Where I Belong

Ah, the island life.  Sabbath morning, April 12, 2014, Saipan

From a computer journal entry during our mission to Saipan this past spring:

 Wednesday, April 16, 2014

We’re just past the midway point of our time in Saipan.  Three more days and then we begin the long journey back to Columbus.  Can’t really say back home because this. . .this feels like home.  We’ve fallen into a routine of sorts.  It’s not the routine I would have chosen but it is a routine nonetheless.  Mornings start early.  Elijah has not managed to conquer jet lag and is often up between 3 and 4 A.M. every day.  He gets drowsy at lunch, maybe takes a too-short afternoon nap and then falls asleep at supper.  He’s out for the night after that, never really waking up until early the next morning. Babs and I tend to get up early also, usually by 5 or so.  She’s been working on projects for the school and I am usually working on fleshing out the morning’s week of prayer message.  By seven I’m rushing off to the school.  I attend staff worship and then spend the last 30 minutes working over my presentation.  From 8 to 9 is week of prayer and then stories with the pre-school.  Elijah and I do our skits and the kids love it.  Then we seem to mill around the school for a bit.  The boys playing on the playground while Barbara works on school stuff and I try to grab some precious internet time.  Then it’s off to the Piersons for a playdate until lunch when invariably we’ve got some friends to meet.  Virle on Monday, the Kosacks yesterday, and the Quinns today.  Then it’s back home for a quick nap and some beach time (though this time we got back so late from the Quinns that we decided to forgo the beach time for a nap instead).  Then it’s out for dinner.  Michelle and Danielle on Monday at Coffee Care.  Last night with Nei and Myla at the Shack.  Tonight we’re at the Pierson’s house. 

Home is where we belong, where we feel most comfortable, where we feel most free to be ourselves.  Of course home is where the heart is, so where friends and family are most often define home for us.  But there's another dimension to home as well, a more geographic sense of belonging.  For some of us there are particular places, particular climates, particular ways of living that just fit.  For some it's the small town or life on the farm.  For others it's big city living.  Some just need to live where it snows.  I met a woman on the flight back from Hawaii, who was born and raised in Hawaii but has lived in Montana for the past 37 years.  Why?  I'm sure there are many reasons but what she told me is that she just loves to drive for hours and hours, and the wide open spaces of Big Sky Country give her that.

As for me, while I politely nodded and smiled, I was thinking: "Are you out of your mind?  Why would you ever leave Hawaii for Montana."

One thing the two big trips I've taken in the last two months have made abundantly clear is that I know where I belong:  the islands.  It's hard to describe the deep sense of belonging, of being at home that I felt during the eleven years I lived in Saipan, and on the return visits since we moved away.  I felt it again last week in Hawaii.  Island life is the life for me.

A few"love-hates" that explain why island living is the perfect fit for me:

A typical island gathering.  How many different cultures can you pick out in this room?  Friday night TGIS at the Maycocks, Saipan, April 18, 2014.

I love the melange of cultures that seem to make up the islands I know.  From my ancestral home of Trinidad (which I've never visited--a situation that really needs be corrected) with it's vivid mix of people of African, Caucasian, Chinese, and Indian descent to Hawaii's multi-Asian diaspora to Saipan's unique location as a crossroads of the Pacific, with even the indigenous Chamorro marked by history ethnic and cultural intermingling, the islands seem to particularly favorable to mixing things up.  I loved that in Saipan our multi-racial family was not the curious exception but the unremarkable rule.  

This is the only white stuff I want to see.  I'll take  blue water and white sand over water frozen white and fingers blue from the cold any day.  Managaha Island, Saipan, Friday, April 18, 2014

I hate the cold. Let me clear, when I talk about the islands I'm not talking about the Aleutians. I could banish winter forever and never miss it.  If I ever found I had to have snow, a trip to a winter clime like our friends the Quinns do each year would suffice.

I love the easy-going pace of life. In Saipan, the highest speed limit is 40 (maybe 45) miles per hour on a stretch of four-lane road heading out towards San Roque.  The rule seems to be 5 under rather than 5 over and you'll get the middle finger (usually in speed bump heavy residential neighborhoods) for going too fast, not too slow.  Island time is what it's all about.  "It's fine. You're in Hawaii. We all can relax."  my former student Cui Xian Xian soothed in a text message replying to some mainland-style concern I had about scheduling during our class trip last week.  And something feels so right about the island uniform of zorries, shorts, and a t-shirt, where even bankers and politicians keep it casual with muted Aloha shirts and khakis.  Ties are for lawyers going to court and those ever faithful Mormon missionaries (though my LDS friends that actually live in the islands dress down as much as anyone else).

The truth is I hate driving. Road trips are great and all, but those can be done on summer trips to the Mainland.  Daily driving out of necessity, on the other hand, I can do without.  If I want to do some serious hiking here in Ohio, it's gonna be an hour or more out the Hocking Hills.  And heaven help me if I fee like going to the beach. I like that in the islands, there is so much to do and you can get to it all without having to drive for hours.  And when its time to leave the island, these days there's usually only one way out--by plane. And I love flying.

Make no mistake, I don't have any romantic notions about life in the islands. I understand that when you're not on vacation, it's pretty much like Ohio or Wisconsion or California or New York.  It's work, family obligations, tight budgets, church, the usual stuff of life in the Western world early in the 21st century.  My week in Saipan wasn't all nonstop spiritual mountaintop mission moments and beach bumming.  I spent time going to the bank, the grocery store, the post office and  filing taxes.  But to live that sometimes hum-drum day-to-day on island, with the backdrop of magnifcient sunsets across the water on the late commute home, to have a free fun day for the budget-conscious family at a white sand beach, to worship in a place like this:

One of my students meditating in the sanctuary of my favorite church on the planet, the Kailua Seventh-day Adventist Church. Sabbath, May 31, 2014

How could anyone not want a life like that?  And yet I'm finding that many people don't.  

A lot of people talk a big game about running away to the islands. My cousin William used to swear every time I saw him during our Saipan years that he was ready to drop out of the rat race and join me in paradise. But the thing is, if you really want to do it, you can.  Last week,a couple of my 8th graders talked about wanting to move to Hawaii when they were older and I told them--it's totally possible.  Yet many people believe--maybe need to believe--it's a dream, a fantasy.  For many the islands are where you go on vacation, but you'd never want to live there.  The heat, the claustrophobia, the lack of "big-city" culture, the distance from loved ones back on the Mainland?  Grocery stores missing basic items like ricotta cheese?Humbler homes than what you might live in the states?   No, thank you.  During our time in Saipan we saw so many people come and go.  Some hated it, barely survived whatever commitment they'd made to being there (if they could make it that long) and hustled back to the so-called real world as quickly as they could.  Others liked it well enough,  and were sad to leave at the end of their year or two or five, but there was never any question about their leaving.  Home was somewhere else.  Indeed I find there aren't many people who really are cut out for island life (besides those for whom the island is their literal cultural and geographic home).   But we are.  And that's why I believe that someday we will return.  That was the big question  when we were in Saipan.  Are you coming back?  And there more I think about it the more I think the answer is yes. . .someday.  Now is not the time, but I believe the time will come.  We have not only the desire but the responsibility to go back because we can both do it and love it, and there's not many that can.

For now, I like to think of ourselves like rich folk.  You know how the super-wealthy have multiple homes?  Well, I feel like we have two homes too--one in the islands and one here in Ohio. One second thought, make that three.  I haven't been to the third Home yet, but I can't help feeling that it's going to be at least a little bit like living in the islands.

Trip of a Lifetime

The five eighth grade students who took the life-changing trip of a lifetime to Hawaii.  (This photo was taken on Sunday, June 1, 2014 at what I believe is the Halona Blow Hole on the southern end of Oahu, Hawaii)

Yesterday I returned from the second impossible trip of this year.  The Saipan trip still hasn't been fully recapped on these pages (though I promise, the rest of the posts on that epic trip are coming. . .and soon), and I now have a series of entries lined up on another trip that seemed a like a fantasy at first--but became a life-changing reality nonetheless:  The CAA 8th grade class trip to Hawaii.

This was truly the trip of a lifetime.  It took me awhile to really get that.  I've been to Hawaii so many times that while it's never lost it's allure, it feels very familiar to me. But as my students and I hustled to raise the funds for the trip, as we answered the standard "So where are you going on the class trip" and witnessed the surprise, awe, and on occasion barely concealed, almost hostile jealousy it began to dawn on me that this was no ordinary 8th grade class trip.  We were planning to take a trip that many people dream of their entire lives, a trip that they may never have the chance to take.  For many Americans the 50th state is almost a fantasy, a place you may visit once in your life (for a honeymoon or an anniversary) and maybe never again.

In a sense, this trip brought me back to what had always been the vision I'd had for class trips back in Saipan; to take kids to a place most of them had never been and might not have the chance to see again.  I wanted the students to have an experience of a lifetime, not just a few days of fun or a few days of museum visits, but an exposure to a new and different world, an experience that would be both fun and deeply educational, one that would help them see the world in a whole new way.  I believe we accomplished that with this journey to Hawaii.  And we accomplished something else I hadn't quite anticipated.  This trip may have been life-changing as well. The students realized that this was not merely a neat place they visited, but a place they could one day live, if they wanted to.  It was so inspiring to see the students realize that the world was a whole lot bigger than they thought, and that their options for a life well-lived were far greater than they had imagined.

I've never been inclined to "standardize" my class trips, so that each year we go to the same place and do the same things.  I realize that for larger schools this is a practical necessity.  But I've been blessed to teach in small schools with lean, nimble classes that could plan a different, unique trip every year. But if there were ever a destination I'd consider standardizing, Hawaii would have to be it.  I want every 8th grade class I teach to have this life-changing, eye-opening, mind-expanding, unforgettable, beautiful trip of a lifetime:

Well,that's it 8th grade trip is finished I had so much fun in Honolulu/Hawaii I can't believe I saw fish swimming around me I was so amazed of what I saw, I'm going 2 miss all my 8th graders that went on the trip and those who didn't, I had do much fun with every single one of them, and I'm happy that I got 2go 2 Honolulu and I'm just so happy, and now as we move on to,high school I will never forget this trip of a life time and I will never forget the fun I had and also I will never forget my friends, god bless you all amen
                           --Facebook status update by one of my students, as he reflects back on his class trip.

In the coming weeks keep an eye out for the a series of blogs that will capture this amazing adventure we shared in Hawaii.

Gideon Moments: The Mission and Ministry in Saipan

I took this photo while working on my Sabbath morning sermon--on Sabbath morning!  In place of my missing journal I wrote down my sermon notes in some empty pages of my planner.  God really blessed because the message of that sermon--about trusting God when you don't see away forward has become so fitting to my life, particularly in the weeks since we've returned from Saipan.

From what would have been my paper and pen journal--only if I'd had my paper and pen journal I would not have written much of what you see here.  This was typed on my laptop during the Chicago to Narita leg of our 27.5 hour journey to Saipan.

Friday, April 11, 2014, in the air en route to Narita, Japan. (12:42 A.M. EST)

I've begun this epic journey, the return to the touchstone of our adult lives, this mission to Saipan as off balance and emotionally disoriented as it’s possible to feel. 

[What followed was a lengthy reflection on some recent events  in my professional life, including some key events that had taken place just the three days prior to our departure.  A lot was weighing on my mind.  After unpacking all that I continued as follows] 

To add to this unsettled feeling is that fact that I’m typing this journal entry.  Typing because I have nothing to write in because I lost my journal on the flight from Columbus to Chicago today.  The journal contained all my notes for my week of prayer talks next week (not to mention the irreplaceable documentation of my life for the last six months or so).  Suddenly I have nothing ready for my main responsibility in Saipan this coming week.  Apparently God has seen fit for me to completely rely on Him for what He’s called me to do.  And right now I don’t even know what that means.  Should I be spending these precious hours now that boys are finally asleep frantically (or more spiritually, solemnly) reading the Bible and praying so that God can give me a new message.  Or do I just go forward and believe that when the time comes I’ll be given the words.  One feels like manipulation, the other like presumption.  Not only do I no longer have the materials I prepared but I don’t even know how to trust God to get me through.

The trip I had planned is not the one that I’m having, at least so far.  And right now I’m not quite sure what that means.  If what I had planned can be so easily taken from me, it makes me wonder if I dare plan anything at all.  And to go into this week with little or no plan is depressing to me.  I take literal joy in planning.  It’s the planning itself, that is so rewarding to me, even more so than whether the plan pans out.  So I plan.  It’s what I do.  But I commit to keeping it loose, being open to the Spirit.

The story of Gideon is on my mind a lot right now.  I think it will be the focus of my talk for the church youth group tomorrow evening at their post-hike vespers.  In Gideon we have the story of a man who struggled to really trust and believe God, a man who thought he knew how God was going to work through Him and found that what he had in mind and what God had in mind were totally different things.

What’s the plan?  When do you do when you think you now what God is doing and find out—repeatedly-that His plan is more audacious and more risky than anything you could have imagined?

By the time we landed on Saipan I had re-sketched out on my laptop as best I could recall the outline of the topics I would speak about. The theme for the week was "Jesus Cares" and each day had a topic (chosen with the help of one of my more challenging students at CAA, who several weeks earlier, while sitting with me in a teacher-enforced timeout, shared with me the four things that really mattered to him--basketball, school, family, and his future.  They became my topics for each day of the Week of Prayer.  I figured that what really mattered to this young man might matter to a lot of other kids as well.)  The message was that Jesus cares about us, and thus, about each of the those things that matter to us.  Each day's talk had a story, a message, and a scripture.  Storytelling is one of my strengths so that was the centerpiece of each day, with the idea that the story would drive home the message.  There were substantial holes still though--I had no story for Wednesday or Thursday, no scripture for Monday, a hazy message for Tuesday.  I also had a message theme for the sermon on Sabbath, "Trusting in God when the Lights Go Out" but no sermon notes yet.  What I did have was a pretty clear idea of what I would say--thanks to my missing journal--for the Sabbath evening vespers just 14 hours or so from our arrival on Saipan.  

Sunday morning,  April 13 Babs and I met up Sharon Nguyen, the principal of the Saipan SDA School and she took us on a lovely tour of the school property and campus, ending here in the auditorium where I would be speaking throughout the coming week.  I only just now noticed perfectly appropriate banner posted above me.

Here's a selection from my typed-out journal from Monday morning, April 14:

Here am I.  Monday morning, the first day of the reason I’m here.  To be the vessel through which God reaches down and touches the hearts of these kids and brings them into a real and meaningful relationship with Him.  The thought that has kept running through my head during this time of preparation is “What do I need to do to ensure that I receive the message from God.”  Prayer is obvious. . .but did I pray enough?  Should I have my own personal devotions first….after all how can God use me if I haven’t even bothered to spend time with Him for my own personal growth and connection but instead am just using the time to get what I need for my talk today.  But then, if I’m having personal devotions just so that I can be in the right place to receive what He has for me, then it isn't really the same as not having devotions—except worse because I am being disingenuous about it?  There is the temptation to try to make God work for me and I realize that right now He is calling me simply to trust.  He brought me out here,  He chose not to bring back my journal, He will work it out.  There is no need to put Him to the test, or go through the  motions to “get Him” to do what I need Him to do.

And after the service was over:

So it went well.  My only downside was that I completely forgot the theme scripture which is such a crucial part of the meeting.  How can you have a Week of Prayer and not even mention God’s Word?  But then again, I asked the Holy Spirit to be there.  I trust that He was and that He did what was needed.  The story was well received. And the skit Elijah and I did went quite well.  So I’m grateful.

And that was how things would go for the remainder of our week in Saipan--God would give me the details just before each day's talk, and His grace was always more than sufficient.

The outline for the Saipan SDA School Week of Prayer (and other speaking engagements). It would have been great to say I had this outline done in advance, and I guess I sort of did before my journal was lost, but the truth is I built this whole outline today, as part of preparing this blog entry.

Sabbath, April 12, 2014:

Sundown Vespers

Gideon Moments.  The Story: Losing my Journal/Gideon's Battle against the Midianites.  

The Message: Trusting in God when the plan keeps changing and the new plan seems impossible. 

The Scripture: Judges 7

Talking to the AY group for vespers after our hike to the Second Grotto

Monday, April 14, 2014: 

Week of Prayer Talk: 

Basketball.  The Story: The Sarah Season (the big reveal at the end of this inspiring story of a five-man basketball team that went all the way to the league championships motivated by the one of their schoolmates who'd died suddenly during the school year was that the team was from my audience's own school, Saipan SDA School and that the championship game had been played right on their own campus--though at the time, the campus belonged to another school!).  Read the full story, with pictures here in a blog entry I wrote just after we moved away from Saipan.

The Message:  Does Jesus care who wins a basketball game?  Maybe not but he cares about the people who play--on both teams, and he cares about everything that matters to us from something small like a basketball game to something huge like the loss of a loved one.  

Scripture (which I forgot to use on the first day!): Psalm 139, the theme scripture for the week.

Delivering the message. The first day of Week of Prayer, Monday, April 14.

Pre-school Storytime (Skit with Elijah)

Story: Noah's Ark (Elijah played the Voice of God, Noah's son Shem, and various animals entering the ark; I played Noah)

Message: Jesus is with us when we are scared

At the end of the story the kids got to take turns acting out different animals and we would guess what they were.  The lion was a very popular choice.

Elijah and I acting out Noah's Ark: Here Noah directs one of the animals on to the ark

The elephant!

The lion! Very scary!  The kids loved it and when it was their turn they all wanted to be lions!

Scared on the ark.  We did each story twice each day, once for the toddler class pictured above and again for the preschool class.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Week of Prayer Talk

School.  The Story: Alpo (I warned the audience at the start that this story did not have a happy ending. It's a hard-hitting true story of one of the more shameful chapters in my life--my class's harsh treatment of a new student who came to our school when I was in the eighth grade.  He was admittedly difficult--he wanted to be friends, he just didn't know how.  And we--well, especially me-- used that as excuse enough to gang up on him. He lasted just a few months before transferring to another school and I never saw him again.  I ended up with this school-themed retelling of the sheep and the goats (inspired by the great Keith Green's own retelling).  

The Message: Jesus cares about our experiences in school and He especially cares about those who are struggling in their school experience--and we should too.

The Scripture:  Matthew 25:31-46

Pre-school Storytime (Skit with Elijah)

Story: Joshua and the Battle of Jericho (I played the voice of God and the wall, Elijah played Joshua. Kids from the audience joined as members of the army marching around the wall)

Message: Jesus helps us to be patient and wait

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Week of Prayer Talk

Family.  The Story:  Lucky/Team Hoyt (I talked about my mom and the childish gripes I had when I was a kid/teenager and how in hindsight the very things I griped about were blessings.  I then segued into the story of Dick and Rick Hoyt, culimanting in the powerful I Can video about this amazing father-son racing team).

The Message: Jesus cares about what we are going through in our families whether we feel lucky or not. And no matter what our family situation is, we all have a Father who cares and who will carry us through.

Scripture: Isaiah 40:28-31

Pre-school Storytime (Skit with Elijah)

Story: Jonah and the Fish (I played the Voice of God and the great fish, Elijah played Jonah, and audience volunteers were the sailors that threw Jonah overboard

Message:  Jesus is always willing to give us a a second chance when we do wrong

Jonah and the sailors on the ship to Tarshish

Here comes the storm!

Jonah gets thrown overboard

The fish chases Jonah.  When I caught him, placed the black cardboard over Elijah to represent him being inside the fish.

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Week of Prayer Talk

The Future.  The Story: Lost ( I told the story of my friend Grant and I getting lost in the wilds of the Saipan boonies, augmented a PowerPoint slide show of photos from the actual adventure.  In hindsight, I would maybe not have used the PowerPoint as I felt like it interrupted the flow of the storytelling. It would have been better to show the pictures after the story was over.  But it still went fine. I just really don't believe in PowerPoint as a sermon tool, like, ever.) You can read my original telling of this adventure on this blog back in 2006 here.

Message: Jesus cares about our futures and if we follow Him we'll never get lost.

Scripture: Jeremiah 29:11

Thursday,  April 17, my last Week of Prayer talk.  I spent the rest of the school day subbing in the classroom for a teacher that was out that day.

Pre-school Storytime (Skit with Elijah, Babs, and Ezra)

Story: The Birth of Jesus (Elijah played the angel, I played Joseph, Babs played Mary and Ezra played Baby Jesus).

Message: Just as Jesus came as a small baby, Jesus can help us live for Him even if we are very small

Friday, April 18, 2014

TGIS Vespers Worship Thought:  

Is It Well With You?

Message:  Gatherings like this are what life is all about.  If we would have more gatherings like this we need to keep Jesus number one in our lives.  

Scripture: 1 Timothy 6: 6-18

TGIS worship at the apartment where we were staying.  Hoping to meet with this group again if not on the temporal paradise of Saipan, then in the Eternal Paradise to come.

Sabbath, April 19, 2014

Sermon at Saipan Central Seventh-day Adventist Church

Message Title:  Trusting in God when the lights go out.  The message was you don't know Jesus is all you need until Jesus is all you have.  I wish I'd seen that great quote posted on Facebook before my sermon.  It said so eloquently what I tried to say in my sermon.

Scripture: Isaiah 43:2

Sabbath morning sermon.  April 19, 2014

Evening Vespers at Mt. Tapochau

Barbara took the speaking duties this time and shared from the heart about her journey with God in moving the school to a new campus and the miracles he worked to bring her dream to reality after we left Saipan.  It was a truly moving testimony!  Read the miraculous account here.

Babs and I on Mt. Tapochau just before her beautiful testimony of God's leading for sundown worship on our last day in Saipan, Sabbath, April 19, 2014.

The mountaintop.  Mt. Tapochau, Sabbath evening, April 19 at the end of a week of what was by God's grace fruitful ministry. It didn't happen the way I planned, but I trust that it happened the way He planned.

Pass/Fail: The Sheep and the Goats (RSV-Revised School Version)

I developed this "revised" version of Jesus' classic sheep and the goats parable in Matthew 25:31-46 for one of my week of prayer talks on our mission to Saipan last month.  It is inspired by the fantastic retelling by Keith Green.  You can watch the video at the end.  It's about eight minutes long, but well worth the time, I think.

But when the son of Man comes in His glory and all the angels with Him, then he will sit on his glorious throne and all the schools will be gathered before Him and he will separate them one from another as the teacher separates those who will pass from those who will fail.  And he will put the passing students on his right and the failing students on his left. 

Then the King will say to those on His right, “Come you blessed of my Father inherit the kingdom prepared for you for you from the foundation of the world.  For I was hungry and you shared your lunch with Me. I fell down and you didn't laugh at me and instead helped me up.  I was a new kid and you invited me to play with you.  I was weird and the other kids made fun of me and you stood up for me.  I was annoying and you were patient with me.  I didn't understand how to do the homework and you helped me.

 The righteous will answer Him saying, Lord when did we see You hungry and share our lunch with you and when did You fall down and we helped you up.  And when were you the new kid and we invited you to play with us—I mean we invited everyone but I know we’d never forget that face.  And when were you weird and we stood up for you.  I mean that doesn't even seem right to say. Holy, Awesome, Majestic, but weird.  . .Lord, that couldn't have been you.  And when were you annoying or have trouble with Your homework and we helped you?

And the King will answer them saying, “Truly I say to you to the extent that you did it to even one of these brothers of mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me."

Then he will say to those on His left. “You thought detention was bad? Depart from me accursed ones, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.  For I was hungry and you shared nothing with me.  I fell down and you mocked me.  I was new in school and you ignored me because it was easier to just hang out with the people you were already comfortable with.  I was weird and when the other kids bullied me, you did nothing.  You were mean to me because you thought I deserved it for being annoying and you did not help me with my homework."

Then they themselves also will answer saying "Lord,  when did we see you hungry, Lord.  Are you hungry now?  Someone want to run out and get the Lord a hamburger and a coke?  And when did you fall down and we didn't pick you up. Lord, I’m sorry.  I don’t remember that.  I mean there was this one kid, and it was so funny. [snicker,snicker, snort,snort]  Sorry, sorry.  Was that You? Oh, Lord I didn't know.  And when were you a new kid?  Lord you know how it is. . . .And when were you weird or annoying.  That’s not fair.  We didn't expect you to be like that!  And Lord one more thing.  When did you ever need help with Homework? I thought you knew everything!"

Then He will answer them saying, “Truly I say to you , to the extent that you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to Me.”

And these will go away into eternal punishment but the righteous into eternal life.

Putting the Fun in Fundraising

It's hard to believe that exactly one month ago we were back at the place we called home for eleven years--the island of Saipan. And it's all because of the most thrilling--and even enjoyable--fundraising campaign I've ever done.

The truth is I've always hated fundraising. Which is ironic because I've spent much of my adult life engaged in some type of fundraising activity.  There always seemed to be a reason to pass the hat around--8th grade class trips and drama tours have been annual events and we always need help to make those events happen.  Selling hot lunches and snacks or holding car washes was easy enough, though often stressful because I never knew how much we were going to make and the return was usually small per event compared with the thousands we were usually looking to raise.  The most effective means of fundraising was also the one I dreaded the most: direct solicitation.  The letter writing campaign became the backbone of our funding for REAL Christian Theater for years when were in Saipan.  I had about twenty people who were regular supporters of the team.  I solicited them once way back in 2002 and then for the next seven years simply kept sending them quarterly newsletter updates on the troupe, always with an enclosed self-addressed stamped envelope as a gentle reminder.  And they came through, year after year sending hundreds individually and thousands in total.  That support team made REAL Christian Theater possible.  One donor, Dr. Vernon Luthas, even went further, making it his personal mission to raise funds for us to have our own sound system to take with us on tour.  What a blessing it was!  I came to feel that rather than merely asking for something from my donors, I was offering them the opportunity to be a part of something truly special.  To  me they really were more than just sources of money, but actual partners in ministry.

In Saipan, the 8th grade class used to sell snacks, mostly purchased from Costco from the counter in the lunchroom.  Now at CAA we have the snack cart, a rolling bounty of goodies regularly stocked from the shelves of Sam's Club

This will look familiar to any of my former 8th grade students from 2007 onward.  We started the all important inventory after we realized we were losing a lot of money from what's known in the retail business as "shrink."  Product and even cash somehow wandering away, often sad to say, with the help of the very people who were raising the funds!  The inventory helped cut down on shrink and the students who used the inventory experienced record-breaking fundraising years.

Still fundraising has remained difficult for me.  I always feared I might be bothering potential donors--after all people put up those "No soliciting" signs for a reason right?  And I feared the dreaded "no".  Nobody likes rejection and in asking for funds I was setting my self up for that awful feeling of being refused.  Still real monetary needs always seem to be at hand so I've pushed through my fears and kept writing those letters, kept asking, kept trying.

There are a couple of things I've kept in mind that have made fundraising, if not exactly fun, at least bearable over the years.  These principles guided me in this most recent push for the Saipan trip as well.  And just as the amount of money I had to raise and the short time frame I had to do it in made this fundraising effort the most daunting ever, the principles that have always guided my fundraising were also magnified.

I always ask myself how I would feel if I were solicited.  This always helps boost my courage because I never mind being asked, even if I'm unable to give.  I often have this irrational vision of people from whom I solicit support becoming enraged at my temerity in even asking.  I remind myself that this has pretty much never happened, and that in fact most people are like me.  Unoffended by the request and often wanting to help.  Granted I know there are those who feel "pressured"when solicited but I think that comes more from a feeling that they must give to every request and thus feel aggravated when it seems that there's always someone raising money for something.  I often want to give to every request that comes my way but I don't feel guilty if I am unable to do so.  As such the requests don't bother me.  I like to think most people feel the same way.

When it came to raising funds for our mission trip to Saipan this was easy.  I thought of all the people we came to love from our time in Saipan; people who like us have left their island home for a more ordinary life here in the States and I knew that I would joyfully lend my support to help any one of them return "home."  I trusted many would feel the same about me--and they did!

I don't take it personally--whether people give or not.  I've received donations from people who I barely know and never received donations from some of my closest friends and family.  Either way it's not personal for me.  I don't make someone's giving a referendum on our relationship, nor do I feel that those who give "like me" better than those who don't.  While I always have a deep appreciation and gratitude towards those who do give, I never think any less of those who don't.

With this Go Fund Me campaign, one of the greatest rewards was the connections with people that I made in the process both among those who gave and those who didn't. Much of my individual solicitation was through Facebook messaging and the best thing was when people wrote back.  I was able to reconnect with former students and colleagues, high school and college friends--all kinds of people that I hadn't had regular contact with in years  Often it was people who couldn't give, writing back a regretful explanation.  But those so-called nos became wonderful "catching-up" conversations that meant more to me than any donation.

Our GoFundMe page.  I came across this fundraising website through my good friend Pastor Chris Thompson, who was using it to raise support to fund his PhD program. I found it unbelievably easy to use and gave a little on the spot.  So when it came time to start raising funds for our return to Saipan, GoFundMe seemed like the perfect tool.  I researched the company, confirmed it was legit and set up my own page.  I've been very pleased with the site. It made it easy for me to keep my pitch in the public eye through Facebook and e-mail posts and giving was just a few clicks for our supporters. You do lose a bit on every donation as the GoFundMe does take their cut, but I found by setting my goal a little beyond what I actually needed more than made up for the loss.  I was so happy with our results from the Saipan trip that I set up another one to raise some more funds for this year's 8th grade class trip!

I offer an opportunity; I don't just ask for money.  Throughout the years I've always believed that what I'm fundraising for is something my potential supporters will want to be a part of.  Just as I feel a sense of ownership in organizations as diverse as Adventist Frontier Missions and NPR that I've supported over the years,  I want my supporters to feel like they are part of our project.  So I send them a postcard or a newsletter--something that enables them to see where their money went and how it's being used.

I had a strong sense that I was taking our donors "with us" on this trip.  Each person who added a donation was one more person "going with us" to Saipan.   I determined to share a lot through Facebook on the trip so that our supporters could feel they were experiencing this epic adventure with us.

God sends the money.  Donors are His means of doing so.  This has kept me from the sense of desperation; that any given donor must help.  I know I'm not really depending on any one specific person, so if they are unable to give it's no big deal.  Because one way or another I know God will bring the funds.

This campaign for Saipan has truly felt like a miracle.  Once I signed up for GoFundMe I'd get occasional e-mails from the organization trumpeting this or that person who raised $3000 or $4000 for their cause.  It made me realize who huge my goal really was.  If they were using amounts less than what I was trying to raise as promos in their e-mails (when it's given that the fine print disclaimer "results not typical" generally holds true), how on earth was I going to raise $5000.  The whole thing seemed like an impossibility.  But of course God specializes in the impossible--and by His grace and through the generosity of dozens of giving people the mission to Saipan became a reality.

And when all is said and done, the best thing about fundraising is always how I feel at the end.

Grateful.

Love at First Word

A still from the classic romance Before Sunset

There's a lot of nonsense in movies, and romances have perhaps more than their share.  But not everything one finds in romantic movies is just sentimental wishful thinking.  Is it possible to meet someone and immediately fall in love?  Can immediate attraction and instant chemistry actually predict lasting love?  Only in the movies, some might say.  But that's not been my experience.

Recently I watched the movie Before Sunrise starring Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy.  It really doesn't have much in the way of a plot.  Two strangers meet and walk around picturesque Vienna talking, and in the process falling in love. But the chemistry between the couple is compelling, and the simple tale of love at first sight resonated so strongly with me.  I had two similar experiences in 1995, the year the film was released.  Like Hawke's character I also met a beautiful young woman while traveling in Europe and ended up spending the last night before my travels continued, exploring the city with her (she was Dutch rather than French, and the city was Utrecht in the Netherlands rather than Vienna, Austria).  However, there the similarity ends.  There was no connection, no spark, no future.  Though I had hoped there might be one at the beginning of the evening, by the end of the night I was walking Utrecht's streets alone.  No, the more significant parallel experience happened a few months later in a less exotic setting---the campus of Andrews University in Southwest Michigan.  Once again I met an even more beautiful young woman, and once again we spent hours together talking, only this time their was an immediate and palpable connection.  I fell in love that first night, and well, eighteen years later, I'm in love still.

This is one of my favorite photos of Babs and I from our very earliest years.  I keep this picture on  my desk and it's literally glued to the glass on the picture frame now.  It was taken outside my apartment just a few months after we'd met and started dating.

I think the key to that initial attraction--and what I really connected with in Before Sunrise--was how Babs and I fell so naturally into conversation.  My first thoughts about Barbara, before we even spoke, when I saw her talking with others, was that I wanted to hear what this girl had to say.  She fascinated me.  And once we started talking, we kept going for eleven hours straight! And that connection through conversation remains one of the strongest pillars of our relationship today.  There's still no one I'd rather talk to more, no one I find more interesting.   We talk easily and honestly, and we always have.

I haven't seen the next two films in the Sunrise trilogy, Before Sunset which picks up nine years after the first film, and Before Midnight which is set yet another nine years down the road, though they're next up in my Netflix queue.  I'm not sure how Jess and Celine's story will pan out, but if they're lucky they'll end up like Babs and me, 18 years since we first started talking, and still happily conversing ever after.

Battling Boredom

"Winter is coming":  My oldest stands on The Wall anticipating the coming of some serious cold in the next few days (well actually it's just a mound of snowplowed snow at the end of our building but in his vivid imagination it was a castle.  Never a dull a moment with this guy!)

I wish I could find the special statement released by the National Weather Service last night.  For the moment the NWS abandoned it's usual bland recitation of temperature ranges, wind chills, and predicted snowfalls and indulged in some truly dramatic language, as if the scale of the approaching weather had flustered the meteorologists to the point that they lost some of their usual composure.  The prediction went something along the lines of "the coldest temperatures in twenty years will come sweeping into the region with full force on Monday and Tuesday."

Something about that twenty year gap jogged my memory and I realized that I remembered the last time we experienced winter of this magnitude.  It was almost 20 years ago exactly, the long weekend of Martin Luther King Day, 1994.  I was a 20 year old student at Andrews University in Michigan and it was the worst winter weather I've ever experienced.

Here's I how I reported it in my pen and paper journal from Tuesday, January 18, 1994:

We've been experiencing record low temperatures and absolutely brutal weather. The highs are below zero and with the wind chill factor at negative 40 to 50 and it has been snowing almost continually since Thursday night.  Monday was a holiday anyway but school was closed today and, along with the whole town of Berrien Springs, will be closed tomorrow. 

 The first part of this seven day weekend was spent watching six videos (that must be some sort of record and I felt positively sick afteward), reading three books, and tending to the myriad things that have gone wrong due to the sub-arctic temperatures--the car hasn't started since Sunday night, the hot water pipes to my apartment cracked Saturday night & have yet to be repaired, for awhile the garage door was opening itself, and the door to the garage is stuck shut.  I haven't been out of the apartment since Sunday and I feel I'm going slightly stir crazy particularly now that I've run out of things to do. I finished my last book this morning. . ., my homework last night and I get out to the video store, and besides I don't think I feel like watching any more videos for awhile.  For awhile I was reduced to reading old Reader's Digest until I remembered this book of African-American short stories I got from The Loft. . .

Mostly I just feel tired, mentally, physically, spiritually.  Too much inactivity.

I just now realized that this pretty much describes life before the internet (Or at least before it became ubiquitous. A couple of entries later, I was marveling over getting online for the first time and "talking" with my friend J Carlos at Southern Adventist University via a rudimentary chat room.)  If I'd found myself in similar circumstances today I would have had the entire web at my fingertips.  I would have whiled away the hours on Facebook, binge watching Orange is the New Black on Netflix, and reading all the articles I'd been meaning to get to on Slate.com.

I often tell my students that the last time I was bored was in the winter of 1994 and it's this particular storm I'm referring to.  Today between our smart phones, tablets, and even old-school laptops, I don't know that boredom is even possible anymore.

But maybe that's an overstatement.  I think what I missed most during my isolation while that epic storm raged was human contact.  Who knows if the record-shattering low temps will materialize (already the worst of the snow forecast for tomorrow will likely miss us) but if,  if the whole city does shut down for a few days, I'll won't have to hole up alone this time; I'll have my wife and kids to keep boredom at bay.  As exciting as the internet may be, there's nothing like real human contact to make the passing hours a treasure rather than a chore.

Here in America: Lean Times

Most of my favorite blogs have dwindled over time.  Some post only rarely now, others have stopped posting all together and their blogs have lain dormant for years now.  There are voices that I miss, windows on the world that I enjoyed looking through and whose views enriched my life.  But I get it.  For a lot of reasons, a blog can fade away.  Maybe Facebook becomes an easier way to share your life with friends and family.  Maybe the reason for writing the blog in the first place disappears with a change in residence, work, or philosophy of life.  Perhaps a life change (like getting married or having kids) just makes it hard to keep up with a regular blog anymore.

So, even as I've seen with so many others, I feel like my blog has withered a bit.  I have no intention of shuttering the blog, but I am willing to frankly admit that posts will likely be fewer and farther between for the foreseeable future.  The nature of my life right now simply doesn't allow for the carefully constructed, text and photo heavy posts that have been typical of this blog since I began it more than seven years ago.  I have some ideas about how I might revamp the blog in order to continue posting regularly, but I'm not going to commit to that right now either.  I will simply see how things go.

One thing is certain though.  I've been writing a journal since 1985, and the journal has survived multiple dry seasons through the years.  Given my track record, even as the posts dwindle to the occasional entry here andt there,  Here in America will likely stick around for a good long while to come.

Family Time

A lovely Sabbath afternoon with my older son, coloring next to the pond in our neighborhood

The three of us out for our regular Sabbath afternoon walk.  This was taken in late summer, I think?

On the first day of November 2013 I had to run an errand right after school got out, around 3 in the afternoon.  I was amazed by the gorgeous fall colors along my route and I found myself wondering when this all happened.  It was then that I realized that I hadn’t driven in the daylight in almost a week.  I had been leaving home before sunrise and leaving work after dark, and the changing of the leaves had always been shrouded in darkness.

This is my life right now.  My day begins around 5:30 A.M. when I get up to make breakfast for the family.  By 7:00 A.M. I’m at morning latchkey.  That’s followed by a full teaching day.  The afternoons are full with various extracurricular activities, staff meetings, and tutoring.  I’m doing well if I get home by 7:00 P.M.  The evenings at home are usually busy with planning and grading, running loads of laundry, folding clean clothes, and ironing.  I’m doing really well if I can get to bed by 9:00, but more often I’m going to bed around 10 or later, and getting through the next day on a 32 oz  McDonald’s sweet tea.

Sundays are busy too, with lesson planning, grading, and a couple of hours at Kroger to boot.

It’s not that I just love working.  I’m doing this for my family, and every time Babs sends me photos of her latest trip to the park or library with the boys the work is worth it.

But with all this work for the family sometimes I feel like I barely get to see my family.  So now, more than ever, family time is vital and extra special. 

Three days a week I have Ezra after school until Barbara finishes her shift at the afternoon latchkey program.  Elijah is old enough to be part of the after-school program with the CAA kids, so Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays are my special time with my second son.  He occupies himself in the playpen while I do a few after school tasks, we go to the store together to buy supplies for the 8^th grade, and sometimes we just hang out together.   While sometimes I wish I could just focus on school tasks during that time, I also know that this is irreplaceable time with my younger son and I try to treasure it.

Elijah and I also have some special time together every day too (at least in theory—lately it seems we miss this time more often than not because either he or I or both of us get home too late in the evening).  While Barbara is putting Ezra down, we sit in Elijah’s oversized easy chair in his room and read stories together.  Sometimes he wants to color or play a game so we’ll do that instead.  It’s only 15 or 20 minutes before Babs comes in and it’s time for bedtime prayers, icy water, and his cozy time with mommy, but it’s probably my favorite part of every day.

The Sabbath hours constitute the bulk of our family time.  Recently we’ve started a Friday night tradition.  We have a short worship to welcome the Sabbath and then color together as a family.  Truthfully, we’ve only done it three times so far as various Friday evening appointments—dinner at a colleagues house, practice for the children’s church program—have interfered.  But those two nights were wonderfully peaceful:  the three of us coloring in a selection of Elijah’s favorite Bible themed coloring books while Ezra played happily nearby and Twila Paris’ Sanctuary gently serenading us in the background.

These photos were taken just last night...our first such Friday night family since October.

 

A page I completed on an earlier Friday night

 Sabbath afternoon is the other chunk of family time during the weekend.  After a late lunch, Babs will take her afternoon nap while I take the boys.  Our usual practice is to take a walk.  We are blessed with lots of grassy space and even wooded areas to walk in our neighborhood. 

We call this our secret place.  Naturally, I can't tell you where it is, but it is walking distance from where we live.

Fall fun!

We came upon this black water snake while walking on a Sabbath afternoon in late summer

 On rainy days we might choose to stay in and build one of the pieces of Elijah’s City Lego set that his “godmomma” Carol Paez sent him.

While rain might keep us inside, snow demands a Sabbath walk! This photo was taken just today. Note our totally cool unfinished igloo/snow fort that we built on the right.

Of course, a crucial part of keeping the family happy is having time for just Babs and me.  And that’s what Saturday night is for.  Most Saturday nights consist of a hot date on the couch, eating bean dip and watching an episode or two of Mad Men.  With a life as busy as ours, those hours for just the two of us are as nice as any fancy dinner date.

The work is needed to keep the family fed, clothed, and sheltered, but the family time is necessary to feed our spirits and shelter our hearts.  After all, the years will fly by all too quickly, and when we look back we may regret that we had to work as much as we did, but we’ll never regret those special family times together.