all! The boys were completing a puzzle we had started the night before.  It was a picture of Mickey Mouse with a sorcerer’s hat.  My middle son, Aidan, ran downstairs to get his favorite puzzle, one with fish and a shark and some colorful coral.  He’s always been obsessed with sea life, ever since we took him to Sea World when he was 3. Then the dog puked.  First outside, which was considerate of her.  Then later, she puked in the house.  The smelly bile was outside thankfully; she vomited food inside.  Food is harder to clean than the bile, but it doesn’t smell as bad.  She's not sick.  It’s just a Shih Tzu thing.  And a puppy thing. Aidan’s favorite puzzle was missing a piece.  He took it well.  We decided it was possible it was in another puzzle box.  We’re determined to keep our eyes open for it.  The

Unplanned Family Time

I've thought about starting a blog for a while.  It's hard to find the time.  We've been shorthanded at work for a while, so I can't find time when I'm in the office.  I get to work at a church, which I love, and serve as a pastor, which I love.  And I get to write all the time, sermons--lots of sermons, and I love that too.  But musing about life, faith, music, sports, or family doesn't happen much.  Not in print anyway. I've thought about spending some time writing at home.  The problem is that my youngest son gets up super early when I do, and he's full of questions and conversations.  And my oldest son is sometimes still awake when I fall asleep on the couch in the evening.  I don't want to ignore them while they're here.  They're growing up too fast.  The words "learner's permit" have been uttered quite a bit lately.  It's time to start studying for the driving test.  And I can't believe it. From the time when t