Greetings from the deep end!
I was reminded today of something that happened last week while we were still at the ranch. We had parked the RV a couple of days before and I needed to start it to check it's level. I moved back the curtains in the front of the RV, turned the drivers seat forward, jumped in and fired up the beast. Xander ran to the front of the RV and screamed a little. I looked over and saw that he was quite worried. I laughed a little. Well, I am going for the father of the year award and laughing only a little when a situation is HILARIOUS earns you points towards that award. Anyway, I explained to him that it was supposed to start and make those noises. He stopped and thought a bit. He got the most amazing quizzical look on his face, furrowed his eyebrows and pointed to the "captains area" in the front of the RV and said, "Car?" I couldn't help myself, it was too funny to not laugh. I can see it in my minds eye as I write this. "Yes Xander, it's a car." I replied. It didn't sound quite like that as it was filtered through sporadic fits of mirth as I calmed down from the comedic shock that had set in as a result of his statement; "Car". Didn't really learn anything about growing up this time, but it was a cute story that I thought I would share.
July 2, 2010
June 30, 2010
Coming Soon to a Theater Near You...
Greetings from the deep end!
Have you ever had a morning that was bad? Have you ever had one that was so bad that it could be a movie? Have you ever had one that was so bad it was ALREADY a movie? I have. Robin Williams starred as me. The movie? "RV". I mean, it was just one crazy bad thing after another this morning. If nothing else I think I have learned that it's okay to laugh at yourself after your tears subside (just another unwelcome reminder of a thing I already knew). Wanna know what happened? I didn't think so, but I'm gonna tell you anyway, because hey, you've read this far and if you are still reading, well, that's your choice.
I remember waking up around 6am with a crazy headache and Xander just losing it in his crib. I remember Aryll doing the same and Pam getting them both settled down in the front of the Parsonage. We have dubbed the motor home we are living in "The Parsonage" as it is parked on church grounds. It is not as funny a title as "The Rolling Turd" in the movie "RV" but we address it as the Parsonage just as affectionately. As is my style, I have digressed, point is, crazy headache, crying babies, 6am. I next remember waking at 7am enough to realize that I desperately needed to snag some sinus medication and Ibuprofen. I slammed the pills and a half a bottle of water, put a wet rag on my forehead and laid back down. I remember the pain subsiding around 7:30am and going back to sleep at that time.
Pam woke me at 8am to go "dump" the RV. This is a rather improper word as it inspires such visual definitions as a dump truck "dumping" a load of dirt or gravel at a work site. Let me assure you, the reader, this is NOT what dumping the RV means. If you have seen the movie, my experience of dumping the RV was not that bad. However, anytime you try to "dump" an RV and come away wet, it's nasty. So then, we get to the dump site, Pam chose to come along and bring the children and "help" me with the project. A sound plan, in theory. Usually when Pam helps me with the RV stuff, one of us walks outside to supervise and one stays inside to do the work, whether it be leveling, dumping, hooking up water or electricity. We communicate through our phones, me through my Bluetooth and her through her cell. Again, a great idea for this morning, in theory. I get outside and need Pam to run water through the pipes from inside. My cell says, "calling Pamela". Ring... Ring... Ring... "WAAAH GANGWAGH WAAAH hello? WAHH GAINGWAHH!!!" Dear reader, does this make any sense to you? Me neither. I finally understood that Pam had answered her phone and our two lovely children (affectionately dubbed "The Symphony of Scream") were tuning up in the background. I asked Pam to perform the task which she had joined me for... "Can you flush the toilet?" to which she replied, "WHAT?" to which I replied, "CAN YOU FLUSH THE TOILET?" to which she replied, "I CAN'T HEAR YOU", to which I replied, "DO THAT THING YOU CAME HERE TO DO!!!" To which she replied, "I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE SAYING!!!" I then returned to the inside of the RV to complete the job alone and send the family on their way. Dumping an RV is hectic enough without the symphony providing background tunes. I finished the job at the dump station, to make a long disgusting story short and less disgusting, I left wet and desperately desiring a shower.
Learning the streets in a new town is bad enough when you are in the family car and there is no construction. I got to take a detour in the RV on the way back to the church in a town that I don't know this morning at about 8:45am. I only ended up about a mile from where I originally intended to be. Classic movie prank. I was thinking to myself on the way back that things couldn't get worse for me because the dirty part was done. I was wrong.
I got back to the spot where I wanted to park the RV. I began to level it only so that the jacks would bottom out before it was level. This should not have happened as the infernal thing was on the same spot as it was not more than an hour before. 30 minutes later I was still trying to get it leveled. The on-board leveling system told me that it was level so I went outside to finish hooking up the water and electrical. Pam called to me through the RV walls to tell me that it wasn't level (she could have opened a window). I asked her how she knew and she replied by putting a water bottle on it's side on the table. I think the bottle rolled faster off of the table than the RV can go at top speed. I angrily stomped back inside, started the engine, got the hydraulic jacks turned back on, checked for level (it said it was level) chose to use the bubble levels by the fridge instead and finished the job.
Before we had left for the dump job I had parked my pickup in such a way as to hide the hoses and electrical wires in hopes of keeping them from being stolen while we were away. As I began to back it out of the area between the RV and the building I heard a weird scraping sound. My heart jumped and I slammed on the break. Pam looked over at me, looked under the pickup, shook her head and motioned for me to continue backing up. I obeyed and out from under the pickup popped a fence post. I silently parked my pickup and crawled underneath it to make sure there was no damage. Praise God there wasn't. I went back to try to bend the pole straight (I hadn't showered yet mind you). I grabbed a hold of the fence post and began to pull, I noticed a white car coming up by me as I felt the pole snap. Time went into super slow motion at that point. I remember the pole snapping, me looking down at it and then the force from the break hitting my body. I felt my feet leave the ground before my back smashed into the gravel. Probably looked pretty funny. Didn't feel funny. I looked up enough to see that I was still holding the pole and that the white car probably saw the whole thing. Great. Wonderful. Shuh-weet! I called for Pam. She came out to see me lying on the ground with a fence post across my chest and my hands on my head. She asked what happened and if I was okay. The only lasting damage, and the only mark from my ordeal was a broken blood vessel near my left elbow. Pam helped me up and I went to sit on a nearby step to cry for a minute. Then I picked myself up (thanks Batman's Dad) and went to take a nice short shower. A person really shouldn't take a long shower when they have just dumped their RV and are hoping to make it 5 days before dumping again.
So then, if nothing else, I am again reminded of Batman Begins. Bruce's father says, "And why do we fall, Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up."
Have you ever had a morning that was bad? Have you ever had one that was so bad that it could be a movie? Have you ever had one that was so bad it was ALREADY a movie? I have. Robin Williams starred as me. The movie? "RV". I mean, it was just one crazy bad thing after another this morning. If nothing else I think I have learned that it's okay to laugh at yourself after your tears subside (just another unwelcome reminder of a thing I already knew). Wanna know what happened? I didn't think so, but I'm gonna tell you anyway, because hey, you've read this far and if you are still reading, well, that's your choice.
I remember waking up around 6am with a crazy headache and Xander just losing it in his crib. I remember Aryll doing the same and Pam getting them both settled down in the front of the Parsonage. We have dubbed the motor home we are living in "The Parsonage" as it is parked on church grounds. It is not as funny a title as "The Rolling Turd" in the movie "RV" but we address it as the Parsonage just as affectionately. As is my style, I have digressed, point is, crazy headache, crying babies, 6am. I next remember waking at 7am enough to realize that I desperately needed to snag some sinus medication and Ibuprofen. I slammed the pills and a half a bottle of water, put a wet rag on my forehead and laid back down. I remember the pain subsiding around 7:30am and going back to sleep at that time.
Pam woke me at 8am to go "dump" the RV. This is a rather improper word as it inspires such visual definitions as a dump truck "dumping" a load of dirt or gravel at a work site. Let me assure you, the reader, this is NOT what dumping the RV means. If you have seen the movie, my experience of dumping the RV was not that bad. However, anytime you try to "dump" an RV and come away wet, it's nasty. So then, we get to the dump site, Pam chose to come along and bring the children and "help" me with the project. A sound plan, in theory. Usually when Pam helps me with the RV stuff, one of us walks outside to supervise and one stays inside to do the work, whether it be leveling, dumping, hooking up water or electricity. We communicate through our phones, me through my Bluetooth and her through her cell. Again, a great idea for this morning, in theory. I get outside and need Pam to run water through the pipes from inside. My cell says, "calling Pamela". Ring... Ring... Ring... "WAAAH GANGWAGH WAAAH hello? WAHH GAINGWAHH!!!" Dear reader, does this make any sense to you? Me neither. I finally understood that Pam had answered her phone and our two lovely children (affectionately dubbed "The Symphony of Scream") were tuning up in the background. I asked Pam to perform the task which she had joined me for... "Can you flush the toilet?" to which she replied, "WHAT?" to which I replied, "CAN YOU FLUSH THE TOILET?" to which she replied, "I CAN'T HEAR YOU", to which I replied, "DO THAT THING YOU CAME HERE TO DO!!!" To which she replied, "I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE SAYING!!!" I then returned to the inside of the RV to complete the job alone and send the family on their way. Dumping an RV is hectic enough without the symphony providing background tunes. I finished the job at the dump station, to make a long disgusting story short and less disgusting, I left wet and desperately desiring a shower.
Learning the streets in a new town is bad enough when you are in the family car and there is no construction. I got to take a detour in the RV on the way back to the church in a town that I don't know this morning at about 8:45am. I only ended up about a mile from where I originally intended to be. Classic movie prank. I was thinking to myself on the way back that things couldn't get worse for me because the dirty part was done. I was wrong.
I got back to the spot where I wanted to park the RV. I began to level it only so that the jacks would bottom out before it was level. This should not have happened as the infernal thing was on the same spot as it was not more than an hour before. 30 minutes later I was still trying to get it leveled. The on-board leveling system told me that it was level so I went outside to finish hooking up the water and electrical. Pam called to me through the RV walls to tell me that it wasn't level (she could have opened a window). I asked her how she knew and she replied by putting a water bottle on it's side on the table. I think the bottle rolled faster off of the table than the RV can go at top speed. I angrily stomped back inside, started the engine, got the hydraulic jacks turned back on, checked for level (it said it was level) chose to use the bubble levels by the fridge instead and finished the job.
Before we had left for the dump job I had parked my pickup in such a way as to hide the hoses and electrical wires in hopes of keeping them from being stolen while we were away. As I began to back it out of the area between the RV and the building I heard a weird scraping sound. My heart jumped and I slammed on the break. Pam looked over at me, looked under the pickup, shook her head and motioned for me to continue backing up. I obeyed and out from under the pickup popped a fence post. I silently parked my pickup and crawled underneath it to make sure there was no damage. Praise God there wasn't. I went back to try to bend the pole straight (I hadn't showered yet mind you). I grabbed a hold of the fence post and began to pull, I noticed a white car coming up by me as I felt the pole snap. Time went into super slow motion at that point. I remember the pole snapping, me looking down at it and then the force from the break hitting my body. I felt my feet leave the ground before my back smashed into the gravel. Probably looked pretty funny. Didn't feel funny. I looked up enough to see that I was still holding the pole and that the white car probably saw the whole thing. Great. Wonderful. Shuh-weet! I called for Pam. She came out to see me lying on the ground with a fence post across my chest and my hands on my head. She asked what happened and if I was okay. The only lasting damage, and the only mark from my ordeal was a broken blood vessel near my left elbow. Pam helped me up and I went to sit on a nearby step to cry for a minute. Then I picked myself up (thanks Batman's Dad) and went to take a nice short shower. A person really shouldn't take a long shower when they have just dumped their RV and are hoping to make it 5 days before dumping again.
So then, if nothing else, I am again reminded of Batman Begins. Bruce's father says, "And why do we fall, Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up."
June 16, 2010
When it's All Been Said and Done
Greetings from the deep end!
This is gonna be a short one. I just have a few feelings I want to try to work out. So, I was done with youth tonight, they prayed for me, Pam and the kids. We all shared a bunch of our favorite memories of our times together, and I shared my last words of encouragement and challenge for their future in the youth group. Did fine, didn't get sad, didn't cry, my voice didn't even crack. Gave and received hugs and well wishes, not a tear. Then at 9:03pm I went back to the youth room to shut down for the last time. I shut off the A/C, told the kids I was closing up, and flipped all 6 light switches. As I turned around and looked at the darkened room, lit with only the dim light that came through the windows, I looked at Matt walking out the door with his long board for the last time and stopped moving. I just stopped. Matt seemed to look at me as if he were waiting for me, but I couldn't move, and didn't speak. As Matt turned to leave and the door shut behind him, I found myself all alone in the youth room and suddenly a myriad of thoughts and memories, both good and bad, flooded into my mind. Remembering battles won and lost, kids that came for a long time and kids that were only there for a season.
I walked to the stage and sat down on the second step and began to choke up. I asked God as I looked at the empty room if I had done what I was supposed to do with the kids He gave me in the time He gave them to me. I asked if I were leaving the youth group, the church, in a better position than it was when I arrived. As I asked the question, I wasn't sure of the answer to those questions. As I thought and prayed a song came to mind. I couldn't remember all of the words but I remembered the gist of it...
When It's All Been Said And Done
Verse 1
When it's all been said and done
There is just one thing that matters
Did I do my best to live for truth
Did I live my life for You
Verse 2
When it's all been said and done
All my treasures will mean nothing
Only what I've done for love's reward
Will stand the test of time
Verse 3
Lord Your mercy is so great
That You look beyond our weakness
And find purest gold in miry clay
Making sinners into saints
Verse 4
I will always sing Your praise
Here on earth and ever after
For You've shown me Heaven's my true home
When it's all been said and done
You're my life when life is gone
The song didn't give me any answers, as the song is questions only. I guess that means that God, rather than giving me a solid, easy, yes or no answer, brought to mind a song that only multiplied the questions. Great. Thanks! But that is where I am, did I do what I did here for the right reasons? If I did, then it was worth while, if I didn't, I hope and pray that God will use it anyway. I won't probably know about the impact that my life and actions in Sheridan may have had until heaven. That is the great drawback to ministry, and youth ministry specifically. We do lots and lots of work on hearts, we can't see hearts, and only in heaven will we be able to really see what work God was able to do through our feeble hands and hearts. In the end, "Only what I've done for love's reward, will stand the test of time."
This is gonna be a short one. I just have a few feelings I want to try to work out. So, I was done with youth tonight, they prayed for me, Pam and the kids. We all shared a bunch of our favorite memories of our times together, and I shared my last words of encouragement and challenge for their future in the youth group. Did fine, didn't get sad, didn't cry, my voice didn't even crack. Gave and received hugs and well wishes, not a tear. Then at 9:03pm I went back to the youth room to shut down for the last time. I shut off the A/C, told the kids I was closing up, and flipped all 6 light switches. As I turned around and looked at the darkened room, lit with only the dim light that came through the windows, I looked at Matt walking out the door with his long board for the last time and stopped moving. I just stopped. Matt seemed to look at me as if he were waiting for me, but I couldn't move, and didn't speak. As Matt turned to leave and the door shut behind him, I found myself all alone in the youth room and suddenly a myriad of thoughts and memories, both good and bad, flooded into my mind. Remembering battles won and lost, kids that came for a long time and kids that were only there for a season.
I walked to the stage and sat down on the second step and began to choke up. I asked God as I looked at the empty room if I had done what I was supposed to do with the kids He gave me in the time He gave them to me. I asked if I were leaving the youth group, the church, in a better position than it was when I arrived. As I asked the question, I wasn't sure of the answer to those questions. As I thought and prayed a song came to mind. I couldn't remember all of the words but I remembered the gist of it...
When It's All Been Said And Done
Verse 1
When it's all been said and done
There is just one thing that matters
Did I do my best to live for truth
Did I live my life for You
Verse 2
When it's all been said and done
All my treasures will mean nothing
Only what I've done for love's reward
Will stand the test of time
Verse 3
Lord Your mercy is so great
That You look beyond our weakness
And find purest gold in miry clay
Making sinners into saints
Verse 4
I will always sing Your praise
Here on earth and ever after
For You've shown me Heaven's my true home
When it's all been said and done
You're my life when life is gone
The song didn't give me any answers, as the song is questions only. I guess that means that God, rather than giving me a solid, easy, yes or no answer, brought to mind a song that only multiplied the questions. Great. Thanks! But that is where I am, did I do what I did here for the right reasons? If I did, then it was worth while, if I didn't, I hope and pray that God will use it anyway. I won't probably know about the impact that my life and actions in Sheridan may have had until heaven. That is the great drawback to ministry, and youth ministry specifically. We do lots and lots of work on hearts, we can't see hearts, and only in heaven will we be able to really see what work God was able to do through our feeble hands and hearts. In the end, "Only what I've done for love's reward, will stand the test of time."
June 5, 2010
Greetings from the deep end!!!
I finished packing up my desk at the ACE program yesterday afternoon. Stupid bittersweet days. I'm really really happy to be moving on to the next adventure in my life. But what I am coming to realize, especially over the last week or so is that I am really leaving one life behind and beginning a new one. So, as we humans do when a life ends, I find myself mourning the loss of what once was and to a degree, still is for the moment but will cease to be in the next 16 days.
I've noticed the people around me that I have worked with for the last 3 to 6 years are starting to plan the future, without me. Plans and situations that I once would have been a big part of I now find myself on the outside of looking on. If I weren't leaving I would feel jealous that I wasn't being included, but my logical mind (I do have a logical mind, in some situations) tells me that life here in Sheridan must go on without me. As I write and my thoughts get organized I realize that moving isn't here one day, gone the next, but rather a process that will be finalized 16 days from now. For me, things in Sheridan are coming to a close. Relationships are ending, projects are being finalized and I am sad. I feel as if I am watching my life slowly end.
The up side to all of this is that I will be reborn into my new life in 17 days. God has a plan and purpose for that new life. For each relationship lost or severed by hundreds of miles one will be made new to take it's place. For each project that I won't be able to work with and watch grow and change and become more and more useful there will be a new project to be birthed and swaddled. In the end, this change is what is best for me and my family. As I said, I look forward to the bright future ahead of me, but I mourn for what will be left and lost.
I finished packing up my desk at the ACE program yesterday afternoon. Stupid bittersweet days. I'm really really happy to be moving on to the next adventure in my life. But what I am coming to realize, especially over the last week or so is that I am really leaving one life behind and beginning a new one. So, as we humans do when a life ends, I find myself mourning the loss of what once was and to a degree, still is for the moment but will cease to be in the next 16 days.
I've noticed the people around me that I have worked with for the last 3 to 6 years are starting to plan the future, without me. Plans and situations that I once would have been a big part of I now find myself on the outside of looking on. If I weren't leaving I would feel jealous that I wasn't being included, but my logical mind (I do have a logical mind, in some situations) tells me that life here in Sheridan must go on without me. As I write and my thoughts get organized I realize that moving isn't here one day, gone the next, but rather a process that will be finalized 16 days from now. For me, things in Sheridan are coming to a close. Relationships are ending, projects are being finalized and I am sad. I feel as if I am watching my life slowly end.
The up side to all of this is that I will be reborn into my new life in 17 days. God has a plan and purpose for that new life. For each relationship lost or severed by hundreds of miles one will be made new to take it's place. For each project that I won't be able to work with and watch grow and change and become more and more useful there will be a new project to be birthed and swaddled. In the end, this change is what is best for me and my family. As I said, I look forward to the bright future ahead of me, but I mourn for what will be left and lost.
May 12, 2010
Andromeda Finn - Chapter 1 - Introduction
Greetings from the deep end!
I thought that it would be ever so much fun to start writing a short story today. Enjoy.
Andromeda Finn had a stupid name. Or at least he thought so. Andromeda's parents were a little weird, by everyone's standards, not just his. They had a crazy obsession with stars and planets and galaxies, thus his stupid name. It was because of that name that Andromeda was known as the child of the local "star nuts". His parents were always studying the stars and went to space conventions and made dumb space jokes. Both of them were teachers in the little town where their family had lived for generations. Andromeda's father was a science teacher and mother was a math teacher. Their classrooms were always full of posters and dioramas of the solar system. They were always talking about the stars and having their students do projects about them. The students in the school generally just thought Andromeda's parents were weird. As a seventh grader in a small town junior high of about eight hundred students, where his parents taught, he wasn't able to escape the negative influence of his families insane obsession for even a minute. In big cities kids could hide under the radar, they could fade into the crowd and hide in a mass of people. Andromeda did not get to enjoy that lifestyle. Everyone knew everyone else and he was often picked because his family was different, because his parents were "weird".
In many ways Andromeda was a normal kid. He enjoyed television, video games, movies and music. He was looking forward to learning to drive in a couple years and couldn't wait to get into high school where he might get a little relief from the grief he endured on a daily basis by going to school in the same place where his parents taught. The only real problem in Andromeda's life was the shame he felt from being related to people who he didn't understand, who he didn't feel that he belonged with. Andromeda was uncomfortable in his skin, uncomfortable in his surroundings, uncomfortable as a part of the family he was born into. Even that was common among other thirteen year olds, but Andromeda didn't know that. He only knew that he was unhappy and wanted to be a part of a "normal" family like everyone else.
When at school Andromeda often did everything he could to avoid other people. One day after school, Andromeda was walking down an out-of-the-way hall on his way to his father's classroom to wait for his ride home when he noticed an open door. Andromeda had never noticed a door down that hall before. He quickly decided that he simply hadn't been paying attention in the past and that the door had always been there. Andromeda made to walk by the door and continue on his way when curiosity got the better of him, and Andromeda chose to peek inside. He was astonished at the size of the room. It was easily as large as a gym, perhaps even bigger. The room contained piles and piles of odds and ends, wrestling mats, books, desks, boxes of pictures and trophies. There was an old score board leaned up against a wall next to a pile of old speakers and audio equipment. There was also a pile of old reel to reel video equipment and tapes on shelving in the middle of the room. This stuff looked old. Andromeda knew that the school had been a high school building years before but he had never thought that there may still be things stored from back then.
Taking a few steps into the room, Andromeda called a shy "hello" to see if anyone was in there. No response came so he entered further. As he walked around taking mental notes of all he saw there, Andromeda's mind began to wander, wondering what history left all of these things here. Who had used this stuff, why wasn't it thrown away? He wandered around until he made his way to the shelving with all of the video tapes on it. Andromeda began to read the titles to himself. Most of them were old school plays and football games, but as he came to the last reel his blood ran cold and the small hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The title of the last video was, "Andromeda Finn".
I thought that it would be ever so much fun to start writing a short story today. Enjoy.
Andromeda Finn had a stupid name. Or at least he thought so. Andromeda's parents were a little weird, by everyone's standards, not just his. They had a crazy obsession with stars and planets and galaxies, thus his stupid name. It was because of that name that Andromeda was known as the child of the local "star nuts". His parents were always studying the stars and went to space conventions and made dumb space jokes. Both of them were teachers in the little town where their family had lived for generations. Andromeda's father was a science teacher and mother was a math teacher. Their classrooms were always full of posters and dioramas of the solar system. They were always talking about the stars and having their students do projects about them. The students in the school generally just thought Andromeda's parents were weird. As a seventh grader in a small town junior high of about eight hundred students, where his parents taught, he wasn't able to escape the negative influence of his families insane obsession for even a minute. In big cities kids could hide under the radar, they could fade into the crowd and hide in a mass of people. Andromeda did not get to enjoy that lifestyle. Everyone knew everyone else and he was often picked because his family was different, because his parents were "weird".
In many ways Andromeda was a normal kid. He enjoyed television, video games, movies and music. He was looking forward to learning to drive in a couple years and couldn't wait to get into high school where he might get a little relief from the grief he endured on a daily basis by going to school in the same place where his parents taught. The only real problem in Andromeda's life was the shame he felt from being related to people who he didn't understand, who he didn't feel that he belonged with. Andromeda was uncomfortable in his skin, uncomfortable in his surroundings, uncomfortable as a part of the family he was born into. Even that was common among other thirteen year olds, but Andromeda didn't know that. He only knew that he was unhappy and wanted to be a part of a "normal" family like everyone else.
When at school Andromeda often did everything he could to avoid other people. One day after school, Andromeda was walking down an out-of-the-way hall on his way to his father's classroom to wait for his ride home when he noticed an open door. Andromeda had never noticed a door down that hall before. He quickly decided that he simply hadn't been paying attention in the past and that the door had always been there. Andromeda made to walk by the door and continue on his way when curiosity got the better of him, and Andromeda chose to peek inside. He was astonished at the size of the room. It was easily as large as a gym, perhaps even bigger. The room contained piles and piles of odds and ends, wrestling mats, books, desks, boxes of pictures and trophies. There was an old score board leaned up against a wall next to a pile of old speakers and audio equipment. There was also a pile of old reel to reel video equipment and tapes on shelving in the middle of the room. This stuff looked old. Andromeda knew that the school had been a high school building years before but he had never thought that there may still be things stored from back then.
Taking a few steps into the room, Andromeda called a shy "hello" to see if anyone was in there. No response came so he entered further. As he walked around taking mental notes of all he saw there, Andromeda's mind began to wander, wondering what history left all of these things here. Who had used this stuff, why wasn't it thrown away? He wandered around until he made his way to the shelving with all of the video tapes on it. Andromeda began to read the titles to himself. Most of them were old school plays and football games, but as he came to the last reel his blood ran cold and the small hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The title of the last video was, "Andromeda Finn".
May 10, 2010
Sad Confessions of a Small Town Techie
Greetings from the deep end!
It's been a while hasn't it? I should write more, but I have seriously been lacking in the inspiration department as of late. This morning I found some inspiration tucked away in a forgotten drawer of my work desk next to the salt and pepper shakers that I keep there for emergencies. Actually, it came from two more much more common and less entertaining places (though I do have salt and pepper shakers in my work desk). First a friend of mine made mention of some of his audio recording technical woes on Facebook and I commented on it. After that comment I was pondering the whole gamut of technology and technological issues when I remembered some technical issues that I had yesterday morning while setting stage and sound for a Pacific Life Bible College missions team at our church in Sheridan. Thus inspiration was born.
My friend wrote that he was having some technical troubles in the recording studio, to which I replied, "Audio stuff is just like really really expensive legos. You gotta take it all apart and put it back together again from time to time or you aren't getting the full value out of the product." How in the world did I adopt such an optimistic view of technical trouble? Why am I not like the people in the world who would much rather blow up the system than fix it? The answer to that question is simple. My name is Derick Brown... and I am... a... TECHIE!!!
Techie - web definition - a term, derivative of the word technology, for a person who displays a great, sometimes even obsessive, interest in technology, high-tech devices, and particularly computers...
I enjoy tearing apart a sound system and putting it back together better than it was before. I look forward to such projects almost as much as I look forward to Christmas. Since I hastily rebuilt our system for the traveling group, I get to re-rebuild it for our use this evening. I am so excited. We (Pam, Xander and I) are going to pull all of the cables and snakes in the system, clear the sound board and plug it all back in so that it is more organized and more easily used by the remaining members of the church after Pam the kids and I leave. Think of it as spring cleaning for musicians. We will be throwing away all of the old busted drum sticks that have accumulated behind the drum cage, we are going to untangle the spaghetti bowl of cables and we are going to find out what channels are really shot and which ones are just faking.
What does this situation have to do with everyman? I say it has everything to do with everyman. Everyman has things in his life that need to be gone over and repaired from time to time. Not so much physical, tangible things as I have been writing about today, but my heart is pushing me more towards speaking of relationships. Every relationship needs to be gone over from time to time so that it can continue to function at its prime potential. It is good to spend some real time with a spouse or friend from time to time and just talk. Take a moment and let them know you still care. Talk about past hurts that haven't been dealt with, untangle emotions and thoughts that may have run away from you over the past however long has it has been since the relationship was last evaluated and repaired. Relationship cleaning is like rebuilding a church sound system, it doesn't have to be done. A person can still continue to just modify things to make things continue to work. The problem with however, is that, the more you modify, the more tangled things get, and the better the chance of a break down. Everything works much better when we can begin again from a fresh build from time to time. Though they are both necessary for a productive system, I do not enjoy rebuilding a relationship as much as I do a sound system, but then again, I am a Techie, not a Relationship-ie.
What does this situation have to do with everyman? I say it has everything to do with everyman. Everyman has things in his life that need to be gone over and repaired from time to time. Not so much physical, tangible things as I have been writing about today, but my heart is pushing me more towards speaking of relationships. Every relationship needs to be gone over from time to time so that it can continue to function at its prime potential. It is good to spend some real time with a spouse or friend from time to time and just talk. Take a moment and let them know you still care. Talk about past hurts that haven't been dealt with, untangle emotions and thoughts that may have run away from you over the past however long has it has been since the relationship was last evaluated and repaired. Relationship cleaning is like rebuilding a church sound system, it doesn't have to be done. A person can still continue to just modify things to make things continue to work. The problem with however, is that, the more you modify, the more tangled things get, and the better the chance of a break down. Everything works much better when we can begin again from a fresh build from time to time. Though they are both necessary for a productive system, I do not enjoy rebuilding a relationship as much as I do a sound system, but then again, I am a Techie, not a Relationship-ie.
April 25, 2010
Sending the Discipled
Greetings from the deep end!
Many things have happened since I last wrote. I have been bursting with ideas and thoughts but have chosen to wait so that my loved ones would not be hurt needlessly. At FLC we believe that we are called to three things 1 - reaching the lost, 2 - discipling the saved, 3 - sending the discipled. It is often said that when we teach or when we serve we gain more than we give. My family's current situation is similar. We have lived and served in Sheridan for six years. We have taught, we have fought and we have loved, but most of all we have learned. God set us in a place where we could be discipled through living life and now we are being sent from our home in Sheridan to a new church family in Rapid City SD.
Pam and I have accepted a position at Destiny Foursquare Church as their new full time youth pastors. Looking into the future we see opportunity to continue being discipled and to continue our growth as leaders and family. This time is looked at with a great deal of excitement and happiness when we consider the possibilities for new friends and family but also with a great deal of sadness as we prepare to leave the family we have gained here over the past six years. Sadly, sometimes we are put in positions where we must "practice what we preach". This time we (me, Pam, Xander and Aryll) are the disciples being sent.
Many things have happened since I last wrote. I have been bursting with ideas and thoughts but have chosen to wait so that my loved ones would not be hurt needlessly. At FLC we believe that we are called to three things 1 - reaching the lost, 2 - discipling the saved, 3 - sending the discipled. It is often said that when we teach or when we serve we gain more than we give. My family's current situation is similar. We have lived and served in Sheridan for six years. We have taught, we have fought and we have loved, but most of all we have learned. God set us in a place where we could be discipled through living life and now we are being sent from our home in Sheridan to a new church family in Rapid City SD.
Pam and I have accepted a position at Destiny Foursquare Church as their new full time youth pastors. Looking into the future we see opportunity to continue being discipled and to continue our growth as leaders and family. This time is looked at with a great deal of excitement and happiness when we consider the possibilities for new friends and family but also with a great deal of sadness as we prepare to leave the family we have gained here over the past six years. Sadly, sometimes we are put in positions where we must "practice what we preach". This time we (me, Pam, Xander and Aryll) are the disciples being sent.
April 14, 2010
If I Only Had a Reset Button
Greetings from the deep end!
The Wizard of Oz is a stupid movie. Yea, I said it, The Wizard of Oz is a stupid movie. I'll say it again! The Wizard of Oz.... Seriously, we all have brains and hearts. We may choose not to use them, but we do all have them. Even courage is found more often than not in humanity. What we really should be searching for, what all of humanity really needs, is a reset button.
A friend was over at my house last night and he showed me how to do a battery pull (reset) on my Blackberry without actually pulling the battery. This morning I tried it and of course it worked and saved me tons of time trying to remove my Otter Box case and then pull the battery, then spend six hours trying to get the case to set on it properly again. I am all thumbs, and this phone case is an engineering masterpiece. By that I mean that you need to have an advance degree in engineering to master the use of it. Anyway, I was thinking about how awesome it was to be able to hit three buttons a couple of times and save myself a half of an hour of frustration. As my thoughts raced out of my control I realized that a human restart button would assuredly save much more than a half hour of frustration for the average human each day!
Think of it, feeling groggy? Hit your reset button. Can't sleep? Hit your reset button. Kid's being schmucks? Press their reset button!
Yea, courage is nothing when compared to the awesomeness that would be the human reset button.
Government need reset? We have a button for that. Students acting up? We have a button for that. Getting fed up? You have a button for that.
It would be AWESOME!!! No more groggy head, no more being overwhelmed. Beautiful. Sing with me people! ♪♫If we only had a reset button♫♪
The Wizard of Oz is a stupid movie. Yea, I said it, The Wizard of Oz is a stupid movie. I'll say it again! The Wizard of Oz.... Seriously, we all have brains and hearts. We may choose not to use them, but we do all have them. Even courage is found more often than not in humanity. What we really should be searching for, what all of humanity really needs, is a reset button.
A friend was over at my house last night and he showed me how to do a battery pull (reset) on my Blackberry without actually pulling the battery. This morning I tried it and of course it worked and saved me tons of time trying to remove my Otter Box case and then pull the battery, then spend six hours trying to get the case to set on it properly again. I am all thumbs, and this phone case is an engineering masterpiece. By that I mean that you need to have an advance degree in engineering to master the use of it. Anyway, I was thinking about how awesome it was to be able to hit three buttons a couple of times and save myself a half of an hour of frustration. As my thoughts raced out of my control I realized that a human restart button would assuredly save much more than a half hour of frustration for the average human each day!
Think of it, feeling groggy? Hit your reset button. Can't sleep? Hit your reset button. Kid's being schmucks? Press their reset button!
Yea, courage is nothing when compared to the awesomeness that would be the human reset button.
Government need reset? We have a button for that. Students acting up? We have a button for that. Getting fed up? You have a button for that.
It would be AWESOME!!! No more groggy head, no more being overwhelmed. Beautiful. Sing with me people! ♪♫If we only had a reset button♫♪
April 11, 2010
Patience. Carrot or Rod?
Greetings from the deep end!
It would seem that I have regained some of my lost brain power as I feel that it is time to take hold of a more difficult topic than my previous posts have contained. I realize that I have spoken of patience in past blogs but that is okay because today's post deals solely with the recurrence of the "patience" lesson. Today I realized that the more patience one learns, the more patience one needs. That is to say, one always needs a little more patience than they have at present.
This leads me to one very great very, non-patient question; WHY!?! Why is it that as we go through life, growing up that is, we always need more patience. When is enough enough? Never fear my friends, Derick is on the case. My quest for answers to the "why" question has led me to two possible answers regarding the role of the "patience" lesson in life.
First, patience may be as a carrot dangled in front of a horse. I believe that patience may be simply a lesson that a person strives to gain and is thus led through life with the hope of attaining an impossible goal. "Oh, I don't have enough patience with Xander because he just punched me in the face and I yelled, guess I learned a good lesson and won't have that problem again." The next day, "Oh, Xander just punched me in the face four times and I yelled at him guess I learned my lesson and I won't do that again." Three months later, "Oh, Xander just punched me in the face stomped on my nose and broke my toe and I yelled...." See what I mean? It will never end! Sometimes I really feel like that. I feel that patience can never really be achieved but only added to and that it is in deed a goal that will always be heightened just a little higher than I can reach.
The second possibility is that "patience" is a rod shepherding me towards adulthood. In this case, it would seem that before God will allow me to accomplish the things I wish to accomplish and that I believe He wants me to accomplish I must reach a "patience bar" that He has set before me. It often seems that just as I reach a new level of patience in life God rewards me with new levels of responsibility. Not always a good thing, right? Well, not from the sloth perspective. However, from the perspective of a man-in-training, new levels of responsibility are par for the course.
As often happens, as I have been writing this I have come to a third option and one that better fits the scheme. Patience is both a carrot and a rod. It is a carrot when we are too scared to go ahead on our own and a rod when we are more zealous for the future than we should be. That is one of the most awesome things about patience, it can get you what you need and take you where you want to go, depending on the situation.
“Patience is the companion of wisdom.”
Saint Augustine
It would seem that I have regained some of my lost brain power as I feel that it is time to take hold of a more difficult topic than my previous posts have contained. I realize that I have spoken of patience in past blogs but that is okay because today's post deals solely with the recurrence of the "patience" lesson. Today I realized that the more patience one learns, the more patience one needs. That is to say, one always needs a little more patience than they have at present.
This leads me to one very great very, non-patient question; WHY!?! Why is it that as we go through life, growing up that is, we always need more patience. When is enough enough? Never fear my friends, Derick is on the case. My quest for answers to the "why" question has led me to two possible answers regarding the role of the "patience" lesson in life.
First, patience may be as a carrot dangled in front of a horse. I believe that patience may be simply a lesson that a person strives to gain and is thus led through life with the hope of attaining an impossible goal. "Oh, I don't have enough patience with Xander because he just punched me in the face and I yelled, guess I learned a good lesson and won't have that problem again." The next day, "Oh, Xander just punched me in the face four times and I yelled at him guess I learned my lesson and I won't do that again." Three months later, "Oh, Xander just punched me in the face stomped on my nose and broke my toe and I yelled...." See what I mean? It will never end! Sometimes I really feel like that. I feel that patience can never really be achieved but only added to and that it is in deed a goal that will always be heightened just a little higher than I can reach.
The second possibility is that "patience" is a rod shepherding me towards adulthood. In this case, it would seem that before God will allow me to accomplish the things I wish to accomplish and that I believe He wants me to accomplish I must reach a "patience bar" that He has set before me. It often seems that just as I reach a new level of patience in life God rewards me with new levels of responsibility. Not always a good thing, right? Well, not from the sloth perspective. However, from the perspective of a man-in-training, new levels of responsibility are par for the course.
As often happens, as I have been writing this I have come to a third option and one that better fits the scheme. Patience is both a carrot and a rod. It is a carrot when we are too scared to go ahead on our own and a rod when we are more zealous for the future than we should be. That is one of the most awesome things about patience, it can get you what you need and take you where you want to go, depending on the situation.
“Patience is the companion of wisdom.”
Saint Augustine
April 8, 2010
Idiosyncrasies of a Half-Brained Father
Greetings from the deep end!
Three weeks have passed since we have become four. It seems like an eternity. But not in a bad way...well, there is a bad cause for the feeling but it is natural I think. Last night I got home from Youth at about 9:45pm. I had a snack and read some of a book and stayed up hoping that Aryll would go to sleep so that Pam and I could go to bed at the same time. I put the book down at 11:00pm and had planned to go ahead and go to sleep because Pam wanted me to as I had to get up this morning for work. Right after I had put my book down I half rolled over and began to stare at the door. I stared and stared until Pam came into the room. I asked her what time it was and she said it was now 11:30pm! I stared at an open door for thirty minutes! Not only did I stay up until 11:30 and stare at a door (A DOOR!?!) for thirty minutes, but I woke up ten minutes before my alarm at 6:40 this morning.
I have never slept so little as I have since the girl was born. I still function for the most part but if this is growing up, I am not sure I want to anymore. I enjoy sleep; I think it should replace baseball as the national pastime. I actually think that sleep already has become our great nation’s pastime but has not yet gained the title. Growing up is, however, the purpose of my humble little blog, referred to in the title. The "deep end" is referring to my trek into adulthood, and thus justifying this essay as a proper addition to my accounts.
The title of this addition to deep end begins with the word, "idiosyncrasies". Because the word ends in an "s" we know that it is referring to more than one (or multiple) items. The lack of sleep and the zombie like effect it causes are only two of the idiosyncrasies of a new father that I have noticed. Interestingly enough, I have only noticed them this time. I believe that when my son was born, as he made me a true "new father", I was too far gone to notice much of anything. In fact, my earliest memories of Xander's life begin about two months ago. Anyhow, there are a few more issues I have noted, and in no particular order...
Three weeks have passed since we have become four. It seems like an eternity. But not in a bad way...well, there is a bad cause for the feeling but it is natural I think. Last night I got home from Youth at about 9:45pm. I had a snack and read some of a book and stayed up hoping that Aryll would go to sleep so that Pam and I could go to bed at the same time. I put the book down at 11:00pm and had planned to go ahead and go to sleep because Pam wanted me to as I had to get up this morning for work. Right after I had put my book down I half rolled over and began to stare at the door. I stared and stared until Pam came into the room. I asked her what time it was and she said it was now 11:30pm! I stared at an open door for thirty minutes! Not only did I stay up until 11:30 and stare at a door (A DOOR!?!) for thirty minutes, but I woke up ten minutes before my alarm at 6:40 this morning.
I have never slept so little as I have since the girl was born. I still function for the most part but if this is growing up, I am not sure I want to anymore. I enjoy sleep; I think it should replace baseball as the national pastime. I actually think that sleep already has become our great nation’s pastime but has not yet gained the title. Growing up is, however, the purpose of my humble little blog, referred to in the title. The "deep end" is referring to my trek into adulthood, and thus justifying this essay as a proper addition to my accounts.
The title of this addition to deep end begins with the word, "idiosyncrasies". Because the word ends in an "s" we know that it is referring to more than one (or multiple) items. The lack of sleep and the zombie like effect it causes are only two of the idiosyncrasies of a new father that I have noticed. Interestingly enough, I have only noticed them this time. I believe that when my son was born, as he made me a true "new father", I was too far gone to notice much of anything. In fact, my earliest memories of Xander's life begin about two months ago. Anyhow, there are a few more issues I have noted, and in no particular order...
- Twitches, shakes, and knee jerk reactions - These may all stem from one or both of these two causes; lack of sleep and/or the copious amounts of coffee used to combat the other effects of lack of sleep. I guess that really only leaves one option for the root cause of the twitches, shakes and knee jerk reactions - lack of sleep. However, these are still separate conditions from lack of sleep (aka; LOSS - Lack of Sleep Syndrome).
- Having the appearance of a long time stoner - As well as being a direct effect of LOSS, having the appearance of being a long time stoner is augmented by the inevitable puke stains acquired from the little one.
- The inability to say anything of consequence and the annoying habit of spouting gibberish at random and often inappropriate times - Rather than simply attributing this symptom of new fatherhood to LOSS, I have explored and am leaning toward the cause being three fold. 1.) The mass change within the household a new child brings. 2.) LOSS 3.) The19 month old terror that has decided he wants to be terrible and two NOW!
- Being perpetually half-brained - At this juncture, the reader may think to themselves something along the lines of, "Derick, you have always been perpetually half brained!" And that reader may be correct, but I do not believe that I have ever been this half brained.
- Prayer life increases - Interestingly enough, and all joking aside, having been at the bottom of the energy barrel for three weeks, I have a better understanding of what it means for God to be strong when we are weak. It doesn't just mean that when we are humble God is strong. I suffer from LOSS but have yet to get sick, or freak out or truly lose my mind, because in the thick of it all, I pray and God continues to make up for my inadequacies.
I listen to much more aggressive music than most people, and I believe that some of the best music, some of the best, most passionate lyrics come from some of the least likely places. This chorus from Flyleaf's song "Perfect" makes my point perfectly. :)
Perfect in weakness
I'm only perfect in just Your strength alone
Perfect in weakness
I'm only running in just Your strength alone
Perfect in weakness
I'm only perfect in just Your strength alone
Perfect in weakness
I'm only running in just Your strength alone
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