Beyond my cognitive ablities

Moving has introduced me to a new communities and one of those are the folks who run in Visalia. They are fewer than the Dallas folks who I joined at White Rock every Saturday for years. They run faster and longer. This past weekend, two folks I know ran the Javelina Jundred. That is a 100 mile race. Now, this ain't no marathon it is 100 miles. To the left is Marcia who is sporting a devil costume, because the JJ has costume contest to go with the race. I figure, you get beyond a marathon and folks can do anything they want. Behind her is a more traditional ultra runner.

It is pretty incredible. One guy told me all you have to do is run 5mph for 24 hours. It sounds simple and I guess that is a way to get my head around it. However, after 20 miles in Chicago...I thought, no ultra in this body. Who knows?

I got other friends who moved from the 5K to the marathon and are now beyond the marathon. They may coax over the threshold. So, as we were chatting one early morning. The 100 miler is now the new marathon. Everybody is doing them.

Stepping into 3

"Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to God as we understood him."

Those words are brutal words and probably the most hopeful words ever uttered.

To turn our will and our lives over to God.

Do you know how hard that is for me? For me, I will only speak of my experience, this step in life is critical and crucial. As I am starting to plant a new church, I must get out of my own way and let God work through me.

Earlier this week, I had come to the conclusion that I was using food to handle anxiety. That is not healthy. I was seeking comfort or pleasure from food. I was not trusting that God would take care of me. I had been heading down that path for awhile, but I decided that I needed to stop. Earlier this month, I had a diabetes scare and found out that everything was alright. However, I do have elevated cholesterol. I workout three to four times a week, my cholesterol should not be that high. So, I need to change my diet. However, that is hard to do when food is not fuel but a tool and means for handling anxiety. So, I just said to God, "This hunger that I feel is really about my hunger for you. I will seek you." It has been hard but in two days I feel healthier. That is good. I am not going to get into the details of how. I am not sure how, but I keep knowing that my hunger pangs are mostly hunger pangs for the divine.

As a church planter, I must rely heavily upon God to do it. I must conform my will to His will. I must trust that God will use me. At times there are moments of self doubt, but I work through this step daily to remember that I must turn my will and life over to God.

Working on Step 3, that is where I am. I don't progress beyond this step...I stay here and do it everyday.

Your will, not mine.
Your will, not mine.

Sometime in the midst of those words, I began to quit trusting myself and trusting God. It seems so foolish to say this that is hard. Do I trust that God will get me through? I only do that by moving into those places of discomfort and realizing that God is there with me. I really wish the gospel was not about salvation but comfort. Yeah, but we all would be numb and bloated.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Ministry why?

I think one of the things I have learned is that why do I want to be a minister. One thing is that I really like people and when I trust myself and not give into fear...it is much better. There are those fears of insecurity rumbling inside me. So, I must constantly be vigilant on trusting God and myself.

The key to me is that I believe that Jesus has the power to transform lives. Why? My own life has been transformed. Not transformed at baptism, but transformed later. It took awhile before I allowed myself to experience grace and forgiveness.

Where has that transformation taken place in my life. The shame and dread that isolated me from family and friends and the self loathing that kept me from hearing from people who loved me, friends, family, and acquaintances that I had gifts to share is gone. Not because I thought good about myself. Not that I heard the stories of Jesus' love. No, when I finally believed them and allowed them to rumble in my bowels (good Hebrew word) that was when I was able to see that I am a child of God and my sin was not so great that God could not forgive me. My seperation from my God could only be breached by Jesus who connected with me God. A God who loves me and that allowed me to trust God, myself, and others. It allowed me to connect.

My task in life is to help people get connected. First with God, then with themselves, and then with others.

I know you believe that God loves you...but do you live like an agnostic? Do you live like God hates you? If you do...I pray that you will hear the words of grace and that you feel that love that is found in a god who leaves heaven to come to earth to be with you.

Losing my daytimer

Last week, I lost my day planner. I had gone the way of Franklin Covey and tried to organize and focus my life. Since graduating from seminary, I had tried many paths to organization. In Seminary, my uncle gave me a Day Runner that has been very useful, but it was a little too small. So, I looked a day planner that used 8 1/2 x 11 paper. That was too huge. Then I went electronic using a Palm. The Palm was laborious. Then I used Outlook that was like the palm, but a little easier to use. However, it kept my day planning tied to the computer. Then I had my computer stolen or I had to reformat the C: drive. So, I went for a couple of years without any real organization.

Then in the summer, I decided that I was going to need a better mode of organization. I decided that I was an old school person, I needed paper. I bought "7 Habits for Highly Effective People" to get the philosophy about this program. I agreed with a great deal of it. Created a mission statement and bought into the system. I bought the year of daily planning pages, put all my information into the my day planner, and I had decided to use the Classic size. A little too bulky, but large enough to get the information. I lost the day planner last week in Costco. I was loading groceries and forgot my day planner in the grocery cart

This really sucks. So, I went to Depot de Office and bought another simulated leather binder and am beginning another attempt. I was asked how my week was at church and this moment of losing my day planner tops the week's memories. I think part of my frustration is that losing a day planner is a reminder how finite my organization skills are. How scattered brain that I can be and a great way for shame to creep in. That voice in my head that tells me that I am a failure. However, I decided to quit dwelling on that voice and buy a new planner. Re write my mission statement and come to the realization that keeping my life totally organized is the defining point of who I am. That my salvation is not dependent upon it.

So, I try to be organized to be helpful and useful. I am not working on my organization as way of being perfect. Got to remember that and losing my day planner helped me remember why I am doing this.

Chicago Marathon

What a brutal day last Sunday was.

The runner's reports are not overly exagerrated. I arrived at the first two water stops and there was not any Gatorade. The water was low. It took 90 seconds to find water at each stop. At that moment, I realized that I would need to readjust my time. The temperatures were excrutiating with it being 88 degrees and 86% humidity.

Three thoughts.

1.) Volunteers are incredible. Those folks who arrived to hand out water at the aid stations were pretty much screwed. They had a race organization that did not prepare them for the day. They had runners who were jerks. We runners can be very self centered, because well, the whole day is about us. However, I did not meet any volunteers who were bitter, angry, or anything but helpful. Chicago bravo!

2.) Quitting is an option. At mile 14 I was pretty much done. Anything else that was going to happen that day was going to be slow and painful My feet hurt and I was cramping. I quit sweating once. Sometimes it is better to quit than to push on. I was telling myself during the run. My measure as an athlete, person, father, and pastor did not lay upon my ability to run this thing. So, I quit running at mile 15 and just was looking to finish.

3.) I prayed that morning and my prayer was basically, "God I am not asking for a great time, because I am supposed to prepare to run. I am not praying for a day free of pain. Just let me accept the day as it is." That was a hard prayer to live into as the day came about. As the day ended, I met a Nigerian cab driver who said, "I was inspired by you all. I saw 70 year old man, running. I sit on my butt. THere was a 300 pound guy doing 26.2 miles. I can't get around two blocks. You all are heroes, you changed my life."

No Cabbie, you changed my life. It takes perspective to understand life and sometimes it is best seen outside of myself.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Waiting for salvation

For my devotional time, I use a book called "A Guide to Prayer for Ministers and Other Servants." I have had the book since 1995. I bought it, because it looked cool and simplistic to me. A leather book with a cross on the front. Yeah, I am bit of simpleton...I have bought CD's because of the cover art...oiy bad mistakes.

It is a book that is divided by weekly topics. I have picked up the book off and on throughout my ministry. It is a good friend who does not need constant attention.

Today, the reading was Psalm 25. The Psalmist said this.

"You are the God of my Salvation

I wait for you all day long."

I have been thinking about that. Here is this guy who is has this faith that God will save him, but it has not happened yet. There is no proof, only faith. In my own life, I have thought how I have kept faith even when my salvation has been very far away or even at times when I did not know if I would ever be saved. However, I kept believing and living as if it would or had. Does that make those of us who believe that faith is important hypocrites? I believe in God's goodness even though I have no proof.

In the midst of my own addiction, I prayed for salvation. I preached and believed, but was never assured. I would pray, "You are a good God, and I am waiting for you." I think those who struggle with addictions of all sorts have that feeling of waiting. This is destroying my life, but God is not present. I think what I have learned on this side of my life is this, 'I need to say that God will save and I need to live as it has happened.' Faking it until you make it.

So, I just wanted to share what a friend, a leather bound book shared with me today.

Somewhere this life of faith is about courage in the face of fear.
I have had a great deal of fear. Fearful about failing. Fearful about reaching out. Fearful about what others will think about me. Yada Yada. Somewhere in Garland there is a box of courage that I left behind. I felt it was a courageous move for me to go work at Jos. A Bank. It was admitting that life had gone astray and that I was rebuilding myself. I felt courageous in CPE. I felt courageous in accepting the move.

So, I was at an open 12 step meeting and one of the guys dropped 46 f bombs and basically said, "To be sober is not to be phony. You can fake it and go smoke weed, but I am not one of those folks. You have to find God or you will be in the same f###ing place you are now." It was one hell of a sermon and it convicted me. I have to remember how far I have come. I have to remember that I am doing this for the gospel and that Jesus walks with me. I have to remember that it matters not what anyone thinks, but it matters what Jesus thinks. I have to give this all up, so I can gain serenity, courage and wisdom.

So, as my 12 stepping friend said, "Quit f---ing around if don't want to f----ing do this get out."
I am in, all in.

Witnessing grace

Last night, I got a picture mail on my phone. I have a new phone number, so I have been getting odd calls. I looked at the number and realized that I did not know anybody who would send me a picture mail. I left the picture unopened. Amy and I just went back to working on the household budget.

A little while later, I get a phone call from a girl or young woman who asks if I got the picture and she realizes that she does not know me.

"Did you get the picture?"
"Yes, but I did not open it."

"Will you please delete it?"
"Sure."

"Please delete it, oh my God it is embarrassing."

I hung up the phone and went back to the budget. Upon finishing, I pondered opening up the picture to see what it was. My curiousity had really gotten to me. What is so bad? Then I decided that I needed to do thing of grace. If I made a mistake in my life, would I want a do over?

So, I deleted the picture.

I think that was the graceful thing to do. Opening it...there may have been something that would have disturbed my well being. So, I just deleted it and that was grace. I pondered sending a text back to her...defining this as a grace filled moment. Felt a little too creepy. A phone call, a little too intrusive. So, I let my actions be the last words...I don't know if that was the right thing to do or not, but it is all I had.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

What a day

This morning I got up to run 12 miles on the Yokohl River road. It is a road that goes up into the foothills of the Sierra Madre. It is a hard run from a flat land runner like me. We started in the dark and the sky was filled with stars. More stars than I had seen in awhile. Then dawn broke upon the golden rolling valley. At the turnaround, I could hear off in a grove of Oak trees, the yelps of pack of coyotes. Awesome.

After I got home, we got the family into the car for 2 1/2 hour ride to the beach. The night before, I bought Samuel a boogieboard. So, we went to Cayucos and hung out for a few hours. Samuel was a natural on the board, riding waves all the way to the shore. Dad, not so much.

A road trip with the the fam from hills to beach in a day. That is one of the reasons to live in California.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Beginning again

I had begun grieving the move from Dallas to Visalia for awhile. I cried a couple of times. When we handed over the keys to our house, I cried. Garland is not garden of Eden, but that house was the place where much of our life happened. It was the house that welcomed Nathan to our family. Perhaps, that house saw me have a bit of transformation in my own life. I cried a bit when we left SpringCreek Church. I cried a bit when I ran for the last time, but I felt good about that. I had spent a great amount of energy and sweat...there were friends there. That is good. I cried at Korean camp. Finally, I was done crying and was ready to move.

So, Amy, Samuel, Nathan, my brother Cody who was the helpler, and myself left Dallas to head to Visalia. A three day journey. When we crested over the mountains on I-5 and saw the San Joaquin Valley, I felt relieved. We were almost there.

We have unpacked the boxes and began enjoying life in Visalia. Thursday night Farmer's Market, Friday night Bar B Q in downtown. Tri Tip is the speciality, not bad. In n Out Burger. A box full of fruit. Running in the foothills of Sierra Madre. Cool Mornings and Hot Afternoons. A city that is 15 minutes across by car.

Sunday was awesome. The people were very welcoming. The adventure begins. I knew and believe even more that getting to Visalia was going to be the easiest part.

fearless joy,
guido

grace and courage

Two quick points.
Smoking done, Barbecue done. Flavor was good, but I did not master the trimming of the brisket and to be honest trimming the brisket is key. We went marbled instead of lean. A little disappointed with how it turned out, but I have learned...pork butt that is where it is at.

Party was good from my perspective. Friends checking out the house before we leave. I really appreciated seeing folks who mean a great deal to me and if they felt that as they left then my goal was reached.

Now, cool thing that happened.
Today, as I was running at the lake. Got finished and was psuedo stretching. A woman walked up to me. "Are you Niel?"
I paused and wanted to know if I should stick to Guido, "Yeah."
"You knew me when I was in seventh grade."
"Did we go to school together?"
"No, you were my youth minister in DeSoto. My name is Blythe."
"Yeah, I remember. Cool how are you doing?"

Man, I remember Blythe and that small youth group that taught me a lot helped me learn about church. Her family was great. She hand an older sister and her mother helped me through a great mission trip to San Antonio.

It made my day. What it reinforced in me was why I do this thing called ministry. It is about touching people's lives. As I was packing, I came across the book that youth group had given me as a parting gift. She had some personal words to me about that mission trip to San Antonio. I was eating lunch with another young person who I have ministered, she is consider a call to the ministry. She was a little discouraged and I told her the story of Blythe. "That is the reason to be a minister. You do things and you hope that they have made a difference. The funny thing is that you never get the joy of knowing how much of an impact you made. You trust that God is using you."

So, I pack the house today and get ready for the mover's to arrive. I do that knowing that God can use me. He has and I trust that he will.

Who are the folks who you hope you touched?

Fearless Joy,
Guido

smoke

One thing that I enjoy doing is smoking meat. In the Midwest, they call it Barbecue. In Texas anything that goes on a grill is called a Barbecue. But, let's just move back to the smoke, the coal, and the challenge to bring a smokey flavor to meat. I just love the process.

It takes a great deal of time, and the risk is that the adventure fails and the meat winds up tough as leather.

Today, I got a brisket on the smoker and it has been on the smoker for about five hours.

It is a slow go, and I think I need to leave this world to go back to the world of smoke.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Resolution Rant

One of my frustrations with our tribe's biennial gathering is the business sessions. My first GA was in Tulsa, 1991. It was a blood bath of a GA over the issue of leadership and homosexuality. Both sides were foolish.

Over the years, I have voted against many resolutions, because I vote against the resolutions unless I am personally willing to live out the resolution. So, even if I think the resolution is good, unless I am willing to live my faith into it... I feel hypocritical or irrelevant. Both are not what I want to be. Maybe this is just my West Texas perspecitve, of the individual of critical importance.

What gripes me most about the business sessions is this. We have these debates where a person gets a couple of minutes to put together a opinion. So, the debates are nothing more than sound bites. That is what sucks about public discourse. We become nothing more than Ann Coulter's and Bill Maher's very shallow and very strident.

This Campbell-Stone movement cut its teeth on debate. It grew through dialogue. It champions itself as a reasonable faith. We lift up the head above the heart, most times. Our practice as a body to make decisions is the worse of public discourse, the sound bite. Not a reasoned argument, a well-formed opinion, and one cannot come with an open mind and be persuaded. There is not enough time.

I think that is what ails these gatherings. Liberals and Conservatives can't have a dialogue, can't learn to appreciate the gifts that each has to share when we are reduced to every two years of sound bites. We squabble over issues that really are not essentials. Homosexuality is not an essential. It is a non-essential issue. I think Jesus takes people as they are not as they should be.

So, I really wish we were resolved not do this anymore...we won't be. I told a friend that I could be found at the Flying Saucer, a FW pub, during the business meetings. Maybe over a Shiner, I can have a conversation with a person who has a different opinion and through that dialogue my mind and heart might change. So, if you are in FW, I will be at the Flying Saucer in the afternoon and Starbucks in the morning. A seat will be open for you.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

To give a moment of grace

For some reason beyond my own fathoming, I get up at 5:00 AM to go workout at White Rock Lake. We are doing a workout with an acronym that I cannot remember. It involveds push ups, squats, lunges, etc. Things that are best done in the early morning hours when few people are around. It is a tough workout and I usually feel it for a couple of days.

Today, on my last 800 meter run, a woman was walking. It was the familiar walk of one who has been beaten by the workout and is just trying to finish. I know it well. I passed her as I was doing my cool down again. I thought, "Guido, you have been there, give her a little encouragement." As I finished up, I walked back down to meet her.

"Are you OK?" I asked.

"Yeah, tough workout for a Monday."

"I know. Remember, your worth as human is not defined by one workout, one race, or one hobby you pursue."

She chuckled, "Yeah. What's your name."

"I am Guido."

"Oh, I heard about you."

I am not sure if that was helpful or not. However, it was a moment when I had a chance to make a difference and perhaps it did. I am not a superhero for doing such a thing, because there were selfish motives in my sharing that knowledge. It helped me. It made such an impact that I blog about it see how self centered I am.

But to live out my mission, I had to do it. This is what it will take for me to be effective as a church planter, more interactions of this kind. It only took me five years to develop enough relationships to get credibility to share such words. Oiy!!!

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Marathoning for a cause

This January, Rev. Keith Stewart from Spring Creek Community Church began a sermon series on Africa focusing upon the AIDS and debt crisis. He focused his energy on a Kenyan Village in Katito. Keith was asked by World Vision, who sponsored his trip to Africa, to run the Chicago marathon in efforts to raise funds for Katito.

As a marathoner, I just sat stunned. I had planned on running the Chicago marathon this year and had secretly thought in my head that Keith could benefit from the experience of running a marathon. Never told anybody about that secret, not even Amy. Just had that one inside.

When Keith said that...I just sat in stunned silence throughout the service. I took up the pledge to join some Spring Creek Church folks to run this marathon and raise money for Katito.

I am asking you to make a donation to World Vision. Here is what you need to know.

Amy and I are financing my trip, so all money raised goes directly to World Vision. 100% goes to World Vision.

My goal is to raise 500.00 from folks like you and Amy and I will match the donations to $500.00.

All the money is going to Katito.

For more inspiration check out these sermons by Keith. "On a mission from God," the January series.

Thanks for your support,
Guido

Levi in Mark

I just caught this in Mark, thanks to the Recovery Bible.
Mark 2:15 "That night Levi invited Jesus and his disciples to be his dinner guests, along with his fellow tax collctors and many other notroious sinners."

Levi invited his friends meet Jesus. A new convert to the faith, to the following, invited folks to meet Jesus. What did Jesus and 'the boys' do? They met them and had dinner and witnessed grace.

Mission-to be in the mission field will send the faithful to places that are a little uncomfortable. I recall being in some people's homes that were a little wild. That is part of the business of faith and following Jesus.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Getting to Bonhoffer

There are books in my shelf that are what I call my 'should' books. That is an awful title for a book. I dread when somebody gives me a book and says, "You should read this" or "You must read this."

I have a couple of books like that, "Crime and Punishment" by Dostevsky, anything by Kierkegaard, Douglas John Hall's systematic theology, and Bonhoffer's "Cost of Discipleship."

I feel that my life is a little less than complete for not reading these books. Today, after having Cost of Discipleship on my shelf for almost 20 years, I picked it up again. Today, 'cheap grace' made sense. I got it.

"the only man who has a right to say that he is justified by grace alone is the man who has left all to follow Christ." (pg 55)

As I begin to sense the enormity of the task ahead in Visalia and how difficult that will be. Those lines began to make sense. I think my life in the faith to follow Jesus has been fairly easy. Church camp was paid for. A few classes to get baptized. TCU and Seminary were paid by gracious folks. However, this last year of walking away from ministry to rebuild and redefine myself and coming through to a calling has been a step of faith. I am not sure how enormous, but it has been a more serious adventure than began in years preceding this one.

Now, I am beginning life anew.

Grace is a gift and we must respond to that gift. Grace for grace to be transforming, we must live as we are forgiven and in deep need of grace.

In recovery, I am freed from my habits and addiction by my willing ness to do anything to stay sober. That means praying, reading the big bood of AA daily, making phone calls and being rigorously honest.

As a Christian, I must reorient my life through loving God fully and serving others wholly. (The great commandment.) I must also be willing to go and help others in this world who are in need of grace. (The great commission.) That is a difficult prospect, but it is the way of Jesus.

Thanks DB for being patient and knowing that I would pick up the leaves that you left behind.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Faith

I like this image, because it is a good reminder of faith. I begin this ministry with faith. I am not saying that I am vast resevoir of faith. I sometimes have moments when I have deep fear. Financial fear. Fear of my own limitations. Fear that I will not adapt and be able to reach the people that God needs to be reached. All those at times, cause me to pause.

But, faith overcomes those fears. I move with fear and trembling up the wall. I trust that I have put on my harness right. I trust that I have connected the rope to me well properly. I trust the one who holds the other side of the rope will be capable of holding me as I move up the wall.

Faith. As I think about the core value of this new community. It is faith. It is faith for me to come. But, the first step of faith was their's. They were the one's who had the faith to start. They were the one's who have faith to see gifts in me that will be useful. They are one's of tremendous faith.

So, I am in the harness. I call out "Belay On"...I hear the call out, "On Belay."

I am stepping to the wall and searching for my first hand hold and foothold.

"On Climb" and the voice that calls us has yelled, "Climb On"

I am going to step off the ground this weekend and put my faith in the rope and the belayer who holds me.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

(Photo by David Eppstein)

Lessons from Cane Ridge

In my tribe and its splinter groups, the folks out the Stone-Campbell movement, Cane Ridge is a birth place. It is an old meeting house/church on the Kentucky Frontier where in 1801 a large revival was held. 25,000 people across the frontier gathered for a revival and about 3 to 4 thousand became Christians.

I made my first trip to Cane Ridge a couple of days ago as part of a New Church Planters Peer Group. They told the story and history of the building and the revival. The interesting point about Cane Ridge is that the revival took place outside of the meeting house.

The building was not used for the revival except as a place for the preacher's to sleep and get rest. Cane Ridge provided me with a powerful lesson.

In a church, it is not about the bulding, it is about the mission of reaching out. If Cane Ridge church would have kept to themselves and stayed inside...then nothing would have happened. It took the church reaching out beyond itself.

We have preserved the building, but to me the greater message is that there are stumps outside where preachers hopped up on a stump and proclaimed the gospel to a people who came searching for God and community. As part of the Stone-Campbell movement, I will carry that image with me wherever I serve. I am a Disciple...meaning my mission is outside the walls of any building.

Emerging Churches are lame, my take.

As I am packing my books, I have come to the conclusion that I am no longer going to support Emerging Church Authors. Doug Pagitt, nice guy, but his book is an odd size.

I think the Emerging folks are trying to be cool and hip, so they make books that are not traditional.

A dozen emerging books are a pain in the butt to pack. I can pack the Ante-Nicene, Nicene, and Post Nicene fathers with ease comparted to the emerging folks.

So, I am going to make my theological and ecclesial decisions based upon the packability of the books.

So, folks at Youth Specialities...I am going to wait for the podcast.

Anybody have any Alexander MacLaren books instead of Brian's?

Fearless Joy,
Guido

The key word: Mission.

Why do we as Christians and as a church do the things we do? Why are we who we are?



Mission.


Ultimately, the church exists to care for the one's who are not there. I am a Christian not for my own salvation, but to use 12 step terminology, 'to carry the message.' To help folks who have not been touched by grace, because I know what a life apart from God is.

Angie came to me after worship and said, she had a vision of a junior high ministry. "Niel, you know what is running in my mind. Blues Brothers. 'We are on a mission from God.' I feel like I am on mission from God." It was a mission and for three years, Angie was the catalyst for youth ministry. It was cool. Her mission was generated by listening and watching her daughter's friends. She had passion and calling. She did not have many skills, but those can be learned. We had little money, but passion can overcome dollars or generate dollars.

Why is this church in Visalia being born? That is the question that will drive the life of this church. What is Jesus calling us towards? What message or experience to we have to share that will bring grace, healing and life to one's who are in need of grace, who are wounded, and who are dying?



Being the church is not about being the coolest church in town. It is not about great music. It is not about a great atmosphere. It is not about any of that outside stuff. It is about what is on the inside of the church, the mission.



The churches that decline and die are those that have no sense of mission. They do not know why they exist. Also, those churches that die are those who existence lies in being inward looking and care for one another as the primary mission.



Over the last couple of days, I have been thinking about that. My conflicts in the churches that I have served have been on this issue. People may complain that I do not visit them enough. I have not heard anybody tell me in a church, 'You are spending too much time with us. We need you out doing your mission.'



As I think of the folks, I admire, Herb Kelleher president of Southwest Airlines, I am reminded that on day before Thanksgiving, Herb, as the story goes, would go to work with luggage handlers. That was the place that needed the most help. In my life as a pastor, I have found myself scrubbing toilets, cleaning floors, carrying dead babies, and counseling difficult folks because that was where I was needed. I did those things out of sense of mission. I found myself visiting folks because I cared about them. My frustration came when folks complained about their needs were not being met. I recall telling a young man in prison who had not received a visit in awhile. "You are important to me and I love you. If I have not come to see you, it is because there is one who is hurting more than you. If you could pray for me during the in between time that would be helpful."





My personal mission is this. I am a Christian to bring encouragement to those who fear. To bring out the child of God that lies within every person. To remind folks that Jesus is their friend. To bring folks hope who suffer isolation of shame and regret.





These words by Mary Chapin Carpenter from her son "The Calling" have really been speaking to me.

"Deep in your blood or a voice in your head
On a dark lonesome highway
It finds you instead
So certain it knows you, you can't turn away
Something or someone has found you today



Genius or Jesus, maybe he's seen us
But who would believe usI can't really say
Whatever the calling, the stumbling or falling
You follow it knowing
There's no other way, there's no other way."





What is your mission?
What is your calling that will not let you go?

A new call

Yesterday, I received a call to be a pastor of a new church in Visalia, California.

My posts have been sporadic as this movement to a new church has been a large part of my life that I did not want to process while it was happening. Those discussions were private between my wife, the search committee, and myself. So, those are people who I have an intimate relationship, more intimate than a blog.

However, with this new call, I am going to use this blog to communicate this transition. I am stealing from my buddy Pastor Bruce Frogge who chronicled his journey to Naples, FL.

So, what have I done. I began painting my house. I quit my job at Jos. A. Banks. I am coming to the conclusion that the next few weeks, I need to get myself spiritually around what I am being called towards. I want to invite you on the journey to help in that transition.

So this Texas boy, one who grew up in the Republic of Texas is moving to the Republic of California. My prayer is that I may have courage to be who I am and live faithfully to what God is calling me to become.

fearless joy,
guido

My Nano

Got a nano for Christmas.
Really not a person who ever wanted a Nano or MP3 player. I hate listening to music while working out. Catch that I hated listening to music. Running a treadmill with headphones only lead me to a deeper despair. However, Apple and Nike teamed up with the Nike+ Nano system that is a pedometer and MP3 player.

It is cool. The pedometer is not that accurate, but today I finished a run and Paula Radcliffe congratlualted me. "That was your longest run so far."

It was a surprise, a moment of grace. I know it is not geniune and it is impersonal, but her voice reminded me of my purpose of running. To run with her, Meb, Deena, Ryan, and all the others who lace up the shoes and toe the line for a marathon. It is fun.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Gotcha Day

Today was Gotcha Day for Nathan.

A year ago today, I got off the plane in Dallas with Nathan in one of the most gruelling 10 days of my life. I remember that week in Seoul as I waited alone. It has been a year and has grown.

Catch this great picture of us as we got home.

I remember Amy telling me that I stunk when I got in the car. I smelled of Kimchi and clothes that had been for three days.

Today, we celebrated him being here for a year.

A great year.

I smoked a pork butt today. It was awesome.

More about that story later.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

death of taylor

Taylor is my son's fish. A betta. Taylor came into our family in August. As part of growing up and showing signs of maturity, my son was granted his birthday wish to own a fish, to be a steward of a life. Samuel took the work seriously and he provided care that was exceptional for a seven year old. He enjoyed the fish, but he did not tap on the glass or put his hands in the tank. Following the rules was a key part of the maturing process.

Over the last week, we noticed that Taylor was not eating his food. His movements slowed and most of the time he would hang out on the bottom. We cleaned the tank and that seemed to perk Taylor up. On Friday, Taylor seemed to be slowing down again. I came to the conclusion that he had the dreaded ich. We treated him with drops and then we added a snail to help keep the tank cleaner.

Today, I went to his room before he came home from school. The gills remained still and Taylor would not move when I put a finger in the tank.

When we got home, I took him to the room and shared the news. I let Samuel confirm the diagnosis. Amy had left for airport. This meant that I was alone to handle this issue and over the last few weeks, he had turned to mom for most of emotional support.

I had come to the conclusion that this espisode was going to be my son's first real link with death. He has been with me to funerals and visitations before. However, he rarely knew the folks who had died. Even when one of his beloved Sunday School teachers died, we were out of town unable to attend the funeral, no finality.

This time would be different, he would have to start dealing with death. We knew that would be one of the lessons...fish die. I killed a dozen in my life. I felt for him, because I remember when I raised my sheep for 4-H. That first spring evening when I had to send my ewe to the truck to the butcher was tough. I cried. I gave him decisions on how we would dispose of Taylor. He decided that the flush was not a satisfactory choice. I guess he is right, the fish is more important than poop or pee.
So, we buried the fish in the flower beds. We prayed and I hugged him.

Difficult day for my son, and I hope that I led him through this rite of passage with a monicum of grace and hope.

So, I pray that Taylor is welcomed into God's Kingdom.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Christmas huh

Working retail this year. Never had done the retail industry before. Done the fast food nation. Done the church business, but retail that is another beast. I have found myself unmotivated about Christmas and I think it is working retail. I asked my coworkers if they felt that way and we surmised it was the store. We like work, but retail sucks the spirt of Christmas out. Part of the retail engine is that it paints the picture that world walks into of Christmas lights and specials. Muzak blaring in the store. As Old Navy says this is the season to "Get the Fash ON" I guess that is right. I am not sure.

After this experience of retail life, I empathize greatly with folks in retail who suffer to paint the illusion of Christmas that is really fake. Mid January the Christmas stuff will be put away or thrown away. The associates and clerks will breathe deeply as January will bring slower sales. So, I am not experience the awe and wonder of Advent and Christmas this year and for that I am joyful. I now understand a segment of the population that struggles with it.

In my previous days as a pastor, I saw retail as the bane of Christmas. It was the source of materialism and now I see how the employees are effected as well. I am one of them.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Red One

These are the folks who spent the last half year running with me.
Great folks who taught me a great deal about grace and joy.

Oprah goes down 4:28

Oprah goes down.

Laura and I finishing the marathon before the rain settles in.

Race Week

It is race Sunday before the marathon. I have spent the last few months training for the White Rock Marathon It is a hometown marathon and I have set five goals. I have set them in order of importance.

A.) Have a great time and keep the joy of marathoning.

B.) Beat Oprah 4:28, I believe

C.) Beat Guido 4:40:59

D.) Help Courtney who has been running with me across the finish line.

E.) Five Hours

I may not meet my time goals, but I need to make sure that I keep my joy goals. It is race week and I feel pretty calm about this race. Very calm, not very anxious at all. See how I am doing on Thursday.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

New Church

I heard a sermon last week from Keith Stewart at SpringCreek Community Church It talked about consumerism and our desire to want new things. The sermon really touched my heart, because it forced me to realize at this moment in my process, I do not have a heart for people that I need to serve in this area. My heart is not fully into the new church process at this moment. I think my motivation is somewhat selfish. So, I need to wait.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

November 3, 2006

Isaiah 55:6-11

Seek the Lord while he may be found.
There are moments in my ministry when I have had the opportunity to do some new ministry. There was a moment that I could pursue it or let it go. When I did not pursue it, it went away.

I wonder if the call to ministry is that way. Called to ministry, but do not respond to the call…it fades. Is this what God is saying. This is the moment to follow the call? How do we have patience but have a sense of urgency? This is the mature point of faith and I pray for wisdom to know, to feel in my gut, in my bowels the call of the Lord.

Last night, I talked with Val and he had signs from God to start a church. I am not so huge on signs. They are true for Val. I believe God spoke to him through those. That is his faith. My faith is different. It does not demand signs, it relies upon nudges and whispers and the feeling in the pit o fmy stomach. That feeling, “I am being true to the gospel at this moment.”

November 2, 2006

Proverbs 22:17-21
“Apply your mind to my teaching:
For it will be pleasant if you keep them within you, if all of them are ready on your lips.”

As a planter, I must be able not only to have the words within my mind, but the words and convictions must live in my guts, my bowels in Hebrew language, the center of my being. There will be time when my head will spin, my heart will grow cold, but in the very seat of my being I must have the faith and confidence that God is calling me, yes me, to this mission of being a church planter.

I am not there yet. It is not rooted in my gut. It is in my head.

fearless joy,
guido

November 1, 2006

Isaiah 6:1-6

“Holy, Holy, the earth is filled with his glory.”

A reminder that the whole earth is God’s. It is in need of reclaiming.
"this place is part of the Kingdom of God."
Also, God is the one who take away my sin and make me useful.
It is God who makes me ready for ministry.
Trust that.
When God calls, I will go.

new beginnings

In July, I resigned from my position as pastor for various reasons. Primarily, my vision of church did not mesh with the church I was serving. I could work at imposing my vision, but was that healthy? I took a step back and let go. For my own health and the health of the congregation. It happens at times when pastors are called for their strengths to complement the weaknesses of the congregation. However, the strenghts of the congregation are sometimes the weakness of the minister. At times, those strengths and weaknesses are so central to belief and call that to capitulate is not possible. Both are good, but together are bad. It is like lemon juice is good. Milk is good. They suck together.

In the interim, I left the church without a position to move into. So, what do I do.

I told myself that I would have to get a job, but I was scared to get a full time job. I would want to make a commitment to stay in a place for awhile before moving on. My wife and I talked about me doing some CPE work and so in September I applied for a CPE position. CPE is clinical pastoral education. It is a process of learning predominantly in hospitals where a person works on pastoral skills and pastoral identity. I thought that I needed to do both. So, I am doing an extended unit of CPE.

I find CPE pretty neat experience and environment. There is a structure to chaplaincy and also a sense of freshness. I do not know if I want to be a chaplain, but I am searching that part out of my call. It is about 12 hours a week. So, I get to hang out with dead bodies at times and people who are going through trauma. It is interesting work.

So, I have filled my other time with a retail job. I needed something that simpler and had some structure to it. I started tonight at the store. It is a clothing store and I enjoyed the work. Made my first sale tonight, woohoo.

In a way, I am excited about these two developments of my life. It means that I have worth and to be honest I was not sure if anything I did was worthwhile. However, I notice I do have some good skills working with people and perhaps that is what God is calling this time. A time of healing, purification, and perhaps this is my own little diaspora.

God is faithful, so I will continue to trust.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Barber Dan

POOL, DAN A., Of Garland passed away May 24, 2006. Mr. Pool, aka "Barber Dan" was Owner/Operator of Spring Creek Barbers in Garland. He is survived by his wife, Gretchen Duersch; mother, Ferne Pool and brother, David Pool & family all of Emporia, KS; sister, Elaine Wilson & family of The Colony, TX. A Memorial Service will be held from 2:00 to 4:00 p.m. Sunday June 4, 2006 at Spring Creek Barbers, 3848 N. Garland Ave. Suite 400, Garland, TX. Memorial contributions may be made to charity of choice.

During the summer, I have been having to go Supercuts or Sportsclip to get my haircut, because the barber shop closed. 'Barber Dan' was my barber and I realized a few years ago, I love the four barber chairs lined up, the row of chairs on the other side, rattlesnake hide on the wall, and the right wing cartoons on the coke machine. Did not always agree with any of it, but it was a place to be a man. Not that women with children were not welcome, but they came because they had boys who needed a haircut.

Barber Dan did a good job on my hair, was kind and friendly had good stories and was kind. This summer his van was gone and there was nothing on the door about what to do. Just a note to go to another barber shop. We were without a barber and all of his stuff was gone. I thought he may have had a problem with his hip. Dan had a hip replacement in the early spring, but it was not successful. So, I told him that he needed to get that taken care of. He was not doing well. I almost called his house during the summer to see how he was doing.

Today, I took my son to Kool Kuts/Cool Cuts something that is full of video games and stuffed with kids. The wait was going to be an hour to get his hair cut and I was not going to wait that long. I am impatient as my one year old who was in my arms. So, we went to the barber shop to see if anybody was there. Barber Glen was there and he shared that he told the kids that Barber Dan had gone to heaven. I was a bit shocked.

Then I went home and checked the obits online. There it was.

I lamented to my wife that I had lost my barber and that was traumatic. I did not realize that I had lost a friend and a part of our family. Dan was a blessing and I thank God for him. I mourn his loss and I have to share with my son that Barber Dan has died.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

remembering

Part of today will be moments of somberness and extreme sobriety.
We will be told to remember and never to forget.
Hold this tension of not wanting to Toby Keith and put a boot in the butt of everybody, part of me wants to remember 9/11 as it was a day the world changed, and part of me wants to forget because it hurt.

I recall when the first plane hit the tower. I was watching CNBC and they broke to World Trade Center and there it was smoking. I thought to myself, "Must have been an oblivious Cesna or something that ran into the tower." I turned off the TV and got my son ready to go to Ms. Becky's house and was listening to Sports Talk Radio and the weather guy was on for his segment and he told Jason Whitlock, "Sort of just matter of factly in shock, another plane hit the tower." I quickly went back to the TV to see what had happened and the video showed a jetliner crashing into the tower. My eyes widened and I felt the cool air on my dry eyes then I squinted. That was no accident, it was on purpose.

I drove my son to Ms. Becky's listening to the radio. The news guys and gals were working with facts and I could tell they were shook up. I got to Ms. Becky's and I asked her, "You heard what happened?" She said some other mothers were talking about it when they came in. I let Samuel go and she picked him up and held him pretty close.

I went to work at the church and I had the radio on, tuned into the internet, and the TV with no cable was giving me some fuzzy pictures. I remember hearing about Washington DC and I was scouring the internet for anything about the Flight 93. It was unconfirmed at the time and I was told it was near Pittsburgh, but there was a crash.

I called Amy to ask about her sister who was flying out that day of LaGuardia. She got word back that she was alright. Then I had this feeling that every city was going to be hit. The Sears Tower, the Arch in St. Louis, L.A.. All day planes were going to be flying into buildings. I felt that vunerable.

I heard on the radio as Peter Jennings shared with us all that first tower had fell and I could hear the grief in his voice. I turned the TV on and watched the replay of the fall and waited for the next one to fall. I had hoped and prayed that somehow a miracle would happen and the second one would stay up. It did not and when it fell, I turned off the TV and sat in my office for a few moments and went home to watch the TV on cable. There was not going to be any work done.

My wife was working at home and I talked with her. I asked if anybody was at the office. About 2:00 PM, I quit watching, all plane flights had been cancelled there was no more danger. The towers were down, the Pentagon was under control. I went for a run and it was a beautiful fall day in Kansas City. I ran and it was the most normal thing I could do. To see that life was still continuing.

I was supposed to have an interview with a church that night. I called the search committee chair and asked him, "Do you want to do this interview tonight?"
He responded, "I don't see why not?"
It was the worst interview ever. There was no energy on my side of the phone and none on theirs. We all were thinking of something else.

I picked up my son that afternoon and there was a line of 30 to 40 cars at the cash station blocking the road. There was this tremendous fear that we would be out of gasoline. I just said, "What idiots." That was the irrationality of the day.

I recall that sports talk radio went off the air for three days. The world stopped on Wednesday and normalcy started returning Thursday and Friday. I just remember afterwards, conversations being about that day, dinner parties and such. That weekend, we had a company dinner and some of the folks were not there because they were still not able to leave where they were at.

I recall wanting to join the State Department to help out. I thought about the Army, but I had a son. I just recall that I felt more American. I could not find out how do that without being reactionary.

To be honest these reflections are not that spectacular, but just an ordinary person's remembrances.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Running and age

The last three races I have run, I have placed.
The funny thing is that two of those races, have been my slowest times.
The competition is scarce.
I told Amy that i was really concerned about my speed. "Am I slowing down with age that much?"

This morning I got up early and did my 2.8 course that has been my standard for testing myself. I got up and hit the road hard this morning and completed the course in my second fastest time. Of course that is a minute off of my fastest time, but it is my second fastest time. I was proud of myself and decided there was still some hope for my legs.

So, I have placed and medaled in the last three races. That is cool, because I busted my hump in some other races and got nothing. That is why running is joyful and frustrating. But that is the good thing. I go home with a medal and I feel good. If I run a good time, my best time, then I say, "Wow, look at what i have done?" It works both ways.

I am off to sleep, so I can run in the morning.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

essentials and non essentials

Hoffmann von Fallersleben wrote: "In essentials, unity; in non essentials, liberty; in all things, charity." This is my tribe of the church's motto, slogan, credo.

As I was reading Velvet Elvis last night something struck me. Rob Bell talks about that notion of God for Moses was that Yahweh was extremely different from other gods. Yahweh was unseen. There were no graven images of Yahweh, because he was without form. I think Rob is going somewhere else, but those words provoked something in my mind.

I began thinking about "What is essential in my own practice of worship?"

As Disciples we have a few things that we hold as sacred, but are they truly essential or just sacred cows that keep the faithful or the want to be faithful from a deeper spirituality.

Is a cross essential in the sanctuary?
Is an American flag flanked by a Christian flag?
Is a candle?
Is a robe?
Is the lectionary?
Is the hymnal?
Is the table and communion?
Is Baptism?

As I begin to say, "No." I know I am bordering on heresy, but alright Campbell and Stone were heretics. However, only those who are close minded fundamentalists who don't allow a discussion to begin. At least that was what I was taught in seminary. You can be a liberal mainline fundamentalist as much as a hard core fundamentalist. Both are lifeless faiths who depend more upon orthopraxis and orthodoxy than the beautiful mystery of faith. Yeah, I mean to be a little belligerent, but perhaps I see a church that is sinking and is rearranging the chairs on the deck to solve the problem. Bail or swim!!!

As I come to understand my faith, here are the essentials.

Jesus Christ
The Bible
The doctrine of grace
Christian Hope
God's hand in creation

That is basically it. I am not sure there is much more. Putting my faith in a crucible, this is where I cannot waiver.

What are your essentials?
Do you agree or disagree with this list?

fearless joy,
Guido

Floyd news

Floyd Landis' father-in-law committed suicide yesterday Really sad news. It is a reminder that sport is sport and life is life. Life is more precious than sport.

fearless joy,
Guido

Processing through Floyd

Today, I finally could put together what I thought about Floyd Landis' situation with steroids. I have thought for the last couple of weeks that he was guilty. I suspected earlier, but I hoped I was wrong.

I am disappointed and feel cheated. During the awards ceremony, I stood a mile away from the podium. However, they blasted the ceremony down the Champs-Elleyes. They began playing the national anthem and I remember hearing the murmuring of other Americans quietly mumble singing the National Anthem. It was the first time that I had been outside the United States and heard the National Anthem. I had a better understanding that I was American. There was a sense of pride that the US had won 8 straight Tours. Had won 11 out of the 20. We are the most dominant country in the Tour. Then all the jibes from the others were made correct.

Floyd had cheated and all that is wrong with America, he made evident. People who lie, cheat and cut corners. Whole team was probably cheating, but Landis was so dumb that he did not have his masking agent that day.

Do I wish he would have not got caught and still cheat. No, I think it is good for him to get caught cheating. He was. He is acting like some high school kid changing stories constantly. Sorry Floyd, but I think you cheated.

Man that hurts to say.

Fearless Joy.

Fishing with my son

When I was a kid, I never caught a fish. I went with my grandfather every year to fish for trout but I never caught a fish. I was not patient enough.

So, my son wanted to go fishing. He loves fishing. We have a fishing game on PS2. I took him to a trout farm so that he could have the joy of catching fish and I could shell out a few dollars to make it more conveinent for me. The response from Samuel was, "Wow that easy, I am a good fisherman." My response was "You have no idea about real fishing, boy."

Yesterday, I told my son that "We will go fishing tomorrow." This morning, we got up and headed out the door around 7:15 to go to a neighborhood pond. My goal was that we could catch some carp. Not to eat, but just to enjoy catching them. So, I put some bread on his hook and he tossed the line out. Within seconds the boy was hollerin' "I got a fish dad." He was reeling the fish in and out on the bank was a 3lb catfish. A nice fish. I take the hook out and we throw the fish back in.

Next cast and there is a wiggle off the bobber. Then it goes under. He pulls in a smaller carp.

Two casts and two fish. This whole idea of real fishing was gone. He says, "I got some fish Dad and you did not."

Thanks Kid!

A funny day and I chuckled that God was not going to make life any easier. I will be fishing more often, because he caught them quickly. Interesting thing was that he took it seriously, got very still after that watching the line. A good morning for a beautiful kid.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

culture camp

My son and I are attending culture camp in Tulsa. It is an opportunity for families to gather to celebrate the joys of adoptions and also navigate the difficulties. It is awesome to be in a room of 200 Korean kids adopted. In this room they run, jump and celebrate each other. I am not sure how they process their uniqueness as a group, but they do in some child like way. I hear stories from parents, my son or daughter looks forward to this week all year long.

As a parent, it reminds me that my family is different. It reminds me that my family is special, unique and tremendously blessed. We are a Korean-American family. I try all year long to be the same and fit in with American culture. However, we are a thread that makes the tapestry of America beautiful.

I think God for this week and I am blessed to be part of this group. Especially the beauty of these wonderful families.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

The longest birthday

July 24th began for me waking up at 6:00 AM in Paris to get a shower and finish the last details of packing as we headed home. But the story begins in May.
Amy booked me on her flight to Paris, but did not buy the ticket. She just did not pull the trigger. She was waiting as she sometimes does when she purchases tickets. The hold lapsed and the ticket price went up 2 grand. So, I could fly on her flight if I wanted to spend 3000 dollars. She was going to be sitting in Business class and I in stowage/class. I told her that she should sit up front, she would be more comfortable. She felt guilty, but I told her. I want you to do sit up there.

Well when the ticket lapsed, she had to have me connect. So, I connected through Boston on a separate plane from my wife on my birthday. We arrived early for our flight, but Amy got us into the Admiral's club where we could COLD Diet Coke, water, and wine for free. Also, we could use our laptops since there were plugs on the walls.

Well, Amy's plane left first and I had time to wait. So, I put in Braveheart and watched the Director's commentary with Mel Gibson, never did that. So I had time.

TIme came for me to board, so I went up to my gate. I boarded and used my cool headphones that have better sound than the worthless earbuds of American Airlines. Flight came and went, I was awake the whole time. Arrived in Boston and left Boston.

The gist of this longest day. Somewhere over Kentucky, I looked up in my extreme tiredness and thought, "Guido, what a great day. YOu have watched Braveheart, guilt free. You have finished two books, guilt free. You have been to Paris. You have two great sons. You have such a relationship with your wife that you can send her alone across the world and both of you can have a sense of no guilt about that decision. Your relationship has a sense of pragmatism in its romanticism. Who cares that your meals for the day have included plane food and a dry tortilla wrap in the Boston airport. Your life is good."

The second longest day of my life was about gratitude and I turned a year older. If this is what growing up is about, then I gratefully welcome it.

fearless joy,
guido

The French

Interesting place, France. It was the wealthiest and greatest country in all of Europe. Before the 18th century, it was more poplulated and wealthier than any country. Ending World War I, it was the most dominant country in the world, but it had no resources to make it stick.

It was the center of philosophy, with Aquinas and Voltaire. It was the center of wealth with French Nobility. It was the center of Art with Monet, Manet, Picasso, and others coming here.

Funny thing to remember from history is that French Revolution was a reaction to the nobility that was corrupt. The revolution brough Guillotines and Napoleon. Neither were much for democracy. Unlike the American revolution which was a move to democracy that worked, the French revolution stalled and started. It reminded me that democracy is a hard task for people who do not know how to be free. Imagine Iraq and the countries where democracy is just trying to be learned. Perhaps, America is the anomaly and France is the standard. Perhaps, we cannot expect everybody to figure it out without a few failures. It took a generation in France to understand it. So Putin...might be Russia's Bonaparte.

Just an interesting thought as I walked through Musee Carnavalet, the history of Paris.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

The ancien regime

Louis IVX, the great Sun King of France thought highly of himself. He put his statue above the bust of Caesar. Louis had a chapel in Versailles. The nobles turned to worship him as he sat on the balcony worshipping God. That is the Divine Right of Kings on steroids. It also gives some reason why France went into Revolution.

Amy in Paris

Amy on top of the Arche d' Triomphe.

A mennonite in Paris

Flody Landis, the anti Armstrong, is going to be in Yellow tomorrow as he heads up to the Arch de Triomphe and down to the Plais de Concorde. I will be on the old Champs Elleyses watching him.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

trust

Yesterday, my son taught me about trusting with a cookie.

For lunch, I got a bagel and the combo on the bagel was a drink and cookie for a couple of bucks more. I wanted a drink and I thought I would give my son a cookie for after school.

The cookie was beside me, so I snitched a piece after I finished my bagel sandwich. When I picked him up, I decided that I as preist of the house, I would take my tithe, so I snitched a piece.

My son requested as we drove home, that I look forward and put my hand in the back seat. I did. He placed a cookie a piece of cookie in my hand. He gave me what I wanted. He then finished all he wanted of the cookie and gave me a bite left in the bag.

My son would have taken care of my desires if I would have trusted him. As I sat in the driver's seat, I felt like I was the child and he was the parent. That kid reversed the roles quickly on his pops.

I began thinking about this level of trust in my relationship with Jesus. How much do I trust Jesus to fill my needs and even my desires. How much trust is there? It is a growing edge for me and perhaps, I will no I am further up the road when I had a full cookie to my son next time.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

A month later here is a picture from Nathan's birthday. He was sick on his birthday and we had to delay the party until Memorial Day.

In the Tol, he chose a rice cake which means wealth and a book which means intelligence.

Thomas Friedman would be delighted with such a choice.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Nathan's birthday

My where had the year gone.
When it starts at eight months, it moves quickly.
My son Nathan turns one.
Last day of school for Samuel and Nathan's birthday big day.
Luckily he is one, so nothing big is expected and he is clueless that today is special.

The weekend will involve a Tol celebration, a traditional Korean celebration.
He will choose his destiny in life will he be a scholar, a cook, wealthy, or such.
Don't put much stock in it, but it is a traditional celebration that is fun.

pictures of ceremony done by two dopey Texans Sunday.

fearless joy,
guido

The Chicks, part deux

I have heard a couple of folks talk about how this album is change for the Chicks. No, not really.
They are marketing this album heavily.
They are working on the blue state folks who make up 50% of the country.
They are being anti-country, because there are two folks in the world. The anti-country crowd and the country crowd.
They have worked out, got their hair done, and look better than they ever have. Gone is Natalie's mullet. They are selling sex appeal, something they have always done. They are selling it harder than ever.

If they were looking for a smaller audience....they would not play major venues.
They would wear sweat pants on the album cover
They would be on an indie label.
They would not be on Time.

No, they are just moving on after spending a couple of years calculating when to relaunch their careers.

This is a soap opera and the album plays into the soap opera a bit. So it is a bit plastic, but even plastic things have moments of grace.

It is still a good album, because they had to be absolutely precise in what they were doing. They did well.

fearless joy,
guido

The Chicks

I have been a fan of the Dixie Chicks before Natalie Maines arrived on the scene. I have 'Thank Heavens for Dale Evans." I go back 12 plus years. I like the old sound, because it was Texas Swing. However, I did not player hate the new sound and moved along with it.

I really enjoyed the last album, but after the fiasco in London I did not pick up any of the Natalie albums and play them. I am not sure why, but I just did not.

The last few Sundays, I have been preaching a sermon series on "Mending Fences, fixing broken relationships." I finished up the series last Sunday and I did not compute the Chicks album coming out. However, in the midst of mending fences, i decided to pick up the album. Not that I have anything against them other than they were fairly foolish.

Have I been foolish? yes.
In a spirit of being a person who has said the wrong thing at the wrong time and wanted to make amends...I bought the album. Having been a person who was not forgiven when I asked to be forgiven...I bought the album.

It is the best Chicks album so far. It is painful, poignant, and lacks some of the fun of 'Earl.' I liked the Earl song, it was humorous. It is clean musically and well produced. The words of the songs have a purpose.

so, if you have needed forgiveness in your life and your friends have you let down...this album will speak to you.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

running, why i do it?

I am not a natural runner.Running is not something that really was a part of my life. I used to run and I would four blocks dying of exhaustion and come home feeling very dejected and worse than when I left. So, I began strolling for fun with my dog.

Then I decided that I would run in a 4 mile run when I was 29 or 30. I found out 6000 people were there and thought if 6000 people were there then I would probably not be the slowest person there. So, I ran with a couple of friends and had a blast. Over the next year, I ran on the treadmill at the gym and worked out. Just to maintain life. I then got a flyer for running a marathon in Dublin, Ireland for the Arthritis foundation. My wife has had Arthritis since she was 6 years old. So, I raised money and trained to run this marathon.

In the midst of the training, I ran with folks and began developing these relationships. There is something about running in the heat of August for 18 miles that I began sharing part of my life. I still have friendships with a couple of those guys. There was something about rising at 6:00 AM running for 2 hours and coming home to say, "i just ran 12 miles." I impressed myself.

That was 2001 and five years later, I run because I enjoy the people. I enjoy that part of my week where I get up and run around the lake in the cool of the morning. I enjoy the hills and I enjoy the people I run alongside. They are good people and there are stories of life that are shared. In fact, the marathons are not equal to the training. The marathon are joyful, but I rise at 4:45 AM on Saturday to see people who I have learned to love.

in a couple of weeks, I am going to run a grueling 1/2 marathon in Kansas City. I am not prepared physically, but I will run because for two hours I will get to hang out with friends. They will make an unpleasant experience, awesome.

fearless joy,
guido

Moussaoui and McVeigh

I was on the treadmill yesterday afternoon when I saw the screen flash the news that Moussaoui was going to get life imprisonment.

There will be much debate on whether or not this was the right decision and some will complain to the jury about it. However, that is the system.

I have been thinking about this for a long while. I recall when Timothy McVeigh was sentenced the death penalty for the OKC bombing. My thought at that time was that McVeigh needed to die to heal the wounds of the country. An American killing Americans as an act of terrorism as horrible as it felt, he needed to die. I remember when he was executed. The sun rose the next morning and there was nothing different with the world. The anger, the hatred, the violence, the grief all still hung in the air. His death did not heal the country, it did not restore life, and it seemed to me from my point of view to do nothing. I felt no great joy nor great sadness over his death. He was just dead.

As Moussaoui was denied the death penalty and the chance to be a martyr, I really had been thinking about McVeigh a lot. Killiing Moussaoui was going to do nothing to end terrorism in this world. Killing Moussaoui was not going to ressurect towers or people. His death would not change the world for better or worse, it would mean nothing.

His life in imprisoned, perhaps he will feel the power of a country who has given him a life that is really no life at all. All bars, hard concrete, and a sliver of light. Also some of the worst food in the world. I am not sure on all of this, but I know from last experience of death penalty and national justice...the world did not change when a terrorist was executed. If it did, the world changed for the worst.

Fearless Joy,
Guido

Aliens and the Spirit

I called into a talk show today to speak from the point of view of faith. I know that there is no such thing as dialogue. There is only a monologue with callers either being cheering fans or straw figures. I was a straw figure today. I am upset, I called. I am upset I am not more eloquent in my faith. I took the bait and was made a fool. Should have left the talking of the faith to Jim Wallis and Tony Campolo. I do better in my corner of the world. However, for my own therapy this is my response what I wished I would have said.

From Dr. King's "Letter from Birmingham Jail"
"You express a great deal of anxiety over our willingness to break laws. This is certainly a legitimate concern. Since we so diligently urge people to obey the Supreme Court's decision of 1954 outlawing segregation in the public schools, it is rather starnage and paradoxical to find us consciously breaking laws. One may well ask, "how can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others.?" The answer is found in the fact that there are two types of laws: there are just and there are unjst laws. I would agrewith Saint Augustine that "an unjust law is no law at all."
Now what is the difference between the two? How does one determine when a law is just or unjust? A just law is man-made code that squares with moral law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with moral law. Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust."

Now, the debate is whether or not the law is just or unjust. I think they are not just. They might be right and correct, but not just. The issue of poverty means I must stand with the poor. Sort of like the statue of liberty, (tongue in cheek, but also half true)

The problem is that Jesus who was an alien in Egypt, Matt 2:13-15. He fled Israel to find safety in Egypt. He was a 'wetback.'

Leviticus 19:33 When an alien resides with you in your land, you shall not oppress the alien. The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the citizen among you; you shall love the alien as yourslev, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord you God."

Jesus says in the great commandment, "Whenever you do it to the least of these, you do it to me." The least of these in this society are illegals who are being exploited. Jesus has concern for them.

As I look at the scriptures which are a higher authority than the Constitution, I see that my role as a Christian is to care for those who are here. They could be drawn here by the very will of God. I am not sure, but I care for those who are in need.

There is a difference between a murderer and an alien. The scriptures are very clear on that.
What i recommend is that you ask your pastor friends to open up the Bible and study with you. I know you disagree and you and I will talk until we are blue in the face. I hold scripture as the ultimate authority, you hold something else. That is alright. You have your right to your opinion, it is not just on the side that God is on. That is OK, God will win. He always does.

This is a very complex issue and it would be good if you let your faith worked it out. I am just one of those red letter Christians that believes in Jesus more than America. Sorry, but my Lord is Jesus. I love you Mike, but you need to go deeper in your faith.

Finally, in 1890's my great grandfather came to Galveston from Denmark. My other great grandfather hated my grandfather, because he was a "Danish Speaker." The issue today is not new, it is old. I stand with the folks who brought people into this great country and welcomed them. Those folks were the heroes, not John Birchers, the Know-Nothings, and the other bigots, like my great grandfather, who were wrong. This country is better now with folks like my family than without them.

I am not an American Christian, I am a global Christian. I am united with my pentecostal, conservative, and liberal brothers and sisters by the power of Jesus Christ that transcends borders or biases. I believe this and it shapes the way I view the world.

Fearless Joy,
Guido