The World for God

Just dug this up. I wrote it last year at about this time. Amazing sometimes when we fast forward a year in our lives.

The World for God

I met them as I was walking back from late night coffee with an old college friend I hadn’t seen in years. Going over in my mind the conversation we had just shared while shutting down a Starbucks in Grand Central Station, I was concerned that I had pushed my faith too hard on him. I had no intention of doing so. I really wasn’t looking upon this as some sort of evangelistic conquest waiting to happen.

Most of it was innocuous enough—simply two old friends who had been accustomed to seeing each other daily, catching up on 10 years of mostly lost time. It was our last exchange that had me most concerned. He spoke of all the good-looking women rushing past him as we exited the terminal and mourned the fact that there was no good way for a single guy to flag them down and begin some meaningful conversation or at least get an email address from them. That’s when I plunged overboard accidentally. I told him that the good-looking women hang out at church and don’t rush off. Before I knew it I was inviting him and working out the logistics of him staying at our place on a Saturday night so he wouldn’t have to get up early and commute to our worship service. He stopped me in my tracks, reminding me that he was still holding out for a nice Jewish girl with whom he could settle down.

An abrupt goodbye and a wave of self-doubt.

And so it was that I got off at my subway stop, wandered north a couple blocks in the opposite direction of home to look for some members of our congregation who told me they were sleeping opposite the nearest Catholic Church to our corps. I didn’t find them, but did meet three new faces – C, a tall gaunt man with a black head wrap, Rock, the suspicious one of the bunch who did not offer his hand to shake mine back and Matt, the social butterfly of the crowd, barrel chest and bald head to look the part. Antonio, a regular, was sleeping on some cardboard behind them. We spoke for a moment, I told them about our services. They asked if the meal on Sundays was any good. Rock was specific about wanting my opinion, not Antonio’s and we parted ways.

Close to midnight, I was ready to call it a night when the Spirit spoke and told me to take yet another long way home. Staying two blocks north and not at all sure if this was just me, just my imagination or the leading of the Spirit, I walked on. I prayed that the Lord would reveal the specific people he was urging me on about. The first couple of fellow pedestrians might have made me out for half a crazy person as I stared at them in hopes that the Spirit would do his thing and let me know. Then I spotted them. Across the street, two Asian men, one well dressed in black, one with the ubiquitous urban black canvas cab with a short bill, a straggly goatee and some piercings. Both were smoking and leaning up against a closed Chinese food restaurant. I crossed the street close to where they loitered. I walked past them at first hoping the Spirit would give up on this urging. But he nagged at me and I’ve regretted being disobedient to the leading of the Spirit in the past, so I turned around. I slowly, cautiously approached them hoping the voice would call me off at the last second, offer up some other goat to sacrifice instead of me like he had done for Abraham and Isaac. No such luck.

It wasn’t until I got close that I noticed the telltale earpiece planted in the ear of the well-dressed one. It was very similar to the ones worn by the street scouts for the Japanese brothel on my block. I had no idea what to say, so I stumbled out with:

“You guys work around here?”

Nods of the head.

“I work near here too. Where do you guys work?”

Well-dressed pointed over his shoulder, up the steps of the brownstone next to the Chinese place. “Right up there.”

“Oh. I work at The Salvation Army over on 52nd.”

“The what? Say the name again”

“The Salvation Army at 52nd” (you know, right down from the other brothel?)

“52nd and …?”

“3rd, right next to 875, the big building.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know it.”

Long pause. What to say now?

Stumble on.

“I think we’re in very different lines of work.”

Well-dressed and smiling wryly, “Different cultures!”

“Yeah, different cultures. Well, my name’s Drew. What are yours?”

Well-dressed. “I’m Nao.”

Scraggly goat. “I’m Kaz.”

“Taz?”

“Kaz.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Enter friends of Nao and Kaz. “Well, I won’t keep you from your friends. Have a nice night.”

So, three groups: an old college friend; a trio of men who make up the hearty band of the hardcore homeless of New York City; two guys who work for a brothel in midtown.

Evangelism? I don’t think so. Obedience? Most of the way, I hope. Education? Always in this city. Kingdom business? God only knows.

Garden State

Ok, so I know that I'm coming late to the party, but I just watched Garden State last night for the first time. I know it's pathetic for a former self-proclaimed pop culture junkie, but give me a break, I have 2 kids under the age of 4. Anyway. If you're later to the party than I am and haven't yet seen Garden State, but want to preserve some suspense for yourself, you might want to get off the Parkway at the next toll. In other words, stop reading because I'm going to give away key portions of the movie.

Pretty good flick and I was particularly impressed when I got to the end and saw that it was written and directed by Zach Braff. He has more going on than I thought. Clearly this movie is to Zach Braff what Good Will Hunting was to Damon and Affleck and what Mr. Deeds was to Adam Sandler. For him, it's a movie about home and it has particular appeal to those of us who enjoyed the ignominious pleasure of growing up in the Armpit of America. (Incidently, do you know that the guy who named Jersey the Garden State was on a boat several hundred feet from shore when he did?)

As I watched and caught up with the particular angle on life Garden State takes, I had two thoughts--first, that it's a very postmodern film, allowing the viewer to fill in some blanks or be satisfied that not everything is going to be worked out cleanly and secondly, that it reminded me quite a bit of The Graduate. Similar aged guys who seem to be floating through life, influenced more by other people initially than any force of conviction that they possess. I actually think Braff acts quite a bit like Hoffman's character and wonder if he used it for inspiration at all.

Anyway, there's a disappointing difference on both of those counts when it comes to the ending of GS. One of the things I love best about The Graduate is that at the end, Hoffman drives his Alfa Romeo all night and runs out of gas and finally gets to the church, and gets the girl. They go running out of the church. Then they jump on a city bus and in one of the great movie scenes of all time, the camera zooms in on their faces, her sitting in her wedding dress, him in his dirty jacket looking quite unkempt and the look on their faces is completely unresolved. They look happy, they smile at each other and then they face forward and have this look that kind of says, "what did we just do?" and then there's a hard cut to black. That's how the movie ends and it is completely left up to the viewer to decide what happens with these two people. It's not a cheesy sequel setup or anything, but a strong statement about how life doesn't quite so easily resolve itself as is often portrayed in art. I get the feeling that Braff wanted to do the same thing in Garden State, but essentially he wussed out and gave it a very traditional happy ending where his and Natalie Portmann's character get together. His character even says something about "not putting a period on this thing, just an ellipsis" but then he goes ahead and cheeses out by getting off the plane.

My question is why can't anyone make a decent truly postmodern movie that doesn't resolve itself? Do we all need the comfortable G chord at the end instead of hanging on a nice A minor?

The Driving Range

We were out visiting Jen's mom in Athol (literally a one-stoplight town in central MA where my wife grew up) the other day. The cousins were along so we went to a place that has ice cream for the kids, a driving range, batting cages and go karts. Much fun was had by all. But this was the funniest part of the place. Right next to the window where you buy your token for the ball dispenser was this warning to would be Sandler imitators: "No Happy Gilmore's" Only in Athol, MA would you need such a warning. But also, only in Athol could you be ensured that those who really need this caution would understand exactly what is meant.

Duely warned we did not run up to the tee or smash our clubs on any of the driving range equipment. I am proud to say that I hit the Chrylser K Car placed in the target area on only one bounce. Sadly, better golfers have already taken out all the windows. Riley's first go kart ride completed a very fun summer day stolen out of the clutches of early fall.

People: Double Poor Taste Issue

I have a couple of close relatives who are big fans of People magazine, so I have to watch myself here, but I was put off yesterday in the grocery store when I saw their latest "Special Double Issue." I guess they do this from time to time when a new story trumps what their regular issue was meant to focus on or something, but this time around, it's really in poor taste.

The "lead" story, like everywhere else, is the devastation of Katrina and the aftermath. As is typical, People seeks out hopeful stories from the crisis and so the issue focuses on Courage in Chaos. I can accept that and I know it's going to sell magazines, but it seems like a worthy enough endeavor. What bothers me is the "double issue." You can see it in the upper right corner. The lead is "Best & Worst Dressed." I know this is an issue that readers of People look forward to, but couldn't they wait a week? Does it really deserve to share time with stories of courage in human tragedy. It seems like placing the utterly superficial next to the profound cheapens the depth of the real story here.

Is it just me?

Camp Meeting Reenactment, anyone?

I know it's kind of lame to just post other people's stuff, but I'm crazy busy right now. However, given the season, I just can't pass up the opportunity to direct you to Keith Drury's excellent piece in which he compares attending camp meetings to civil war reenactment. Thank you Joann for this.

Doonesbloggy

Just in case any of us might make the mistake of taking our blogs too seriously. And a little nod to my earlier blog about using someone else's ideas for fodder.

Gotta go. I'm on deadline for my real life.

Jack Worship

Check out Keith Drury's latest -- Jack Worship, the new worship trend sweeping the church. Look for it at a church near you.

Could it happen?
Should it happen?
Will it happen?

So you want that in blew? or why I hate buying cars

So, I spent two hours of my life last night becoming increasingly frustrated attempting to get a shady car dealer to tell me how much a car really costs. We're trying to buy a new car and I can't stand the process--too much listening to dealers talk, too much shading the truth on just how likely it is that I will drive this car off the lot tonight, too much "sign your name here, but it doesn't really mean anything." Then why am I signing my name?

Anyway, there was some (sad) comedy to the whole affair. This salesperson did several things that just blew my mind and make me wonder how long he'll hang around in the car-selling biz.

• He told me very early on that he used to work for a Toyota (although he pronounced it tie-yoda) dealer down the street and then proceeded to say "Toyota" or mention Toyota models twice as much as he said the word Honda (the new dealership he works at)
• He told me throughout the 2 hour ordeal that he used to be a middle school teacher, that he is a karate instructor, that he went to Bible college and claims he spelled my name in Hebrew and that he is an amateur magician.
• We were looking at a specific car and when he asked me what color the car was, I told him "steel blue" as that's what Honda calls light blue. He wrote on the sheet: blew.
• I didn't want the blue one. Our color preference is black. Our second choice is "fern." When I told him this, he said, "Fern, that's a color? How do you spell that?"
• At one point he made the statement: "I don't know that much about cars."
• When he described the Consumer Reports article in which the Honda Pilot beat all other SUVs, he said, "Yeah, when I looked at that, I was surprised at all the red marks it got. Red circles, red half-circles. I mean this is a really good car."

I think I told him more about the vehicle I wanted to buy than he told me and in the end, we all ended up frustrated. Heading to yet another Honda dealer (our 4th one) this weekend. Hopefully, they'll have a blew one at the right price.

Prayer for the Day

Saw this on a coworkers desk and thought it was a prayer I need to be praying.

Dear God, please keep your arm around my shoulder and your hand over my mouth. Amen.

and Amen

Here's something for your blog

Have you ever been with someone who reads your blog and something catches their attention and they say, "Here's something for your blog?" Well it happened the other day to me. And while the actual stimulus for the comment is very funny and probably something I would comment on in this space, I'm trying to figure out the dynamics of someone else choosing material for my blog. I mean, shouldn't it be my keen powers of observation that lead me to comment in a witty fashion on the fact that Dunkin Donuts advertises their new Turbo Ice as "delicious iced coffee with a KICK of real espresso," but then says in small print at the bottom, "also available in decaf?" How silly is that, an extra kick of decaf espresso? Doesn't that defeat the purpose (as my witty observant friend commented)?

I don't know if I'm a poseur for using material put forward by someone else as "a good one for my blog." By rights, this friend of mine should be posting his own witty aphorisms on the silliness of decaf turbo ice coffee. So what am I left to do? Not post about the topic and let him think his idea was in fact, NOT, "a good one for my blog?" Maybe I should encourage him to start his own blog and have his first post be the decaf espresso shtick.

Alright, enough already. I have to go get myself a turbo ice...
decaf of course.

Little Women

Maybe it's because we just had Sydney's first birthday party, maybe it's because we're still in the process of rearranging a lot in our lives toward a more healthy family life, maybe it's because it's our most important ministry, maybe it's because the thought wakes us up with loud cries or the pitter patter of little feet early every morning, but I've been thinking a lot lately about raising girls in this world. With all that's wrong in our fallen world, it can be a really scary thing to think about bringing up girls to be healthy, happy and whole. It seems like even great parents that I know have had horrible things happen to their daughters. I look at Riley and Sydney now and just wish sometimes that their lives could continue to carry on in the fashion described by this Non Sequitir comic strip. That a swingset could cure all.
I'd like to know that I can protect them from most and heal them from all of the hurts they might encounter in their lives. It can cause a dad to want to freeze time and keep them young, but I realize it's impossible to stop the march of life. I guess we have to settle for sufficiently shrewd, but innocent as doves. Fortunately, Riley and Sydney show strong leanings toward shrewdness. Jen and I just have to work to maintain their innocence.
Is it too early to start praying for Godly husbands? Ok, I'll stop.

Velcro Vanity

Was I driving behind the inventor of Velcro? Who knows? But it raises a couple of questions. Wouldn't the inventor of Velcro be driving something better than a Crown Vic?

If it's not the inventor of the fantastic sticky fabric, then who would bother to purchase a vanity plate with Velcro on it? The region's top velcro salesperson? A collector?

Then there's the other question, what's your favorite vanity plate you've ever seen on the road?

Yes, I did almost drive off the road trying to take this photo. Thank God for camera phones. What did we ever do before we had them?

My new friend part II

Stopped by Chuckie's spot again today. I saw his cart with his cans tied onto it. He was sitting half behind it. I'm not sure what he was doing when I walked up but I had to lean down kind of close to get his attention. I said, "Good morning, Chuckie." He looked up and realizing who I was, said, "Man, I told you, I'm getting out of here. I'm leaving." I said to him, "all I wanted to say was good morning." "Ok, fine, good morning." And I walked away.

It's hard sometimes to hold back and be satisfied that good morning is about all I can expect right now. I want to say more. I want to do more, but good morning is almost too much for Chuckie to take. I don't know why, but he makes it clear I'm not going to get any further right now. Patience and discernment--that's what I need right now.

Baby stumbles, Baby stumbles.

New blog

So at long last, my friend, Jocelyn, is now blogging. After holding an interesting theory that blogs would eventually lead to downfall of actual conversation (Friend of blogger: "Hey, how are you? I haven't seen you in a while" Blogger: " Well, if you'd read my blog you would already know. Just read it, then I'll tell you anything I haven't already posted"), she has given in and started her own blog. She's started very strong too with a great quote from Nelson Mandela. Her blog is appropriately named Indirect Communication. Check it out.

Chuckie

So I made a sincere blunder this morning. Across the street from our office, there's a homeless guy who has a nice little setup at the end of an alley. He's obviously been there for a while. Before I left the city, I prayed that the Lord would allow me to continue to have relationship and reach out to those on the street because it really was the best aspect of a sometimes difficult situation there. So I've been passing this guy almost every morning coming from the commuter rail and I've been feeling really convicted that God had answered my prayer (and not even made it difficult--this guy was literally on my way to the office) and I haven't done my part.

So I went over and introduced myself today before coming to work. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Good morning
Him: Good morning (not looking in my direction, then sort of looking out of the corner of his eye, wondering why I was awkwardly still standing in front of him)
Me: My name's Drew. I work across the street at The Salvation Army
Him: I'm all set. I'm just waiting on someone who owes me some money and then I'm going to be out of here.
Me: I'm not trying to bother you. I've just seen you here and wanted to say hello.
Long pause
Me: I'm Drew. What's your name?
Chuckie: I'm Chuckie.

Here's where it went south, with a question that had been perfectly routine and acceptable at Central Citadel:

Me: How long you been on the street?
Chuckie: (walking away) Now get out of here. I don't need no FBI, checking on me. Get out of here. How long you been on the street? mumble mumble mumble (into the corner of the building)
Me: (to myself) You moron, what are you thinking, walking up to a stranger in an alley and asking him how long he's been on the street? What right do you have? None anymore. You're no longer the pastor of a homeless congregation, therefore you have to build credibility, not think you're entitled to it.
Me: (to Chuckie) Listen, I'm going to go. I crossed a line there.
Chuckie: That's right you did and you didn't even notice.

I pray that this is installment one of a conversation that can continue. But if you're a person of faith, could you pray for Chuckie today?

The girls

These pictures were taken on Sunday. We got out on the lake with the girls and some other families from camp. It was nice to be out on the water, with the temps so high and the air so sticky lately.
Here's Riley with her friend Lily. I think Riley looks remarkably like her Auntie Heather in this shot.

For this one, we told Sydney to smile and it's a little hard to see, but she put on the most incredible sneer. It was really hilarious.

SYDNEY HAS TAKEN HER FIRST STEPS! It happened in the camp office. She has taken a few more since. It's just amazing to watch her progress. She also has 2 more teeth bringing the grand total to 4, so she should really start

Spam just keeps getting weirder

Ok, I know that companies just buy random email addresses and send out their spam, but I got an email today from Bowhunter Magazine. I mean these people know nothing about me, but what have I purchased, what sites have I been visiting, what surveys have I filled out that would lead anyone to believe I'm interested in anything being offered by Bowhunter Magazine? Surely if they lined up 100 guys and picked out 90 to whom they might send information regarding a magazine that covers the latest advances in bowhunting equipment and techniques, I would be left standing against the wall with the 2 blind guys, the 3 granola pacifists, the left-handed guy, the wicked fat kid, Jared from Subway and Napoleon Dynamite, just like when people were being picked for kickball at my elementary school's recess.

"You know, like numchuck skills, bowhunting skills, computer hacking skills... Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills."

Back in Boston

Ok, so I've now been here for a week--over a week in the area, a week at work. It's really a little strange to be here. At moments, it feels so normal to be here. At other times, it's surreal, almost like the last year never took place at all. It's very strange. Quite a bit has changed here and yet, obviously most things are very much the same.

My job is new, which is probably a good thing as far as the surreality goes. I'm working through the curriculum that I will be using in the fall. My job is lay leader & discipleship development. Sorry to the non-churchy folks who might be reading this, I'm sure that last sentence didn't make a lot of sense to you. Basically the goal is to increase non-ordained regular, working people who are volunteer leaders in various aspects in their Salvation Army churches in Massachusetts.
I have my own office, an experience I was only granted once before for 10 months as an assistant principal. This office is smaller than that one, but I have a great view. I mean, look, there's a castle. Who else can boast a castle view?

Jen is in her groove at camp, much more comfortable in that setting than in the big city and the girls are really enjoying themselves. Riley comes home with a new song every day and gets all the attention she can handle. Sydney is on the verge of walking and she's really coming out of herself seeing people other than her sister and her parents daily.

I'm reading a lot which I enjoy.

This is a terribly boring post, but I guess it's really more for me than for anyone else.

Happy 4th of July

For those of you who know Nakia, I just wanted to post this to let you know what she's up to this summer. This is her celebrating independence day. The picture does no justice to her fro. It's huge.

Goethe Quotation

"Treat a man as he appears to be and you make him worse. But treat a man as if he were what he potentially could be, and you make him what he should be." - Goethe