Nathan

I sketched this picture from the pew last Sunday, but the truth is, Nathan was already being drawn by something far greater.

When we found out that Nathan was being called to serve another congregation I had a visceral reaction. I was shocked and upset. I even felt betrayed. I took it personal.

I did not realize it at the time, but I needed to be convinced that Nathan was making the move reluctantly. Nathan said as much right away, but it took some time, and some frank discussion, for me to believe it. I needed to be convinced that he was heeding a call from God. I did not have any authority by which to demand it, nor do I think I could have articulated what it was that would give me peace, but Nathan, through God given intuition, came to our board meeting and did just that.

Months have gone by since that meeting. On a very important level I have made peace, with what has to be. I am willing to give the Esko congregation Nathan the teacher and pastor. (I know, so generous of me.) What I am still struggling with is the impending absence of a brother.

Both he and Laura will be sorely missed. My brother and sister in Christ. I love you.

Empathy

A friend of mine spent a stint washing dishes at the Country Cafe in Ridgefield, WA. We went to breakfast with him shortly after he had been promoted to line cook. I witnessed him carefully eat the whites around the edges of his over-medium eggs and them promptly fork the entire yolk into his mouth. I could not help but imagine the gush of lukewarm protein that must have filled his mouth. I likened it to a giant yolk flavored Fruit Gushers fruit snack. The funny part was that he didn't particularly care for eating his eggs in this manner, either. He had begun doing it after spending some time cleaning the dried up yolks that restaurant patrons had sullied their plates with. For this dish pit veteran it was a mercy killing. Unpleasant? Sure. But, after what he knew, he could do no less for his unspoken friends who walked the back of the house bedecked with vinyl aprons.

When we go through things in life they change us. Or at least I think they should change us. It colors (or is it that it clears off?) the lens that we all view our slice of the world through.

We have a tip jar at my work. It sits, unassuming, beside the register. Many similar establishments have similar jars. Through my experience, over the last two years, I have a deeper appreciation for the purpose of these little fixtures.

When someone puts their nickels, quarters, even dollars, in our jar we count them up and they are divided among the employees based on the hours spent toiling to make our kitchen run smoothly. Very few are overly generous with their tokens of gratitude, and honestly I don't look down on those who put nothing at all. There is a reason, though, that at the end of the day someone inevitably asks "Did we get a lot of love today?"

Those tips pay for the gas that transports a father of three to a job that is sorely needed. I have seen those tips carefully socked away by a single father to buy a bicycle for his four year old daughter. The anecdotes abound here, but you get the point. Or do you...

I have not been trying to make the case for tipping. Each of us tips based on a complicated set of rules and social mores. My rules have been altered by being on the receiving end of a tip jar, but what has struck me is how life can so strongly affect the way we behave in many areas(see my extreme example in the first paragraph).

It is my, not so educated, opinion that this is good. There are many possible negatives, but on the balance, I think this hints toward what people refer to as the "wisdom of the aged". We are works in process. Never stop learning, and keep your heart open to empathy. Empathy can be an excellent instructor.

- Posted from my iPhone

Open Letter to my Brothers (and Sisters) in Christ

And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love

They will know we are Christians by our love

                                                                          -Peter R. Scholtes

The following is an open letter to my brothers and sisters in faith:

I intend to express here my thoughts on love.  I am not talking about the sentimental and absurdly commercialized Valentine’s Day version of secular love. This is by no means an official Church argument.  Like everything on this blog, the thoughts expressed here are my opinions.  More to the point, this is me humbly entreating my brothers and sisters toward a realization of the way the scriptures describe the body of Christ. In Romans 12 we read “10. Love one another with brotherly affection.  Outdo one another in showing honor.  16. Live in harmony with one another.  Never be conceited.  18. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” And again, in Colossians 3:12-17  “Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience… And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.  And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body.  And be thankful.  Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom.”

After all of my histrionics condemning doctrinal arguments in this piece, you may get the impression that I am not interested in theology and that it is my contempt for intellectuals that has led me to these conclusions.  This is not true.  I am a very passionate debater. If we know each other outside of this blog it is likely that we have had, or you have seen me engaged in spirited discussions.  Right now, I have a copy of Soren Kierkegaard’s “Fear and Trembling” on deck, and I have been known to recreationally read Bonhoeffer and Lewis.  There are those of us who delve in philosophical and esoteric arguments as a form of exercise or entertainment.   I think that this is fascinating and helpful at times.   In a controlled private environment where everyone knows the rules, we can help each other to grow in the truth and knowledge of God.  My only rare desires to attend seminary have stemmed from a romantic notion of regularly attending classes for this very purpose.

Dry philosophical statements expressed in open conversation are often misheard and misinterpreted.  Not only that, but sometimes the right answer is still wrong.  Delivery matters.  Context and tone matter.   Words have meaning.  Maybe you think that I am a killjoy or that I am quenching the spirit (it would not be the first time that I bore that charge).   I watched my church be rent in two by arguments between brothers and sisters.  Our church split was complicated and I am only highlighting one aspect here, but ask me if I think it is worth causing a rift in the body of Christ over the details of doctrine?  I will tell you no.  I still have not healed from the wounds of that fight. When referencing disagreements among believers in the fourteenth chapter of Romans Paul says the following: “…decide never to put a stumbling block or hindrance in the way of a brother.  16. So do not let what you regard as good be spoken of as evil.  18. Whoever thus serves Christ is acceptable to God and approved by men.  19. So then let us pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding.”  Make no mistake, telling someone that is struggling with their faith that has also lost a child that your reading of the scriptures gives no assurance for the salvation of that soul can and probably will be a stumbling block for that person.   

It was brought to my attention that Luther was accused of not being loving.  The suggestion was that we make these arguments for the good of the church.   (Remember Colossians 3:17b from the opening argument? “teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom.”?) I did not write this to say that there are no bad teachings in the church or that battling false teaching is an unworthy endeavor.  I am talking about the process. In that great chapter describing love in Corinthians, it is said: if I “understand all mysteries and all knowledge… but have not love, I gain nothing. “-Cor. 13 I am not a scholar and I will defer to those who have made a life of studying Luther’s life and works here.  I did, however, study Dr. Martin Luther’s Catechism as a child in Sunday school, same as many of you.  I was instantly reminded of the next bit of teaching from that little red book, concerning our neighbor. “But excuse him, speak well of him, and put the best construction on all he does.”  -Excerpt from: What is meant by this? The Eighth Commandment. 

I think that some of the more recent statements that I have heard and read have been reactionary.  Cold and calculating shots designed to inflict damage.  As a Lutheran it can be frustrating being bullied by Evangelicals.  I have felt the sting of being told that I am in dead faith.  I have read the arguments detailing how my baptism as a babe was illegitimate.  My first reaction to these charges, either because of testosterone or watching too many John Wayne movies, has been one of anger.  I am quick to cloak my anger with the title righteous indignation.  I seek to raze the villages of the offenders.  I burn with the desire to excoriate them with my tongue.  I have days where if asked “What is the best in life?” I might answer, like Conan the Barbarian, “To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the lamentation of their women.”  Then I wake up.  My wife correctly assessed the other night that I am not very good at softening the things I say.  I have a horrible tendency to condescend to those I disagree with.  The object of my scorn instantly hears my arrogance through my fatherly tone.   I am working on keeping my pride in check.  It becomes hard to justify condescension when you read scriptures such as this: “In humility count others more significant than yourselves.” -Philippians 2:3b

The others in the church, the ones you do not agree with, they serve God.  They are not your servants.  You should not be trying to impose your will on them.  Romans chapter 14 clearly says this “1. As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions.  4. Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another?” 

Do you find yourself attempting to bend the living Word of God to your will and wield it as a weapon against your brother?   We beat our brother over the head with the Bible.  Ephesians 6:17 refers to using the sword of the Spirit not “against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”  The Word of God is precious and alive.  Let us all read His Word with open hearts praying that we can be affected by its truth and that the Spirit will reveal itself through its pages.  Years ago I heard the point made that when we are reading the Word or listening to our pastor speak, we should be assessing how this applies to us and not thinking “I wish so and so were here to hear/read this.” Viewing the Bible as simple reference material is like viewing your friends and family as assets for your personal gain, or worse.  Do not buy into the catch phrase describing the Bible as the driver's manual in the cosmic car of life.  It really is so much more.

I hope that you have not read these words as judgmental and presumptuous.  I do hope that they have prompted you to a greater respect for your brother and that you will at least try to maintain a sense of decorum when dealing with matters of the Kingdom.  Not because I said so, but because we are all in this together. 

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.  And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.  If we live by the Spirit, let us also walk by the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking one another, envying one another.”- Galatians 5:22-26

Meatball Soup

I would like to start by apologizing those of you who are in Pinterest mode. If you followed this link hoping for a quaint recipe that you could make to bring to an upcoming soup supper at your place of worship, this blog amounts to nothing more than a classic bait and switch. The subtitle of this blog easily could have been "Where's the glory, Chef?"

There is a lot of misinformation out there right now concerning what it means to be a chef. Culinary schools, movies, and TV series are selling a rock star version of this fabled figure. We see chefs slinging expensive truffles and foie gras. Or some delicate blonde woman gently seasoning a butterflied breast of chicken. In reality my chosen field is not half that glamorous.

Chef Charles Claringbold II was fond of telling an anecdote about a young man who worked for him: The fresh-scrubbed recruit had bought the culinary school line that they would turn him into the next Emeril Lagasse. Charles had set him to the task of filling squeeze bottles with ketchup from the bladder bag that hung in a plastic frame on the wall. Charles walked past him and the greenhorn looked at him with doe eyes and asked "Where's the glory, Chef?".

I would be the first to admit that everyone's experience is a little different. Part of my perspective is due to my having spent years servicing corporate accounts. I have spent 12 years in this industry, however. I have been to culinary school, spent 6 weeks interning at the Waverley Country Club, worked the line in an upscale Portland establishment, slung food on several multimillion dollar campuses, owned a catering company, and worked to fill the needs of a demanding group of foodies at my current job downtown.

No matter where I have been, or who I have worked with/under, the story has always been the same. Being a chef is hard work. It is dirty work. I have watched every one of my chefs roll up their sleeves and scrub greasy pans. More than once I have seen them serve as exterminators, referees, secretaries, plumbers, and window washers in their own establishments.

Truth is, anyone can buy-in expensive ingredients, ferry them to the front of the house and resell them at 300% markup. The great chefs know how to impart value onto ordinary ingredients. As a chef I often find myself scrapping together leftovers to try and salvage my food cost percentage. The surprising part? Some of my most satisfying moments as a chef are born from this process.

That brings us to the meatball soup.

I really love making soups. There were a few misguided weeks in school where I fully intended to become a saucier (or sauce cook) and my love of sauces carries over into a passion for soup making. The Epicurean delight in question was the culmination of a series of deft cost cutting measures commonly used in my kitchen. The meatballs were made from excess meatloaf mixture from last Friday's special. The filler in this mixture was fresh bread crumbs. I never buy bread crumbs. We run bread scraps and loaf ends through the food processor and keep the resulting crumbs in a bucket in the freezer. The tomato base was a Fresh Tomato Basil soup that I had made last week from blanching, peeling, and deseeding overripe and moldy tomatoes that may have otherwise been thrown away. Combine these with a handful of rotini pasta and some stock. Voilà! It really was delicious.

I sold out both of my soups made from leftovers today. With an 8oz cup selling at $2.25, they sold at an effective rate of $36.00 a gallon, and my customers complimented me for a job well done.

I have seen this very poorly executed. There are some chefs who treat the soup station the way many would treat a garbage can. Attempting to peddle septic slop to unsuspecting customers. Shame on them. A pox be on their house. A chef should never take lightly the responsibility he has to the customer.

In the end I work in the service industry. It is not glorious. I am closer to being this guy-


Than I am to being this guy-



I do love it, though. Someday if I am referred to as a successful chef it will probably be due to the fact that I mastered the art of reworking leftovers, and my ability to unflinchingly wield a plunger in a public restroom.


"Where's the glory, Chef?".

- Posted from my iPhone

Call to Action

When I heard the garbage truck
go by this morning I leapt to my feet. Battling the panic born of knowing that our can was overfilled with holiday excess, I slipped into my work Crocs and dashed out of the door with two sacks of trash clutched in my hands. Lifting the lid, I flung the bags into the can and forcefully crammed it back closed. Tilting the large plastic container back to it's center of gravity I bumped it across our side lawn to the curb in front of our maple tree. Then a quick glance toward our neighbor Dan's curb for the reassuring sight of white kitchen bags poking out the top of his bin.

We are actually quite lucky. The truck goes by in a Westerly direction before it comes back East past our house to dispose of our refuse. If you are home sitting lazily on the couch, thumbing through Facebook on your iPhone, the familiar rumble is a clear call to action. Hesitate and you will pay for it for the next week.

The garbage incident reminded me of when I was a kid. We would wait in the warmth and security of our house and watch for the school bus to go past our driveway. This was our signal to make the trek down the long blackberry lined driveway and catch the bus on it's way back toward Lacamas Heights Elementary School. We lived very near the end of the bus route and the bus would turnaround and be back with haste. We dared not tarry. You need not run, but, with the short legs (and attention span) of a third grader, the journey required decisive action. We knew what was required of us. Hesitate and we would feel the scorn of our parents and receive a black mark on our attendance record.

I have long been capable of clear and definitive action when there is an immediate need for it. I jump in, get dirty, spurn brake periods, and cast aside thoughts of self preservation. I can think on my feet and adapt to adverse conditions. When it is over and the built up adrenalin seeps out of my endocrine system, I truly enjoy the satisfying crash that tells me I have poured myself out and given one hundred percent.

The thing that continues to be just beyond my grasp is the right-headedness that would make me a planner and a better leader. I react to the situations that I fall into, but I struggle to find the proactive vein that would help keep me from getting in those situations in the first place.

All those years ago in Camas why didn't I plan on being at the end of the driveway when that big yellow bus went by the first time? I would not have had to cross the road to get on and I would have been assured a ride as I would have had two chances to be on board. Why is it that I never put my trash cans out the night before? Why do I routinely go into work with a weak menu plan and find myself in a "black box challenge" to come up with my specials for the day?

I do not think that I am a bad leader. I would like to believe that if God had placed me on the beaches of Normandy I could have marched into the fray and led by example. (Although truly we can never know that much). I think that am capable of inspiring those around me to dig deep and find the potential inside themselves. It is those things that can not be won by the grit of your teeth and the sweat of your brow that I find so fleeting.

My prayer is that I could be granted those qualities that are truly important. Things like wisdom and foresight. I have the knowledge of the kind of planning and over-arching themes that might give me an advantage in life. I am profoundly foolish when it comes to implementing those strategies in my life.


Whoever trusts in his own mind is a fool, but he who walks in wisdom will be delivered. (Proverbs 28:26 ESV)


- Posted from my iPhone

Transparency and Fatherhood

Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. (Ephesians 6:1 ESV)


Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. (Ephesians 6:4 ESV)

One day in a small group of Christian men I listened to a friend describe a low point of his fathering experience. His son had transgressed some rule that seemed so important at the time. He snapped, and began yelling at, and berating his son. The way he tells the story, he was looking into his son's eyes and something happened. I picture it like a light going off deep inside his son's head. That day left a scar. It was the straw that broke the boy's back. His son put up walls and became distant and cold toward him. From the strain in his face and the tears welling in his eyes, as he told this short story, I could see that those scars of regret remained on my friend's heart as well.

I thank God for the courage that He gave to allow that story to be shared, and the trust inherent in our Christian brotherhood that allows one man to be open with another about shortcomings and failures. The truth is, we all fail. When we can be open about our faults they can be turned from black marks into valuable tools. Tools that can help those around us to be more honest and self aware. Tools that can create an ideal environment for God to effect real change in our hearts.

I think it was a mixture of things that made that story have such an impact on me. Perhaps, there is a psychoanalytical answer in which I was identifying with his son, and connecting it to the memory of my own dad raising his voice at me when I was young. I believe that it was more about identifying with the father in the scenario, and a rising fear that I might become that kind of dad. At the time I think we only had one little baby, but I knew that I didn't ever want to get to that point with my own children. Either way I was very affected by that tale of woe, and stored it up in my heart as a tool that I might need later.

I will confess that I have spent years in prayer trying to maintain control over anger. God has been gracious towards me, and much of my hotheadedness was burned out in my youth. There is something about an obstinate child, though... Kids, especially your own kids, always seem to know how to push your buttons. Because of my temper my struggle lately has been to keep from being the family bully. Most of it can probably be chalked up to my own pride. ("How dare they act that way towards me!") I have to make a conscious effort not to react to things based on my flimsy idea of what might bruise my pride. Indeed, I pray that God might rid me of my false sense of pride completely. "One's pride will bring him low, but he who is lowly in spirit will obtain honor." (Proverbs 29:23 ESV) There is something to the fact that kids are in tune with the nuances in your personality, though. They know when they are getting to you, and they like to push things as far as they think they can get away with.

When I was a kid I was the same way. I distinctly remember one evening, when I was about nine, and we had been pushing my dad. I know without asking that this would not be a "proud father moment", but my father gave me a profoundly important gift that day. My siblings and I were the recipients of a bit of my father's wrath. We had pushed too far and it had ended in expletives. I had heard him curse before, but never towards us. Although I can't be certain, I don't remember it ever happening again. The gift was not the angry outburst or the words used, but what followed.

Later that evening he called us into the living room and asked that we would forgive him for what had happened. At the time I felt awkward and even confused. My dad was the most powerful person in my life, and he could be very proud. It was shocking to see him exhibit that level of humility. I can not tell you how important it was for me to be a part of that moment. My father had shown a spirit of service towards us, and more importantly he had openly displayed that he was deferring all judgment to God. I knew in that moment that my dad loved us. I knew in that moment that my dad needed the grace of God.

Our children have intrinsic value in God's eyes. They are individuals with souls and hearts and minds. It is helpful to me when I remember that these little people are in a struggle with their sin nature. They are tempted and tried just as we are. And, in like kind, they are in need of grace. We are to be as Christ to our family. We must be generous with our grace towards them.

When I am struggling in my role as disciplinarian, I try to use the tools at my disposal. I look to God for direction. The spirit of love and service, displayed by a proud father brought low, shines as an example. And, the cautionary tale of a friend, sounds it's gentle warning.

I would never want my kids find this post some day and be riddled with guilt over the grief they put me through. It is my sincere hope that my children would read this post as the musings of a transparent father who is willing to be molded by God into the man he ought to be.

My son, do not despise the Lord's discipline or be weary of his reproof, for the Lord reproves him whom he loves, as a father the son in whom he delights. (Proverbs 3:11, 12 ESV)




- Posted from my iPhone

Sailing the Seas of Relativism

In the preface to Fear and Trembling Kierkegaard gives this quote as a warning: "Above all we should impress on our memory as an infallible rule that what God has revealed to us is incomparably more certain than everything else; and that we ought to submit to the Divine authority rather than to our own judgement even though the light of reason may seem to us to suggest, with the utmost clearness and evidence, something opposite." -Descartes

The truth is that it is very easy to be seduced by our own logic. The truth is that it is so tempting to fall victim to our own ego.



In modern American culture we live in a sea of relativism. This makes each of us god unto ourselves. We are continually exposed to different circumstances that require us to make moral decisions. Since we were small children we have been instructed to swim in the relative sea coached by lifeguards who have built up our egos to believe that we alone possess the ability to discern what is right for us. This is a falsehood of the worst kind.

Like a child on a step stool we have tried to reach for things that were at God's level all along. (See Adam and Eve). However, we are simply not equipped to wield the powers of God. We are the created, not the Creator. It requires a spectacular display of hubris to say that "I am the highest moral authority in my life."

So you see some "new" cultural phenomena that is embraced by the people around you? Someone has cast off the strictures of the generation before? These things are perpetuated by friends that you know and love? Perhaps you can see your way to a beautiful silver thread of logic leading to the justification of their actions? Good news: you do not have to do the backstroke through the sea of gray. We are not obliged to provide bandwagon support to the latest trends. Take a breath and remind yourself that "There is nothing new under the sun"- Eccl. 1:9b. The Bible is the living Word of God and much of what we wonder about is addressed directly. We also have 2000 years of Saints who have gone on before us wading through the difficult questions and finding inspired answers through God. Let us not be too quick to throw away the gift of the revelations of our Church Fathers.

The beauty of the faith of the Christian is that it is not dependent on us, and the strength of our moral convictions is that they are not born from our own flawed logic. Righteousness is revealed through the Word. Our lives are lived in faith. That faith informs every aspect of our lives. Think you have it figured out? Check your pride at the door. The Holy Spirit, through the Word, will instruct your path.

"For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith for faith, as it is written, "The righteous shall live by faith." Romans 1:16-17

- Posted from my iPhone

Can't You Take A Hint?

When we were kids I spent a lot of time with my younger brother Quentin. It is sad to think that I have not seen him in almost 3 years now. We talk occasionally, and I hope to see him this summer. I do not, by any stretch, spend the kind of time with him that is required to find him annoying. Things were different when we were kids. I have plenty of memories from my childhood that involve being annoyed by my little brother. One of those annoying memories has become a life lesson for me.

There was a time, when he was seven or eight years old, that my brother was Prince of the Strong Hint. If you had a treat of any sort he would sidle up alongside you and it would begin. (For our example we will say that I was partaking of a frosty beverage, probably Pepsi.)

"I sure am thirsty" he would start. "I really need a drink of something." Soon, he would get concerned that you were not receiving the message and the hints would get more specific. "I wish I had some Pepsi right now". "Pepsi is sooo good".

I am not now, nor was I when I was twelve, very receptive to manipulation. Most people probably agree that it is awful to feel as though someone is trying to bend you to their benefit. This passive manipulation is perhaps one of the worst types. The manipulator is either too cowardly or too proud to come right out and say/ask for what they want. Instead, they attempt to control your actions through an ugly combination of pity and guilt brought on by overtly heavy hints.

I forgive my eight year old brother for employing such a base and lowly tactic. What is your excuse full grown man/woman who continues to bully the people, in your life, with this same strategy?


- Posted from my iPhone

Taxes

There has been a lot of discussion this week concerning taxes, and government spending. I think for many of us this conversation can not hold our interest. This apathy is an unfortunate byproduct of a government that has lost the trust of it's people. We see a compromise on the scale that we saw last week and both sides assume that their representatives have sold them out. Sadly, for both sides it is largely true. The reality is that the government is not on our team. When I say "our" I truly mean every American citizen who does not work for the government itself.

The real truth is that the government has ceased to be the necessary support apparatus that it was designed to be. We are now dealing with an enormous entity that demands to be recognized as a power unto itself.

Dial down all of the political rhetoric and think about what is truly being said and what is accepted as "truth". A country as rich as America ought to be able to pay for ______(insert well-meaning program here). Take your pick. Health care. Higher education. World aid. Etc. Etc. This is where the water gets muddy for many Americans. We feel a moral obligation to say yes we ought to be able to extend these things, without asking what it all means.

Where does the American government get it's money? From it's citizens. What would happen if those citizens did not surrender the money asked of them? Imprisonment, garnishment, ceasing of property, or any number of other punishments. (see Wesley Snipes) This is key, in my opinion. Every dollar that the federal government spends, on anything, has been forcibly taken from it's citizenry.

As Americans we are all responsible for what our government does. The power that they possess is given them by the people they have sworn to represent, and whether passively, grudgingly, or enthusiastically we have given them the power to exact a toll on those who live within our borders. Whether that power is constitutional or not can be debated, but it may no longer matter. The precedent has been set and accepted that this is what we want our country to do. The majority of the people feel it necessary in order to maintain an orderly society.

The very fact that we are compelling people, by force, to pay federal taxes comes with it a burden to mete out those funds to only those tasks deemed absolutely fundamental to preserving the sovereignty of the U.S.A. and, the protection of it's people and their freedoms.

Herein lies the rub ladies and gentleman; we have a chosen few elected officials making the decisions over what those fundamentals are. They have the constitution, but still the job is not without gray areas.

When you consider some of the things that the government pays for it is not hard to find things that anyone can agree falls outside these guidelines. This is a simple argument. Do we feel that it is right to take money from our neighbors to pay for our own lives/social projects/charitable causes? Before you answer that, remember that we have laws in place that will strip those same neighbors of their right to personal property and possibly imprison them if they refuse to pay for your lives/social projects/charitable causes.

When we hear "A country as rich as America ought to be able to pay for ______(insert well-meaning program here)." The moral imperative that we ought to feel is "Who are we to force our neighbor to pay for ____(insert college, Union contracts, cowboy poetry, etc. here)."

We cannot afford to forget that power corrupts. If you are not a part of the government's team then you are on our team, and we must be diligent to keep the other in check.


- Posted from my iPhone

Rock and Roll (a list)

At the risk of making my blog into list central, I am going to give you yet another list: Top Ten Greatest Rock and Roll Songs of all Time. I have attempted to make lists of this nature before and was crushed by the stress of it all. If you do not know me very well, you should understand that I absolutely love music. My love for music makes me highly opinionated. My love also makes me a bit fickle (if that makes any sense). The idea of taking 60 some odd years of Rock and Roll and limiting my list to ten songs fills me with a fear and stress that is hard to explain. This list should be understood as a snapshot of how I feel right now and I reserve the right to change it at any time.

Before we start here are the ground rules that I gave myself for this list. The parameters designed to help me reign in my, already too long, list of songs. First, I stayed in the middle of the road. If I determined a song to be "too punk" or "too metal" etc. I put it in a different category and therefore you won't see it here. Second, I stuck to the hits. I am not, necessarily, making a list of my favorite songs.
I am attempting to make a list of historically Great songs.





10) Long Cool Woman in a Black Dress by The Hollies
I know this makes me sound older than my years (in a bad way), but I wish rock and roll still sounded this way. <----A sentiment that runs through this entire list. Listen to the build up and the, oh so cool, way he tells the story. The Hollies are very underrated and I bumped a lot of respectable bands to give this song a spot.

9) Jailhouse Rock by Elvis Presley
For years I had forgotten Elvis. He, and this song in particular, have been parodied and made fun of so many times that you forget how great he was. Try to clear your head and hear the energy and fun in this song for the first time. Infectious.

8) Born on the Bayou by Credence Clearwater Revival
CCR continues to remind me of my Dad. We had a couple cassettes kicking around the house when I was a kid, and I used to huddle close to the stereo speakers and listen in awe. John Fogerty's voice comes from an amazing place, not accessible to us mere mortals.

7) Come Together by The Beatles
If you are like me it is easy to get "Beatle Fatigue". No band gets rammed down our throats more often. This song really works for me, though. The nonsensical nature of it's lyrics actually makes it that much easier to have a good time singing along. "One and one and one makes three, got to be good lookin cause he's so hard to see".

6) Foxy Lady by Jimi Hendrix
When I hear this song I think of Dana Carvey as Garth in Wayne's World doing his little fox dance. Guitar heavy and saturated in cool, this song cannot be denied.

5) You Shook Me All Night Long by ACDC
Just in case you forgot this was a Rock and Roll list, I give you ACDC. I apologize if the lyrics make you blush, but this is a great song. The music and melody are very simple, as they should be. Remember, if it's too loud you're too old.

4) You Really Got Me by The Kinks
When I listen to this song I can't believe it was recorded in 1964. It feels so modern. That is because modern rock owes so much to The Kinks and other pioneers like them. Many are familiar with Van Halen's version, but this is where it all began people.

3) My Generation by The Who
Pete Townsend is such a bad-ass! His trademark wheel-wind guitar move is so great. This song has teenage angst in spades. I love the energy and sentiment in this song.

2) Just What I Needed by The Cars
If you get a chance in the near future, sit down and listen to the entire self-titled Cars album that Just What I Needed was released on in 1978. My vinyl copy (in the picture above) has spent a lot of time on my turntable. The entire thing is a work of art, and this song is near perfect.

1) Paint it Black by The Rolling Stones
There are a few early Rolling Stones songs that I absolutely love. There is so much fun and energy packed into them. This song is a little darker. I think it's the dark edge of the song that makes it so great. Mick and Keith and the guys may be burned out old rockers now, but the musicianship and style on exhibit for this track are what makes rock and roll so powerful.

One last note...
For the purposes of this list I linked to YouTube videos for the music. These videos in many cases don't have the best versions of these songs. If you want my advice, go out and buy the albums or at least download the tracks on iTunes. Take a couple minutes and really listen to them again (or for the first time).

- Posted from my iPhone

The Woman in Animal Print

I pushed my cart across the large marble floor in the cold, lofty entry of the Federal Courthouse. I held the cart out in front of me to accommodate the long strides I was making. On my cart were mini scones, coffee and water with all the trimmings, bound for the sixth floor. There was a meeting in the main conference room in the US Attorneys office, and I had to make delivery by 9:45.

As my cart rattled over the wide grout lines in the marble floor, I passed a bench awkwardly placed under a portrait of a dead man. The bench was populated by a couple of middle aged women. The first I forgot as soon as I saw her. The second addressed me and won herself a place in my memory.

She was an interesting looking woman. Her portly figure clothed in some sort of animal print blouse. I think it was leopard, but the skin of that graceful animal seemed ill-suited for the form it now covered. She had the face of someone who had been down a lot of roads and seen a lot of things. Now, those same eyes were seeing me.

Her query was a simple one.
"Can I have a cookie?" she asked.

I slowed my cart, and an easy smile crossed my lips. "Another joker looking for a cookie" was the mean thought that flashed through my brain.

Before I could respond, however, she spoke again. Cutting off whatever witty response my brain was about to spill out.

"Never mind" she said. "I know they are for someone special."

Her statement threw me off. I no longer had a witty response. Instead, I resumed my pace and continued on to the North Elevators.

As I spread my wares I continued thinking about what she had said, and how she had said it. There was something matter-of-fact about the way that she said it. It was truly heartbreaking. I believe she had opened a window into her wounded spirit for just a moment, and I had gotten a glimpse of damage wrought by many who had trodden her under foot in this life. When I finished my delivery I went downstairs and back past the lady. This time I gave her a warm smile.

I can't shake the vision of The Woman in Animal Print. My initial reaction to her was to look at her as another casualty of this world. I wrote her off. I gave up on her before I knew anything about her. What's even sadder, is she had given up on herself.

Everyone we meet, everyone that we have already met, has an intrinsic value in God's eyes. Christ died for them individually. Who are we to judge whether they are valuable?

Matthew 13:45,46

Woman in Animal Print you are God's pearl. He has given his only Son for you, and I am sorry that I didn't remember that the first time we met.


- Posted from my iPhone

App-tastic

I realize that the world doesn't have much need for another "best of" list, especially for iPhone apps, but I am writing this blog anyway. Let's not kid ourselves, you don't read this blog out of need.

I personally know a lot of people who have gotten iPhones in the last year or two, and I find the opinions of people that I know more interesting than random Internet reviewers. Think of this as the start of a conversation that I would like to have about which apps (free or paid for) are worth your time. Feel free to comment at the bottom of this blog, on my Facebook page, or on Twitter with your own additions to or subtractions from this list.

My Top Five iPhone Apps

1. BlogPress




I would be remiss not to include this brilliant blog authoring app. In case you haven't guessed I am writing this blog right now using this tool. In fact, I have never written my blog on a standard computer. Since it's inception, every post on itsacryingshane has been written on my phone using BlogPress. The people behind this app haven't forgotten about it either. It continues to improve. Recently even adding the ability to imbed links on the app removing any necessity for fine-tuning from a desktop. This app is $2.99 in the app store, and worth every penny.

2.Twitterrific




I don't know if you are using Twitter. If you have a smartphone or spend a lot of time in front of your computer you should be. Twitter is an instant source of information from your friends, sports figures, organizations, celebrities, etc., and you won't find a better way to interface with Twitter than Twitterrific. This app gives you a clean and clear timeline with powerful, yet easy, controls. It has it's drawbacks (including the inability to change your profile pic within the app), but I have experimented with numerous Twitter apps and found none better. It is $4.99 to upgrade this app, but I use the free version and find the ads at the top of my timeline minimally invasive.

3. Netflix




Ah, the wonder of Netflix. Streaming TV shows and movies over 3G? Yes, please. This free app does require a Netflix account (most are around $10 bucks a month), but it is ridiculously convenient. Best part in my opinion? This app usually does not get glitchy or freeze when your connection slows down. What will happen is it temporarily degrades the picture quality, making it grainy but watchable, while your information stream plays catch up.

4.IMDb




Most of us "in the know" already use this website to research all things Hollywood. The IMDb app takes that information and makes it that much more accessible. I am a sucker for old or obscure movies, and I find myself cross-referencing directors, actors, and movie titles on an almost daily basis. Remember that movie with Van-Damme where he uncovers a plot to kill prison inmates and sell their organs on the black market? IMDb does, and you can probably even watch the theatrical trailer while you are there.

5. SportsTap




My final entry on this list is a beauty of sheer information. A no-frills, stats-based, sports lovers dream. Up to date stats on most every sport that matters. I lean heavy on this app during Fantasy Football.

Notably missing from my list is the Facebook app which I use regularly. While I enjoy the connections that I have found through Facebook, the app is fraught with programming holes and errors.

Another thing noticeably not on this list are games. Truth is, I rarely play games on my iPhone. When I do it is usually Angry Birds or my newest app Fruit Ninja.

Don't forget to chime in on your favorite apps! I am eager to have my eyes opened to the great ones I have been missing.

- Posted from my iPhone

An Ear For Passion

As I consider all my varied interests, I can not help but see a silver thread running through their center. When it comes to enjoying the things around us, especially the arts, it helps to have a little inspiration.

The list of things that I have pursued because of the passion that I saw in someone else is long. I began listening to Ben Harper because of my brother Quentin. My favorite books,The Lord of the Rings series, came to my attention, through my brother Tyler's interest in The Hobbit. I have a growing interest in classical music that is being fueled by the unbridled passion of my third brother Trevor (and, in fairness, Pastor Nathan). Our families (clearly my brothers) tend to have a big impact on us. The sources for our sorted passions, however, can be as diverse as they are.

If you listen to the people around you in life you can absorb all sorts of bits. My third grade teacher Mrs. Dunn would read Roald Dahl books aloud to us in class, and they remain my favorite children's books. I have worked with various people who speak two languages, and I am convinced that I will learn Spanish and German before I die. Outside of teachers and co-workers, we can brush up against the passionate people that surround us each day. Even an acquaintance, like a man named John from culinary school, can declare that "Fleetwood Mac was almost too good" and thereby raise your awareness. (Go listen to the bass line 3/4 of the way through "The Chain" and you might agree with him). Without the input of these people I may never have found all of these great things. The only thing that is required is that you listen. The people in your life want to tell you, just listen.

We have an independent spirit in us that wants to strike out on it's own. We want to be the first to hear the newest greatest band. I would never have you cease to learn of the world around you. When you consider the ridiculous amount of information in the world it is overwhelming. Here is an idea, let those around you sort some of it out for you. The cream rises to the top, and some passionate fan will be there expounding on it's virtues when it breaks the surface. Just listen and be inspired.

- Posted from my iPhone

Battle over Battleground

Do you love Battleground? Many people do. I am not one of them. I would argue that you are probably not one of them either (even if you think you are).

I have a theory that when someone tells you that they love Battleground, what they mean is that they love a romantic idea of Battleground. The Battleground that they love has ceased to exist. It left long before Fred Meyer came to town.

I have lived in Woodland for 6 and 1/2 years. I love Woodland. We have all the small town appeal that is romanticized by the masses. In many ways, we are more like the "Battleground" that you love than Battleground.

When I was a kid we used to ride our bikes from Hockinson to BG. I loved that Battleground. It was Safeway, Burgerville, a high school, a library, Rocky's Pizza, and Dicks Tire Factory. And, later, it was McDonalds too.

In Woodland we currently have a McDonalds, a Burgerville, a pizza place, a High School, a Library...sound familiar? We even have a burgeoning population of Old Apostolics. We are enjoying the fruits of small town SW Washington longed for by our easterly neighbors.

According to City-data.com Battleground's population has increased 84.8% since 2000. In 2009 the population was over 17,000. Compare this to Woodland's population of 5,300 (again for 2009). All those people... And, trying to use infrastructure that was built to accommodate 7,000. Battleground is a mess. It grew too fast, and spent too little planning for that growth.

The Battleground of today is a frustrating quagmire of strip malls and failing retail. The traffic is fantastically terrible. Ask one of BG's cultish followers about traffic, and even the faithful will bob their heads in agreement over it's barbarous nature.

During my short (second) stint living in BG I was excited to see growth. I was thrilled when we got Albertson's and Hollywood Video. I thought it was what I wanted. It was the beginning of the end for that little hole in the map.

In case my arguments were wholly persuasive, I should add a proviso. I feel we may be on the cusp of the same mistakes in Woodland. I was excited to be getting a drive-thru Starbucks and a Walmart, but I pray that our city planners will be more wise about the coming years than their counterparts in the big BG. I think that either way we are in the twilight of our golden years.

Hey, there is always La Center...



- Posted from my iPhone

How Unfortunate

It was Tuesday night and I found myself in the unfortunate limbo of not having enough time to go home, and eat with my family, before my post-work obligations for the day. As a result I went through Panda Express drive-thru. (to those of you who are dismayed that a chef is eating fast food, please remember that I am a working professional and I find myself eating quick cheap food on a regular basis)

I am conflicted on Panda Express. It seems to me that it is cornering the Chinese food market by delivering a consistent, mediocre, product in a clean atmosphere. This isn't terrible if that is all you are looking for. The danger of course is that it leaves too small a market share for traditional "mom and pop" type restaurants. These local restauranteurs have often protected excellent family recipes for years only to find themselves without a customer base to serve. You could say that they have done it to themselves by too often neglecting the cleanliness of their establishments, or something else entirely. The subject is, honestly, too large and warrants a blog all it's own. The point of this post centers around the fortune that I found in my cookie.

My fortune read: Your principles mean more to you than any money or success.





This is a fine sentiment. It seems designed to build up my ego and make an easy excuse for my egregious poverty. In many ways it is a lie. Truth is I have never truly been given the choice between my principles and money. My initial reaction was to place it on my rearview mirror and pat myself on the back every time I checked traffic for a lane change. However, It began to gnaw at me almost immediately after I placed it in it's seat of glory.

In the first chapter of Dietrich Bonhoeffer's book Life Together there is a sentence that reads thus: Our righteousness is an "alien righteousness" a righteousness that comes from outside of us (extra nos). Truth is, I am not so principled that I am above success or the pursuit of money. I spend copious amounts of my life chasing after unholy manna. My principles/priorities are God, Family, Country. If you look closely you will see that I probably spend more time on the baser principles of Cafe Today, Football, and iPhones. Not because I am making a conscious decision to place these things above the things that are truly important, but I probably do. Here I can honestly echo the words of the apostle Paul: For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. (Romans 7:15).

Sadly my abject poverty cannot be blamed on my pious behavior. I would love to be able to paint myself the holy martyr for principles in an immoral society, but the reality is much less noble. Like many in my field I simply struggle to turn bring home a decent paycheck. I can not hide behind a flimsy piece of paper with Lotto numbers printed on the back.
- Posted from my iPhone

A Networked Society

Recently I have joined the ranks of the Facebook friendly. This is a big deal. Maybe not to you, but it is monumental for me. It is one of the things that I made the mistake of saying "never" about. I truly was never going to Facebook.

My 180• turn on this issue has me in contemplative mood. I have been delving deeper into what motivates myself and others to use this and other social networking sites.

I know why I initially joined Facebook. Ostensibly it was to give myself access in order to start a page for work. My Cafe Today location could use a little more exposure, and I volunteered my time to make that happen. So, joining was easy. Then I started "friending" people.

Make "friends" on Facebook is easy too. The act of clicking on the "send friend request" button takes no time at all. The thing is, I quickly realized that there was more to it than that. My mind tells me that linking my personal information with another person through a public website is simply one more exchange of 1's and 0's that we see all around us everyday. For some strange reason, however, actively seeking out people that I know was more impacting than I anticipated. For most of my "new friends" we never even exchanged words, and yet during the process I continued to hear the old AT&T tag-line "Reach out and touch someone" in my head. I could feel myself reconnecting emotionally with memories I had of these people, some of whom I haven't talked to in years.

It occurred to me that this was a big part of it. Notice what I just said at the end of the last paragraph. I was connecting to the memories that I had, not the people themselves. Connecting to friends was a nostalgic walk down memory lane. I have been very busy lately, and it felt good to stop down and reconnect ( even if only nominally), to people that I have known in my life. A rare reason to slow down and reminisce.

Today I was reading Burton Farley's travel blog which I found through a link that he posted on Facebook. Things like this make me realize that, going forward I believe Facebook could be a valuable tool for someone like me. I look on this, sort of distant fellowship with others, with blissful ignorance today. Skeptics might say that it could rob me of my motivation for real human interaction with these people, but before I simply had no contact. I did not know Burt and Christine were even in Norway, for example. So, as of now, I will soak up the experience and hope that I will have more common ground with my "friends" the next time we chance to meet in person.



- Posted from my iPhone

Spare the Change

The other day I came across a random Mexican coin that came back with us from one of our trips. It crossed my mind to throw it away like so many unwanted trinkets, but I resisted the urge. I'm not sure why.

The fact is, I found that I have a psychological aversion to junking currency. It isn't just Mexican coins that I have spared from a dark demise. I have found myself shuffling around others such as a Franc, and various Canadian coins at different times. Even the American Penny has extremely little actual worth, but I don't pitch them either.

It isn't my desire to become a coin collector. I usually just end up place them here and there until they get lost anyway. No, it is something else.

As a child it was not uncommon for me to witness my parents scrounging up spare change to find a way to pay for gas or a gallon of milk. I certainly have found myself doing a lot of the same in my adult life. One theory I have, is that being broke simply teaches you the value of small change. Only, that doesn't explain why I would save a single French "penny". You can't exchange that small of an amount of money, and I have no plans to travel internationally in the near future.

Another theory is that it feels disrespectful to throw away money in particular. Like making a snap judgement on the economies of the countries who back these coins. Declaring that these coins will forever remain valued at next to nothing. However, this theory seems far-fetched (even for a lighthearted blog article).

The other possibility is that I recognize the intrinsic value of a metal coin. On some level the ore mined and processed to make these coins has value no matter what border you cross. This too, is a thin argument. I don't have a forge for melting down metal. I also don't know of a metal recycling place where you can turn in a quarter of an ounce at a time.

My final theory is that i am simply exercising my packrat instincts. I tend to save things. (Somewhere Diana is nodding her head emphaticlly in agreement) I am working on it, but the reasons people store things are many and it is a particularly difficult habit to kick.

I suppose the real reason for my actions is a kaleidoscope view of many of the things miss-mashed together. We are complicated beings.

- Posted from my iPhone

British Petroleum

Need another reason to never buy crappy ARCO gas? They are the major distributers of BP gas in the States. I'm no enviromentalist but BP looks pretty bad about now.

You know who is a BP fan right now? Exxon. The Valdez spill is starting to look like no big deal.


- Posted from my iPhone

Just Another Saturday

Last Saturday I had to work. This led to a series of interesting events.

For those of you who do not know, I work in downtown Portland. Portland is not that big of a city, but the people who live there would really like it to be. As a result, they do a lot of stupid things. Speaking of stupid things, it was Gay Pride Weekend. But, before I get into that I would like to back up to give you the full timeline of my day.

In the morning we went to a parade in Woodland. It was a little sad. Parades are supposed to be a celebration of prosperity in the community. A real source of civic pride. Unfortunately, with the down economy, it felt hackneyed and threadbare.

Following our appearance at the parade, I went to work. Unfortunately they were replacing the roll-up door in the parking garage which forced me to park three blocks away. This is when I encountered the Gay Pride movement. It was a group made up of the fashionably unhappy. I guess they were protesting the fact that they live in an extremely liberal city with an openly gay mayor. They probably feel that people no longer respect the trials they must go through. Also, someone suggested that they had combined this with an Anti-Police Violence Rally. I just saw a bunch of selfish whiners blocking my way to work.

Once I finally waded through the throngs of limp-wristed protesters, I had to cook for a dinner party. It was a repeat of a menu that I had served at another home for Cinco De Mayo. This meant that I had a clear plan, but it got a little crazy because my schedule was compacted by being unable to get in to the building on time. I spent an hour and a half cooking, and it went pretty good. For those who are curious the menu was as follows:

Pollo Pablano with fresh tortillas

Pork Carnitas Mini Taco Bar with authentic trimmings

Bay Shrimp Tostadas with Pineapple Mango Salsa topped with Cilantro Lime Crema

Fresh Fruit Skewers

Spicy SW Artichoke Dip

Fresh Chips with Salsa and Guacamole

Following preparation, I had to retrieve my car so I could load up and make my delivery. Once again I was unable to use the garage so I was forced to load curbside. Because of the official nature of the building I work in, security is pretty tight. In order for me to load my catering out the side door there had to be a security officer standing watch. To be clear I was loading half a block away from the afore mentioned protest. This made the security officer nervous. We had protesters, lines of police on bikes (see the above picture), and police on horses 100 feet in front of us and lines of police in riot gear 200 feet behind us.

Once I got out of downtown I had to make the delivery. This particular party was in Portland's West Hills. This is a affluent part of Portland, and our customers on that day were obviously successful. This isn't that shocking or significant other than the contrast it presented to the scene I had just left. I went from pushing my way through a bunch of ne'er-do-wells to chatting up a lively bunch of socialites.

As a bookend to my kaleidoscope day I returned to our home town Planters Day festival. We took our beautiful children to the carnival and enjoyed an easy paced evening.

I hope this post doesn't read to much like a lame journal entry. I was simply struck by the queer (wink) events of the day.

As I finish this, the second half of U.S. vs Ghana is on and if the U.S. can pull out a win perhaps my next post will be about this Saturday.


- Posted from my iPhone

The More You Know

I used to scoff at the idea of a car company advertising intermittent windsheild wipers in this day and age. I put it in the same category as motels that have reader boards advertising color television. Now I am driving a car whose wipers have two settings: on or off. How did I allow myself to grow so egotistical? Why did I think I was so smart and the advertising executives were so old-hat? I have a clear record of being wrong about lots of things, and I should know better than to look down on others by now.

A few years ago I realized that my favorite Coldplay song was actually not a Coldplay song, but in fact it was-"Funeral" by Band of Horses. I was living under the assumption that Paul Harvey was a black man until someone called me on it and I found out that he was as vanilla as they come. It took me years to figure that horizon is pronounced "her-rise-in" and not "whore-a-zon". I was mortified, the first time I ever played the basketball game PIG, when my playmates informed me that I had to pee (They were trying to tell me that I had a "P"). Trust me, my list of wrongs is very long.

We all have lists like this I suppose. It is good to remember that the beginning of wisdom is realizing how little we truly know.


- Posted from my iPhone