My Brother, The Thief

Ten Things I Love...

2012-01-20T14:40:00.001-05:00

There's an old joke that goes like this:

A mother went to wake her son for church one Sunday morning. When she knocked on his door, he said, "I'm not going!"

"Why not?" asked his mother.

"I'll give you two good reasons," he said. "One, they don't like me. Two, I don't like them."

His mother replied, "I'll give you two good reasons why YOU WILL go to church. One, you're 47 years old. Two, you're the pastor!"

There are times when any of us "don't like the church" - even the pastor. When I was doing my internship at Southland Christian Church in Lexington, KY, senior minister Mike Breaux remarked that there were times when he didn't want to be pastor. He would dream about becoming a greenskeeper on a golf course. One day he approached Bob Russell, the senior minister of Southeast Christian Church in Louisville and asked him if he'd ever thought about that.

"No way!" Bob answered. After a pause, he said, "I wouldn't be a greeskeeper; I would manage a Dairy Queen!"

There are times when it's tough being a pastor - there are times when it's tough being a church member. Yet I love the church. Here are some reasons I love the church.

1. God loves the Church. He even goes so far as to call the Church the Bride of Christ. If God loves the church, I do, too! It's not cool to say, "I like Jesus, but I think His wife is a skank."

2. I am constantly amazed by how people are growing in their faith.

3. It is great to be a part of something greater than myself. There are things that the Church does every day that I couldn't do at all by myself. An example is our "Christmas is not your birthday" offering, through which we gave over $2000 to the Hebron New Life Baby Pantry. I couldn't have done that, but the Church did. And that's just one small example.

4. People in the Church love my family. Families in the church give my kids Christmas presents just, not because they are "the pastor's kids" but just because they love my kids for who they are. When we take "extra" kids into our family, there are amazing people who step up to help my wife with them during services or to make sure our first girl has pink clothes to wear.

5. God believes in the Church. God believes that the Church can be the vehicle to carry His Word to the world, and I love that!

6. A diverse community comes together in unity. This can be hard to achieve, but I have seen it in action. When the focus is on Jesus Christ, all of the other stuff becomes extraneous.

7. When we get together, it's celebration time! God doesn't only work on Sunday morning; God is continually at work. Therefore, when we get together once a week, we can celebrate what God is doing!

8. Praise with other people is greater than praise by myself. It is so wonderful to sing praises as I go running, but it's way better to join with others in singing, raising hands to the Lord.

9. The Gates of Hell won't prevail against the Church! Isn't it awesome that Jesus gives humans this amazing power? We can storm the Gates of Hell, because Satan is powerless against us!

10. Jesus is here! He said where we gather together in unity, he will be there with us. Isn't this the picture of church!

There are many, many more things I love about the Church, but I needed to limit it to 10 to make it a proper Top Ten list. What about you? What do you love about the Church?

2011 Family Retrospective

2011-12-27T16:27:00.003-05:00

I have had several people tell me they were just ready for 2011 to be gone and to get the new start in 2012. It has been a difficult year for a lot of my friends, and it can be easy to focus on the negative. But something I heard today stuck with me; nobody has "proof" that positive thinking "works" but we know that negative thinking does.

So here are some highlights of the past year.

Early in February, I went to a conference in Minneapolis (you have to mean to go to a conference then and there - you don't get there by accident) and ended up getting snowed in and staying a little later than planned (thanks, Joel, Shay, and Juju (and don't forget Jake) for letting me crash at their place!) I went running there - outside, of course, in the -8* windchill... those northerners are tough!

Of course, less than a month later, my family got the opportunity to go on a cruise. We had never done it before but the price was right and the destination (western Caribbean) was perfect. I had to ask what one must do to be appointed the pastor of the Antigua Methodist Church! ;-) One of my highlights was snorkeling. That was a blast! We didn't even mind being "stuck" on the ship, and I was the only one who ever felt seasick. Running around the little track while the ship was moving was somewhat adventurous!

In the Spring, Jonathan continued to play soccer, and I was one of his coaches. We had a good time, and it was fun to see the kids grow in their skills. Andrew decided not to play Spring soccer, because he just wanted to play baseball. But when soccer season started, he was very disappointed to not have a game!

Both boys got to play on the same t-ball team; Andrew loved it and Jonathan put up with it. I've never been a baseball player or fan, but I managed to get out a lot with the boys to play catch or to practice batting.

In May, I ran a personal best in the half marathon at Cap City (Columbus). I ran 1:36, which was16 minutes faster than I'd ever raced (though I'd run a 1:44 in training). It was a fun race; I could get into racing half marathons!

June, July, and August had us taking short travel breaks. In June we went to Lakeside (for my Annual Conference) - we took a side trip to ride on the Cuyahoga Scenic Railroad with the cousins. In July we went to Lake Michigan with Tara's family. The boys always enjoy the beach. In August we went to Camp Sychar and spent ten days there. It was really hot, but I still managed to have the most mileage of the summer while we were there, as the Kokosing Gap Trail was a mile away from camp.

Erie, Pennsylvania, was the setting in September, as I ran the Erie Marathon at Presque Isle. I was shooting for 3:20, which was the cut-off for my (new) age group to qualify for the Boston Marathon. My training was solid, but I fell short in my attempt by 4 minutes. I wasn't upset about it, because it was still as 16 minute personal best. Who can complain about that?

Since we were already that way, we decided to go on to Niagara Falls. The boys really loved it, and I was surprised how well my legs cooperated after Erie. We walked a lot! Jonathan and Andrew got to experience their first out-of-country trip, as we stayed on the Canadian side.

In the fall, both boys got to play soccer. I coached Andrew's U5 team, the Kickers (the team chose their name). They were so much fun! Jonathan played for the CFA Academy team, meaning they traveled all over the Columbus area for their games (in addition to two practices per week). They also had a tournament in Cincinnati, where they were runners-up (losing in the championship game in penalty kicks after overtime). That was a lot of soccer, especially since I didn't play this year!

For my 40th birthday this year, I went for a three-day silent retreat, and I loved it. I loved getting to spend uninterrupted time with God. What a fantastic birthday gift.

Jonathan also started Cub Scouts this year, meaning popcorn sales, den meetings, pack meetings, badges, everything-o-rees, and Tara and I leading his den. He really enjoys it, and Andrew can't wait until he gets to be a Cub Scout.

We also joined AWANA this year, and it has been a blessing watching (and helping) the boys memorize scripture and have such fun doing it. During my Christmas sermon, I was so proud as I watched Andrew quoting John 3:16 along with me.

Through this year I have made some good friends, especially running friends, and have been blessed by so many people. I am looking forward to what God has in store for us in 2012!

Over the Top

2011-12-09T16:42:00.001-05:00

Today for my day off, we planned a busy day, including a trip to The Chiller to enjoy their (less expensive) noon skate. On the way out, we picked up some used ice skates at Play it Again Sports (think early Christmas presents), and we were all excited to try them out.

When we got to the Chiller (we go to the "Ice Haus" one at Nationwide Arena), it seemed awfully empty... and the guy behind the counter told us why; there was no noon skate scheduled today. It seems the Blue Jackets had scheduled the ice, and, well, if it weren't for the Blue Jackets, there wouldn't be an Ice Haus. He really politely told us that if we wanted to, we could come back for the skate at 3:45, which wasn't really a choice for us, because we needed to be back to M'port around 4.

We tried to think of something else to do with the kids in the arena district, when the guy behind the counter came back out. He explained that the goalie had been out skating and had only used a corner of the ice and it would be better ice for what they had scheduled later if the ice was more cut up, so if we waited for a while, we could skate after all. We just had to wait for one guy who was out practicing.

It was actually cool to watch him practice - it can be easy to forget how quick a hockey player has to be to excel in his sport. But after he had finished, we got the go-ahead to take the ice. We had a great time!

Jonathan really is picking up ice skating. Andrew spent a lot of time on the ice. But both boys had a lot of fun, and Tara and I enjoyed it fully.

But that wasn't all. The guy behind the counter, feeling bad that we had to wait so long to skate, gave us four free passes to come back and skate. And when we were leaving, he gave the boys each a Columbus Blue Jackets hockey stick.

He didn't have to let us skate at all; after all, the mistake was ours. He could have just told us "sorry, we don't have noon skate today" and we wouldn't have held it against him, the Chiller, or the Blue Jackets. But he went above and beyond, over the top even, in his customer service. What an awesome day!

Turkey Trot Race Recap

2011-12-08T07:37:00.001-05:00

This was the inaugural Turkey Trot 5K put on by my friend and the Mount Vernon Running Buddies on Thanksgiving morning. It was cold here, and I didn't know how to dress for the race - especially needing to dress over an hour before. So I went with tights and a semi-warm long-sleeve tech T, gloves and headband. That turned out to be too warm (of course). The wind was pretty chilly, but it was almost 40* by race time. This race was a free race benefiting Food for the Hungry, a local (Mt. Vernon) food bank. I figured it was a good cause and I still owed Dave one for running me in at Erie, so I made the trek up to Mt. Vernon.

Dave told me that I might be one of the faster runners there, so I paid close attention to the race instructions, especially directions. Thankfully Dave's dad led the pack on his bike, so I didn't get lost. Since I was the first one there, I got to sign in first, and I was given the "elite" bib number... #1! It wasn't really a "bib" per se; it was a nametag with a number printed on it. But I was #1.

After everyone had signed in and given their donations to Food for the Hungry and after about two miles of warm-up around campus, Dave gave some race instructions, took a group picture, and lined us up at the start line.

The race started out with a mad sprint through campus. It was quickly clear who the competition was - two young guys sprinted to the front and pulled out to a sizable lead. I was already thinking "third isn't bad" when I realized that the one kid was not running steady; he was speeding up and slowing down. At that, I knew he was mine. I passed him around the mile mark, and he told me "good job." I told him to run smoothly, just keep going. The other guy was a cross-country-runner looking guy, and he was out in front by a bit. As we turned into the wind, I thought that I ought to let him take the wind for me. So I kicked it and caught up with him to draft. At first I don't think he realized I was there - he had his headphones on - and he turned and spat just as I was catching up to him... thanks a lot, buddy! As I picked up the pace, he started looking back... meaning I was in his head. So instead of drafting, I kicked past him, putting distance between us. I figured he was strong and he would keep up with me, but he didn't.

So after the 1 1/2 mile mark, I was out in front. It was hard to keep mentally in the race, but I determined not to look back. After all, the only race I have to run is what is in front of me! I kept concentrating on Dave's dad on the lead bike and kept going. When we went around a sharp corner, I snuck a look back and cross country guy was wayyyy back.

I tried to keep my concentration level high, not to think about how far back anybody might be, to keep my pace steady, and to only look forward. I kept pushing to keep up with Dave's dad on the lead bike (and he kept pulling away - amazing how much easier it is to go fast on a bike!), but that was what I needed from him.

As we pulled back onto campus, nobody was close. Coming around one corner, my "bib" went flying off (I picked it up later on my cool-down run). I figured (correctly) that nobody would care. I had one spot where I was a little confused on the course, but it turned out OK, as I came around the corner and saw the finish line ahead of me.

I took this moment to look at my Garmin and I saw that a PR was in the realm of possibility, so I pushed as hard as I could to the finish line. Alas, I was one second off the PR, finishing in 19:28.

Pretty much as soon as I finished, I turned around and ran the course in reverse direction as a cool down. I was so pumped up from the outright win that I probably could have run it three times. This was my first overall win since the 8th grade, and it felt good!

Homecoming

2011-11-11T09:56:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I got to experience what is great about living in a small town. A friend's son has been serving in the Air Force and yesterday he returned to Ohio from Afghanistan. Millersport turned out with flags and banners,they gave him a police and fire truck escort, and all of the school kids came out of the school and lined the street to thank Garrett for his service. When he saw the crowd, they stopped the car and Garrett got out and greeted all the kids. It was a wonderful homecoming for a local hero, and, to me, this represented the best of small-town life - that here in the small town, we can all stop and honor someone who made a sacrifice for our freedom.

A Leaf Story

2011-10-11T15:49:00.002-05:00

One day in the woods, the most beautiful red leaf camelightly falling through the forest canopy. As it drifted down, it spied agreen, leafy bush below.

“That would be a fantastic place to land!” thought the redleaf, and it fluttered down toward the bush, where it gently landed.

Safely in the bush, the red leaf began meeting its newneighbors, the green leaves. They were very kind, and soon the red leaf hadforgotten that it had begun its life in a tree. It felt like it fit inperfectly. So perfectly that it began volunteering to work around the bush,work that it saw the green leaves doing.

And how joyful was that work! It was so nice being involved.The green leaves loved the red leaf. The red leaves loved the green leaf. Thegreen leaves invited the red leaf to stay. “Become one of us,” they begged.“You can be grafted in!”

But while the red leaf loved the green bush, the red leafalso liked its independence. The red leaf liked the idea that it could come andgo whenever it pleased, that it could once again take to the freedom of thesky. In the meantime, the red leaf faithfully worked in the green bush.

As the days went on, something happened. The red leaf wasn’tquite sure when it started, but one day it noticed that it wasn’t really enjoyingdoing the work that the green leaves all did. And its luxurious red color,which the green leaves had all noticed, was turning a bit brown. And though thered leaf had taken pride in how flexible it was, now it noticed that at certaintimes, its points felt, well, rather brittle.

So things continued – for the green leaves, everything wasas usual. But for the red leaf, every day was harder and harder to face. Nobodyelse seemed to feel it, but the red leaf was getting tired of life in the greenbush.

And then one day, the red leaf decided to leave. Just assuddenly as it had arrived on the green bush, and in precisely the same manner,it left, taking once again to the air. But this time, there was no other bushto land in. The red leaf landed on the ground, where it was promptly raked up,piled into a giant pile, and unceremoniously burned.

What had gone wrong?

Though the red leaf lived in the green bush, the red leafnever accepted its place there. The red leaf had the opportunity to be graftedin, but it thought of its “freedom” and declined. Therefore, without anyconnection to the bush and to its root, the red leaf was slowly dying. By thetime it fell from the bush, it was already dead, and the only thing left to dowas for someone to rake it up and burn it.

“I am the vine; youare the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit;apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not remain in me, he is like abranch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown inthe fire and burned.” - Jesus; from John 15:5-6

Isolation vs. Connection

2011-10-04T12:16:00.005-05:00

This week I read a statistic that said that 70% of pastorsfight depression constantly. For full disclosure, I should note that while I donot fight it constantly, I do have my seasons of depression. Thankfully,running is often an extremely effective “medication” for this. When I heard this statistic, I shared it onFacebook, and I got some interesting responses.

Among the responses were lack of privacy, politics (on localchurch levels as well as district and conference levels), poor time managementskills, poor boundaries and/or the inability to say no, and an ability to hidedepression well. One of the big problems for pastors is one of isolation; weare often held to an impossible standard, all the while being subject tounreasonable scrutiny and criticism for everything conceivable under the sun.If you add to that a tendency toward perfectionism (at least this is somethingI deal with; believe me – I am way harder on myself than any of you are on me).

As I was thinking about this, I realized that isolation isincreasingly problematic for many people, not just pastors, but that’s why Godorganized us into the church! For me, I have found wonderful respite in my“clergy cluster” – a community group made up of fellow pastors who support eachother, encourage one another, and even collaborate on sermon series. I havefound a renewed sense of United Methodist connectionalism, but even moreso, Ihave experienced the love and support of my colleagues, and I no longer feelisolated. I believe God has made that kind of connection available for all of us, and He called that connection“Church.” We do not have to be isolated! God is so good!

No Christian needs to spend their time depressed andisolated. Jesus Himself calls us to “Come unto me, all who are weary andheavy-laden, and I will give you rest.” And many times, Jesus takes the form offellow Christians who come alongside and share the burden.

The best thing for pastors (and everyone else!) to rememberis that Jesus will carry our burdens. When things are at their most difficult,seek Jesus. The Bible tells us that God rewards those who earnestly seek him(Hebrews 11:6b). That is my prayerfor all of us.

If you suffer from clinical depression, there is no shamewhatsoever in receiving treatment. But for the daily malaise that many peopleexperience, there is nothing like experiencing God’s Goodness to bring youthrough. I have found that when I spend my time communing with the Lord, thingsfall into perspective. There are times when I find myself in need of Truth,God’s Truth, which counteracts and nullifies the world’s lies. When youencounter those lies, speak God’s Truth – speak it aloud (there is power in thespoken word; after all; God made us in His image, and God spoke the world into existence). When I am reminded of how much God loves me, I am humbled andblessed. When I think about the fact that Iam a vessel of the Holy Spirit, that God Himself has chosen to live in me, I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

Another thing that I have found helpful when I’m down in thedumps is service. When I am serving someone else, I usually find myself beingthe one who gets uplifted. And it’s no wonder; Jesus says that when we serve“the least of these,” we are, in fact, serving Him. So we find ourselves in theimmediate presence of Jesus Christ. How can we be anything but filled with joy?

Remember if you are one who struggles with depression thatyou are not alone. Tell someone who loves you and who you can trust to upliftyou. Allow your church family to pray for you. And receive the gift of the HolySpirit, who is a Spirit of Power, a power greater than everything we face onthis earth!

Restaurant Review: Como Deli

2011-09-19T20:00:00.001-05:00

Since I dragged my family to Erie, PA, to shiver in the "cold" (perfect running weather, not-so-perfect-spectating weather), it's only right that we all do something together as a family, and since we were 2/3 of the way to an amazing natural wonder, it would be a shame to miss out on Niagara Falls.

But the Falls aren't the topic of this post. The topic is food.

When we are on trips, we generally enjoy trying new places, especially local restaurants (as opposed to chains). So at the Niagara Falls information desk (where the guy told us to save our money on the "package deal" because it wasn't going to be worth it for us - who says New Yorkers are rude?), we asked the guy (who incidentally looked like he was someone who would know) where we should go to eat. He started with the nearby "touristy" places, but we asked him where he would eat. He directed us to Little Italy on Pine Street, where we found The Como Restaurant.

Well, we actually found the Como Deli, which is the fast side of the Restaurant. We didn't exactly know what to order, but the woman behind the counter was extremely friendly and showed us what they had. We chose a Manicotti dinner which had two huge Manicottis (is there a correct plural for Manicotti? Or is that the plural of Manicotto?) - one cheese (for Tara) and one meat (for me). It came with two sides, so she had a meatball and I had an Italian sausage. At our request, she drenched the whole thing with sauce. The kids went with pizza and shells with red sauce.

The food was fantastic. It was out-of-this-world good. It was come back and eat here every day good. It was move into the neighborhood and beg for a job there so I can eat it more frequently good.

And what made it even better was the staff. It seemed like they greeted almost all of their customers by name and were extremely friendly. When we asked what a particular dessert was, they gave us a couple of them. Free. And when our boys saw a little girl eating a cookie and wanted their own cookies, and we sent Andrew to the counter to buy a couple. They wouldn't take his money and gave him several cookies. And more when he went back for another (and still they wouldn't take his money).

This was one of the best restaurant experiences I can remember.

(for full-disclosure purposes, they did give us free desserts and free cookies for the boys, and the meal was so horribly underpriced that we thought they had possibly forgotten to ring something up - like "cheaper than McDonalds" priced - but nobody from the restaurant staff had any clue that I was going to write a review and they probably won't read this but that's fine)

Erie Marathon at Presque Isle Race Recap

2011-09-18T19:28:00.000-05:00

When the news came out that the Boston Marathon was changing its qualifying times (of course, making it harder to get in), a friend of mine realized that the Columbus Marathon wouldn't be the qualifier that we expected it to be. As you might remember from reading my blog, I am turning 40 shortly, meaning I get an additional 5 minutes to qualify for Boston. But with the changes, I lose that five minutes. And those changes are as of Sunday, Sept. 25 (and Columbus isn't run until October). The plan I was working from wanted me to shoot for a 7:17 pace (for a 3:11 finish), but I was more realistic and was shooting for a 3:20, which would qualify me for Boston and would be a 20 minute Personal Record (PR)... as long as I ran before 9/25. The Erie Marathon at Presque Isle was the race that fit the bill... 9/18, flat as a pancake, and quite affordable.

So on Saturday (after an extremely early U5 soccer game and pictures, for which we had to be at the field at 7:30), we headed to Erie, PA. We made it to beautiful Presque Isle for packet pick-up and the small expo (three exhibits). The marathon shirts are nice - long-sleeve tech shirts (I got a similar one a couple of years back and have almost worn it out). They additionally threw in some 2011 Erie Marathon tech socks, which was cool. The kids enjoyed playing at the park for a while, and then we headed to the Tom Ridge Environmental Center, a really cool (FREE!) museum, where we enjoyed a movie about Beavers on their huge IMAX screen (we went back on Sunday afternoon to enjoy the museum a little more). Then we went and found some high-carb food on a crowded restaurant night.

4:30 am came extremely early on Sunday morning, but I wasn't sleeping really well; I just wanted to get out and get running. I had gotten my race outfit together in advance as well as everything I'd need for pre-race, during-race, and post-race. It was chilly when we got to Presque Isle; about 50* and windy. I mostly skulked around trying to find somewhere out of the wind.

At the start line, they directed us to stand in areas representing our pace; I stood directly between the 7 and 8, representing the 7:30 I planned to run. There I met Mark and David, runners I've "met" on dailymile, and we decided to run together. After some preliminaries (10 seconds before the countdown clock got to 0), we got a marks-getset-go! and we were off!

It was smooth running all the way. The course was beautiful and flat, running around Presque Isle State Park twice. It was a much smaller marathon than I've run before, and the half marathon started 1/2 hour later, so we didn't have to be concerned with that part of the crowd. We went out fast, though we really tried to temper the pace (and it didn't quite hit me that Mark's 3:20 goal had morphed into 3:15). We had fun; the guys I was running with are really cool guys - very friendly, very chatty. As the race went on, I realized that I couldn't keep up their pace, so I dropped back and ran with Sean and Gary - I'd "met" Gary on the "I am Running the Erie Marathon at Presque Isle" facebook group. These were two hilarious guys. I loved running with them. The time passed quickly while we ran together (about 10 miles).

Because of the way the loops were situated, it was very easy for spectators to hang out at the start/finish line and then walk across to see us again, so it was cool to see my family at the start, at the 5.8 mile mark, at the halfway point, at the 18.9 mile mark, and at the finish (I will post some pictures once I upload them from the camera). It is always great to see familiar faces and hear your name being called. The only problem with this was that it made it way too convenient for the spectators to only be in these two locations, meaning there were a lot of lonely areas in between. There were water/sports drink stops every mile, and every group passing out drinks (including some cross country teams, a scout troop, some costumed characters [Gumby was a notable costume], and a group of people dressed as hillbillies (advising us that "every tenth cup has moonshine in it") was wonderful, not only passing out drinks, but also cheering us on (I would advise anyone to not take the marshmallows handed out by the scouts, however. No matter how they told you that it was "fast sugar," there was no way I could chew one of those at mile 20+!)

My half marathon split was 1:36:50, which was 50 seconds off my PR for the 1/2 marathon (set this Spring at the Cap City Half) - I wonder how fast I could run one of those after a strong summer of training...

I took PowerBar gels at miles 10, 15, and 20, and I have to say I love that stuff. I can't choke down Gu (I tried at about mile 22) and don't get me started on those puketastic energy jelly bellies.

As the race went on, I started doing the math. My mile times had been increasing, and I saw my BQ slipping away. I had promised myself I wouldn't be disappointed as long as I had given it my all, but it was a little disconcerting to see that time slipping away. But by the last 6 miles, I was struggling. I decided to stop and walk through the water stops, which was probably a good idea; although my times dropped to about 9 minute miles for the last several, none reached the 10 minute+ mark like happened last year at Columbus.

Toward the end of the race, my friend Brandon came motoring by, running really smoothly for a guy who's been sidelined by injury for the last several weeks. Then I saw my friend Dave, who was planning to run the race with me but who got injured and ended up changing his registration to the half (and running a phenomenal 1:36 in it). Dave ran alongside me and cheered me on, pushing me to pick my pace up and finish strong.

I finished in 3:24, four minutes off the Boston Qualifier, but 16 minutes faster than the PR I set last year in Columbus. I am extremely pleased with my time and with my effort. I was 77th overall (out of 600 or so) and was 13th in my age group. This was a great marathon, and I plan to return.

After the race, they had bagels (the good cinnamon crunch kind from Panera), bananas, chocolate milk (which is great recovery drink, and not just because Dave Parsons says it is), watermelon (awesome!), and it seems like something else, but I can't think of what, probably because I didn't choose to have any. Then they had Subway sandwiches, chips, cookies, and pop, free for runners and for a $1 for anyone else (with the $1 going to a local food bank). GREAT!

I feel tons better than I did after my last marathon, and I'm extremely pleased with my new PR. Though I was touting this as my "one chance to qualify for Boston" I am confident that if I train hard (after some rest, of course), I can drop the additional 9 minutes off my time. After all, last fall I dropped 38 minutes, and this fall I dropped 16 off that.

Sweet Corn Festival

2011-09-06T10:43:00.001-05:00

Every year in the week before Labor Day, Millersport holds its annual Sweet Corn Festival. I understand that people in every town are proud of their local festival (or despises every mention of it because of the inconvenience and crowding and noise and trash caused by the festival), and there's something about a local festival that is essential Americana.

Last week we spent a lot of time at Lion's Park (the location of the festival). Wednesday was the parade (a good parade, which, in my opinion, is judged by how many marching bands participate) - and everyone follows the parade to the festival grounds. We walked around and greeted our friends, ate donuts, people-watched, and watched a tractor pull.

Thursday was my highlight of the Festival; it was the date of our church's second annual lunch for the concessionaires. We used to think of the ride/game workers as "carnies" but (thanks to a woman in our church) we now see the Durant Amusements workers as our "festival family." I mentioned this last year when we had our inaugural luncheon for them, but their workers blow away all stereotypes. Many (most?) are international college students from places like Russia, Ukraine, Mongolia, Kyrgyzstan, Turkey, and Macedonia. They are serious students, studying to be engineers, dentists, nurses, lawyers, and so forth. We enjoyed meeting them and hearing their stories and feeding them a home-cooked meal.

Thursday evening we took the boys to ride the rides. Jonathan had soccer practice, so I took him to the festival after practice, while Andrew and Tara went earlier. We ended up buying them wristbands so they could ride everything as much as they wanted. They had a blast. We saw many of our new friends, and since Thursday was the slower day, we had time to relax. One of the workers recognized us and insisted that we ride free on the Ferris Wheel - it was fantastic.

Friday Tara and the boys made cotton candy all morning, and Saturday was the 5K race. After the race, the family made more cotton candy (I showered first). We were back in the evening to help out in the MHS music boosters' booth (selling ice cream, cream puffs, and apple dumplings) - I brought the boys home and Tara stayed to help clean up.

I was thinking this about the festival: I saw a lot of parents I knew, especially parents whose kids are near our kids' age. Some of the kids were helping out and others were just hanging out. But they are there. Every year they will be, and when they get older, they will be working in the booths because they're already involved in the activities the community offers. Sure, every community (and I mean every community) has the complaint that there's "nothing to do" but some of us manage to find something to keep us busy... and we love it.

I think of the Sweet Corn Festival as the one time when everyone who has ever lived in Millersport comes back, and I think the connection that many people made while working in the various booths has something to do with that. Sure, it's hard work, tiring and hot. But it's one of those things that people look back on with fond memories.

And isn't that what makes Americana?

Race Report: 2011 Sweet Corn Festival 5K

2011-09-04T09:53:00.001-05:00

The Sweet Corn Festival 5K (Ken Keener Classic) was one of the first races I ever ran in Central Ohio - I first ran it back in 2005 when I lived in Gahanna and had some friends who had a place on Buckeye Lake. The 210# version of me struggled in that race; I remember the first mile being quick and the second mile seeming to stretch forever, going way out into the country before returning to the finish line in some 24 minutes.

Now the SCF 5K is my hometown race, and I run on the race course multiple times every week; it doesn't seem nearly as long any more. Twice I placed in my age group, and last year I ran the course in a then-PR before the race in order to run with my 6 year old son. This year I came with high hopes: a top 20 finish, and hopefully a time faster than 19 minutes.

My first issue came before the race. I am used to running at 6:00 am, and the race didn't start until 9. Meaning the day had three hours to heat up, and heat up it did. Just standing at the start line was enough to make us all dripping sweaty - I began to question my race strategy and how hard I should realistically push. My plan was to push the first mile around 5:50 and to run the last two miles in 6:11 or 6:12. That would put me just under 19 minutes for the race. I ran the first mile right on target, in 5:50, but then the wheels fell off. I needed to back off the pace because it was simply too hot and humid. By rule, I don't take water on a 5K, but I was grabbing water from all the water stops and I really appreciated the guy standing with a hose "shower" for us to run through.

One thing I really loved about this race was the fact that I have been here three years now and am rather well-known in the community. The community support I felt was amazing. I had people cheering for me all along the course. I was constantly giving thumbs-up to people cheering me on. Another highlight was just after the two mile mark. By this time, I was running alone; I had given up on catching the runners ahead of me, and there was nobody near enough behind me to catch me - it was the first time in a 5K that I can remember thinking "maybe I should take a walk break" - but then came the water stop at the turn around. I knew almost everyone there, especially two of my family's close friends, Richard and Bruce. As I came toward the water station, I gave them a "bring it on" motion, and they all threw their water on me. I loved it!

I didn't have much of a kick to finish; in fact, my third mile time was dreadful (for me). I finished in 19:47 (respectable - not fantastic, but good, especially considering the heat), and I was 19th place overall, and second in my age group.

I ran the second and third miles of the course to "cool down" and met some of the walkers and encouraged them (like, "There are thousands of people in this area who not only didn't beat you in this race, but only walked from the bedroom to the kitchen to the couch this morning, and you are doing 3.1 miles."). When I got back by Richard and Bruce, they had cleaned up their water stop, so I splashed my water bottle around toward them. They got a chuckle out of that.

I had to wait to get my AG award until after the door prizes were announced - the SCF usually has a ton of door prizes (including gift certificates for free Weldon's Ice Cream, which I was hoping for!), and I ended up having my name called last... and the only door prize they had left to give me was a warm bottle of Powerade. :-)

Overall it was a good race, and I was glad I ran. Maybe next 5K I'll break 19 minutes. But that will have to wait until after the Erie Marathon on the 18th...

2011-08-15T13:56:00.000-05:00

Five

Andrew celebrated his fifth birthday this past week, and it got me to thinking about birthdays.

I don't remember most of my birthdays; I remember one when I was sick and I got a woolly mammoth model, but I don't even remember what year that was. I remember one in college when my sister woke me up at approximately 12:01 to be "the first" to wish me a happy birthday... and shortly after we hung up, my roommate came in and was on the phone until 2:30 or so, and the next day I got some birthday cards in the mail and a fraternity brother asked, "What is it, your birthday?" and when I said "yes, as a matter of fact, it is" he didn't even respond with an obligatory "happy birthday."

But I do remember my fifth birthday. For several reasons. One was that I remember feeling like five years old was big stuff. I finally reached the big time.

The second reason I remember my fifth birthday was the unique "present" I got on my fifth birthday. My brother and sister and I woke up earlier than our parents (think "crack of dawn") and went downstairs to play, and we were surprised to find an indoor pool to play in! The sewers had backed up and our entire basement was filled with an inch or two of, well, sewage. Being little kids, we played in it, floating bottle caps and so forth. When my parents got up, they were shocked and not in a good way. We spent the rest of my birthday at grandma's house.

The third reason I remember my fifth birthday was what I got. As a little boy, I would get fixated on one thing and one thing only when it came to gifts. Sure, I'd mark up the toy catalog with everything I wanted, like Hulk Instant Muscles, but I generally only wanted one thing. That particular year, the "one thing" was a Big Wheel. The only problem was that my parents couldn't afford one.

No problem, I thought. I'd pray for one.

So after I'd been praying for a Big Wheel, my dad was out getting the word out about my mom's new preschool, and he found someone's discarded little Big Wheel (toddler size) that he thought maybe he could somehow fix up for me, so he strapped it to the back of his bike and rode on. Sometime later, he was stopped by someone driving a truck. "You want some more of those?" - In the back of his truck (among other things), the guy had parts from Big Wheels and he was on his way to the dump with them.

When my dad got finished with the parts, he had enough, not only for a Big Wheel for me, but also one each for my brother and sister!

(and since we were at Grandma's house, where there was no sidewalk, I got to ride it inside)

My fifth birthday was big time. I remember it and God's provision whenever things seem scarce.

2011-07-19T09:19:00.000-05:00

Run For the Rose 5K

I already wrote up a race report, but I wanted to include some pictures.

Getting Ready to Race

The starting line is always a tricky place - finding a spot that corresponds with your pace can be tricky. I've found that in smaller races, the best place to be is right behind the high school boys cross country teams. In this race, the xc runners weren't out, meaning the best starting place was right up front. You can see me in the middle, stretching out my back, getting ready to race.

The race is on!

My high school coach told me that the first 400 is a freebie: adrenaline will carry you that long. I use the first 400 to break out from the pack - so did a couple of young kids. After that point, the first several runners had already broken away from the others.

After the first mile, I led for a few meters, but the eventual winner passed me and never looked back. You can see the lead he built up and never relinquished as he hits the finish line -I am still rounding the corner behind him.

Coming Down to the Wire

They tell you "don't stop your watch right at the finish line or you'll get a goofy finish picture." I'd rather have a goofy finish picture and an accurate timing than a great finish picture and forget to stop my watch.

First, second, and third place overall!

2011-06-13T14:30:00.002-05:00

Run for the Rose 5K

One Friday when we had barely moved to Millersport, I saw a sign advertising the first running of a 5K race in Lancaster, Ohio - slated for the very next day. I made it out for the run and finished in 21:31. I promised a recap and pictures, but I guess things were a little busy, as we were in the process of moving...

I ran the race again in 2009, but last year I had to miss it (I hadn't returned from Annual Conference yet). This year we came home early so the boys could play in their baseball game, so I was available to run. Saturday morning I woke up to a solid rain. I was second-guessing my decision to run (but not much, because I hadn't yet paid the registration fee). As race time approached, the rain slowed down, and finally, as I headed to Lancaster, the rain stopped altogether.

I registered easily for the race (premierraces does a good job with this) - the only "glitch" was that they didn't have change for me ($25 for walk-up registration) - so they only charged me $20 (which was the cost for advance registration). I was looking around for familiar faces, but I didn't see many. I did see one runner friend, but she was working the registration, and I saw a pastor friend, but he was volunteering for the event.

This race is put on by the local MRDD bureau at a special needs' school called Forest Rose (thus the "rose" theme). One neat thing about this race is the focus on special needs kids. One young man sang the National Anthem, and he did a nice job. There were several parents, running with their special needs' children in jogging strollers as well. The organizers also had plenty of activities for the children.

After a warm-up, I approached the start line and looked around for competition. I am usually "in the gap" in these local 5K races; I'm not fast enough to be an "elite" runner, but I'm well ahead of the pack. Often running pretty much alone. But in this race, the elites weren't there. I asked a young guy (Corey) what his target time was, and he answered 19:30, depending on the competition. I told him that is around my race PR, and I figured I had found my competition.

When the "gun" went off, Corey and I went out fast - only two young boys were in front of us (but we passed them shortly). I ducked in behind Corey, letting him take the wind (it wasn't too windy - but it was breezy enough that it made a difference to draft off him). A third runner tucked in behind me, and the three of us blew out at a pretty quick pace. In fact, at the first mile, the girl there called out 5:25 (turns out she was wrong by 30 seconds).

The first mile was straight south along a road, and just before the halfway point, the path turned. I took this opportunity to pass Corey, meaning I was in the lead. I hadn't had this experience since I was in junior high. I began to have thoughts of winning - it was now a possibility. Dick and I looped around a middle school parking lot, and I snuck a glance back - to see nobody. Corey had dropped off, and the next runner (John) was well behind him.

Dick took this chance to pass me and to open up a lead over me. I let him go, not exactly having what he did at that moment. I counted him 12 seconds ahead at the 2 mile mark, and while I gained a little ground on him over the rest of the race, I knew I didn't have it to catch him. Meanwhile, I knew I was safe in second place.

Immediately before the finish line is a loop (one of those agonizing moments if you don't know the course; it looks like you're heading straight for the end, but you have to take a loop - up a hill! - and back down to finish. I cruised this part and finished with a time of 19:44. They gave roses to everyone as finisher prizes.

I was honestly disappointed in my time - Dick and Corey and I all agreed that the third mile was a bit long (I mapped it out and it seemed to be about .1 long). Still, 2nd place overall was a big surprise for me - I was extremely psyched about it!

Here are the overall race results.

They didn't do anything for age groups, but as one of the overall winners, I got a nice plaque and a cash prize as well!

2011-05-19T09:58:00.000-05:00

To BQ or not to BQ

That is the question. When I first ran a marathon, my goal was to finish. I had no real thoughts about time, which was good, because my last several miles were reduced to a shuffle, but bad because after my bio break at the halfway point, I picked up my pace to a way-too-fast speed to catch back up with my friends (and had I had a pace in mind, I would have stuck with the pace instead). I ran 4:26. When I ran my second marathon, I wanted to beat my time, and I ran 4:18 but suffered from dehydration.

Two years later, I was back in the saddle, having trained much harder and faster (and weighing 20# less), and I was very confident going in to the marathon. I set two goals: a stretch goal of 3:34 and a "reasonable" goal of 3:40. I had friends telling me that this could be the race I BQ'ed (BQ stands for "Boston Qualifier" and instead of saying "I qualified for the Boston Marathon," marathon runners will say "I BQ'ed.") - but my BQ time, as a 39 year old male, was 3:15. Way out of reach.

Turning 40 will give me a possible shot. 3:20 is much more manageable than 3:15. Except that the BAA is changing the standard, cutting five minutes off my qualifying time. Meaning that as I change age groups, I won't gain the additional time. That means if I can keep my current pace, I can BQ in 16 years. That is, if I can get in. Though the times are set, faster runners will get a head start on registering, and only if there are enough spaces can someone who just barely qualifies get in.

For 3:20, I would need to run a 7:38 pace, a pace which, a year ago, I would have said was impossible. The way I've been running lately, however, especially the Cap City half marathon, which I ran in 7:15 pace, that kind of pace could be doable. But I don't have much time to make that happen.

I don't think I'd probably actually go to Boston and run the marathon (though it would be quite the experience). But it would be cool to say I BQ'ed.

2011-05-09T09:53:00.000-05:00

Cap City Half Marathon Race Report

In 2009 I ran my first half marathon. Many people do this in a different order; by the time I ran the Kentucky Derby Festival 1/2, I had already run a 40k trail race and two full marathons. (I remember having to answer the "is this your first 1/2?" question in the affirmative, and I always felt like I had to justify myself with a "but I have run a full..."

I love the 13.1 distance. 26.2 requires a lot more time training; those 20 milers really take a lot of time. When I was training for the Columbus Marathon, I put in back-to-back months of 190+ miles, and that eats a lot of time. Plus the recovery time for running a half is nothing like for a full. And there is no wall in a half marathon.

So on to the report for the race. I met my friend Rob at his house so we could drive out together. We found parking easily (and in a place where we could get out easily after the race) and waited for our friend, Blaine (since I had picked up Blaine and Rob's bibs, it was important that we met up).

I was hoping to meet up with some fellow dailymilers, but I didn't get there in time, so I slid into corral "A" and prepared for the race. I love the corral system; it's broken down by race time (for Cap City, they just asked what time you planned to finish in, while in the Columbus Marathon, they actually asked for some sort of "qualifying time"). Corral A was the first corral; it included the elite runners. It was funny that none of the rest of us wanted to be up at the starting line; we all left a big space for the elites. Everyone was asking each other for goal times and then seeding ourselves based on those times.

After some banter from the stage and the introductions of some celebrities (including Columbus native Buster Douglas and Mayor Mike Coleman), we were "encouraged" to move forward. Some guy who I think I was supposed to have heard of played a meandering rendition of the National Anthem on the saxophone, and we were underway.

My race plan was to go out for the first 10K at a 7:30/mile pace and then turn loose for the second half. I thought this might be a little fast, but it seemed like a safe plan. After all, if 7:30 was too fast, I could just maintain it for the second half. As we started, I really struggled to maintain 7:30. I couldn't get that slow.

The first mile marker came and I was in the low 6 minute range. But thanks to my Garmin, I knew that the mile marker was misplaced (I had it at .88), meaning I was almost 30 seconds faster than my goal pace. This is a great thing about the corral system; you don't have to fight your way through a lot of slower runners in order to get to your pace. The difficult thing is being surrounded by fast runners makes me want to run fast.

In the second mile, I was regretting not stopping again for a second potty break before the race. I really had to go. Shortly before the 2 mile mark was a bank of port-o-johns, which I used. Usually I stop my timer for bio breaks, but not in a race! The clock keeps ticking. So my second mile was a little slower (based on my break and on the fact that the mile marker was at the right place, meaning my "mile 2" was really 1.13 miles), but still under my goal pace.

Miles 3-4 were in 7:22 pace, and mile 5 was in 7:16. Miles 6 and 7 were in 7:31 and 7:30, and then I picked it up a bit. Miles 8,9, and 10-11 were in 7:03, 7:04, and 7:10 pace. Mile 12 was a struggle with the only real hill on the course. I ran it in 7:30, and I was wondering if I had enough gas to finish strong. I picked off several runners going up the hill, but this was a long, straight, lonely stretch of the race. But in the 13th mile, I reminded myself how short the rest of the race was and I managed my first sub-7 pace (6:59). The final .1 was a sprint at 6:07 pace.

I really enjoyed this race. The course was fast and scenic. It was extremely well-organized, and the weather was perfect (low 50s at the start, sunny, no wind). Some people came up with really creative signs (I liked the "we'll give you free tattoos for your medals... shhh, don't tell Tressel!" one) and it's always encouraging to see the "Run Fast, Mommy!" or the "Way to go, Daddy!" signs that families are holding for their loved ones. I also loved the fact that they put our names on our bibs; it's really encouraging to hear people calling your name (I wish I'd asked them to put "Rev. Run" on mine).

What I didn't expect was how lonely the course would be at times. I was running ahead of my friends, so I didn't have them to hang out with, and I'm a pretty chatty runner (hey, I can't help it), but most of the runners around me were wearing headphones. I kind of wish I'd worn mine. The musical entertainment was a bit lacking; they were hyping it pretty much as a 13.1 mile concert, but about half of these were DJs (mostly playing pretty decent music - I liked the one playing Run DMC), but the acoustic-guitar-playing easy-listening music wasn't all that motivating. Don't stop thinkin' about tomorrow? really? Brown-eyed girl? more suitable for sitting in the grass with a cold drink than digging in for a hard second half. I did like the rapper, though, and a couple of the bands (the one playing "Ring of Fire" ala Social Distortion rocked my face off).

The water stations were well done and the finish line food was awesome. Panera? Pizza? That was awesome! I didn't "get" the bubbly (yes, they were serving little plastic goblets of champagne at the finish - no, I didn't drink one; it was just a half.). The medals are high quality as well.

I ended up 29th in my age group (out of 360) and 242nd (out of nearly 6000) overall with a time of 1:36, 16 minutes faster than I ran my first (and only other) official half marathon, and 8 minutes faster than I'd run in training.

2011-04-14T20:27:00.000-05:00

Seeing Jesus

Today the weather was perfect, and I worked through lunch so I could get out and enjoy it. I decided to go for a run on the canal trail to Hebron, planning on a 10 miler. When I got to the 5 mile mark, I had already decided to push it to a half marathon, meaning I'd go through Hebron (to the end of the sidewalk) and turn around. As I was coming around the corner into town, I passed a woman walking, pushing a wheelchair. I thought it was a stroller first, but then I realized it was a wheelchair, and in it was a boy, probably a young teenager (at oldest). I passed them by, but they made me think...

...after I'd hit the turn-around, I saw them again, still heading in the same direction. But they turned down a side street and I kept running. Except I needed to talk to them. So I stopped my stopwatch and ran after them. I first spoke to the woman, thanking her for taking care of someone with special needs. I don't know if she was his mother or just a caretaker, but for some reason, it touched me how she was walking with him in the beautiful weather. I told her that when I saw her caring for him, I saw Jesus working through her.

Then I turned to him and greeted him and introduced myself and made a comment about the weather, and his face was radiant. His smile was ear-to-ear, and his eyes lit up. And when I looked into them, I was looking into Jesus' eyes.

I know why I ran when I did. And I know why I stretched it into a half marathon. It was because I was supposed to. God wanted me to do it, so I would see His Son.

2011-04-14T11:07:00.000-05:00

Living it

On Wednesday morning, I met my pastor friend Rob for an early morning run in one of our nearby parks. We meet there somewhat frequently (every few weeks now that he has moved out my direction and is somewhat settled now), and we run fast and spend a bit of time talking about what's going on.

I don't usually see other runners (or many walkers, for that matter) where I generally run, but when I do, I always greet them. So we do the same when we're running on the path, even when it means saying "Hi" to the same person multiple times.

Wednesday after we finished running, we were stretching a little before we left, and a guy went by us toward the path. We greeted him and continued stretching. Not long after, we saw him returning to the parking area. He came over to us and asked us, "Are you guys believers in the Lord Jesus Christ?"

That kicked off a cool conversation and we were all able to encourage one another and ended up praying together, but we asked him how he knew we were believers. He said that he had seen us on the path before and the way we always greeted people made an impact. There was just something about us...

The way we go about our normal day-to-day activities is important. The way we treat total strangers, the way we participate in our hobbies, the way we behave wherever we go... it all reflects who we are and Whose we are. Everyone can make an impact for Christ by living for Him.

2011-04-05T11:47:00.000-05:00

March Madness Running Challenge

I have always been competitive when I run. Even when I was just running around Nicholasville with Nathan and my dog, we would generally end up faster, trying to "beat" one another to an imaginary finish line. I usually run alone, but whenever I see someone off ahead of me, I (consciously or not) speed up the pace, hoping to catch them. But even when I'm running by myself, I push myself to run faster. Those "slow" runs on a training schedule can be difficult!

I love to challenge myself to run faster, so when I saw that dailymile was holding a March Madness Running Challenge, I jumped at the chance. This is how the challenge worked: for the first round, anyone could join (they had separate challenges for men and women). The challenge was to run the most distance in a week. There are some real workhorses on dailymile, and I just barely managed to eke my way into the top 32 and into the second round (especially as I had just run a half marathon distance the day before the challenge posted).

The second round was a speed challenge; the 16 fastest 5K times would advance. I ran a 5K... about 30 seconds slower than I wanted to. I might have advanced with my time of 20 minutes, but I wasn't sure, and I sure wasn't happy with my time. So after a rest day, I tried again... and ran my fastest 5K yet: 19:00! (I ran a little long, so I actually broke 19 for the first time since high school!).

That was good enough to make it to the Sweet Sixteen, another distance challenge. I cruised my way into the Elite Eight, averaging 8 miles/day for the three day challenge, and it was on to another speed challenge, this time at the 10K distance.

I have never run a 10K race before, but I have been running pretty well lately, so I was originally planning to run toward a goal of 44 minutes. Except I went faster. Quite a bit faster. And due to a Garmin that went a little wacky, I ran a little far, and still broke my goal time by 2 minutes. Until I realized that I'd run far - so I did the calculations and realized that my adjusted time was 39 minutes! I was so psyched! I made it to the Final Four.

But that was where I was going to bow out (as gracefully as possible), as this two-day distance challenge saw my 16 miles eclipsed by two guys who had monster weekends (54 and 34 miles!)

It was a really fun competition, and it hit that competitive nerve that gets me going.

I know that not everyone who reads my blog is a runner - nor should they be - and the point of me talking about running isn't to shame anyone into running or to call anyone out or anything of the sort (I write about running because I enjoy running). The point of this blog is that there was something that drove me to work hard to do something I didn't think I could do. Is there something that you have wanted to try that maybe you just need some extra motivation?

2011-03-17T21:04:00.000-05:00

Vacation

Vacation: use it or lose it. When life is as busy as ours is, it can be hard to schedule vacation time. My vacation year goes from July 1 to June 30, and if you've been following my life, you know that our July through the beginning of November and mid-December through January were characterized by foster children, and we're not really supposed to take foster children out of state. There are some who suggest a "stay-cation" but that's really impossible for us; a small town pastor is rarely not "on call."

So February came and we were looking at our schedule, and we realized that Jonathan will be playing soccer in April-May, and Andrew is going to play t-ball in May-June, and I don't particularly like to take vacation during Lent (though I worked with a senior pastor who took Holy Week as a vacation week). That left us with a few weeks in which to squeeze vacation... then we had to decide to go somewhere warm or cold.

Since we had been somewhere cold all winter, we decided on warm. Then Tara found a good deal on a cruise. We had never been on a cruise, so I was a little nervous about it. Would we get seasick? Would we get claustrophobic, stuck on a ship (or stuck in a tiny stateroom)? Would the kids enjoy it?

We headed down toward Miami, taking a couple of days' detour in Kentucky at the grandparents' house (and catching up with a friend for a tough trail run). Then we hit the road, and on the way, we were treated to an unexpected surprise... driving down I95 toward Miami, we started noticing tons of traffic at every intersection. We realized they were all out to watch the Space Shuttle launch. As we continued along the intersection, we kept our eye out... and got to see the launch! It was unbelievable. I never thought I would actually see one in person.

Some highlights from the cruise itself: I had seen all sorts of pictures of the Caribbean, but it was amazing to actually see how clear and blue the water was. It was amazing. I loved snorkeling; I wondered if I would like it; would I see fish? (answer: yes! yes!) The fish were all colors, shapes, and sizes. Imagine going to a store that specializes in tropical fish, but instead of having the fish in separate aquariums, they are all just swimming free through the coral, and you can swim with them and enjoy looking at them.

We seriously loved Antigua; our driver pointed in the direction of the Methodist Church there (I wondered what it would take to get appointed there). We loved the smaller islands - we had a great walk around St. Kitts that we enjoyed a lot. The weather was fantastic - while Ohio was getting yet another snowstorm, we were suffering through 80* and sunny.

On the return trip to Miami, we were making pizzas with the boys (as part of the kids' programming, which the boys loved). I was looking out the window, thinking I might see some marine wildlife (every wave "might" have been something), and off in the (not-so-far) distance I saw something... it could have been a fin or a tail or a wave. But then I saw a spray and I knew it had to be a whale. Then it blew again. By this time, I'd called everyone over, and then it started to show off. It was a humpback whale, and it jumped clear out of the water a couple of times! It sure looked like it was having fun!

It was a fantastic vacation - very relaxing, very fun, and nice and warm, and we got back in time for Lent!

2011-02-15T08:10:00.000-05:00

17:18

Sometimes the best things you take home from a conference come from the conference bookstore. When I was in Minnesota for the Powerful Life of the Praying Pastor conference, they gave us coupons for their bookstore, which I happily used. As I browsed through the available books, I found some unusual journals. I've been using my journal to walk through the Bible, chapter by chapter, but these journals are a little different.

They are called 17:18, taken from Deuteronomy 17:18 - which is talking about rules for the king of Israel.

When he takes the throne of his kingdom, he is to write for himself on a scroll a copy of this law, taken from that of the Levitical priests.

So the journal is laid out like this: on the right page, there is space for me to re-write the scripture, verse by verse. On the left page is space for notes. There are a few leading questions, but not many. It's mostly just blank.

Though the Deuteronomy instructions were meant for the king, I think they are good instructions for any Christian. Writing the scriptures out is a good exercise for retention and understanding. I just started my first journal yesterday (in Colossians, the book my Bible study is going through), and I'm looking forward to continuing it!

*Disclaimer: I bought these journals with my continuing education money. Though I got a $5 off coupon from the conference, the 17:18 makers didn't give me anything for this review. It was just a product I felt drawn to and have been enjoying.

2011-02-07T20:29:00.000-05:00

Foster Thoughts

I have to start with a confession. When we started foster parenting, I really thought every Christian should do it. After all, the Bible tells us to take care of widows and orphans, and there are plenty of orphans who need homes, and I heard other preachers say things like "if one member of every church in America just took in one orphan, the problem would be erased" and I (pretty judgmentally) thought every Christian should do it.

No more.

I still think every Christian needs to be about caring for orphans and widows (otherwise, please go ahead and tear James 1:27 out of your Bibles and/or admit that you don't consider the Bible authoritative), but I don't think everyone is called to be a foster parent.

The county offers good training, but it falls painfully short of what is actually needed training for what happens when you open your home to a child. In fact, it doesn't prepare you for the hardest parts: what happens when the county lies to you again and again? What happens when a child is damaged far beyond his young years simply because he was left in a toxic situation (or returned to a toxic situation from a foster home)? What happens when a child knows much more than he or she should? How do you guard your heart against the moment when the county moves the baby you daily commuted to and from the hospital to visit, stayed up with at night, changed countless diapers, and fell in love with? How do you know what services are available to foster parents when nobody seems to know (and none of the services are linked, and none of them communicate with one another - and communication within the agency is terrible as well)? And the realization that the foster parent has no say in the most basic of decisions (a foster parent is not even allowed to give a foster child a haircut without agency approval - so when there's a life-or-death surgery, you'd better have an emergency phone number handy - they're probably not going to have one on their answering machine).

This isn't to say that we're done foster parenting. Quite the contrary. Because Jesus calls his followers to deny ourselves, and that pretty much defines parenthood (I don't care if you're a birth parent, an adoptive parent, or a foster parent; parenting is all about self-denial) and if you haven't learned humility, foster parenting is a quick study on it. I feel for the county agency, always strapped for money, and for the caseworkers, daily forced to make difficult decisions, never having full information, and having unbelievable caseloads.

If you are called to be a foster parent, get as much education as possible, and get in there and love some kids. If you're not called to it, don't. But that's no excuse - find out some way to care for orphans and widows. They need it, and God calls it true religion that God loves.

2011-02-01T22:13:00.000-05:00

Minneapolis

This town is really cool. No, though the temperatures are really cold, that wasn't what I was talking about. I'm talking about how well this city does at snow removal. Not only did I see plows on the streets and those brush-things that drive up and down, brushing the snow off the sidewalks, but there were entire crews hand-shoveling sidewalks. They even went so far as to clear off the running/biking path along the Mississippi River.

I thought I was crazy to be out for a run in the temperatures we are having here, but I found that I wasn't the only one. I saw several runners out (more in the snow Monday evening than in the frigid, though sunny, noon-day Tuesday), braving the weather for a run. Though I can understand why; the alternative is the dreadmill for half the year. And there were plenty of bicyclists who brave the weather year-round. But I never had to be outside if I didn't want to. The hotel is connected to the convention center via walkway. There is a pool and a pretty nice-sized fitness room in the hotel and there are multiple eateries in the hotel and the convention center (though you end up paying for the convenience).

But if you do go out, bus stops are lighted and heated. And they come complete with signs telling you when to expect your bus. And the trail along the Mississippi River seems to go on forever. This is one cool town.

2011-01-24T10:08:00.000-05:00

The Fun of Being a Preacher

There are times when preaching is hard. Sermon preparation isn't always easy; sometimes a message just falls together, but most times, preparation is long and difficult. Prayer (it's hard waiting long enough to listen to God - that's why prayer has to to come first... and second... and third...), Bible study (you wouldn't believe how many things from my personal Bible study seem to apply 100% to what I'm going to preach), research (commentaries, other authors, etc) all go into sermon preparation. Then I shape the message, cutting material, re-organizing (over and over again), reading through it to make sure it's cohesive, and preparing a powerpoint presentation to go along with the message.

But there are just some things that one can't prepare for.

For example, this week during the message, I realized that a scripture I was going to read contained the word "hate."

We don't use that word in our house.

And my kids know it. And they know that rule well enough to correct other adults.

I approached the scripture, realizing that I was going to have to do something, because my kids were sitting in the front row. And they listen. And the scripture (John 15:18-21) contained the word "hate" multiple times.

I started reading the scripture, and I watched Andrew's eyes get big. "We don't say 'hate'!" he exclaimed. So I stopped and explained to him that he's right, we don't say "hate" but this was a case where it was in the Bible because Jesus knew how much people would dislike him. I was ready to give myself a "great dad/preacher" pat on the back, but then Andrew piped up in the kind of voice that only a preschooler would use during a church service.

"We don't say "stupid""

I continued in the message, somewhat embarrassed, trying to just go on with my thought. But Andrew wasn't finished yet.

"We don't say poopiehead!"

Yes, he managed to include all of his "bad words" in front of the whole 9:00 church service. At this, I couldn't contain the laugh. I busted out laughing and said, "I love being a dad." Everyone who heard him was laughing, too. He loved it. I did, too. Yes, it was distracting. No, he doesn't do that every week. Yes, Tara quieted him down quickly and I continued with the message.

The kid is definitely my son, isn't he?

2011-01-03T09:58:00.000-05:00

Reflecting Back on 2010

I honestly haven't talked to anyone who told me that they would miss 2010. Many of my friends really struggled over the course of the year and all of them were ready to turn the page from 2010 to the new possibilities of 2011. I find myself optimistically joining them, all the while remembering that while we only get to celebrate a new year once a year, God's mercies are new every morning.

Reflecting back on the year that was, I have to acknowledge some highlights. During Lent, I undertook a challenge to read the entire Bible. I had read the whole Bible in a year, but this was time I was reading it in forty days! It was challenging, but it was absolutely worth it. I read, I listened to it on my iPod. I was always in the scriptures, reading around thirty chapters every day. There were times I struggled through (and I found that I paid better attention to some genres by listening to them, while others were better read). I most enjoyed the connection of reading the Bible in its entirety - how many Old Testament references had I never gotten or understood when reading the New Testament (because I hadn't just read them)? This was one of the best challenges I have done.

Following this wonderful challenge was the best vacation my family has ever taken. After Easter, we took off for Florida for a three week vacation (I blogged about the trip here, here, and here). It was great to relax (we had no agenda and the only time we even paid attention to the time was on Sundays when we wanted to make it to church). I was a little worried how life would be for the kids without toys and how life would be for all of us sharing a tent... and it was great. We came back recharged and rejuvenated.

The Summer of 2010 was unlike any summer we have experienced. Just before the 4th of July, we brought two foster sons into our house. They stayed four months, and it was difficult. God tells His people to seek out the least and the lost, to care for the orphan and the widow, which sounds all well and good, but in practice it is difficult. Especially when the orphan has been abused and neglected. It was great to see some fantastic members of our church step up and help take care of them, to invite them to sit with them on Sunday mornings, to pray with us and for us, even coming to our house and praying against the generational curses that plagued these little boys. We were glad to see them come a long, long way in those four months. They've still got a long way to go, and their new foster parents (which will hopefully be their adoptive parents) need your prayers as well.

This August marked my 20 year high school reunion. In one way it doesn't seem like it has been 20 years since I graduated high school, but in another way, it was completely another world ago. I didn't recognize more people than I did recognize (why did all those old people come to my reunion anyway). I was glad I went, but the next time I'd probably rather call up the friends I went to school with and have an informal get-together instead of going to a bar.

After my last marathon I had decided I was content to have run two - I would focus on shorter distances. I had enjoyed running 5K races and half marathons, tossing in some long runs, but not having any desire to run more. But this summer, largely because of the motivation I received from my new friends on Dailymile, I got the bug again. In October I ran the Columbus Marathon, smashing my old personal record by 38 minutes! I even ended up having my picture being the main picture on the Columbus marathon website!

After the two boys left our home and our family went back to a family of four, we decided we needed another break together. We took (most of) a week and went to Tennessee. We stayed in a fantastic cabin up in the mountains (with a really scary driveway, which I mastered after three days). The cabin had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a really cool spiral stairway, and an outdoor hot tub! We loved hiking (our boys made it all the way up to the top of the Chimney Tops despite the ice and snow). Gatlinburg had a fantastic Christmas parade, and the trip was amazing.

December came, and with it came our new foster baby. But unlike all of the other foster kids we've had, when we've only had an hour to prepare our house for them, he's in the NICU and didn't make it home in 2010 (so he'll probably make my "highlights of 2011" blog).

In many ways it was a challenging year, but God is good and His mercies are new every morning!

2010-12-29T17:29:00.000-05:00

The Waiting Game

Anyone who has had a baby in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) knows the waiting game. The first question is always "when can I take my baby home?" It seems pretty common for "them" to tell a parent of a preemie "we want to keep him until his due date" so the waiting game begins.

Not only do we get to wait, but we get to drive back and forth to the hospital. And get to know the wonderful, compassionate nurses who work in the NICU. And the check-out folks in the cafeteria.

Then they give some good news: when the baby gets to (insert milestone here), we'll start the release procedure. A good thing to remember when you hear this is that this doesn't mean the baby gets to go home whenever he reaches that milestone; that's just when the procedure begins, after which the baby goes home.

The procedure includes them showing the parents a video about shaken baby syndrome (lesson learned: don't ever, ever, ever shake a baby. it's not even funny to joke about). We get re-trained in CPR (all the rules are different these days). They make sure Peanut will fit in the car seat (and if he won't, they issue a new one - that's right, issue. That means they give us one).

Then the doctor has to check him out one more time and he can go home after the paperwork is done. Which might take longer than thought, as (in our case) paperwork has to be done by the caseworker as well. And if the baby has had any other issues, those can hold up the release, triggering... more waiting...

The good news is that Peanut's nasal feeding tube is out and he's gaining weight. The bad news is he had an "episode" last night - nothing to be alarmed at, but they want to make sure that he's out of the woods.

This is all the long, roundabout way of saying that our little guy isn't home yet; maybe tomorrow?

2010-12-29T16:07:00.000-05:00

How Far I've Come

Today I would call this "overdressing"

A few years ago, I trained for a spring race, and I mostly trained indoors at the YMCA. One Saturday I managed to miss the (shortened) hours, and I needed to get a 4 miler in, so I bundled up and went outside for a run.

I wore my wind pants, warmest shirt, vest, hat, and gloves and went out for a run. The weather was rather nasty; snow spitting and accumulating a little. The funny thing was I was so proud of myself for running in that weather that I took a picture after the run.

A few years later (and after a full winter of training outside), here are my thoughts. First, I'm embarrassed at how warmly I dressed for this run. I would never wear those wind pants anymore for a run; they're way too hot. Likewise for the shirt and the vest; that particular shirt is only good for extremely cold temperatures. I would wear it if the temperature was under 20* and windy.

Today I would definitely run in that weather without a doubt. And if the weather was too bad, I would just not worry about it; it was only four miles, after all. I can't believe that a four miler gave me any pause whatsoever; it's less than any workout I'm even willing to suit up for!

2010-12-23T08:34:00.000-05:00

Whatever You Do For the Least of These...

It started with someone getting a little crazy. There was a sale, and they thought, "We should get some of this for the food pantry." They got a lot. Too much to even put away. And some hams and potatoes and bread. So the question arose: How do we get all this food out before it goes bad?

You see, our food pantry has operated as an "emergency" pantry, serving mostly drop-in clients, and we've had a quarterly limit - you can only come once every three months. But if we waited that long, this food would have gone bad. So our church secretary made some calls, and a cell group stepped up and offered to staff the pantry for a special night.

Several families said they didn't know where they would get food for their Christmas dinner, that they were praying that God would provide food for them, and then they got a call from the church, inviting them to come. And they did. The cell group reported that 60 people came that evening and were given food. Lots of it. And several others came the next day as well.

It was amazing to watch God provide the miracle that these people had prayed for - through the actions of some who thought "an emergency food pantry isn't enough" and who thought "I could pick up some of this for the food pantry" and a cell group who decided to change their meeting to give the food out and a secretary who gets to know the food pantry clients (and prays with each of them) and who generously called each one and invited them to come and take food, without charge.

Sometimes I tend to get cynical about people. But then there are people like these who embody Christlikeness.

2010-12-17T15:51:00.000-05:00

Could This Be the One?

Or... Wait and See

Even before we were married, Tara and I talked about adoption. Our eventual wish was to adopt children. After a lot of prayer and conversations, we determined that we would attempt to adopt domestically, rather than overseas (note that this was what we felt like we needed to do; we don't have anything against those who adopt from overseas), so we went through our county training to be foster/adoptive parents. Our adoption of Andrew was a private adoption (we hadn't necessarily planned that, but it was how God worked it out). Through all of it, we only once got a call to foster (and it was a placement that wasn't right for us).

August 2009 we got the call to be foster parents for Baby J. We thought this placement would lead to adoption, but the information we got wasn't the full story, and his birth parents did everything they could to get him back. We got a great opportunity to give him a good start, and though we were sad to have to "give him back" (and we still miss him) we were fine with it. The system worked like it was supposed to. Especially for Baby J's parents.

Then in June 2010, we got another call, this time to foster (and hopefully adopt?) Jesse & Nathan. The agency already had permanent custody of them and they were looking for a forever family. After having them for a while, we realized that we couldn't give them the on-going care they needed, all the while, giving our other kids the level of support and concern they need. The other thing was that their ages were too close to our other kids' ages, and poor Andrew often got the worst of the whole deal. We got to pass their care on to another couple who now is able to give them the attention they need, and we continue to pray for them (parents as well as the kids).

After that placement, we revised the age limits of children we would accept. We decided we needed a solid break from toddlers, but we would take a baby. So when another call came in (only a week after we'd cleaned house), asking if we'd take a baby and a 3 year old, we declined. But when we got a call this week, asking if we'd take a tiny baby boy, we agreed.

So last night we got to go to the hospital and meet Baby JT. He was born on December 3, probably about 1 1/2 months premature. He's a little under 4 pounds, and it was love at first sight. He is a precious little peanut, as cute as can be.

We understand how the system works; we know that we may or may not get to keep him (keep him? we can't even take him home from the NICU yet! - they're saying probably not until after Christmas), but we're going to get to love him as long as we have him.

Which is the deal we've made with God on our kids in general. We don't consider any of them "ours" to keep; they're God's, and we just get to "borrow" them from Him for a while - as long as He lets us.

2010-12-13T10:20:00.000-05:00

Power Outage!

Have you ever had a power outage? What a reminder of how much we rely on electricity! Yesterday, just into our 11:00 church service, the power flickered several times and then went out. That meant no microphones, no projector, no PowerPoint, no amplification for guitars (or the electronic drum set). I realized that we rely a lot on electricity!

For example, as a congregation, we don't necessarily have all of the praise songs memorized. We don't necessarily have to worry about memorizing, because they lyrics are on the screen. Except for when there isn't electricity to power the projector.

But honestly, besides not getting to audio-record my sermon, it wasn't a problem. Sure, it changed things; the band did an acoustic set (including using the "box" instead of drum set, unplugging guitars, violin accompaniment (good thing Tara had her violin there after playing special music during the 9:00 service), and different songs from the hymnal), and I had to speak a little louder than usual, but even without electricity, the atmosphere was electric.

One unexpected bonus was that Rudy "asked" everyone to move forward - conserving heat, voices carrying, etc., and that made for a closer experience, a "together" experience, if you will. I came down off the platform to speak, because there was better lighting down on the floor, and that worked out well, too.

All in all, it was a great time of worship, and a little power outage didn't dampen the Spirit at all.

2010-12-03T22:19:00.000-05:00

Christmas Parade

Millersport puts on a nice Christmas parade, but wow, Gatlinburg's Christmas parade was something else. We headed down the mountain around 3:30 and found somewhere to park (we found a really good spot, it turned out, as we were able to buzz straight out after the parade). Then we walked up and down the "downtown" Gatlinburg area for a while, checked out a fun craft show (indoor), and staked out "our spot." We found that many people set their chairs out the night before to stake their claim for parade-watching, but we (a) didn't have chairs; and (b) we didn't have chairs. But we did have a blanket, and Tara found us a great spot by a trash can and a light post. "Great" because it was a spot by the road and because we had something to lean on and because the odor from the garbage can was drifting the other way. AND because the people next to us had two little boys, aged 7 and 5, with whom Jonathan and Andrew had a blast before the parade.

The parade itself was a lot of fun. Not much candy, but I did manage to get hit on the head by a bag of M&Ms (when I was changing batteries on the camera) :-) The temperature dropped while we were out there, but we dressed warmly - in many, many layers, and we bought hand warmers.

Pictures will follow...

2010-12-03T15:40:00.000-05:00

Just What the Doctor Ordered

After a long several months with four kids and quite a bit of personal stress, our family got to take a vacation. We found a cabin in the mountains near Gatlinburg, TN, and rented it for a week of family time. It was wonderful. The Christmas lights are up and beautiful, and the Great Smoky Mountains are as fantastic as ever.

I remember going to the Smoky Mountains as a kid - it was a lot of fun. My parents even gave in to our persistence and allowed us to go (throw our money away at) a roadside attraction (where we met a girl whose southern accent baffled us - we were only familiar with the Kokomo accent - you know, the one where "wash" gains an r and short e sounds identical to short i). I remember seeing a bear... or perhaps thinking I saw a bear and then being too embarrassed when it wasn't really a bear that I stuck to my guns and held to the story...

I have always loved being in the Smoky Mountains. It has always captured my imagination.

So it was great allowing our kids to explore and play in the mountains. Seeing them walk on the trail, playing together, bonding with one another, running, chasing, exploring - was well worth the trip.

2010-11-15T20:35:00.000-05:00

Latest Adventure

I didn't post much about our most recent adventure in foster parenting because I didn't think it would be prudent; first of all, the birth family could read about the boys or see their picture and figure out where they were, and secondly, because it was tough going (and I didn't end up blogging much during those four months partially because of that). It was tough having four boys, age 6 and under, especially with what J&N had suffered through before they came to our house.

I learned a lot about myself, about others, about spiritual warfare, and about the "system" in the process.

About myself... in Brother Lawrence's The Practice of the Presence of God, he expresses surprise not in the fact that humans can be so horrendously evil, but in the fact that we're often not. During the last four months, I came to understand how (often foster) parents can do horrible things. Not that I ever condone doing evil to a child (or anyone else), but I began to understand how someone could. But there were many times when I was stretched way too thin. I was glad to have my "out" - running - where I could get away and reorient myself toward God.

I already knew that there are people who understand "different" kids and people who don't, but I didn't know how much that would show up. There were some people who I frankly didn't know very well who stepped up tremendously to help out with the boys, especially during church. Church was a difficult time, because for a while the nursery was not staffed during the early service, (and since both boys have attachment issues, we felt that it was important to keep them with us)... so the boys were in worship... not a big deal, as we always keep our other two in that service... except that J&N had never experienced church before. Or positive discipline. Or sitting still. And so they screamed through the first few services. Some people just got annoyed and complained.

But there were several others who stepped up and helped. Tremendously. They were awesome.

I learned more about spiritual warfare than I ever thought possible, and I'm still learning. These boys were victims of generational curses - something they never chose for themselves. Their parents, grandparents - who knows how many generations - were filled with the evil they had inherited and they had chosen. When J&N first came into our house, they were saturated with those curses. They were tortured little boys. Happily, and thanks to a lot of prayer, when they left our house, though they still have issues, they were no longer the same tortured little boys.

I was reminded of the system, which doesn't necessarily exist to do the best thing; it sometimes exists to do the cheap thing or the expedient thing. This isn't a slam on the case workers; I've found that the social workers are one of two things: they are either so jaded and cynical that you wonder why they're still in it; or they're idealistic people who want to help... and they're buried alive with too many cases for one person to adequately handle. Unfortunately it ends up that lies, misinformation, and lack of communication are the order of the day.

I understand that God calls His people to care for orphans and widows, but with my experience (and the experience I've watched others go through), it does take a special calling to be a foster parent. It's definitely not for everyone. If God is calling you to do it, then do it with gusto. But if God is not calling you to it (and be sure to discern the difference; don't just say God isn't if you haven't taken time to listen), then find other ways to care for the orphan and widow in your community.

2010-11-01T17:15:00.000-05:00

Remembering

A year and a half ago, I got word that my friend Chad Max Miller and his brother Chris had died in a kayak accident. His death remains a solid reminder of the brevity of life, of the words from James: You are a mist that appears for a little while then vanishes.

I know James' intent was to remind his listeners that life is short, that we can't count on tomorrow. But I wonder if that mist really vanishes? That might be one of our greatest fears - the fear of being forgotten, of leaving no legacy. And certainly it's something that those of us left here struggle with; does anyone remember our loved one? Do they still tell the stories?

I remember Chad every day. In fact, it's still hard to believe he's gone. As I remember him, what sticks out is his character. Well, besides the anecdotes I could tell about funny shared events and good times we had. I remember how generous he was and how authentic he was. He didn't do things because they looked good; he did things because they were good. He was a hard worker because it was right to work hard. He played hard because it was fun to play hard. He helped people because they needed help.

It makes me think about my own life and mortality and the legacy I will leave. When I went to my high school reunion, there were all kinds of people I didn't remember and I wondered why they remembered me. What had I done that merited remembering?

Sometimes I find that motivating. But I'm usually just walking, one step at a time, as if life weren't a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

2010-10-19T19:35:00.001-05:00

After the Columbus Marathon: Some Thoughts Two Days Later

I loved the corral system. It was so helpful to not have to dig my way through walkers and slow runners - just to hit my pace immediately upon starting the race. I've never experienced that in a marathon before.

The in-course entertainment was quite varied - it was hard to get hyped up for someone playing Van Morrison on an acoustic guitar, but I was pretty impressed (very impressed, even) at some of the bands playing. It was 7:30, 7:45am on a SUNDAY, and they were bringing it. Especially that funk group on Broad Street. Amazing.

One thing that made the marathon special for me was having friends there. I had a great time running with Matt Schreiber - we ran together twice in 2006: the Hocking Hills Indian Run 40K and the Columbus Marathon. I've kept up with him via facebook and dailymile, but I hadn't seen him in ages. Of course, Matt's brother Mike and Speedy Rob Turner were miles ahead of us.

And then there was the dailymile crowd. I have been so encouraged and motivated by being a part of a running "club" even though most of the interaction is online. It was super cool to meet up for a Run DMC (DailyMile Columbus) pasta party the night before the race, to put faces with names and to meet some really fast runners and some first-time marathoners. Then meeting up with the gang before the race was great. It took away some of the before-race anxiety.

Then there was the cool picture that ended up on the marathon website - you might be able to tell how strong I felt and how happy I was at the time the picture was taken. It was probably between miles 14 and 15 - I was feeling strong; I'd just run a PR for the 1/2 marathon, and things looked good.

About the race...
I have got to learn to take off more slowly. I knew better. Honestly, I did. I set a target time of 8:12 miles. But I took off too fast - partly because it felt good and partly because I thought that maybe I could run faster than my goal time. My stretch goal time, at that. There's really just one word to describe that way of thinking: not smart. I trained toward a certain goal, and to second-guess that goal while running (in the first 20 miles) wasn't a smart move at all. Adjusting a goal (faster) during the last 6 miles... maybe. Not so much during the first 1/2.

I felt like I remembered runners being friendlier on the course than I experienced Sunday. Yes, I ended up meeting a couple of people (Chris, originally from Zanesville and Tracy, the teacher from Gahanna), but I remembered runners being more chatty and more encouraging. In fact, I don't remember as much encouragement - not from the sidelines, nor from other runners. During the race, besides Matt, with whom I was running for many of the first miles, I only saw one familiar face, my dailymile friend, Brett L.

I didn't realize that the course had changed, so once we passed the 1/2, I was lost. I lost all frame of reference, which stunk. Upper Arlington, Grandview Heights... it was all the same. People out watching, not necessarily cheering, low-key music... I was wishing I'd worn my iPod so I could listen to some hard-charging music.

At this point I was doing everything I could to keep going, so maybe it wouldn't have made a difference to have had the streets packed with friends and family cheering my name. Or maybe it would have.

As I approached the finish line, I tried to speed up. I don't think I was successful. In fact, I'll bet my last couple of miles were stronger in 2006, when I ran a 4:26. It sure felt like it. I couldn't even psych myself into the "only 4 more miles to go" thoughts. I was trying to compare the distance left to one of my easy runs here in Millersport, but it didn't work. Yes, I did catch one person down the stretch. And I did hold off all challengers on the way down the hill to the finish line. But that was all I had.

After the race, I wandered around, looking for one of those space-blanket thingies. I was freezing, but I couldn't find them. And I couldn't find anyone to show me where they might be. The only "official" people I could find were the photographers, one of whom snapped a horrible picture of me, one in which I look halfway dead, and the girl with the chocolate milk. I never thought I'd like chocolate milk post-race, but it hit the spot.

I also couldn't find the Krispy-Kremes. I heard rumors they were giving them out, but either they'd run out, or I just couldn't find them. Maybe they were with the space blankets. At least there was still other food, not like I felt hungry at the time. One of my friends reported that it was gone by the time he finished.

There was a band playing Green Day tunes really loudly on a stage. They sounded pretty good - but too loud for me at that moment. But all I wanted was to sit down and rest my legs. Then we headed home. Rob dropped me off at my car, and it took all my concentration to make it home. I was cold, so I didn't want to put my windows down, but I smelled so bad, I couldn't stand to be in the closed up car!

When I got home, I was wondering what kind of fool runs marathons.

But two days later, I'm thinking about my race strategy and how I can convince myself to run more slowly so I possibly have more in the tank for miles 21-26.2

2010-10-17T20:03:00.000-05:00

Columbus Marathon Race Report, take 2.

Back in October, 2006, I ran my first marathon, the Columbus Marathon. My goal was to finish, which I did (barely?) after a couple of costly mistakes and a lot of walking toward the end. The next April, I ran the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon in Louisville (again, with a goal of finishing), after which I swore I was done with marathoning. But this spring, due mostly to dailymile, I got the bug again.

So I returned to the site of my first-ever marathon. This time, instead of "just" finishing the marathon, I set a time goal. Actually I set two goals. My first goal was a "stretch" goal - to finish in 3:34. My secondary goal was 3:40. That might not mean anything to you without this information: my personal record (PR) for the marathon was 4:17:59. Meaning I wasn't just aiming to beat my PR; I was aiming to smash it.

The morning started beautifully; not too cold, actually really nice for a run. This year they instituted a corral system, based on qualifying, where the faster runners started toward the front, which was excellent. Instead of walking for a block and a half to the start line and then trying to pick my way through gobs of slow traffic, I was able to start close to the start line and immediately run.

I was happy to run with my friend Matt (pictured in the "I ran my first marathon" pictures linked above, wearing the maroon sweatshirt) for many of the early miles, but unfortunately I felt too good and went out way too fast. My target time was 8:12/mile, but I found myself in the high 7's. Which would have been fine for a 1/2 marathon, but not for the full.

I left Matt and started running with his friend, Chris, who I met on the course, but eventually Chris dropped off (maybe he was doing the 1/2?) so I ran for a while with a teacher from Gahanna (my former stomping grounds). My pace started dropping around the 1/2 way point, but now they were in my realistic range. I stayed that way until around somewhere in the 18 mile range, where I started to fade. My times started to suffer, and got worse as the race went on.

I continued to think the 3:34 was within range until the 3:30 pace group caught me and quickly left me in the dust. By this time, my pace had slowed to a 10 minute mile crawl. My calves and hamstrings were screaming and it was all I could do to keep from walking. My mind was playing games by this time, and I wasn't going to let it do the "just walk through the water stop" game - because I didn't know if I'd start running again!

As I closed in on the finish, I wondered if I would ever reach the end of the race. I missed a mile marker in there, so it seemed like I was on mile 23 forever! I kept being passed (possibly by runners who had run a smarter race and not gone out 30 seconds/mile faster than their target) - my race results indicated that after mile 20, I passed 34 runners... but was passed by 134.

I shuffled across the finish line in 3:40.09, right on my "secondary" goal time - a PR by 38 minutes!

2010-10-11T10:10:00.000-05:00

Throwing a Taper Tantrum

Through the past 16 weeks, I have been in marathon training mode. That meant pushing my distance up - I put in four twenty mile runs (along with my almost-daily nines). Not only have I put in the distance, but I've ramped up the pace as well. But as the marathon approaches, I have moved into taper mode. And I'm not sure my body knows what to do with it!

I'm not the only one who has ended up dealing with knee issues. I'm hoping that it's nothing, but just to be safe, I visited my chiropractor (and will be back on Friday) for an adjustment. But I'm trying to figure out how to deal with the taper. I didn't run today, and tomorrow's plan is 3 slow miles - mileage which my cross-country coach called "hardly worth getting your gear on."

My training has been good - I feel better prepared for this run than I have ever been - though the 7:30 start time is closer to my usual finish time for my training. I am looking forward to meeting some of the Run Dailymile Columbus runners for some pasta and for the race. And I am looking forward to getting on the race course and seeing how well I do! In the meantime, I'm throwing a bit of a taper tantrum.

Top 25

2010-10-05T07:37:00.001-05:00

I wonder what the top 25 most played songs on my iPod say about me...

Here they are:
25: Rain in the Summertime: the Alarm
24: Hot for Teacher: Van Halen
23: Beautiful Scandalous Night: Robbie Seay Band
22: Blitzkrieg Bop: the Ramones
21: Hungry: Kathryn Scott

20: Under the Milky Way: the Church
19: How Great Thou Art: Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir
18: Can't Go Back: Robbie Seay Band
17: Eternal One: Robbie Seay Band
16: (don't go back to) Rockville: R.E.M.

15: Unfailing Love: Chris Tomlin/Steven Curtis Chapman
14: Soon and Very Soon: Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir
13: Be Glad: Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir
12: Ring of Fire: Social Distortion
11: Love Wins: Robbie Seay Band

10: Head On: the Jesus and Mary Chain
9: Darklands: the Jesus and Mary Chain
8: Rainbow in the Dark: Dio
7: The Hallelujah Chorus: Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir
6: Lick it Up: Kiss

5: Pretty in Pink: the Psychedelic Furs
4: Been Caught Stealing: Jane's Addiction
3: Bring on the Dancing Horses: Echo and the Bunnymen
2: Take the Skinheads Bowling: Camper van Beethoven
1: Living After Midnight: Judas Priest

2010-09-24T10:27:00.000-05:00

Why Do I Run?

I love my running time. I love starting my day before dawn, seeing the light of the sun shining like Prevenient Grace, coming well before the sun rises. I love the pound of my feet on the ground, especially when I get to run on a trail. I love the quiet time with God. I love starting my day with Him.

That's why I run. What do you love to do?

2010-09-15T12:26:00.000-05:00

Better Than Winning My Age Group

I think I've won my age group twice. I really only remember once. It was in a winter 5K cross country race (not the road race I'd been expecting). For winning, I got a really cool blue blown glass Christmas ornament as a prize. It still has the little paper tag to tell me that it was for first place in my age group - not that I need the reminder.

The reminder that there were two of us in the age group, and the other guy had possibly never run a 5K before.

Anyway, I almost won my age group at the Sweet Corn Festival 5K. I would have won it had I run it. Let me explain: I did run it. Twice that morning. I went out early and ran the course as fast as I could, and finished in (my PR) 19:27. Which, as I look at the results, would have gotten me first in my age group.

But I didn't run it that fast with everyone else. Instead, I ran it with my son, Jonathan. You'll need to go to the second-to-last page to find our finishing time, but believe me when I say that running the race with my 6 year old son, who ran or walked the entire 3.1 miles without stopping, was better than winning my age group. For an age group win, I would have gotten a medal, which would have found a home in a drawer. Running with Jonathan gives me a fantastic memory that will last a lifetime.

2010-09-14T08:21:00.000-05:00

Hard

God never told us life would be easy. In fact, Jesus said, "In this world you will have trouble." (John 16:33b) But The LORD is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in him. (Nahum 1:7). This is why Jesus went on (in John 16:33) to say "But take heart! I have overcome the world."

Life is hard. But God is good.

2010-09-02T12:15:00.000-05:00

Serving Others

Back in January, in a sermon, I referenced a story Mike Yaconelli told in his book Dangerous Wonder. In this book, he told this story.

Our town is small by California standards – one traffic light and six thousand residents. One Sunday morning I was preaching about the unconditional love of God, a love that was outside the lines and resulted in the church loving outside the lines. Our church is different from most; the congregation feels free to interrupt me during my sermons. Just as I was finishing, a sixteen year old girl said, “This is a good sermon, Pastor, but I was thinking that if we are supposed to love outside the lines, then I know how we can do it. In three weeks the Siskiyou County Fair is coming, and with the fair come the ‘carnies.’” (The “carnies are itinerant workers who operate the rides of the traveling carnival. Every year the carnies are the talk of our rural town. Most of them are tough-looking and scary with lots of tattoos, huge muscles, and hard-looking faces. People always make derogatory comments about them.)

The high school girl continued, “I was thinking that instead of making fun of the carnies, maybe we should have a dinner and welcome them to town.”

The church agreed, and this young girl organized the entire event. She called the manager of the fair for permission, called the owner of the carnival to see if they would want a dinner. The carnival owner suggested a lunch just before the fair opened. “Okay,” said the girl, “We will barbeque hamburgers and cheeseburgers and have salads, desserts, and soft drinks. All you can eat. How many can we expect?” After some thought, the owner said to expect fifty.

The day of the lunch about twenty people from the church showed up to help serve. There was enough food for seventy. At twelve-thirty when the lunch was to begin, only four carnies showed up. By one-thirty, however we hadn’t served 50 carnies, or 75 carnies, or even 150 carnies. We had served 200 carnies. When it looked like we would run out of food, the young girl came running up to me, the pastor , and said, “We’re running out of food. GET SOME!” We did.

When the lunch was over, numerous carnies came up to the young girl and thanked her. One older lady who had been working carnivals for a long time said, “I have been doing carnivals for forty years, and this is the first time I’ve been welcomed to town.” The all-you-can-eat carnie lunch has been going for seven years now, all because a teenage girl was naïve enough to believe God loved a group of carnies as much as He loved her. (Mike Yaconelli: Dangerous Wonder, NavPress. 1998.)

Some members of the congregation heard this story and it stuck with them. The gears began turning, and they decided, "Hey, we have a festival here in Millersport... and they employ people to work the concessions and rides... we could have a meal for them, too!"

So today was the day when we served them... and it was fantastic! We served lasagna, bread, salad, cake, and ice cream, and it was great. I got to greet them and say a blessing - we welcomed them to town and thanked them for serving us, because we love our Sweet Corn Festival, and without the rides and concessions it just wouldn't be the same.

I found out a lot about the people who worked the rides. Several of them were from Turkey, Ukraine, and Russia - they were university students who came here to work for the summer before going back to school. The entire group wasn't your stereotypical "carnies" - they were clean, appreciative, and no more tattooed than the rest of society. And they really appreciated the welcome they got to Millersport from the church.

Best yet: everyone who served was extremely excited to serve and wants to make it an annual event.

2010-09-01T10:33:00.000-05:00

Running With the Boy

Ever since I can remember, I wanted to run. My family would drive past the local middle school and would dream about running on the cinder track there - but I never actually asked my parents, "Could we stop so I could run on that track?" It wasn't until I was actually in middle school that I got to run there... and I loved it.

A couple of years ago, my oldest son, Jonathan, decided he wanted to run a 5K with daddy. So we worked it out this way: I ran the race at my pace and then came back and caught up with Jonathan and Tara (who was also pushing barely-2-year-old Andrew in a stroller). Jonathan had run at a sprint to start, but he needed some motivation... and having Dad there helped him. We were the last ones to finish, but if you ask Jonathan, he'll tell you, "I ran a 5K... and I won!" Maybe he was remembering going up with me for my age group award.

Last year it just didn't work for the family to run the race (with Baby J less than 1 month old), which was disappointing, as the "under 11" age group was wide open.

This year, Jonathan wants to run the race again. And we've been preparing. He knows the strategy: don't run too fast, and if you need to walk, just go ahead and walk, but keep going. I told him I would bring water so he can have a drink whenever he wants one. We've been out on training runs together, and he's excited about the race. Last week we went on our bikes to see the race course - and although he's only been riding a two-wheeler for a week or two, he was up for the whole thing. And more.

We'll see how things go on Saturday.

2010-08-24T15:41:00.002-05:00

Top Five Encouraging Things to Say to a Runner

I wrote a blog about things that aren't encouraging that people say all the time to runners (I forgot some classics, like "how many miles is this marathon?" or "you're almost there" when you're not even halfway). But I thought it might be nice to include some things that actually are encouraging.

5. Great job! Sometimes we don't feel like it was such a great run. Sometimes we're sore and tired and the heat and humidity (or cold, depending on the season) has gotten to us. But it sure helps to hear someone tell us "good job."

4. Have you lost weight? Who doesn't like to hear that? Many runners are running away from that fat person they somehow became, and it's really encouraging when someone else notices.

3. Fantastic time! When someone who knows running compliments you on your pace, your workout time, or your race time, it means a lot. Whether it's a Boston Marathon Qualifying time or you ran the entire 5K course for the first time ever, it means a lot when someone says something positive about your time. Yes, there's always someone faster (unless you're the world champion), but most of us aren't racing against that guy. We're racing the clock and ourselves.

2. (Insert smart coaching here). Most of us are learning as we go along; it's great when someone tells us something that will help us run better, faster, farther, or easier. Last year I had a goal of beating 20 minutes for the 5K. Someone (or multiple someones) told me I needed to add speedwork to my routine (duh!). When I did, my time started dropping - not just for the 5K, but everywhere. Other times the smart coaching is "listen to your body" - especially when dealing with injury or illness. Or "don't be rigid" in your training. etc. Good coaching from a more-experienced runner is encouraging.

1. You can do it! There are times when we think we can't. It's great to hear someone remind us that we can. This goes for a beginner who is running his first race or a proven champion who is trying to run her personal best. There are times when a run seems too far or too fast - it's great to have someone cheer us on.

What would you add to this list?

2010-08-24T13:18:00.000-05:00

Top Five Non-Encouraging Things to Say to a Runner

There are all kinds of people, some who run, others who don't. One thing I've found is that it's easy to encourage fellow runners... but sometimes what we think is clever and encouraging, well, isn't. So I'm compiling a list of the not-so-encouraging things that I've heard while running.

5. HONK!!!! Yes, I know you want to get my attention as you drive by in your car. You got it. And now my shorts are a mess. Thanks a lot.

4. You're just going to tear up your knees. Hey, I'd rather tear up my knees by running than by carrying an extra 40 pounds everywhere (which I was a few years ago).

3. Well, oh, yeah? I ran that in... If we're comparing PRs, we're allowed to share fastest times. If you're blogging a race report, that's great - include PRs, especially if you just hit one (or were close to it). Even if it's amazingly fast... or not so much. But if your PR came 25 years ago and 100,000 beers ago, don't bother sharing it. Especially if you haven't run since then. Oneupmanship is ridiculous.

2. Run, Forrest, Run! You may think you're clever saying this. You may think that you're the first one to think this up. You may think it's the first time I've heard it. You aren't, and you aren't, and it isn't.

1. Run Faster! Unless you're my coach, which you aren't, then you probably have no idea how fast I'm supposed to be running. Sometimes I run fast. Other times I'm running a recovery run and it's supposed to be a slower pace. Other times I'm going as fast as I can. It doesn't encourage me when you yell "run faster" at me.

What else would you include?

2010-08-22T19:09:00.000-05:00

Encouragement

This morning I preached on encouragement. And I gave an assignment: to encourage someone every day this week. I didn't leave it for people to "only" encourage one person; I encouraged them to encourage multiple people. The cool thing is I saw it start immediately. Not only did I see people talking to one another, encouraging one another, but I heard it. I had several people say something encouraging to me, including a really great message left on my answering machine.

Here's the thing: this past week I had some really un-encouraging moments where I got wind of some complaints and gossip. I had already committed to developing this "Life Together" sermon series and to this sermon in particular, but I was really discouraged. I thought about blasting a couple shots across the church (verbally, of course), but then I realized that I would be letting two people bring down the entire service (because who really likes to be blasted at by the pastor? I sure don't. When I hear pastors ranting and raving, even if I agree with their point of view, I'm pretty likely to just shut down). I'm glad I didn't blast off. God has some work to do with us, and I believe it starts with us doing life together the way He meant. The "one another" verses in scripture are a good start.

2010-08-13T13:49:00.000-05:00

Final Reunion Thoughts

Sunday morning came early after a late (for me) night Saturday - after spending 6 hours on my feet at the reunion, it was time to run. Literally. My training plan had me scheduled for 20 miles on the weekend, so I mapped out a route from Kokomo High School through Highland Park - it was a 2.5 mile course, so I figured I'd run it out-and-back 4 times. It worked out well; I could keep Gatorade and Gu Chomps in the car and also hit the water fountains in the park. An added bonus: I'd get to run through my old neighborhood as well as the park where I spent much of my formative years.

You wouldn't believe how many memories flooded back as I ran back and forth. Though there have been changes since I was there, much was still the same. I saw the various trees I spent time in. I especially enjoyed seeing the other runners in the park (I counted 16 - including one guy who was running 9 miles who I saw multiple times). As I finished running, there was an older guy on a bike going the same direction. He had to have thought I was extremely strange (at best) as I sprinted to "beat" him to my "finish line."

I cleaned up, had breakfast (prepared by Suzanne Carey), and headed for church. I had decided to go to Chapel Hill Christian Church's 10:30 service, which was really good timing - I was able to get cleaned up, eat breakfast, and get to church on time. There, the coolest thing happened: as I went into the church, the first person I saw was my old friend Darrell. I had been e-mailing with Darrell and was bummed that he wasn't going to be at our reunion (family vacation took priority) - so I was super excited to see him. It was great to get a chance to worship with him, to have him take me on the "tour" of the building (they've built a new sanctuary since I was there - and renovated most of the old), and to go out for lunch together after church. We laughed so hard at all the old stories - most of which hadn't been told in years. I hadn't seen Darrell or his wife since they made their way to Chicago for my wedding, over 13 years ago...

This was probably my highlight of the weekend - getting to hang out with an old friend for as long as we wanted, talking, laughing, sharing. And I hope to not wait 20 years to do it again.

2010-08-13T13:29:00.000-05:00

Reunion Thoughts, Part 4: Friday & Saturday

Though the focal point of the reunion was the reunion itself, there was a whole lot more to the weekend than just the major events. The first part was having dinner at my sister's and getting to hang out with my nephews. A highlight of that visit was sitting with Mark (who is almost 6), telling him stories of things his mom and I had done when we were little. I had never gotten to have that kind of quality time with Mark (he's much more interested in playing with Jonathan than listening to Uncle Brian tell stories).

When I got to Kokomo, I stayed at David Carey's house. David became my best friend approximately the first time I met him. Actually we talked once on the soccer field when we were in 5th grade, but on the first day of 6th grade, we were instant best friends. He wasn't able to make it to the reunion, but I stayed at his house anyway - his mom has always been my "second mom" to the extent that she (like my real mom) cries when I leave. It was good to hang out with her a little bit (even if her dog doesn't like me), and it made things convenient for the reunion.

On Saturday morning, I went out to Converse, IN for the 5K run (I'm going with my watch time instead of theirs; it took me several seconds to actually get started with the disorganized start) - but I already blogged about that here. A highlight of the run was hanging out with some friends, but I thought "if I'm already in Converse, I ought to drop by Rainbow Christian Camp, where I went to church camp every year." I pulled through, and I guess I was a little too spooked by all the old ghosts I'd left there, so I didn't get out of my car. I thought the "old" section (which was the "only" section when I was there) was a little shabby - overgrown bushes and so forth - I don't know how much they use the old dining hall. I was disappointed that the old Coke machine was gone. Not surprised, as it was the kind that held glass bottles, but I remember it being a rite of passage into highschoolhood to be allowed to use the Coke machine.

On the way home, I stopped by Macedonia Christian Church, where I grew up. I hadn't been there in over 20 years, and I was happy to find a door open (a women's group was meeting) so I could go in and explore. I found the old puppet stage we used for years back in the day, and I got to go through the "new" section (where the "old, old building" used to be. It was also good to see some of our dear family friends.

Then on the way back to Kokomo, I had a chance encounter with the husband of one of my favorite teachers (actually I never had her class; she was our cheerleading sponsor) at a garage sale in Greentown. After lunch I went to Northwest Park to see a friend (whose husband was playing in a softball tournament). It was a really relaxed way to hang out and remember... plus it was fun to meet her kids. And as a bonus, I ran into my second cousin and his family when I was there!!!

Reunion Thoughts, part 3, the Actual Reunion

2010-08-12T09:37:00.001-05:00

On Saturday evening, we had the "actual" reunion function. It was held at the Booster Club of Kokomo, a general reception hall. They had food and drinks available (I stuck to the lemonade, which was very tasty - you can never be too sure what the lemonade will taste like. Church lemonade is often on the, well, Crystal Lite side).

Someone came up with the clever idea to have our senior pictures on our nametags. I say "clever" because there were plenty of people who had changed significantly enough that I needed some extra help remembering who they were. So at least I could look and see what they used to look like (and possibly jog my memory as to who they were).

The biggest disappointment about Saturday evening is who *wasn't* there. When you've got a class of 500, there will be some no-shows. Some couldn't attend because they had other obligations, other couldn't afford to make the trip, and others just didn't want to go (for various reasons, good or bad). But seeing all of their nametags there was kind of sad. And then there were the ones who had died since 1990. Though I had been friends with several of our deceased classmates, it was saddest to see Joe Kratzer's picture on that board. He had been a good friend, and I know he would have had a good time there.

I mostly spent my time talking, sharing the same story multiple times with multiple people. Sometimes I forgot who knew that we had foster kids. The music was (at times) too loud for good conversation (I got over that "shout over the music" attitude when I was in college), but the DJ played lots of good 80s/early 90s music, and I enjoyed that.

I did end up having some really meaningful conversations that I never expected to have, and that was a highlight of my evening. The entire weekend was worth it just for those moments.

2010-08-10T10:22:00.000-05:00

Reunion Thoughts, part 2, in which I ran a 5K race

After a late Friday night, I got up early in the morning to head out to Converse, Indiana, for a 5K race. I had decided it would be fun to run a local race and invite fellow classmates to join me. Three of them actually took me up on the offer, and it was great to see Matt and Holly and Nancy (and to meet Nancy's husband, John).

The race itself was the most disorganized race I've ever run in. To be fair, it was also the cheapest race, so perhaps some of the disorganization came from the fact that "you get what you pay for." I had preregistered, but they didn't have my race packet. They were nice about it and gave me a bib and found me a t-shirt (though they'd run out of the blue ones that they were giving out and gave me a choice of a left-over white or orange one). The race was sponsored by an insurance company, and they have four races yearly, so I think they save cost by just printing up one (generic) shirt for all of them. No big deal.

I got a chance to talk to my friends and also saw my old cross country coach. Now, to appreciate this, you have to know that we had a "falling out" at the beginning of my sophomore year. I was playing soccer (had been named captain of the team) and was running cross country. Having earned my varsity letter as a freshman, I had committed to the cross country team as my first priority (even over soccer, which was only a club sport at the time), but because I missed practices to go to church camp, I wasn't eligible for the first meet, and so I went to a soccer game instead and the coach didn't like that and called my house and shouted at my sister. So I quit the team. Anyway, I found him and talked to him, and it was really good. I had long since forgiven him, but it was great to talk as peers. I remembered when I was in 8th grade and he came to me and encouraged me to run in high school, telling me I'd make a good high school cross country runner - I told him that was important to me. He still remembered and remarked, "yeah, you were a good runner. You were really fast in middle school." I was impressed that he didn't remember me as the trouble-maker who quit the team but as the really fast middle school runner. It was a good conversation, and I was glad to connect with him in that way.

So just before 8:00, the scheduled start time we all moved up the street to the start area and found my place just behind those really fast guys who you can tell right away by their 0% body fat and racing flats and sprint-out warm-ups. I waited and stretched a little and waited some more.

... and waited... and waited...

Then I went back and talked to my friends for a while. Then some race organizers came and told us to move back behind the line (I guess we were in front of it; there wasn't really a "line" - just the idea of one, I guess). So we moved back and as we were milling around, there was a whistle and the runners in front started.

There was no introduction or thank you. There was no "runners set", and no race directions. There was just a whistle. And I found myself behind some slow people. So after dodging between several and almost stepping on another, I jumped out onto the grass and sprinted around to get a better start.

I didn't have any complaints about the race course; though I didn't know exactly where it was going, it was a simple course. There was one surprise - that we went through the fairgrounds and around alongside the track, where some horses were practicing (I remembered the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon, where we went through Churchill Downs - just a slightly bigger scale). I didn't mind the smell (I run through farms all the time), but the dust cloud was a little less than ideal.

The course was minimally marked, but that's no complaint; it was marked as well as it needed to be. There were signs marking every turn and the mile markers were clear (and they had someone at each marker calling out times). My first mile was a little fast: 5:56(!), but my second mile was more where I wanted to run (6:27), and my third mile was 6:35 (with a last .1 in :38).

At times it felt hard to maintain competitveness, as the elite runners were all out ahead and there was a huge gap (in which I found myself) between them and the next group. But I finished in 19:38, 3 seconds off my PR (set this week last year). I was happy with that, and with 4th place in my age group (18th overall).

It is always fun to run local 5K races, and it was nice to see some old friends there.

Reunion Thoughts, part 1

2010-08-10T09:26:00.001-05:00

This weekend I went to my 20th high school reunion. I had been back in town a couple of times since then, but hadn't seen many people since I left, so I was excited to go back. On Friday night, I spent most of my time talking to two people.

The first was Richard, who I used to run with in middle school and high school. He doesn't run much anymore, but he looks like he could jump out and start right back where he left off. I hadn't seen Richard since graduation, and though it was good to see him, it was tough, as he's going through a rough time.

I also talked to Tony, who I *have* seen since graduation, and we did plenty of laughing.

Some random thoughts on the Friday night mixer:

*I'm not into the bar scene. I was rather surprised at how many people were smoking (and living in Ohio, I'd forgotten that some places still allow smoking in public buildings). Not so pleasant.

*I was surprised at how many people I *didn't* know. There were some people who didn't look any different than they did in high school, but there were others who I didn't recognize at all. Some of my classmates looked old and tired. Some seemed like they've given up on life. Others were drinking to excess, which doesn't necessarily say anything about their daily lives but maybe more about the company.

*People often talk about the cliques and how "those people still don't talk to anyone who wasn't in their clique." It's not that simple & not that black and white. Of course they primarily talk to their "clique" - those are the people they *knew* and the ones they were looking forward to seeing. It's just like me spending my time with Richard and Tony. I wasn't trying to exclude everyone else; I just wanted to catch up with old friends.

*Facebook has been a great facilitator of relationships. I specifically looked for some of my FB "friends" at the reunion (and was disappointed that I didn't get to reconnect with several). It's nowhere near as good as face-to-face communication, but it beats no communication.

Competition

2010-08-03T19:38:00.001-05:00

This morning I was running some speed work on the track. Usually when I run speed work, I like to have loud music blaring in my ears, pushing me faster, but this morning the humidity and (almost) rain forced me to run without tunes. So I was doing what I usually do when I run: praying.

As I prayed, I felt like God was telling me something. Something subtle in that still small voice. Or maybe not. "Shut up" were the exact words. "I want to talk to you for a while."

As I "listened" God "spoke." It was all about competition. One reason I run is because I'm competitive. mostly against myself. And as I ran my 1600m repeats, I was focused on "negative splits" (meaning running each one faster than the other).

The message I got from God was that I've been working hard all my life to prove that I'm good enough. That I fit in. If I can only achieve, then it will prove all that.

God told me that I don't have anything to prove, because it doesn't have anything to do with how well I achieve. I have worth because of who HE is. Because He declares me "good enough" for His love. Because He declares me not just barely good enough, but perfect - made so by the blood of Jesus.

It was a great feeling to be reminded of who I am.

And I ran the last 1600m 5 seconds faster than the first.

Weeding the Church

2010-07-26T10:18:00.001-05:00

This morning I was prayer walking around our church building, and I couldn't help but notice the landscaping. Someone has planted some really lovely annuals along the front path into the building, and they look really nice. There are some huge hostas (perhaps it's time to thin them and share them with people?), and this Spring there was a great group who came in and weeded (they hauled away truckloads - literally truckloads - of weeds).

But as I walked around this morning, I noticed more weeds... some of them were pretty large and others were hiding (like the poison ivy under the hostas). It made me think...

Jesus tells a parable about the weeds and the crops, and the result was that the weeds were left in with the wheat.

There aren't just weeds in the landscaping; there are weeds in the church, too. Sometimes Christians get a bad reputation because some people have been in church all their lives, yet they are weeds. One weed I pulled out of the flower bed was really tall and actually had flowered; it reminded me that some people are really busy doing churchy stuff, but their hearts haven't been transformed by Jesus Christ.

The parable ends with the weeds being thrown into the fire, which is pretty scary and final, but the next parable is about transformation: a mustard plant transformed into a tree...

Which brings up one of the wildest parts of being in the church: even weeds can be transformed.

Lonely

2010-07-23T18:51:00.001-05:00

I've written several times about loneliness, and I've come to a conclusion. We seek out relationships because we're built for them. God made humanity in God's image - which is always a Triune image, not simply a singular image. We were meant for relationship.

Our human relationships fall short of the relationships we were meant for - when Adam and Eve were "naked and unashamed," it was because there was no sin to come between them. But with sin coming between us, all our relationships are screwed up to one extent. Especially our relationship with God.

This is where I believe loneliness comes in. It's a reminder that we were made for more than this. It's a natural longing for heaven and for the relationship we will have one day.

I Love it When...

2010-07-21T08:12:00.001-05:00

I have read a lot about perceptions people have of Christians - especially in the realm of evangelism (sharing our faith) - and some of the unpleasant things that people think of us.

But yesterday something happened to remind me how awesome some Christian people are.

But first a little background. In case you don't know, we are right now parents of four little boys, age 6, (almost) 4, 3 1/2, and 1 1/2. Two are foster sons who have only been in our home for a couple of weeks now.

Also, Tara (my wife) plays with the Lancaster Festival Orchestra this time of year, and last night was the opening rehearsal and welcome picnic (which was being held indoors because the weather looked threatening). I met Tara there with the boys (who were hungry and irritable) and we went in and washed up and put our stuff at a table so we could get in line for the food. When we finally got through the line (each of us "helping" prepare 2 little boys' plates as well as our own), we went to "our" table, only to find a couple sitting there. "No problem - but they're going to have to deal with little boys," I thought. Only they rudely shooed us away, telling us *they* had reserved that table. They were two of the rudest, compassionless jerks I've encountered.

So we're looking for somewhere to sit, seeing that all of the tables are at least partially occupied (without space for 6), we saw her across the room. There was a woman with coppery short hair, motioning to us that there was room at her table. She and her husband had plenty of room for us.

As we sat down and talked to them, we found out that he is the "new" pastor of the Lancaster First UMC (he's been there a year). Fellow Christians.

We weren't surprised. Especially by the hospitality they showed to the family who needed somewhere to sit. I love it when Christians live out (our) convictions!

Runnnig Mechanics

2010-07-20T08:41:00.001-05:00

I've never thought much about the way I run - not since my cross country coach complimented me for how straight I ran. But as I've been running and reading more about running, I've begun thinking about running mechanics.

I'm thinking about it because I want to be a more efficient runner. I don't want to waste energy or to risk injury because of the mechanics of running.

Yesterday I realized I'm a pretty solid heel-striker. I probably could have guessed that because of the heel wear on my shoes (the back outside of the heels is always the first place to show wear). But yesterday, I was taking the baby for a walk, and I didn't bother to put on shoes; we just went. So I'm pushing the stroller, barefooting it, and I realize I heel strike. I've been reading some of the arguments about heel vs. midfoot striking, and I don't think there's a "right" answer. Just observations.

But it's made me think about the mechanics of my running and it's made me wonder: how does one even go about changing one's mechanics?

When the Holy Spirit Shows Up

2010-07-13T08:44:00.001-05:00

I love it when the Holy Spirit shows up in worship. Just this week, He showed up in a really special and unique way, and He "invited" me to ditch the sermon I'd planned and go in a different direction. It was exciting and made me think a lot.

One enticing thought was "wouldn't it be great to do this all the time?" Meaning - if the Holy Spirit wants to speak spontaneously through me, couldn't I spend my time during the week differently? Think of all the time I usually spend studying and writing a sermon that could be freed up to do other things!

But I don't believe for a minute that the Holy Spirit plans to work like that all the time. In fact, the Holy Spirit most often "shows up" through the study time and reflection time and prayer time that I regularly put into the week's sermon.

There are times when people have mentioned to me, "You must have been in our house this week, because you spoke exactly to the situation that's been going on." - whenever that happens, it's because the Holy Spirit has directed me to write that part of the sermon directly to you. (as an aside, every time I've written a point in a sermon directly to one person, that person just never seems to show up that Sunday - or that person shows up and has no idea that I'm talking to them. And that's a good thing, because when I do that, it's by *my own* authority, and really, I don't have any authority on my own; it's God's authority, and I'd prefer to let Him speak)

There are some people who believe that He only shows up spontaneously, but how limiting is that to GOD? Seriously, do you believe God can speak through me on Sunday morning if I throw out my manuscript, but you don't believe He will speak through me if I'm spending my time in prayer, Bible study, and reflection? That's awfully limiting of the God of the Universe!

And our God is not a God of chaos, but a God of order. That's why I take as long as I do preparing a sermon.

I Did It

2010-07-12T21:18:00.001-05:00

I just signed up for this year's Columbus Marathon. Here's to breaking 4 hours...

And Now For Something Completely Different

2010-07-12T12:22:00.001-05:00

I am a manuscript preacher. For a while I flirted with preaching without a manuscript, but that was simply being a memorized manuscript preacher; I wrote my manuscript, compressed it to notes, and put it to memory. As I have been using PowerPoint to go along with my message, I have stuck to the manuscript (mostly to avoid the "go to the next slide" distraction - I have key phrases highlighted so the tech guys know when to do so without me having to tell them to).

So this Sunday I had already preached my prepared sermon once and was ready to preach it again, but something in my spirit told me that it wasn't the right time to preach it for the second service. So I prayed, "God, if you want me to preach something else, you're going to have to give it to me."

People were praying at the altar and the praise band was leading us in singing, "Praise the Lord, O my soul, praise the Lord" and I opened the pew Bible, figuring I'd start looking for whatever it was that God caught my eye with.

I opened to Psalm 146: Praise the Lord. Praise the Lord, O my soul. I will praise the Lord all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live."

If that wasn't a "sign" I don't know what is. So instead of preaching about evangelism and telling the stories that worked well in the first service, I preached straight through Psalm 146.

Though I have decided while writing a sermon that I've written the wrong one (including doing so on Saturday), I have never ditched my sermon on the spot.

And I did something I never recommend; I simply opened my Bible and went with the exact passage I opened to. Usually I get something like "Then he gave an order: 'Cut the living child in two and give half to one and half to the other.'" (1 Kings 3:25) But in this instance, I really felt God leading me to this particular verse for this particular time.

2010-06-29T13:50:00.001-05:00

Running Alone

I am an unapologetic extrovert, and nowhere is it more evident than when I'm running. What I enjoyed most about cross-country and track practice was the camaraderie with my teammates - I'd spend miles just talking with my friends. When I was in middle school, this would describe the meets as well as practices; I made friends with all my closest competitors by talking to them every time we'd race.

If you've run with me as an adult (either of you), you know that I'll spend the whole run talking with you. Yet pretty much 99% of my runs are alone.

Given the choice, I'd run with someone, and it's one reason I love our Annual Conference at Lakeside, Ohio - because I have multiple pastor friends who also run. When I got back into running (as a seminarian), part of running was the accountability of having a running partner (thanks, Nate), and it was due to a runner friend's motivation that I ever ran a marathon.

So why is it that 99% of my runs are alone?

Besides the complaint that none of my runner friends live nearby, the bigger reason I run alone is my desire for flexibility. I like to be able to run whenever I want, wherever I am. For example: if I know that I am going to visit someone in the hospital in Lancaster, might I also take my running gear with me and jump on the Fairfield Heritage Trail which runs right next to the hospital. Or if I'm up in Newark or Granville (or have reason to go up there), I can jump on the TJ Evans Trail for some mileage. Those runs will of course depend on when I get there and how long I take visiting. And I mostly just run from home and like the ability to get up, get dressed, and go run.

How about you, runner friends? Do you run with a group or partner, or do you run alone?

2010-06-21T10:19:00.000-05:00

Joe

Ten years ago, my friend Joe died. I had just gotten back in touch with him after having lost contact with him for several years, but I never got to see him before he died. He and I weren't close friends in high school, though we were good acquaintances, but in college, he was the one guy I could always count on. Since he was still in Kokomo, he was always home when I was (including when all my friends had returned to school in the fall and I was waiting for NU to start the much-later fall quarter), and we hung out all the time.

When Joe got back in touch, he told me he had cancer - he couldn't make it to any of the high school 10th reunion activities because his doctor didn't want him being around all of the potential germs and bugs. I didn't make it either - I was out of town for a wedding that weekend and barely made it in for an informal picnic with some members of the class. I figured I would just see Joe the next time I was in town. I didn't expect that "next time" to be for his funeral.

Now here we are, ten years later, and Saturday night I dreamed about Joe. The dream was rather strange (including a bit where I was running a long distance race that went through a barn filled with angry cows - I turned around and tried to sneak out before the bull saw me), but at the end of the dream I was hanging out with Joe.

Somehow, I think I realized that I was dreaming, because even though he was right in front of me, I realized that Joe was already dead, and I knew that once I woke up, I wouldn't see him again. It was as though I knew I was going to wake up. I knew I had to say my goodbyes. We said goodbye, and shortly thereafter, I woke up.

I frequently remember my dreams, but this one seemed really vivid. And (I should add) though it's said we dream in black and white, I dream in vivid color. And I can still see it in my mind, a full day later.

2010-06-15T13:40:00.001-05:00

It's All Linked

Spiritual malpractice is offering Jesus as the healer but not offering the safe places, spaces, people, and processes for people to heal. - Jorge Acevado

This quote caught my attention at Annual Conference last week. Not necessarily for its shock value (spiritual malpractice anyone!?!), and not even for the truth of the statement or the obvious ramifications of the statement if it is indeed true - but for the bigger truth that his statement uncovers.

It's all linked.

Many of us have tried to segment our lives into personal/private and public - this is where such things as Facebook privacy/security (or lack thereof) come into play; we want to be able to post pictures of our kids for grandma and grandpa to see, but we don't want them in the hands of our local registered sex offenders (or the unregistered ones!). Or we've tried to segment our "religious" lives from our "secular" lives (separation of church and workplace?).And often the church does this as well, separating faith and good works. We often focus exclusively on evangelism (sharing Jesus) or on feeding the hungry... I suppose the extreme case would be the evangelist who says "I will pray for you" when someone asks for food (on one side) or the person who is feeding the hungry who, when asked for prayer, refuses to invoke the name of Jesus, lest he offends.

The Wesleyan model of "doing church" included a healthy balance of personal piety and social action. John Wesley said you couldn't have one without the other.

This is all a reminder that it's all linked. I have been thinking of it in terms of running. When I run, I experience God. Why? Partly because I am pushing my body to be better, to be more like what it was made to be. After my first "long" race, I was on my way to get cleaned up (in the campground) and had a chance to cheer on some runners. I ended up in conversation with another runner (who had also already finished) and I made some offhand comment about our bodies not being designed to run this far and she immediately said, "Yes they are; otherwise we wouldn't be able to do it."

Good point. There are all sorts of things we were made to do, and they're all linked.

I made a comment in my previous post about eating better when I run. I have never gone on a diet (well, I made a real concerted effort to eat healthy when I was on the wrestling team in high school, but I couldn't lose any weight, and then when I "blew" my diet by binging on pizza, I weighed in 1/2 pound lighter the next day), but when I'm in training, I do find myself looking for healthy alternatives to some of my favorite junk foods.

And, of course, that affects my running.

Because it's all linked. Spiritual is linked to physical is linked to emotional is linked to intellectual. if we are screwed up in one area (which most (all?) of us are), it's going to adversely affect other areas. But on the other hand, if we get healthy in one area, it will positively affect other areas as well.

2010-06-14T11:02:00.000-05:00

Running on Purpose

If you aren't a runner, you probably rarely run by accident - unless, that is, you end up late for a train or chased by a fierce animal. But if you are a runner, chances are, you run on purpose.

My purpose for running has changed over the years, and it actually took me a while to figure that out. When I was little, I ran just to run.

Then I went to middle school, and I ended up on the cross country and track teams - all about the competition. I ran to compete. But I didn't necessarily like the races; the best part was the camaraderie with my teammates (and opponents; in middle school I managed to make friends with the top runners from all the other schools, which worked well when we consolidated in 8th grade and high school).

I especially enjoyed our "longer" runs (and can hardly believe that the longest runs we did were 6 milers) and talking and sharing as we ran. I even enjoyed the interval training - I liked being pushed and pushing myself. I thought the purpose of running was competition, and I wondered why anyone who wasn't fast would even try to run. Yes, conceited. Yes, naive. What can I say - I was a teenager.

When I got into college and later, even though I was no longer a competitive runner, I still thought competition was the purpose of running. Even though I wasn't training, I still thought I could run a competitive 5K... I paid the price. And I changed my purpose for running. For several years, I ran *only* to get in shape/keep in shape for soccer. I know plenty of people who only run when there's a ball in front of them.

Then came the 5K races - As an adult I got back into running races, still primarily for the competition. There were always the small town races where I could place in my age group, even with my *OK* times and without much (any?) intentional training.

I began to enjoy those races, mostly because I started to find friends there - mostly friends from other venues (soccer friends, basketball friends, even seminary friends) - so it seems that camaraderie was still a big part of my run.

But as I began training for a marathon, something changed. I began training and running mega miles, and (once I got over the initial horror of seeing those huge numbers on Hal Higdon's marathon training chart) I started to enjoy running simply for the sake of the run.

Sure, I like the side benefits; I like being able to eat whatever I want - though the "whatever I want" actually changes when I run, because I actually want to eat more healthy because it helps me run farther and faster. I love the endorphin rush and the way I feel after a run. I love that I've lost weight and that I'm in better shape for soccer.

But mostly I just like running. I like pushing myself to see if I can do it. When I see a hill in front of me, now it's a challenge: can I run up it? How fast can I run it? (maybe unless it's Steel Hill, pictured to the left, in which case the question is: How soon will I start walking?) Sometimes the challenge is the I won't stop and walk challenge or the How many miles can I get? challenge. I like pushing the pace, trying for negative splits.

I still am competitive - I love seeing my times drop, even when it's just over a mile or an interval workout. My average mile time has dropped significantly, and I like that.

But even beyond the competition, I enjoy running for the time it takes. It's a time to collect my thoughts, to pray, to listen to sermons, to listen to music, to relax (ha!), to put aside a to-do list, to recharge my mental batteries. It's a time to share with friends (when I'm fortunate enough to train with friends). There is a deep connection between the physical and the spiritual, and when I am able to be physically active, I sense the spiritual as well. God is with me when I run.

2010-05-31T08:27:00.000-05:00

My Memorial Day Speech

It surrounds us. It’s everywhere we look. It affects everything we do, everything we watch, all of our actions, everything we say. It affects this gathering today. It certainly affected our gatherings yesterday in church – including those who chose not to attend church. And it affects the various parties we’ve had all weekend. Yet we rarely think about it or even talk about it. In fact, we often bemoan its lack of existence. It’s part of the beauty of it; though it’s everywhere we look in this country, it never forces itself on us.

What is it? It’s freedom. On December 15, 1791, the United States Constitution was amended with this statement: Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances. We are free to practice our religion – or not practice it, if that’s what we choose. We are free to speak our mind, even when it’s not popular and even when our speech goes against the government. We are free to gather together. We are even free to directly petition the government. If we don’t agree with our elected officials, we are free to vote them out of office, and we’ve done that time and again, and we’ve even changed our national leader 42 times peacefully, without incident. We enjoy a freedom that makes us unique and special among all the nations in the world.

Yet we all too infrequently think about our freedom. Did any of you get up this morning, thinking, “I hope I don’t get arrested today for flying my flag” or “I hope the police don’t detain me for gathering in a crowd in a cemetery”? Or yesterday, did you have look-outs posted at the door of your church to warn the people inside if the police were coming? Or when you were complaining about politics and politicians, it’s our very government that protects the freedom you have to complain about them.

We also too often don’t think about the great cost of our freedom. Those who bravely volunteered to go into harms way, to fight for our freedom. Those who paid with their lives. While Memorial Day is a holiday dedicated to celebrating those who have valiantly given their lives to protect us, I also want to recognize some unsung heroes of our country.

I want to recognize the brave family members who stayed home while their loved one was away. The parents who pray every day that their son or daughter will return home safely. I especially appreciate the wives and children who wait for their husbands and dads to come home, and the difficulties they experience when they do return from war. Some of you in this community have experienced this firsthand; that the person who returned from war is a different person from the one who left. He’s seen too much. He’s been traumatized in ways we civilians couldn’t imagine. And instead of a hero’s welcome, he’s shunned. That’s no way to treat someone who went to war so the rest of us didn’t have to. That’s no way to treat someone who fought to protect our freedom. And the way we treat our freedom itself is no way to honor those who fought and died, those parents who lost children, those children who lost parents, those who sacrificed some of their best years to ensure our freedom.

Please make a point of respecting our soldiers and veterans. When you see a uniformed soldier, stop them to thank them for their service. The same goes for our veterans. Even if they never saw combat, they still fought for our freedom. Care for the families of our soldiers, including those who have returned from the battlefield. Keep them in your daily prayers. Send care packages and personal letters to our soldiers, reminding them how much we honor and respect them.

And take your freedom seriously. You might say, “Hey – I am here at a Memorial Day celebration! I decorated my bike! I am dressed like an American flag!” Sure, those are indications that you take this holiday seriously. Those are indications that you love your country and are proud to be an American. And to an extent, I know I’m doing what we preachers refer as “preaching to the choir” because you have made the effort to be here to honor those who have gone before you. But the question is: what do you do with your freedom the rest of the year? When it’s not Memorial Day, how do you use your freedom?

We have the freedom of religion; do you practice your religion to its fullest, or do you just go through the motions? Do you speak out against injustice, evil, and oppression whenever you see them, or do you simply expect someone else to do so? Do you research all of the candidates who run for public office so you can make an informed choice when you go to the polls? Do you even vote?

Use your freedom wisely. That is the best way to honor those who fought for your freedom, who died to give us the freedom we enjoy.

2010-05-27T08:46:00.000-05:00

My Running History, Chapter 8

After someone has completed running a marathon, there are several options. The first, which seems to be the most popular option, is to quit running altogether. They had a goal to run a marathon, and once they do it, they're done. Unfortunately, they often continue to brag about the accomplishment even years later. And if you do train and run one, they'll tell you how awesome they did (usually that they beat you). After running the Columbus Marathon (in which I didn't break any land speed records), I was at a meeting, and someone asked how the marathon was. I gave a (very brief) recap, after which my "boss" asked what my time was. When I told him, he proudly chuckled. "I'm faster." He told me that he had (at some point in his life) calculated a 26.2 mile course and just went out and ran it, faster than I'd plodded the Columbus route, of course. Whether he had done it or not wasn't the question. The question was how many steps he could run at that current time before his poor overworked heart would give out.

The second response to completing one's first marathon is "when am I going to qualify for Boston?" That's the marathon runner who, immediately after finishing the run, begins preparing for the next one (at least mentally, if not physically). I've heard it said that you can't run the next marathon until you've forgotten your last one, but this kind of marathon runner doesn't have to forget - BRING IT ON! is their attitude. They look at their time, make adjustments to training and to their race, and plan for how to do the next one even faster. This is an awesome class of person. If you ask to see their running shrine, they'll often have all their bibs and medals somewhere, but they might also have some hidden because they're ashamed of their time (as if anyone else, looking at the shrine, would know their time).

My response was somewhere between the first and second. I took a few days off for recovery, but I was very soon looking for another race. Not long after, my old running buddy from Kentucky told me he was signing up for the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon - did I want to do it, too? So, at ten-to-midnight on the last night of earlybird registration, I paid my entrance fee. I would be running in Kentucky.

I wasn't out to break records (though I was hoping to break my time from Columbus); I just wanted to enjoy the race with my friend. You can go back and read my post and be the judge as to whether or not I accomplished that goal... I took a long time to "forget" that run (I still can't even think of energy jellybeans without wanting to puke, and the last time I tried to ingest a gel I gagged really hard), but after I did, I still don't have current marathon plans. This isn't to say I stopped running; in fact, I still run as many times every week as I did during marathon training; I just limit my long runs to 12 miles tops.

But I've been running differently. I decided to focus on my 5K runs for a season, and I dropped my time considerably (I'd been running around 21 minutes pretty consistently and I dropped to a PR of 19:35 last year). This meant running speed work, much of which I did in the cemetery near our house. In my marathon prep, I hadn't done any speed training; I only ran distance.

I started placing in my age group runs again - I'm not a "running shrine" kind of guy (I have most of my stuff in a drawer, though - I've heard that the Special Olympics will accept medals and give them out to their athletes, so when I accumulate enough, that's probably where they'll go). That said, it's really exciting to be "on the podium" for placing in my age group and I still find myself nervous with anticipation when it's time to announce my age group. And my kids love to play with the medals!

My big reason for not running another marathon has been the time issue. It takes a really big time commitment to be able to train properly. Every week would include a long run (anything over 8 miles is generally a long run - anything 8 or under is just a regular training run) up to a 20 miler. That's a lot of running, and right now my priorities are in different areas. So I've been focusing on shorter distances (5K through 1/2 marathon).

Having switched to shorter distances, my general running pace has quickened considerably. I had been between 9 and 9 1/2 minutes per mile, but I dropped to between 8 and 8 1/2. In fact, when I ran my first half marathon, I was planning for 8:30 miles (and came really close to hitting it), but I had a lot of energy left over. Enough that my final mile was 7:22. Still, when we reached the 12 mile mark, where the marathon runners and half marathon runners split off, I felt like I was cheating.

Still, it's been a fun challenge. I know I'll never be a world-class runner, and there'll be a time when my race times start to rise again, but, for now, it's fun and exciting to be dropping time, something I hadn't done in some 20 years.

2010-05-24T10:29:00.000-05:00

Spring Break Part 3: Ft. DeSoto County Park

While we were in central Florida with our friend, we visited Ft. DeSoto Park, located on Mullet Island (yes, that's what it's called - I think I saw the guy who it was named after) off St. Petersburg. We decided that we should come back and spend more time there, so after Sanibel, we made Ft. DeSoto our destination. They reserved a certain number of "walk-in" campsites, so we took advantage of that to grab a Monday-Thursday night stay.

This was perhaps the most beautiful campground I've ever stayed in. There were plenty of waterfront campsites, but (in order to not have to move mid-week) we stayed "inland." So our water view was across the camp road.The breeze blew in off the water, keeping the campsite pleasantly cool even though the sun really warmed things up during the day. Perfect weather for vacation!

We were on "relax" mode - we didn't make plans to go a lot of places or do a lot of things; but then again, we didn't need to, as there was plenty to do there in the park.

We spent our time at the beach, checking out the fishing pier (and getting cast-net fishing lessons from a 12 year old), going to the old fort, riding our bikes, and of course, going to the beach! We went to the beach every day, and a beautiful beach it was! Uncrowded, nice sand, lots of space for the boys to play (and dig), and a beautiful place to watch the sun set!

On the last night we were staying there, I woke up very early in the morning - Andrew was coughing a little - just enough to keep me awake - so I decided to go out for a run. As I was heading out of the park, I noticed a crowd gathering by the camp office. I thought maybe they were meeting for an excursion or something, but when I returned, I realized that they were "walk ins" waiting to register for campsites for the weekend. There were probably 50 of them there... before 5 am! That's dedication!

That morning I ended up going for a 10 mile run/walk along the beach trails (note: one banana isn't enough fuel for that long of a run). The beach road was closed from dusk to dawn, and I got there pre-dawn. I didn't think anything of it until I got to the a bridge leading toward the beach... where there were large barricades proclaiming the beach "closed." I ran past the barricades (and hid behind when a park truck came by - the park worker was taking down the closed signs).

There's something about an early-morning run anyway - I love watching the sun rise - but on the beach without another person in sight?... fantastic. This was one of the best vacations I've ever taken. Certainly the most relaxing and recharging!

2010-05-21T21:18:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday, Jonathan!

Our little boy is now 6 years old! He had a fantastic birthday - the grandparents came up from Kentucky to celebrate with him.

Instead of having a traditional birthday cake, which Jonathan wouldn't eat, he had strawberry/blueberry creme puffs. They were delicious!

As you might be able to tell, he loved them immensely!

Instead of getting him more toys for his birthday (his grandparents came through in the toy department with some cool Star Wars toys), we took him (and his brother, of course) to Kalahari indoor water park. This was his choice, and he had so much fun. He was, however, not pleased with the rule that he had to try a water slide. But he told me Thursday morning that he thought he could be brave enough to try the orange one. We went there first with my promise that once he tried it, I wouldn't bother him about it at all during the day.

He loved it!

And went on it over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over. And tried the blue one, too, and loved it as well! So he and Andrew kept riding and riding and riding! They had a blast!

It was an extremely fun trip with the family - and Kalahari is a great place to visit, especially when they're doing during-the-week specials (so we get the room and two days of the water park for less than we would have paid for one day's tickets to the water park) and when the place is practically empty (which is why they're running the great deals during the week while kids are in school)!

And a good time was had by all!

2010-05-21T13:49:00.001-05:00

Changing the World

About 1 1/2 years ago, I attended the Change the World Conference at Ginghamsburg UMC near Dayton, Ohio. I blogged about my experiences there and was a bit critical of Michael Slaughter.

Because I was public with my critique of him, I need to be public in my apology.

My complaint stemmed from a comment that Slaughter made about the "light show" and how his "twentysomething staffers demanded it" (or something like that) and told him "sit down, Mike."

Now, I doubt they really said those words, but, having experienced a panel discussion led by his Worship Design Team, I have to say this: Michael Slaughter gives his Worship Design Team huge freedom in ministry production. He won't "compromise" his prophetic message, but he has total trust in his team to do what's right and to produce a Spirit-led, full ministry. He is a tough leader, and I've never experienced first hand what it's like to work under him, but from what I could see, if his team says that a light show will produce the environment they're looking for (as a team - led by the Spirit), even if Michael Slaughter doesn't like a light show, the team will carry the day.

I was impressed, not only by Slaughter's authenticity (I got a chance to speak to him individually), and not only for his passion for Darfur (I already knew he was passionate about Darfur) or for sharing Jesus with the Dayton area (which he is passionately passionate about), but his passion for leading leaders and for mentoring young leaders in the church.

Well done, Michael Slaughter.

2010-05-21T07:51:00.000-05:00

My Running History, Chapter 7

It wasn't really a goal of mine; it was more of an "out there" hero-status mythical kind of thing. Kind of like playing guitar. I'd always wanted to do it, but I'd never done it. And I couldn't until I took lessons. But I'm getting off track. It was the "out there" pinnacle of running, but (to be really honest) I had never even thought of doing it.

Until Rob did.

Rob is one of my closest friends, and every year at our conference for church, Rob and I would run together. We used to just run up and down the lake path and out the pier. Rob is an athlete (has always been), but I was in better shape than he was. After all, I was a "runner" (meaning, I think, that a few times a week I'd hit the road for a three miler). This was when three miles was long distance, mind you.

Then Rob ran a marathon.

I was instantly jealous (and, to be honest, quite a bit conceited and arrogant). If Rob could run one, I sure could. So I made good friends with Hal Higdon, signed up for the Columbus Marathon, and began training for a marathon (no, I don't know the real Hal Higdon, but I sure used his marathon training guide religiously!).

During my marathon training, I still didn't have a running partner, so I was running these four, five, eight, twenty mile runs by myself. I was running five days every week (one day I would rest and one day I would play soccer for two hours). My favorite moment in training was in week 14, when my long run was 12 miles. This was Higdon's quote:

Run 12 miles. Did you believe when you started this program there would come a day when we would tell you to go that distance, and you'd think, "Oh, an easy day." It all depends on your point of view.

During my training, I ran my first trail race, the 2006 Hocking Hills Indian Run... 40K race. It was humbling and amazing. I was humbled by Steel Hill, which I realized I was going to have to walk if I wanted to finish. I was humbled by the long uphill to the finish line, where I had to walk again. It was the longest I'd ever run at one time, and I finished!

I cruised for the next month and then I ran the Columbus Marathon. From running 3 miles a day to finishing a 26.2 run - what a difference!

Running a marathon changed my perspective on running tremendously. But further thoughts will have to wait until chapter 8.

2010-05-17T12:30:00.000-05:00

My Running History, Chapter 6

All too soon, my days of running simply for the joy of running and running with a partner came abruptly to a halt. In 2001, I graduated from seminary and moved from Kentucky to Ohio. Since then, I've only sporadically had running partners, usually only when I would attend our annual conference for church. In fact, over the first seven years, that was the only time I got to train with anyone.

I wasn't running for fun anymore, either. I was running to alleviate stress. It wasn't pleasant at all. I would generally run 3-4 miles at a time, running a local race or two, but not much more than that. I made one friend who also used to run, and we made plans to run together (we even had matching jog strollers so we could presumably run with our babies), but we were both so busy and stressed out that we never made the time.

Running was a necessity, but it wasn't enough. It was more of an escape than something enjoyable.

But then something happened...

2010-05-13T15:28:00.000-05:00

My Running History, chapter 5

I was in seminary, and I had just joined the church choir.

Sounds like the beginning of a chapter about running, doesn't it?

To be more exact, I was in the bass section, where I knew nobody. Well, I knew that guy behind me, but he "didn't count" because he was "just" the intern. As it turned out, I began to get to know the guys in the section, and I found out that two of them were distance runners. Distance, as I would have described it then, was 5K. They convinced me that I ought to come out to the local Thanksgiving 5K race, and so I did. Mind you, though I hadn't been running at all for the past 7 years, I still thought of myself as a competitive runner. I was mildly embarrassed that all three of us were about the same speed - though they were both in their upper 50s and I was in my mid 20s.

About the same time, I got a dog, and he loved to run. So I would run with him around the neighborhood. Then Nate moved in across the street (actually, his wife moved in first - she left the "just married" thing on the car for years, it seemed, and we used to make so much fun of it!). But when he came, he had a little soccer ball hanging from his pickup truck rear view mirror, and it wasn't long until we were playing soccer together, then running together.

Aside from track and cross country, I had never had a running partner (and after we moved away from Kentucky, I haven't had a regular running partner again), and this was one of the highlights of my running "career." We just ran for the fun of it, to exercise, to work off the stress of being seminary students, and to give the dog a work out. We would meet at my mail box every morning with a "morning Ralph." "morning, Sam" greeting (bonus if you know where that's from) and we'd hit the road.

I learned something important through our runs.

Actually many things.

Having a running partner is great for accountability. When it's "too cold" or "too rainy" or you're "too tired" just seeing your partner out there at the mail box, stretching his legs, is enough to get me out there for a run.

As an extrovert, I love running with someone and talking the whole time. That kind of conversation time, 5 days a week, multiplied by months, builds close friendships. We'd talk about all kinds of things, many of them silly, but also serious stuff. It was cool running a marathon together many years later and catching right back where we left off (on the marathon, we decided we would plant a church together, and the staff meetings would be long-mileage runs).

When you're running with a dog, always be on your toes. My dog would stop and start and turn with no notice. Nate and I used to "judge" each other on how gracefully we'd avoid the leash.

Also, when you're running with a dog, make sure to bring extra bags. Enough said.

It was during this time that I began to really enjoy just running. We weren't running races (not many, anyway - I only remember running maybe 4 different races over the 4 years I was in Kentucky), but that didn't matter. It was all about the running.

2010-05-12T08:11:00.001-05:00

My Running History: Chapter 4

Chapter four is a gloomy chapter in my running history. It's where I ran away from running. It started with playing two sports in the same season (cross country and soccer). Because I had earned a varsity letter in cross country, I had decided that, were there a conflict, I would choose running. I preferred soccer, and I had been named the captain of the team, but I had decided that I had a responsibility to the cross country team as a varsity letter winner. Unfortunately the conflict came to a head, not between soccer and cross country, but between church camp and cross country. Every year I went to church camp, but this particular year it conflicted with cross country practice. I asked the coach if he wanted a camp counselor to verify my miles (I woke up early every morning to run 5-6 miles, which was quite the accomplishment, considering how much sleep I got (or not) that week). As it turned out, I wasn't eligible for the first meet, so I went to a soccer game instead. The coach was extremely unhappy, and he called my house. I wasn't home, but instead of asking me to call him back (or waiting until practice the next day), he cussed my sister out. And suspended me for 3 days. I didn't care about the suspension; but here's the thing: nobody treated my sister like that (I didn't even treat her like that, and this was in the height of the days in which we didn't get along).

So I quit.

I continued to run track - I loved running track. I even loved the speed workouts, usually trying to run all of my splits faster than I was supposed to (if I was supposed to run a 75 second 400, I'd run 72). I ran the 3200m, the 1600m, and the 800m, and the long jump. I wasn't very good at the long jump (I was in the mid 15 feet). I wasn't very fast in the 800m (my fastest time was in the 2:08 range - not fast enough to make our 4x800 relay team). As a junior, I primarily ran the 3200 (not all that fast, but fast enough to score 1 point in our conference meet... which we won by 1 point - running as our #2 3200m runner all season and scoring in the conference meet was enough for my varsity letter). My fastest time, if I recall correctly, was 11:20. I liked the mile best, but we had some really strong mile runners, so my fastest time of 4:40 wasn't fast enough for varsity.

As a senior, I was involved in a minor discipline infraction (some of us were goofing around in practice and got in trouble for it), but the way the head coach chose to deal with it really upset me. Instead of talking about the infraction (or even on the need for a little maturity from me, as a senior), he got personal. He focused on my times not dropping (mostly because of how hard I was working - I was confident that my times would drop significantly when I began to taper for the important meets), and he told me the team didn't need me.

So I quit. I told him that if my times weren't dropping and if the team didn't need me, and since I wasn't going to run track in college, maybe my time would be better spent playing soccer and hanging out with my friends.

And that pretty much summed up my running history for the next seven years. I ran one 5K race when I was in college (disaster - I fell on a patch of ice and took two runners out), but it wasn't until seminary when I started running with any sort of regularity.

2010-05-10T10:26:00.000-05:00

Lonely Leadership and Tender Hearts

Yesterday morning I mentioned the fact that being a pastor is lonely. I wasn't saying it to do the whole "poor me" thing - I don't feel sorry for myself and I have learned that leadership can be lonely - not just as a pastor, but in other places of leadership as well.(If you want a well-written article about lonely pastors, complete with statistics, here to read one). I was quoting Erwin McManus, who said, "ironically the less genuine community we have, the more we create artificial communities.”

Honestly, several times I have started and discarded a blog post about loneliness...

Anyway, I made this statement and then went on. After the second service, someone came up to me and said, "I'm ashamed; you've been here two years and I haven't had your family to my house." then went on to suggest a cook out later this spring/summer. And thought of several other people to invite.

First of all, it just sounded like a good idea - I like cook outs and hanging out. But as I was thinking about it more, it was a demonstration of how tender some people's hearts are. The point of using myself as an illustration was simply to show that many people create artificial community, but this person heard "my pastor is lonely" - and immediately came to the conclusion: ... and I can do something about it!"

This is a great reminder to me of how wonderful some people are. When we went to New Knoxville, there were a couple of people (you know who you are) who absolutely went out of their way to make us feel welcome, to make us feel like part of their families (including inviting us over for traditional "family" holidays). They remain special people in my heart.

It's also a reminder of how powerful the words spoken from the pulpit can be. I pray that as I continue to preach, that I will continue to listen to the Holy Spirit, giving me the words to speak.

2010-05-05T12:18:00.001-05:00

My Running History, Chapter 3

By seventh grade, I had become the long distance runner of my school. Cross country season could be boiled down to one word: undefeated. During track season, the only time I didn't win the mile run was in a huge invitational, in which I was running against 7th and 8th graders. All season I was running in the mid 5:25 range, and the day of the city meet, I found out that the city record was 5:25.3. I had been running less than 1 second over the record all year with my race strategy of running with the other team's top runner for 3 laps and smoking him on the final lap. As an aside, that strategy helped me make friends with the top runners from all of the other middle schools, which helped as we all joined together in 8th grade as part of the same team. I remember the city meet 1600m run vividly; someone (a fan? a parent? I'd never seen him before) was standing just past the start line, and at the 400m mark, he shouted to me that I had 20 yards on the next guy: go for it! Then he called out my splits, telling me that the record was within my grasp. I finished in 5:14 flat, shattering the old record by 11.3 seconds!

Things changed a bit when I went "downtown" - all of the middle schools were consolidated into one school. So my former competitors became my teammates. Those were good times, being pushed by Tim and Richard to run my fastest, setting the course record at the Highland Park course (I loved that course, mostly because of the numerous uphill climbs - I was always good at hills).

There was so much drama in middle school, and running was a welcome escape. We would run all over downtown Kokomo - to parks (Summers Park, and it's infamous hill workout), and frequently through the cemetery, where our coach would have us search for certain gravestones or see who could find the oldest one, where we would end up our workouts by running "pete and repeat" laps (trying to beat our time).

I experienced my first running injury during my eight grade year; we were running in Summers Park and on the way down the hill, I fell on a root, twisting my ankle. I just lay there on the ground, mostly because I was tired, not because my ankle hurt that much. By the time the coach got there, though, it had started swelling... the doctor diagnosed a bad sprain. I missed a big meet and a big soccer game for that injury.

Probably the biggest moment for me was when the high school cross-country coach approached me at a meet. He encouraged me to come out for the high school team the next year, that I would be a good addition to the team. I definitely looked up to the high school runners... and so as a freshman, I found myself running with them. I was our #1 junior varsity runner - all the while playing soccer (in the same season) for our newly started Kokomo Soccer Club.

I loved being part of the cross country team; I liked the camaraderie we shared and the fun we had while running. I liked the parties we had - the pool party at one team member's house and impromptu pizza party/TP session the night before a big meet.

At the end of the season, we went to the tournament. But one important thing had happened; there had been some discipline infractions, and several team members were suspended. They returned from suspension right before the Sectional meet, and they competed. One of them, however, hadn't trained, and he tanked. So, for the Regional meet, the team needed a seventh runner, so the top two JV runners had a run-off to determine who would run in the Regional.

I had a cold, but I ran the best race of my life. 16:57 over a 3 mile road course (which would adjust to about a 17:30 for a true 5K). I got the honor of running as seventh man for the team on the Regional champion team, earning me my first varsity letter.

I got to go on to the Semi-State race, and I made my first (and biggest) running mistake ever: I went out wayyyy too fast. At about the 800m mark, I looked around and saw the elite runners of the state. Only. It was then that I realized I was running too fast. Shortly thereafter, I felt a burning pain in my hips, like nothing I had ever experienced, and I knew my race was over. I finished in about 100th place (out of something like 125 runners) - in my slowest time ever (though probably around what I run now as a PR!!!).

2010-05-04T20:56:00.000-05:00

Spring Break, Part 2: Sanibel Island

When I think of a vacation to Florida, my first thought is... the beach. The one pictured to the left is our "night beach" where we went every evening to enjoy the shelling and the creatures in the tide pools. Jonathan was very good about "saving" sea stars. There were some other creatures that we didn't quite know what they were, but we figured out that if you touched them, they would squirt at you. This became Jonathan's favorite activity! He and Andrew would search for them and try to get them to squirt water at them.

Camping at Sanibel was interesting; the one campground on the island only had a little corner dedicated to tent camping, and it was primitive. But it was also pretty well empty. We were warned that the road noise would be bad, but it turned out that it just reminded us of home. And just like home, the beach was an easy bike ride from the house/tent. Except that here, the beach was, well, slightly different. The Gulf of Mexico or Buckeye Lake. Take your pick. But I bet you won't see dolphins swimming in Buckeye Lake (like we did almost every day in the gulf).

Sanibel was a great place for us. The atmosphere was extremely easy-going and laid-back. The only time we even looked at a watch was on Sunday, when we wanted to make it to church on time. We did some different activities, usually something in the morning, the beach in the afternoon, and the "night beach" in the evening. The evenings were the only time when we could go for walks on the beach; when we went to the beach during the day, the boys were all about playing in the sand (usually in a big hole - especially ones that other kids had previously dug).We took a bike ride through the "Ding" Darling Nature Preserve one day, and that was really nice. Sanibel is also extremely bike-friendly. There are bike paths everywhere (and bikes everywhere). We were glad we brought ours (and the tagalongs for the boys).

It did rain one day, but that wasn't so bad, because it was Sunday; we spent all morning in church in Ft. Myers, went out to eat, and then went to a children's museum all afternoon. When we returned, much of the campground was flooded, but our tent was almost completely dry (except for the corner of my blanket and Tara's sleeping bag - no problem: I threw them in the dryer and they were as good as new).

We loved Sanibel, but we had to leave there on Monday, headed for Fort De Soto County Park (near St. Pete). I'll cover this in my next vacation post.

2010-05-04T20:21:00.000-05:00

What I did on my Spring Vacation

Before this April, I had never taken a vacation longer than 10 days. We had not yet taken the boys on a camping vacation (though we have camped out several times with them). The boys had not yet been to Florida. All of that changed in April, as we embarked on a 3 week vacation.

Our destination: Florida. We got there via Kentucky (they've been to Kentucky before; that's where Grandma and Grandpa live - albeit on the other side of the state), Tennessee (a new state for them), Georgia (where we camped our first night), and finally, Florida!

We visited O'Leno State Park, where we hiked and saw our first (and second) alligators. It rained in the night, but it was dry in our tent, and by the time we got back from our hike, everything was dry enough to pack up and head on south.

We went to central Florida, where we met up with our friend, Richard Zinck. He's one of our snowbirds - winters in Florida, summers in Ohio (we decided that the snowbirds are the smart ones). We were planning on camping near his house so we could visit him, but he arranged a house for us to stay in! We had a lot of fun in central Florida - we played a lot of mini-golf and shuffleboard, we visited the Tampa Zoo, we went to a really cool park in Lakeland, and we went to church with Richard.

We got to see all kinds of wildlife there - I saw a bobcat (which had unfortunately lost its battle with a vehicle), we saw an armadillo (also roadkill), there was an alligator in the pond in Richard's community, and then there was the little snake (pictured to the right). Don't worry; it had already lost its battle with humans, too.

At the zoo, Andrew was having a good time until he got licked and "bonked" by a giraffe. As far as zoos go, Columbus Zoo is better! At the Tampa zoo, we felt completely inundated by their marketing; everywhere you looked, something was for sale. They even had a "feed the giraffe" booth ($2 for a cracker). We stood in line but did not buy a cracker. And the giraffe paid attention to us anyway. Too much attention, if you were to ask Andrew.

From Lakeland, we headed south to Sanibel Island. This was a good choice of destinations for us. We thought about going to the Keys, but it was going to cost a lot more and we would have had to drive a lot longer, especially to go out to Key West, and, well, honestly we didn't want to be in the van by this time!

In my next post, I'll take you to Sanibel.

2010-05-04T08:45:00.001-05:00

My Running History, Part 2

Starting middle school was a big deal; no longer would I attend the school just down the street from my house. No longer would I be in one class with one teacher all day. And no longer would I be guaranteed to see (my best friends) Jeremy and Darrell every day. On the first day of school, I met my new classmates. One classmate (David C) I had already met on the soccer field, and we immediately became best friends. As we were walking upstairs one day that first week, we saw a sign advertising call-outs for the cross-country team. David asked me, "Are you going to run cross-country?" I said, "Yes." And we did.

Cross country practice on the first day consisted of me, wearing my clunky basketball high top shoes, running around the school yard. I quickly realized that these were not the shoes to wear for long distance running!

My dad found me a pair of black Pony shoes (complete with orange stripe - my school colors) and I wore them proudly to top-ten finishes all year. I think I still have the ribbons. My proudest moments of sixth grade cross-country were finishing second to my teammate, the unbeatable Marc Dubbels and a fifth place finish in the city county meet.

Cross-country was never the big name or popular sport, but I loved running. Practice was always just running around the school yard (which I always liked), and meets were fun. Our team was good (we went 1-2-3-4-6 in the meet in which I placed 2nd), so I'm sure that helped.

In the spring, I joined the track team. I got to run around that cinder track (again and again and again). We had a good team again - city meet winners (and I was a double winner, surprisingly taking the 400 and being on the winning 4x100 relay team). During the season, I tried my hand at the 200m, 400m, 4x100 relay, 110m low hurdles, long jump, and shot put. I was a terrible hurdler and shot-putter, and was OK in the long jump - though I never had a realistic chance to win, as Johnny Alsup was on my team, already jumping 18 feet), but I loved the running events (even the sprint relay!).

2010-05-03T08:49:00.000-05:00

My Running History, part 1.

The first sport I remember wanting to participate in was running. I remember riding past the local middle school and seeing the track and wishing my dad would stop the car so I could run on the track (though I don't remember ever actually asking him to stop). This wasn't one of your super-nice all-weather tracks (like the one we recently got installed here in Millersport); this was an old cinder track. But I wanted to run on it.

Every time we went to Scotty's Sandwich Junction (a Kokomo local chain burger restaurant that served great tenderloin sandwiches and always had good coupons) or Taco Grande ($.39 tacos and all-you-can-drink pop refills before anyone was doing that), we'd drive past Maple Crest Middle school, and I would wish to run on the track.

I eventually did get to run on that track - in sixth and seventh grade, I ran at Maple Crest. I don't know how many miles I put in on that track - my track practice usually consisted of me hitting the track and running laps until practice was done. In 7th grade, I consistently ran miles in the mid 5:25s on that track (I found out the day of the city meet that all season I was less than a second off the city record - in the city meet, I broke the record by running 5:14, but that was on the all-weather track at the high school). These many years later, I just wish I could run that fast!

2010-04-30T10:30:00.001-05:00

Fear not.

I haven't abandoned this place. I've just been on vacation. When I get a chance, I will update the blog with vacation pictures.

2010-03-23T08:56:00.000-05:00

A Runner

I realized something this past week. For 30 years, I have considered myself a soccer player who happens to run. Soccer was the first sport I played, and I loved it right away. But I always wanted to run - I can remember going past the middle school track and wanting desperately to run on that track (even though it was an old cinder track). I eventually set records on that track, but I was still a soccer player who happened to run long distance. I was county champion in cross country, and city champion in several events through middle school, and I received a varsity letter as a freshman cross-country runner.

Still I was a soccer player who happened to also run. That's why I would do both in the same season. In fact, as a high school sophomore, I chose (club) soccer over (varsity) cross country. I was definitely a soccer player who happened to run.

This past week, however, I realized that this is no longer true. Now I consider myself a runner who happens to love to play soccer. I still play soccer and I play my hardest. I love getting together with the team. I love a great pass. I love scoring goals. But I am clearly a runner who also plays soccer.

A defining moment in this realization has been my Saturdays. Before, I would certainly not run on a Saturday in anticipation of my soccer game. I would want to keep myself fresh for the game. But over the past couple of months, I've been finding myself out for runs, even longer runs (8-9 miles) on Saturdays, game and all. I'm not exactly even training for any races or anything - just running to run.

I now define myself as a runner who happens to love soccer.

2010-03-22T14:10:00.000-05:00

Monday Musings

When I was a teenager, one thing that always bothered me was that "church people" didn't seem to have any joy. Not at church, anyway. Sure, they could cheer their heads off for the local high school football or basketball teams, but I never saw any enthusiasm or excitement on Sunday morning. Unfortunately, I've seen that attitude in more than one church.

I understand coming before the LORD with reverence and respect, and I know that there are times and places for different attitudes and different people show their emotions differently, but I craved a worship experience where I saw people actually celebrating what God was doing. On a regular Sunday morning even.

This Sunday we experienced that.

It seemed like a celebratory atmosphere pervaded our morning. We celebrated a baptism. We celebrated a dedication. We celebrated miraculous healing. We sang, we prayed, we danced, we laughed, we listened to God's word, we celebrated some more.

This kind of stuff never gets old. Especially getting the honor of baptizing a new believer. And watching a congregation celebrate with her. This Sunday was one of those reminders of why I love being a pastor.

2010-03-19T16:25:00.000-05:00

Proud Moment

This evening Jonathan was playing with his castle and was bantering about enemies and friends, and his knights were fighting one another, and then he said, "But you're supposed to love your enemies. The Bible says to."

I asked him who said we're supposed to love our enemies (I was hoping the answer would be Jesus), and he said, "You say that, Daddy. You say it in church."

When I told him I was proud of him for listening, he told me that he "just can't help but listen."

When you don't think your kids are paying attention, they just might be. And if you're an adult who can't pay attention or remember anything that's said in a sermon, shame on you.

I am so proud of Jonathan and humbled at the same time.

2010-03-17T08:50:00.002-05:00

Remember

Do you remember the “good ole’ days”? Unless you’ve been living a blues song, you probably do (and maybe even then). Many people can identify those times that “were the best days of our lives.” How about you? When were those best days? I remember being a teenager, being told “enjoy these days; they are the best days of your life,” and I always found that rather depressing. If those days were the best ones, why live out the rest?

I’ve met many parents who absolutely loved some previous stage of their children’s lives; they loved the tiny baby in arms or they loved the loving toddler. Some just loved the adventurous preteen or the active teenager.

Then there were all of the wonderful moments in our lives – I know plenty of people who would love nothing more than to go back in time and relive various memories, especially to relive special times with loved ones who have since passed away.

The Bible tells us to remember. The book of Deuteronomy is full of the word “remember.” God continually reminds His people what He has done. Why does He do that? He gives us a memory on purpose. He wants us to look back and to see where He has been at work in our lives, especially where He has delivered us. In Deuteronomy, He reminds His people how He brought them out of Egypt miraculously, how He fed them and took care of them, how He drove out their enemies before them.

Unfortunately God’s people often got caught up in their memories and looked back nostalgically to places and times gone by. They got so wrapped up in the memories, their version of what happened, that they could hardly face the present, let alone the future. They constantly grumbled that they wanted to go back to Egypt (where they were enslaved), and because of their obsession with their twisted memories, they couldn’t accept the present, let alone the future. They couldn’t understand or accept how God was working, providing for their every need.

They missed out on the reason for these memories: to encourage us in the days to come. Not to repeat the days in the past, as good (or bad!) as they might have been. When we look back and see how God has worked in the past, we are empowered to live today (and tomorrow) in full trust and to use our memories to encourage others!

2010-03-08T10:45:00.000-05:00

Musical Authenticity

I've stood in the midst of worship wars (generally between so-called "traditional" and so-called "contemporary" music, the former often being led by a choir and/or a worship leader and accompanied by piano and/or organ, and the latter being led by a praise team and accompanied by some combination of guitar, drum, keyboard, and bass), and I've come to a conclusion.

Actually several conclusions.

One is that sometimes we can get distracted by the accompaniment to the extent that we don't remember that the worship songs are for us to sing! This can happen with a great band that puts on a great show (complete with strobe lights and smoke machines) or with a fantastically polished orchestra or choir. Sometimes it seems like we church people have missed the point of the music in our corporate worship. In the preface to our hymnal, there is a page reprinted from John Wesley's Select Hymns, 1761, in which we are directed to "Beware of singing as if you were half dead, or half asleep; but lift up your voice with strength." and "Above all, sing spiritually. Have an eye to God in every word you sing. Aim at pleasing him more than yourself, or any other creature."

[as an aside, I remember when a former church was going through the process of hiring a new organist, and as I was on staff, I got several comments and questions about the potential organist - would he play as loudly as he did when he subbed for us?]

Sometimes we let the "professionals" do worship for us. I've been in churches that don't sing, and it's pitiful. I love being in churches that sing, and it's not so much about the style of music that's being sung or the decade (or century) in which the songs were written; it's about how they're being sung. My first Sunday that I was "in charge" having been appointed to my first church (as associate), the music director asked me if I wanted to pick songs. I picked (among others) And Can It Be that I Should Gain, a Charles Wesley hymn that was an Asbury Theological Seminary favorite. (Though I honestly didn't attend chapel all that devoutly), I was used to hearing the (full) Estes Chapel reverberate with the joyful sound of seminarians belting out Charles Wesley's words. But this song wasn't a familiar one at Stonybrook in Gahanna (and it hasn't been familiar in New Knoxville or in Millersport, either) and the congregation barely mumbled its powerful words. I was so discouraged. Truth was, architecture had a lot to do with the problem; Stonybrook's sanctuary sucked the sound out, while the New Knoxville sanctuary's acoustics amplified the sound of singing.

But this wasn't where I was going. So let me get back to my point.

Another conclusion I've drawn from the worship wars is that I'll take authenticity over about anything else when it comes to worship leadership. I don't mean I want someone who can't sing a lick to lead singing, just because he's heartfelt. So let me explain what I do mean.

Yesterday in our first ("traditional") service, we had special music sung by two really dear women of the church. One has become a personal friend of our family, and the other I have gotten to know through the new member class. They apparently have gotten to know each other better through the choir and through the women's retreat. Anyway, before they sang, one of them told us that this song would be sung in honor of her father; it was his 80th birthday, and it is his favorite song. They proceeded to sing "In the Garden." They blended nicely, and the song is a favorite, but that wasn't what made it so good. What made it so good was that it was heartfelt and the interaction between the two singers. They looked like they were completely enjoying each other's encouragement and the opportunity to sing God's praises.

This was in the back of my mind as I was reading an article my sister-in-law posted on Facebook (about Come Down and Meet the Folks, "a twice monthly gathering that has become the epicentre of a scene with, as yet, no name. Some call it country, others roots or Americana; many have settled on the oxymoronic UK Americana") - one of the points of the article (and of the whole (yet unnamed) movement) is that typical Nashville popular country music is overproduced (even described as "sanitized") and, thus, inauthentic.

When I worship, I want to be led by authentic worship leaders. But what I want them to be authentic about is the LORD. I don't just want someone to "lead singing" - I want to see that they mean what they are singing, that it means something to them, that it's more than just "what we do." This goes for the best-produced church band/orchestra/choir as well as the little country church singer.

2010-03-03T13:48:00.000-05:00

Reading through the Bible

Aside from some times on retreats, I have never spent as much time in the Bible as I have over the past two weeks. I am currently in 1 Chronicles on my Lenten journey through the entire Bible. There are certain parts I've recently read in depth (the story of Joseph was something I studied again last month in sermon preparation), and I've done a "read through the Bible in a year" program and have studied various parts in depth, but I've found myself experiencing a lot of it as new all over again

When I got the idea to read through the Bible in Lent, it was mostly a personal goal. It was going to be me and God, me reading, God speaking. But me and my big mouth - I went and told people that I was going to do it, and then some other people said they wanted to do it, too. So I created a Facebook group (more for accountability than anything else), and it took off! Currently there are 104 members of the Facebook group!

And the cool thing about how it all played out was this: people started talking about the Bible, about what they had read, about what they didn't understand, about what they had forgotten, about cool things they'd seen. I was at a cell group meeting last night and, of the ten people there, six were involved in the Bible reading "challenge" (all of us struggling to keep up with the daily readings).

Instead of being a personal "me and God" kind of thing, like my "quiet times" have always been, it became a community thing, where the Bible was being read individually and studied and discussed communally. And not just a community thing among the people who are already gathered together (i.e., the cell group meeting), but among people who have not even met one another face-to-face. Our group includes self-proclaimed "Bible Nerds" (like me) and others who haven't ever read the entire Bible... and it's fantastic.

2010-02-22T13:39:00.001-05:00

What Do They See?

During our first service on Sunday mornings, we have a "children's message" where someone does a mini sermon for the children. This week's was about running, specifically focusing on the story of Derek Redmond, and in the midst of the message, Andrew, my 3 year old, piped up: My Daddy runs 5K!

There are a lot of things that we as parents do that our children just naturally pick up on, and for me, running is one of those things. Andrew especially likes running and can't wait until his next "race." He wants to "run 5K" and, much to his brother's chagrin, claims to have run a 5K already (he has done a 5K, but it was in a stroller, while Jonathan completed one on his own). Actually Andrew's run was a kids' run in collaboration with the Thanksgiving 5 miler I ran - it was more like 100m than 5K. But who's counting?

Andrew has a little toy "listening device" with an earphone, and often when I am getting ready to go out and run, Andrew will get that toy and put the earpiece in and announce, "I'm going running." He associates my iPod with running - not a bad association, as that's almost the only time I wear my headphones.

This should stand as a reminder to all of us: our children are watching us. What do they learn - not just from what we're trying to teach them, but from what they see us doing?

2010-02-19T10:04:00.000-05:00

Hard Time Blogging

I've had a hard time blogging recently because much of my time has been consumed with other things. I believe in blogging, and it's a good outlet for me - somewhere to put my thoughts on "paper" - but especially with the Bible reading challenge, that time just isn't as plentiful.

Plus, since January, I've been making an attempt to write in my actual journal as I read the Scriptures. I've enjoyed doing that as a spiritual discipline in the past, but lately I'd gotten away from it. But the side effect of writing in my journal regularly and of reading scripture for well over an hour each day is that the blog gets a little less attention.

Thanks for continuing reading!

2010-02-14T10:43:00.001-05:00

Last Night's Weird Dream

Last night I was craving salsa, so before I went to bed, I ate some chips & hot salsa, and I was just expecting some weird dreams. I was not disappointed.

I dreamed that there was some super-evil bad guy who was plotting some kind of super evil, and he had hostages he was planning to kill. He and the hostages were on a bridge over a large river. I was not on the bridge; in fact, one other person and I were the only ones who could stop this bad guy, because we knew how to cross the raging river. He didn't know that there was a ford where one could walk across in water only up to knee level. We had a plan and a gun, and we were planning to cross the river and kill him before he killed the hostages and wreaked his evil havoc.

We were crossing the ford when there was a terrible splash. Somehow the evil guy had fallen from the bridge. He did not land on or near the ford; he landed in deep water, and it became quickly apparent that he could not swim. He was drowning.

Shortly, he washed up on the bank, not breathing.

We rushed over to where he was; I knew that he would die if CPR were not administered right away.

...and I woke up.

What would you have done - would you have saved his life, even though your original plan was to kill him?

2010-02-10T09:02:00.000-05:00

Learning Something New

I love getting exercise (no surprise to you if you know me), and I find running therapeutic. Honestly, when I go running, it's usually because I need to. Partly because I've become an endorphin junkie, partly because it's my quiet time with God, partly because it's the only time when I have the patience to listen to sermons, and partly because of the physical challenge, but I need my runs.

As we've been blasted with snow lately, running just hasn't been my preferred option. Sure, I could run, and some of my colleagues don't let a foot of snow keep them from running outside, but I'm just not into wet feet and slipping and sliding (and the potential for injury). So I've been trying cross country skiing.

Though I've done it a few times before, it's really something new for me. I had to figure out how to dress for it (hint: treat it like a run; otherwise, I'll overheat immediately!); I had to figure out where to go (there are some very nice trails nearby, but getting there is the issue), and I had to figure out how far is a decent workout. But even more important than those has been this: I'm figuring out what motions are best. I found that if I pick up the skis (in a running motion), I can go a little faster in the short term, but it has been causing a snow build-up on the underside of the skis, which, in turn, slows me down when I try to slide the skis (even downhill). So I have to learn how to move most efficiently.

This is something that carries over to all of life. Whether we like it or not (or recognize it or not), things are changing. If nothing else, every day we're all one day older. Technology is changing things faster than ever. And life and ministry requires us to develop new strategies. Sometimes what seemed to work before doesn't really work anymore, and what seemed most efficient isn't anymore. Sometimes making assumptions (like I, who assumed that a running motion would be faster on the skis) just leaves us bogged down.

This is especially true for the church, who sometimes gets bogged down in "the way we've always done it." I'm not talking about church tradition (United Methodists base our belief primarily in the Bible, but we acknowledge that we interpret the scriptures largely through our reason, experience, and tradition); tradition is rich and beautiful and helps connect us with years of Christians who have gone before us, and tradition helps us from making the same mistakes made by those who went before us. I'm talking about an "this is how we've always done it" attitude.

What are some methods that might need updating in your life?

2010-02-02T10:33:00.000-05:00

Worship Leader/Lead Worshiper

When I was growing up in church we always had a song leader - someone who would stand in front of the congregation and direct (usually musically trained well enough to actually direct) the singing. Sometimes they would add some wrinkles into the singing, like saying "power" sixteen times instead of two in the line "There is power, power, wonder-working power in the blood (in the blood) of the Lamb (of the Lamb)." Usually they would stand in the pulpit to lead.

As churches adapted to having worship bands, a specific person was the "worship leader" - assuming the same role, just with a band behind him/her instead of piano and organ, with a hand-held mic instead of the pulpit mic. But as worship bands became more common, there came some backlash against the typical worship leader. Some began to think that the worship leader was too visible, that the "worship" was becoming a "show" and instead of glorifying God, it was glorifying gifted singers/musicians (especially the one person who was most visible).

And so we began to see the rise of the "lead worshiper" - check out your praise and worship CDs or this article by Jeff Deyo - the idea is that the only difference between the person in front and the person in the pews is position (and microphone and/or instrument). That what the "lead worshiper" is doing is simply worshiping. certainly not putting on a show. It's all about God, and the congregation is simply invited to worship along with the lead worshiper, who is "really" just worshiping.

The difficulty with this is that some of us need some help worshiping. No, I'm not talking about those who are clap-impaired and don't know which beat is proper to put the hands together. I'm talking about those who don't necessarily realize or recognize that our physical posture actually impacts our spiritual openness. A lead worshiper wouldn't necessarily tell a congregation to "raise holy hands" but would just raise his/her hands in worship. And most in a congregation (who aren't used to raising hands) would never think of raising their hands just because a lead worshiper was doing so. Simply put, a lead worshiper isn't a worship teacher - and that's one thing that most congregations need.

Even at the National Pastors Conference a couple years ago, one of the neatest worship experiences was led by a professor of worship who taught us (pastors) about posture (think about it; are you going to be more open to the Holy Spirit if your arms are crossed against you or if your hands are open in front of you?) about the Temple and the Presence of God, and other things. Though the music "wasn't my favorite style" (an easy excuse not to worship fully), I felt more freed to worship with all of me...

This past Sunday, Chad led worship for us - not just as a lead worshiper (which he has usually been), but by instructing us in worship, how to worship, to give our whole selves in worship. It was fantastic.

That said, (from his standpoint) it wasn't all about him teaching us - he was worshiping with his whole heart and was also teaching us and leading us in worship. Sort of a lead worshiper worship leader.

2010-01-20T20:10:00.001-05:00

Do Hard Things and a Bible Reading Challenge

Last week I was working on a sermon about stopping running away from doing tough things, and one place of inspiration for the message was Brett and Alex Harris' book Do Hard Things (incidentally, if you are a teenager or parent (or grandparent) of a teenager or preteen, this ought to be required reading). I checked out Alex and Brett's website (the rebelution) I noticed they had a forum there. I didn't register or anything, but I glanced at it, and I was struck by a thread there.

Some people there decided to read the Bible through in its entirety... during Christmas break... again. Yes, I said again. The person who posed the idea was planning to do it again. She had done it before.

Now, I've read through the Bible in a year. I've read through the Bible chronologically. I've read (almost all of) the Bible devotionally or for study (yes, even Leviticus). But not in such a short time.

Yet as I was running and listening to a sermon and thinking about hard things and about the message I was getting ready to deliver, I thought, "What hard thing am I supposed to do?" and the answer came pretty quickly. I should read the Bible in its entirety, during Lent.

For you who aren't familiar with the Christian liturgical year, Lent is the 40 day period (not counting Sundays) before Easter, starting on Ash Wednesday. It's a time when we focus on Christ and repentance, often by "giving something up for Lent" (fasting) and/or "taking something up for Lent" (adding another spiritual discipline). I decided to "take something up" - namely Bible reading.

There are 1189 chapters in the Bible, and 40 days in Lent (Sundays will be days off), meaning each day I'll will need to read 30 chapters (and then the last couple of days will be a little lighter).

Being foolhardy and not necessarily thinking things out, I announced to the congregation at church that I would be doing this. Both services. I'm sure I'll have plenty of accountability.

So I decided, if I'm going to be that accountable, I'd might as well make a facebook group, too. That way maybe some other people could join me in this challenge. So I did. You can find it here. If you are interested, check out the facebook page - there's a little "join this group" link on the left side of the page (under the picture of the Bible). I'll shortly be posting the reading plan I'll be using.

2010-01-12T08:22:00.000-05:00

Going the Extra Mile

I think our culture has largely forgotten the extra mile. I know it's a hard concept for me to get my head around, let alone my actions. I have had several recurring dreams in my life. The first one I can remember involved a huge locomotive barreling down the tracks at me - I was probably 6 years old. Most of them involve school: showing up at school sans clothing - though usually I have a towel and/or underwear (sorry for that mental picture). And then there's the one about forgetting my locker combination (the other night I had that dream, but I remembered the combination!). Often I end up on my way to a final exam in a class that I had never showed up for and somehow forgot to drop (and I often don't even know where the class is going to be held). For a long time I had church-related nightmares (those stopped when I got to a place of forgiveness for some hurtful things that had happened).

But one of my frequent recurring dreams is the one about running. You have to remember that I actually like running, but in these dreams (often I'm running a cross-country race) I can hardly move. I'm running, but my feet feel like lead. Kind of like how they felt when I was running the last couple of miles of the Columbus Marathon, when I couldn't lift them enough to stomp on a paper cup. So I stop running and walk. But I can hardly move while walking either, so I decide that I'd be better off crawling. And that doesn't even help. So I can hardly move.

I know, there are probably other reasons for this type of dream, but it got me to thinking about going the extra mile. If you don't know what I'm talking about, it's when Jesus was talking to his disciples and the crowds and he told them "If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles." The idea was that the Romans could force their conquered people to carry their stuff for a mile. That was the limit. But Jesus tells his followers to go ahead and go way beyond what is required.

I don't know about you, but sometimes just doing what is required is hard. It feels like those running dreams I was talking about. My feet are made of lead. Even when I know I should do it. But then to go the extra mile... that's like crawling! Uphill. In the snow. And honestly I don't want to do it.

But that's what Jesus is telling me to do. And he's not just telling me to do it with a "do as I say" kind of attitude. He lived it out. 2 Corinthians 5:21 is a good verse to take to heart: God made him who had no sin to become sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

That's a good reminder to me... to go the extra mile, because I won't travel it alone. Jesus already walked it, and He walks it with me.

2010-01-08T11:23:00.000-05:00

The Decade that Was: A Retrospective

Now that it's a good solid week into 2010, I thought I'd write up a brief retrospective of the past 10 years.

2001: I was in my last year of seminary at Asbury, living in Nicholasville, KY, running a 3 mile loop pretty much daily with Nate and Scooter. I got a job offer in Ohio, so after graduation, I became the Associate/Youth Pastor at Stonybrook UMC.

Life changed pretty quickly with two events in 2001: the death of Troy Simpson, a young man I'd just gotten to know, but who was good friends with pretty much everyone I was friends with in Gahanna. I'll never forget his funeral... mostly because it took place on September 11.

2002: Work. That seems like all I did. 60 hours per week usually. I played bass in the praise band at church, and I started guitar lessons. Tara got her Master's Degree at Ohio State, and I got to play (guitar) in her recital.

2003: Another year of tons of work with little respite, but this year we got to go a couple of neat trips. We went to England to see my brother, and that was a wonderful trip. After we got back, we got to see the Grand Canyon when we were in Arizona for a conference.

2004: Life changed forever as we welcomed Jonathan to the world! I don't like any pictures of me from this time period because I gained a lot of baby weight (and stress weight). I didn't get any time off for the baby, and that added to the stressful life. That summer we got a new senior pastor at Stonybrook, who we were really looking forward to. My biggest accomplishment at church was starting youth ministry small groups.

2005: This year we figured out that the senior pastor and I didn't see eye-to-eye. After a surprise call from the district superintendent, I found out that we were moving from Gahanna. I learned a lot about both obedience and betrayal this year. This summer we moved from Gahanna to New Knoxville, Ohio. Once again, I was involved in high school soccer, as I volunteered with the team.

2006: Right at the beginning of the year, Tara blew out her knee. But she had surgery and rehabbed it fast enough to go backpacking in the Grand Canyon in May! What an awesome trip. This summer at Vacation Bible School, I joined with the pastor of the "other" church in town to do some improv skits. This morphed into a deep friendship with "PD" in which we would routinely get together and share and pray for one another. One of the highlights of New Knoxville life was this friendship and the fellowship between our churches. It was hard being "on my own" in ministry, so it was great to have someone to share with. In the Fall, I officially became a marathon runner, when I ran the Columbus Marathon. It honestly was a lot of fun. Until the 19 mile mark. Finish time: 4:26. But more important than all of that was that this year in August, Andrew was born!

2007: After having custody of Andrew for six months, we got to adopt him! So he officially joined our family this year. I joined an accountability group of fellow pastors, which was ministry-wise one of the best experiences I've had. I ran another marathon, this time in Louisville (finish time: 4:17). This was fun until the last couple of miles, and after the marathon, I felt horrible.

2008: We moved again - this time to Millersport, Ohio. I was so excited to move to Millersport; we already had friends here, and it was close to Columbus. It was a lot of work to move, and even more work on the new house, but it's exciting to be working on a (church staff) team instead of alone. Jonathan started preschool this year, and he loved it. He also started piano lessons!

2009: This spring, Jonathan started on a soccer team, and he continued his piano lessons (even had his first recital). Andrew started preschool in the fall (and was the first to catch his teacher's fish). We welcomed Baby Jason into our family for 4 months (August 10-December 8) and got a chance to love him.

Now it's 2010... who knows what this year holds for us?!

2010-01-05T09:22:00.000-05:00

Looking Out For Pedestrians

When I was in drivers' ed, I remember how our teacher stressed to us, as new drivers, that when we are beginning to enter an intersection, we aren't to do so until we've looked both ways (twice). The most important part of looking both ways was (obviously) to look for cars, but part of looking both ways was to look for pedestrians.

I've noticed that people don't walk as much these days, and maybe this is what contributes to the following: I've noticed that drivers often don't look for pedestrians. I've noticed this as a runner (where I'm always vigilant when crossing streets or driveways), but I've noticed it even more as a father, walking with my boys. Drivers just aren't on the lookout for pedestrians.

It's important (as a pedestrian) that I look out for drivers who aren't looking out for me. But it's a reminder that it's extremely important as a driver to look out for pedestrians, even when you don't often see people walking around town.

I was thinking about this on my run last night (after a passenger had to alert a driver of my presence).

Sometimes we get to areas in our lives where we haven't been tempted in some area for a long time. Maybe you used to struggle in some area and you knew you had to remain vigilant all the time, but those struggles haven't surfaced in a long time, and you've stopped looking out for them. Like the alcoholic who used to stay away from bars because he knew he'd be tempted, but he hasn't had a drink in such a long time, so why not stop by the bar with his friends - after all, alcohol isn't a problem anymore, is it? Or the married person who knows he or she will never have an affair, so even though they know they shouldn't be spending so much time alone with someone of the opposite sex, they think it could never happen to them, and they lose their vigilance.

The lesson is that we need to remain vigilant. Even (especially) in areas where we think we're in the clear. Take an extra look for pedestrians today.

2010-01-04T15:35:00.000-05:00

Insight From Running

If you've been reading my blog, it shouldn't come as a surprise to you that I am an avid runner. A few years ago I decided to run a marathon. I trained all summer and early fall to run in mid-to-late October. Then a friend asked me to run another one in April. This meant I had to do all those weeks of training through the winter. I religiously trained, though I spent many, many miles going around and around and around the track at the YMCA (hey, it beats the treadmill!).

I logged a lot of Y miles over the past four years, especially in the winter. This year, however, we canceled our Y membership - mostly because of the time it takes us to go to and from the gym. It's a good 25-30 minutes each way, meaning I'd have to block out at least an extra hour for a workout.

So, as long as the roads aren't ice covered, I'm running outside.

One thing I've found is that what I run in is of utmost importance. I have several pairs of running tights (I've been wearing the warmest pair this week), but anything above 35 is shorts weather. Otherwise my legs get too hot. On top, I have several different running shirts (technical fabric - good for wicking away sweat), and when it's extremely cold I'll wear a jacket, too.

Add gloves and a headband or hat to that and I'm fine. Right?

Not really.

This past week my face has been the coldest I can remember. Yesterday I thought my cheeks might crack. I think I'm going to get a running face mask of some kind. Preferably sooner rather than later. The problem has been big enough that I don't end up running nearly as far as I want (nor as fast). In fact, as I write this, I am thinking about going out for a run, but I just don't want to expose my face to the wind.

What does this have to do with anything?

I can get everything else right, but if I'm neglecting one area, my life won't be the life it was meant to be. If I do everything right in public but neglect my personal time with the LORD, I'm leaving my face exposed to the wind and cold. If I'm engaged in sinful behavior or sinful thought patterns, I'm likewise exposing my face to the elements, no matter how well I'm dressed otherwise.

When Jesus told his followers to "be perfect as your heavenly father is perfect" (Matthew 5:48), he was telling them: if you want to follow me, you'll have to be all in. You can't compartmentalize your life and trust me in some and trust in yourself in others. You can't have it both ways. You're going to have to follow me with everything. Dress yourself completely in me. Otherwise your life won't be the life God meant for it to be.

So, how are you dressed for the weather? And how is your life dressed for following Jesus?

2010-01-02T10:25:00.000-05:00

I'm Glad I'm Not Out Here By Myself

I remember starting out in ministry, when Sundays were painful. By painful, I mean they were extremely difficult. They usually included 14 hour work days with a short break in the middle. I had to wear multiple hats and had to change them on the fly.

I was burned out, over stressed, and struggling. One thing I didn't recognize at all was how little I was actually worshiping God. I was doing so much and being pulled in so many different directions that Sundays were anything but a time of celebrating God. Though we had musical excellence, we weren't a singing church, and that was an extremely hard transition from seminary.

When I first started there, I was there for one week, and then the senior pastor left for his three week vacation. Then the church secretary left for a two week vacation. I was left in charge for three weeks with little to no help. That was awful. I got the impression (and was told outright) that if I wanted things done well, I had to do them. Later at that church, I was told that I wasn't doing things well enough, so I needed to do everything and I needed to do it all differently. But that's another story...

So I moved on to another church, and I was the solo pastor. Something I guess I'd learned by osmosis was that the only time someone other than the pastor preached was when the pastor was on vacation. Only then would he relinquish "his" pulpit. I lived that out in New Knoxville, only giving opportunities when I was gone. That was a mistake, and I am sorry for doing that, because we had a very able retired pastor as well as a just-as-capable (and homegrown) certified lay speaker who could preach whenever I called on them.

One value I've been trying to live out since is something I learned by not seeing it practiced is that it demonstrates to other on my team that I support them if I show up. Yes, that means listening to the sermons of those who work with me, even though I am the lead pastor. Quite honestly, I enjoy sitting and listening to Chad or Rudy preach. They bring the Word of God through the power of the Holy Spirit, and I get to support them and listen to the words God has given them.

But that isn't even the most important part of not being on my own. I think about a crisis in the church and having to come back early from vacation (after thanksgiving) but honestly Rudy was doing so much work behind the scenes that it made my work a lot easier (not that it was easy, but it was better having someone working with me). And then there is the factor of bouncing ideas off one another and leading in different areas of gifting and handing off other responsibilities (this "handing off" doesn't just go "down" the chain - if there's something that Chad or Rudy can't or shouldn't be doing, I'll pick it up, too). Like when one of them preaches, if I'm there, I will do other aspects of the service to allow them to "just" preach (I'll do the greeting and announcements and prayer, so they don't have to worry about what comes next, which is incidentally why I've always got the bulletin/program in my hand, because I don't remember what's next even though our services look pretty similar every week).

Above that, though, the most important reason I'm not out here by myself is prayer. We try to pray together weekly as an office staff, not a "staff meeting" where we are discussing what's going on in the church and office and so forth, but prayer for each other and for the world. We have established an openness and honesty on staff where we can (and do!) support each other prayerfully and that carries over into the ministry. When the church staff is praying for one another, it does great things for the church. I think it's probably the most important thing that can go on behind the scenes in a church.

2009-12-26T21:50:00.000-05:00

Christmas Morning in the Vinson House

If a picture is worth a thousand words, you've just been given a six thousand word essay.

2009-12-25T15:30:00.000-05:00

Christmas Eve Services

This was the scene at our Christmas Eve services last night. Our kids were the "acolytes" who lit the candles before the (second) service at 7:30 They were so proud of themselves. Andrew really wanted to pass the offering plates, too, as you can probably see from the photo.

They were very serious in their trip down the aisle with the light of Christ.

Right up onto the stage they marched, ready to light the candles.

They only needed a little help from dad.

Here is Andrew, hoping that he will get to collect the offering. He had already been practicing lighting the candles over and over again and was super excited to get to do it!

Merry Christmas, from our family to yours! We hope the joy of Christ's birth is renewed in you this holiday season and throughout the new year!

2009-12-22T08:54:00.000-05:00

Wondering What to Say?

I had one of those nights last night. One where I woke up in the middle of the night, stressed about getting everything that's on my plate done. I won't bore you with all of the details of things I need to do, because I'm sure most of you are or have been in the same boat. But one detail is pertinent: I'd been struggling with what to preach on Christmas Eve.

I'm sure I'm not the only one; many (if not most?) pastors struggle to say something unique and relevant on Christmas Eve and Easter. We want to figure out new and fresh ways at Christmas to tell of the birth of Jesus Christ and at Easter to tell of His resurrection.

Yesterday I was puzzling over a sermon that just would not write itself. I had come up with what I thought was a really good idea (which I'm still going to stick into my "idea bank" to preach another time) but it just wasn't coming along at all.

This morning in my prayers, I asked God to help me know what I should preach. As I prayed, the sermon idea immediately came into my head. Of course, about 180 degrees away from what I'd already been struggling to write.

Then when I opened my igoogle homepage this morning (that's a page that has all of my Google applications all in one place; my Google Reader (blog reader), my gmail, weather, news, etc), the first item on my reader was a blog post by Perry Noble.

In it, he was talking about how his little daughter repeats everything he says. Then he wrote this:

Hey pastor…are you stressing out about what you are going to say for your upcoming Christmas service?

Why not just do what my little girl does…just listen to your Father and then repeat what He says!

What a great reminder.

2009-12-21T08:12:00.000-05:00

Jonathan Lost a Tooth!