Reflections on a Sunday

It’s 10:00 pm on a Sunday night and I’m back in my boyhood home, the house I grew up in. I’m in my old room, and while it’s still my room, Mom made a few changes some years back. The walls are cleaner and a lighter shade of blue then when I lived here daily (though I am grateful the doorframe is the same color blue as my room was originally). The bookshelves that held Star Trek models and books as well as my latest LEGO creation aren’t here either; I have all that with me in my current domicile. (Well, okay. The models are in storage, as is half of the books and a fair amount of the LEGO.) The bed I slept in is over at my in-laws for now in their guest room; I am sitting on essentially a queen sized futon, which in a sense is also a part of my life: things Japanese have formed part of who I am as well.

There are other reminders of my life here: The Norman Rockwell Barbershop quartet picture is hanging up on a wall, as is a beautiful picture of a church (showing my ministry and faith). The napkin holder I made in 7th grade is sitting on a shelf, still in need of Varathane. (But after 32 years, why do it now?) Some Navy stuff is here as well, including a picture from when I was in boot at Great Lakes. A picture from my wedding is on the wall, showing family--far too many of whom have gone to their eternal reward.

I am home for a week, and my bride of nearly 19 years will be joining me at the end of the week. So tonight, it’s me and my thoughts before I turn in. And to be frank, my being here couldn’t have come at a better time for a number of reasons I won’t bore you with here.

It is with all this in reference that God met with me tonight. Oh, nothing major--no burning bush or anything like that--but a chance for me to rest, to be His child by returning to my childhood home. A chance, in the words of Twila Paris, to “..drop my sword, and look up for a smile.” 

You see, sometimes for those of us in ministry--any ministry--we get to the point where we can’t fight the battle any more. We get tired, weary...we get discouraged and sometimes wonder if we ever made, or will ever make, a difference. I go through this in my position with Master’s; I wonder if anything I do ever impacts people, or if I have ever made a difference. 

Today though, I got a glimpse of that. I could see the hand of God all over my day and my trip.

First off, Mom had Joel Osteen on this morning. He was talking about “Staying Open to Do Things God’s Way.” That caught my attention, as I find myself far too often trying to keep things in nice, neat little boxes. That got me to thinking: am I truly being open, or do I insist that God do things my way?

Then we went to church, and I crashed choir. Actually, Mom invited me to try and sing with the choir at the church I grew up in. Being a decent singer, and wanting to attend church with Mom, I went--figuring the worst case scenario would be I would end up sitting in the Sanctuary. 

I was welcomed like lost family, got handed a robe and music by one of my former youth leaders, introduced around, and sang during the service. It wasn’t a difficult set of songs, and the stuff from the hymnal was sight-readable for the one song I didn’t know. Some folks remembered me, and I met some new folk as well. I was reminded that I have made an impact, if for no other reason that those folks remembered who I was.

It was good to be in God’s house this morning. 

Lunch was spent with Mom and some friends of the family at a Mexican place that Dad loved to eat at. It was a leisurely affair, and followed once we got home with a nap and some football.

It was good to be at home this afternoon.

Then I had some time to myself, and spent it in God’s Word. And was reminded that: (A) I was not to worry (Mt. 6:28-34), (B) that God will care for me (Mt 25:34-40), and (C) that my job was--literally--to keep the faith (Mt 11:25-28). 

Let me make no bones about it: we live in uncertain times. No job or ministry is secure. Elections are in another week, and that can have some upheaval to it. (But enough about my lunch.) The economy is a roller coaster ride. News is bad from all parts of the world: Cholera in Haiti, unrest in the Middle East, drug wars in Mexico, chronic unemployment at home. It seems like everywhere one turns, things are falling apart, and you’re not sure if you can trust anything--or anyone. Heck, bedbugs are all over even. What’s up with that?

Tonight I was reminded that God is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. And while tomorrow is another day and will have trouble enough of its own, God is already there, and will take care of things if I will but let Him.

Praise God, He is trustworthy. You can take Him at His Word. It is good to be reminded of that, in that still, small voice.

Part of the care I need to do this week is to take care of myself. That means getting some rest. Which I am now going to do.

Enough for now. 

A Tale of Two Cities

It was the best of times, it was the wor...wait, I think that line’s already been used.

However, this really is the tale of two cities--Seattle and Las Vegas.  (Mostly Las Vegas, though.) I just returned from a trip to both; and while there are some similarities, there are quite a few differences as well. 

Seattle is where Deena and I spent a fun weekend with 400+ attendees (and over 10,800 guests) at BrickCon, the Northwest’s premier annual LEGO convention. (The premier bi-annual LEGO event-BrickFest-is coming back to Portland next year.) Las Vegas is where we flew to immediately following BrickCon, as she had a conference to attend. I got to go along and spend a few days working from a suite in the Palazzo hotel that was only 130 square feet smaller than our apartment. (The Palazzo is a five-diamond resort, by the way.) Since this was work related for her, they paid for her room, her meals, the conference proper, her travel...and she still drew a paycheck. I got to work from the 38th floor, which had a heck of a view, and managed at least three quarters of work one day, and a half day the next.

So what are the similarities?

Seattle is home to Boeing, grunge, the Mariners, and Starbucks. Las Vegas is home to gambling, large hotels, the 51’s (a minor league team), and has a Starbucks on almost every corner and in many of casino hotels and shopping areas.

Seattle is virtually surrounded by water; Puget Sound is to the west and Lake Washington lies to the east. There is Mount Rainier to look at. Las Vegas is in a desert with the Spring Mountains off to the west. In all fairness, neither city is terribly clean; Seattle has the edge because it is the Northwest and we tend to recycle more here. 

Before I go any further: I need to say that I enjoyed my stay in Las Vegas. I had a good time, and I know that many people come here and have good times. I wouldn’t bring a child with me though, unless that child was at least 21. Las Vegas really is for adults only. That is one thing I do like: the fact it is a place for grown-ups. That upside is also a drawback, however.

Las Vegas is like an amusement park for adults. Sex, slots, and alcohol flow freely here. Rita Rudner--a well known Vegas comedian-commented on the whole women’s body thing not long ago on Mike Huckabee’s program on the Fox News Channel: She went in for a mammogram and found there was a two drink minimum. There are cards on the ground with nude women on them, and phone numbers. That alone should scare any decent person silly. 

When one goes to Disneyland, you know it’s not real. But there is a certain charm, if not a magic, to it. You see Cinderella’s Castle, or Tomorrowland, and you know it’s not real. But you go along with it, and it’s fun. You see the rides, you see the characters, and you understand it’s the ultimate interactive storybook. 

I guess it is that adult amusement park theme is probably why I don’t care much for Las Vegas...everything here isn’t real. (Including, I suspect, the bodies of a number of showgirls. Implants and airbrushing do work wonders.)  Much like Disneyland, you’ll get taken for a ride, all right. Las Vegas is totally designed to remove any inhibitions you have, and separate you from your hard earned cash. If a casino isn’t beckoning to you, the high priced food, booze and expensive jewelry and clothing tempts you. (We won’t discuss the legal “escorts”, however.)

That’s why so many people like to come here. A chance to at least pretend you’re one of the rich and beautiful for a few days, the hope that maybe this slot machine or that poker table will at least pay for the trip, if not make you a millionaire. That’s okay with me too, as long as it stays here. Nothing is sadder than seeing people come back from Las Vegas and trying to maintain the Las Vegas Boulevard lifestyle on Main Street.

I’ll cheerfully admit that during BrickCon, everything we all built was unreal. It was all done with LEGO, after all. But that’s part of the magic of one of these conventions. For a few days, we create a magical little place, with space people and aliens, pirates and cowpokes, knights fighting dragons and saving damsels, trains that run on time past neat clean houses and happy little people. Businesses line little streets that have no potholes. Heroes fight villains, and even mecha-Godzilla is relatively safe. The moonbase has a little Starbucks, even. That’s life in the magic little world we create.

In Las Vegas, though, that magic is on an industrial level. Fantasy is what makes Las Vegas what it is: a unreal, unobtainable world, where every woman is beautiful, every man is good looking, and everyone is lucky and a winner. There’s pirates here too, fighting sirens. New York City is only a few blocks from the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triumph. Venice, Italy is a few blocks from that; and it’s always sunny and pleasant in Venice. (And, I suspect, cooler and less humid as well.) Heck, I can travel several continents on foot and be back in my room in time for lunch. 

That’s another issue: the buildings on the Strip are so huge, there’s no perspective. I walked from the Palazzo to New York New York and back. That’s only 3.6 miles roundtrip. But it seemed like twice that...and yet, didn’t seem that long at all. That’s the problem with the perspective here: you just can’t gage how far is far. 

Finally: the thing that made Las Vegas isn’t called gambling anymore. They now call it gaming, and while it is still what made Las Vegas what it is, it’s getting out of hand. (Not just here, but all over--but I’ll save that for another time.) Now, I enjoy a good game of poker as much as the next guy, and I’ll play 21 every so often, and on occasion have even played a few slot machines. But this is way far beyond that. The slot machines here really are designed to entice you: Monopoly, Wheel of Fortune, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, Star Trek (that one made me cringe), several others named after TV shows or well-known movies (The Wizard of Oz is one)...and the eBay slot machine.

eBay the slot? What’s next...the iPod slot machine? Now there’s an interesting concept...maybe it could pay off in iTunes credit.

Enough for now.