There had been infrequent talk about having a retreat for the adults of our little church, but the talk never got very far. Cost and effort were big deterrents, and because of that, the idea would evaporate from our attentions.
Rhonda (fictitious name) was the person who always brought up the idea. Eventually, creating the retreat became her project. Years of dreaming about it and asking “what would a retreat look like” took root and started growing.
Singlehandedly, Rhonda found a location for the retreat, did research about how to organize a retreat, and planned the details. The retreat became a reality solely because of her ownership and passion for the idea. Continue reading
Bella and I were taking our daily walk and crossed paths with a fellow walker and his dog. These frequent encounters always result in a 5-10-minute path talk, often about health or the latest news or something pertaining to our City.
This conversation was about the school shooting in Parkland, Florida, halfway between Palm Beach and Miami. Seventeen children dead because of an angry teen and his assault rifle. There are no words. Continue reading
“Mom, I’m bored.”
The plaintive comment came from a child with cell phone in hand, headed toward the kitchen with no particular plans for the day. Mom is the usual source of ideas for activities.
Bored child had been trained for years to be such. Activities served like smorgasbord, requiring no effort or cooking skills. Just show up and eat. Television always on. No creativity tools lying around in the family room. If it is not suggested or offered by Mom, it doesn’t exist. Continue reading
Will you bless my house?
The request came from a friend who was about to move into her first “owned” home.
I didn’t grow up in a tradition that blessed stuff. It was seen as trivial. It also revealed a theological bifurcation of the world into sacred and secular, and thus assigned house blessing to the secular side of things. Which was interpreted as a cheapening of the Gospel by the unholy attention to such worldly stuff. Or so we were taught. Continue reading
My dog and I take daily walks on a bike path that passes by our backyard. I like the creek that it follows as well as the regulars that share the path with me.
Occasionally I am surprised by the people I encounter.
Such as “Jim.” [fictitious name] Continue reading
This is not a post about drinking, although that is where I will start.
In 1995 I had a heart attack, after which a friend of mine brought me a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon saying, “Now you have to drink this.” It was a health regimen that he also followed because of his father’s death to heart disease. Continue reading
Our church began in the most difficult form of church plant, the parachute drop. In a PD a church planter and spouse move to a new community without a team or any other accoutrements. In short, they “parachute” into town.
And that’s what we did. Continue reading
Two fish were swimming in the ocean when they were approached by another fish. “How’s the water,” he asked.
After he swam away, one of the two fish looked at the other and said, “What on earth is water?”
The story was told at a 3-day workshop called “Helping Men to Change.” The speaker told the story to illustrate how unaware we are, men and women, of the cultural assumptions in which we swim. In this case it was the rules we accept about men and how they are to conduct their lives. For example, “Men can’t cry” – the number one rule for men, and “men must fix things.”. Continue reading
Our conversation began with, “Are you a pastor?”
I don’t know where that came from. I never did anything that would have given away my identity. Plus, on the bike path I was always wearing a dirty ball cap and blue jeans. Incognito. Or so I thought. Continue reading