Overripe

Yesterday I was going to throw some overripe bananas out. My wife told me to stop, that she was going to make banana bread. I was grateful that they could be used.

When we were in Mexico banana bread was brought as a treat for the Mexican leadership. They were gobbled it down, until someone showed them some of the overripe bananas they had to make the next batch. As soon as the Mexicans saw the bananas, they spit out their mouthfuls of banana bread and tried to trick some unsuspecting Mexicans who didn't know what it was made of to try it. If someone "bit", so to speak, the others would point out with glee the overripe bananas, and they in turn would spit it out.

Several days later, I was invited to eat "barbacoa", which is a meat made out of beef cheek and tongue. They ate it with relish. when I described it to some on the team, there were a few who looked a little disgusted.

It is all what we have been sensitized by our culture to  comprehend what we should put in our mouth and what we shouldn't.

Self portrait

On the last day of camp in Mexico we had to draw a likeness of ourself and place it on a large board that held other children's likeness as well.

I think the one I did looks a lot like me. What do you think?

Mattress competition

I was on the stage of the convention center talking to someone. I heard the sound of cheering and looked up to the area we were sleeping in and saw people running, jumping on the floor and standing up further down the way.

In investigating the phenomenon it turned out that someone had donated their mattress to the cause and they were seeing who could slide the furthest. Of course they had markers (flip-flops) for the farthest male slide and female slide. Even some of the older adults and Mexican leaders got in the action. There were some super-competitors who would not let the activity go, until they had traveled the farthest.

One example in many where we think a crazy thought, perform it and then use it as a measuring tool for determining rank and status among our peers.

Unthinkingly like Jesus

Wednesday night at dinner I took my plate back for seconds, unaware that the cooks had just enough food to go around once. As I showed up at the cooking area, Jovita, one of the ladies who have served us, in Mexico, through the ministry of cooking, looked up, saw me coming, and deftly flicked the beans from her plate back into the pot that had cooked the beans. I attempted to say that I didn’t need a second helping, but seeing as how English doesn’t go so far when the other only speaks Spanish, she smiled at me and spooned that last of the beans onto my plate.

I was moved by her testimony of selflessness without even thinking about it. It was embedded into the nature of her service.

God whispers His nature to us through others and if you don’t pay attention, you could miss hearing his voice altogether.

The little things

One of the adventures of Mexico is eating the food and drinking the water. On different days various members of our team would be out of commission with gastro-intestinal issues. The bathrooms which may have been a little disgusting now was the only room one wanted to be in.

It is amazing to me that things that you can't even see can hurt you so badly. As the team members went down, others were analyzing the possible causes.  It was never really known, but one theory was that in pouring ice into the drinking coolers, some of the condensation from the outside of the ice bag poured in as well, contaminating the rest of the water. At other times the outside of the bag was so dirty they sprayed it off from the water hose, and that could have leaked into the water.

Overall, there were many ways the critters could be ingested. It just is, once you had it, even though you couldn't see it, you knew it. 

And you had strong motivation to purge yourself of it.

If they aren't asking...

One thing that I am struggling to learn is a simple concept. "If they aren't asking, they don't want to know.

After my many years as a therapist, I find that I struggle with not attempting to fix what someone else doesn't want fixed or doesn't see a need to fix. As a therapist I was paid, either by the client to confront their reluctance, or confronting a client as a representative of a third party payer. 

I can be prepared to answer questions, but if they aren't asking, it is a pretty clear directive that they don't want to know. It has been a struggle, but I find it freeing when I rest in that statement.

Jesus the super-hero

In our country Jesus is looked at by many as a personal assistant. He may be considered a personal savior, a personal get out of jail free card, a personal financial advisor and personal health care advisor. 

In Valle Hermosa Jesus appeared to be a super-hero tough enough to kick the devil's butt. In the expression of the people we were with in Mexico, Jesus protected them from bullies. We watched through mime how the devil was creeping around to destroy people. When the Jesus figure showed up, he would push the devil away from the person he was delivering. If it got physical, the Jesus actor would get physical back and push the devil around When the devil got pushed around, the audience would cheer and applaud, almost like Jesus had made a move in the WWF.

I think what we see in Jesus is what we think we need help with.

Love is in the coloring

At the camp in Mexico one of the activities we did with the children was snacks. On the second day there was a girl in attendance named "Jama". She had been interacting with the other children just fine. As soon as snack was over, plates were collected and coloring pages an crayons were distributed to the snack tables. 

The children all grabbed for the bowls with the crayons and started working on their sheet. "Jama" attempted to take some color crayons as well but the bowl was pulled away from her. She sat back in her seat and refused to take any crayons. Her eyes became incredibly sad and you could see her spirit leaking out of her, leaving her body deflated.

I tried to get her to take some crayons. She refused. She didn't look angry or spiteful. She looked sad and wounded. It looked like things being pulled away from her was a common occurrence and it was easier for her not to want.

I sat down next to her and started coloring her picture. It took her a minute before she picked up a crayon and started coloring another part of the picture. We completed the picture together. While she colored, you could see her spirit rise and her sadness evaporate. By the time the picture was completed, an energetic glow emanated from her. Later in the day, before she left the camp, she came running up to me and hugged my neck.

Sometimes love has to make the first move to affirm a hurting heart. Sometimes love picks up a crayon and starts to color the picture, until another feels encouraged enough to join in.

5 years and counting!

Today is a great day. It was five years ago that my wife discovered the lump that changed our lives. Today at her oncology physical she was officially declared a 5 year survivor. That is so good to hear.  She was also told that she doesn't have to come back for a year. 

My wife turns 50 this month and it is not a time of dread about getting older. It is a time to celebrate! Each day is a day to celebrate!

Truth in advertising

The last day of kids camp, we ran out of food halfway through feeding everyone in attendance. The churches provided sandwiches for the children who attended the camp, their parents, and the staff that had been working with the kids. There were a few of the staff people who hadn't eaten. We were told that the kitchen staff had gone out and purchased 60 hamburgers that would be arriving shortly. After many days of different food, that sounded appetizing. The bags arrived in medium brown bags with grease stains on the outside. I have to admit I was excited.

I asked for one and I got a hamburger wrapped in paper. I unwrapped it and looked at it. It had a large bun, with lettuce, mayonnaise, ... and a medium width slice of ham. I did a double take. No juices flowing down my chin, no ground beef to chomp into. Ham.  After my initial let down, it tasted fairly good. They were not kidding. It was a hamburger.

But I have to say I am worried. The night before, we went out for hot dogs.

Sounds the same in any language

Friday night in Mexico we attended a "youth rally" put on by a local church. They had a kickin' band that got the crowds moving. I looked around and noticed that "youth" was a relative word. There were a few youths there,but there were also a lot of older people. 

A quasi-"mime" troop get up and performed a drama where the Devil was trying to get a soul. When Jesus kicks the Devil's butt, the Devil ran out of the auditorium screaming, clipping my left side as he ran by. I have to say it was a little unnerving to almost being run over by the Devil.

A pastor got up and started preaching. He started slow, reasonable, but then he started to pick it up. He went softer and softer, and just when you were straining to hear him he started shouting and wagging his finger at the crowd.

I couldn't understand a word of what he was preaching as it was all in Spanish. But I have sat under preachers like him. The intent of his message crystal clear.

What puzzles me is the belief of these preachers, that the louder one shouts, the greater the impact for God. What I have found through that style of preaching is that it creates "emotions junkies", jonesing for another hit of Jesus passion. It creates an addictive pattern of needing to recreate the feeling one had at the service where the pastor was screaming. 

The cycle consists of an unsustainable Jesus high, followed by a drop in fervor over the next few days, moving to a failure to live up to the high standards set for following Jesus, which then leads to shame, guilt, and fear and a desperate need to get another fix from the screaming pastor. And the pastor seems more than willing to supply it. 

I guess it's nice to be needed.

One hot mike!

The women who were going to lead the singing and dancing at the opening part of the kids camp were waiting around for the sound system to get up and running. One of the men gave her the microphone and another switched the power on. The woman holding the microphone squealed and threw it to the floor. Another person attempted to pick it up. He dropped it as well. He looked around and found an extra shirt lying around and wrapped the mike in it.

She tenuously took the mike from the man's hand and went ahead with the program. At one point she held the mike too close to her lips, her head shot back with a squeal. She kept hold of the mike and the dance step, not missing a beat.

After it was over two men went to look at the system to figure out what was happening. One of the men laid his hands on a part of the sound board, uttered a cry and fell on his back, hands trembling in the air like a drunk with the DTs.

In examining the problem, what was revealed was that they had no grounding of the system. Anytime they attempted to use a component of the sound system they got shocked.

Adding a ground to the wiring solved the problem and we made it through the rest of the week without even one electrocution.

Getting back from Mexico

I'm back. It has been a week of not being able to access my normal communication tools. It is glorious and strange being back. Life was so different where we stayed.

We worked in Valle Hermosa, a town just south of the Texas border not far from Harlingen, Texas. Our job was to assist the local Mexican churches there as they put on a kids camp. The original estimate was 600 kids. We ended up with a little over two hundred which was far more manageable for our staff to handle.

Our group consisted of 17 people who represented Salem Covenant Church in New Brighton. Some in high school, some just out of high school and a few "older" adults.

The trip was amazing. The people there were poor by American standards, and didn't have the amenities we have back here in Minnesota. The area is covered with a fine Mexican dust, that turns to stubborn tightfisted mud in the rain showers. The water and some of the food can make you sick.

But the love, the joy, the graciousness of the Mexican community we served with was overwhelming. Their giving and loving made the hardships inconsequential. It was infectious like a holy disease. All you could do is submit to it, or walk away.

They are not perfect people. Far from it. But the love and the joy expressed covered a lot of imperfections.

I am back at work now. I feel caught between two worlds. There is a sense of a larger picture, an expanding group of friends, and love growing in more than one location. I learned a lot during this trip and the blogs to be forthcoming hopefully will reflect some of the things I learned from this trip.

Missing just one thing

I have been reading a book called "Infidel" by Ayaan Hirsi Ali. In one of the chapters she talked about how the clerics kept people in line by placing the fear of going to hell in them. It was amazingly similar to some of my experiences in the evangelical church.

I have known people who are consumed with passionately making sure that people are "saved" from hell. They make a big show of being concerned about the eternal welfare of others. Their lives are devoted to it.

A definition of Hell that I agree with is "anyplace" that is seperated from God, or devoid of God, and consequently devoid of love.

It has been my observation that those who people I described above are ones that are living in hell. They torture themselves and others. They don't appear loving. They are motivated by fear. They feel fear and they pass it on to others.  You can smell it in them and you can see it in the faces of others around them. Love is not in them.

There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love.

Things I don't understand 2

I don't understand why we are so willing to share our joys with others, but we keep our sadness and pain to ourselves, while we suffer alone. It may be because we are afraid to face who are really our friends.

The people we hide

I was joking around with the waiter the way I always had. We poked good natured fun at each other. Then something triggered inside him and he started talking about the difficulties that he had faced in the last few years.

He talked about the pain that he felt and the goodness of people in his life. I'm not sure I understand why he chose this time to speak his mind. Perhaps he felt safe enough to talk. 

It was a great reminder that everyone has a story. In our fun, we can easily cross lines and injure people. Or we can be a healing presence to others. We have no idea the impact we have on another or the story they are hiding.

My lying heart!

I saw a bumper sticker that read "I love Jesus, it's his followers I can't stand." The charge is that they are hypocrites, not living up to the words of Jesus.

I was at a church that would be considered "emergent". The setting was very different than most "churches". When participants were given the opportunity to speak, one woman got up and requested prayer for all the churches that were so judgmental.

In following Jesus, ideology, or any other teacher, I listen to the teachings. From the teachings I interpret. If I am unsure, I lean on those around me of who I perceived as of like mind. I have a sincere desire to get things right. Once there is revelation or interpretation, I tend to incorporate that into my life. Then I attempt to make sure those around me “get it right” as well.

But my heart lies to me! I want to believe in my own sincerity in my thoughts and intentions. I am a good man on a good course. I believe I am following the tenets of the ideology. A sense of pride, a sense of “I see the light” settles in and I believe I am on the path to the promised land!

As an example, I have been looking for practical ways to reduce my impact on our environment. I have worked hard to get my home garbage output down, as well as making sure what ends up in the land fill biodegrades as much as possible.

Just the other day I needed to obtain a stool sample of my dog from a deposit in the front yard. I was looking for a plastic spoon so I wouldn't soil one of my stainless spoons. The visual of using a spoon that had canine fecal matter on it at one time was not a image I relish recalling. I found a box plastic forks. Since I needed a spoon I put the box back. A recycling symbol caught my eye on the corner of the box. It encouraged recycling the box. Obviously not the forks! The package touted using less plastic in their product. I shook my head at their pitiable gesture. I reasoned that their packaging would disintegrate in the landfill far before their product would, and wasn't that pathetic!

I found a plastic spoon and took it out in the front yard where I retrieved a stool sample, put it in a disposable plastic Ziploc sandwich bag and sealed it up to take it to the vet clinic. After my self-righteous mental rant, it dawned on me that I might be a "green" hypocrite. I certainly wasn't doing any better than that company I was judging so harshly. I WAS judging their intentions much more severely than I was my own. I was creating plastic non-biodegradable waste for my own convenience.

Words of wisdom for all of us hypocrites out there… you know who you are! 'Fess up.

"Don't pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults— unless, of course, you want the same treatment. That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging. It's easy to see a smudge on your neighbor's face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own. Do you have the nerve to say, 'Let me wash your face for you,' when your own face is distorted by contempt? It's this whole traveling road-show mentality all over again, playing a holier-than-thou part instead of just living your part. Wipe that ugly sneer off your own face, and you might be fit to offer a washcloth to your neighbor

Challenges and more challenges

Don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.

Here is the short blog. 

There a lot of things that happened this weekend that we didn't predict. I can spend time worrying about life, but it is the unpredicted events that can throw us off kilter. It may be a blessing that we don't see these things coming, because I think we would be much more tempted to check out on life. The admonition to not worry about the future makes sense, because it keeps us from getting paralyzed today, instead of celebrating it.

The long blog if you care to read it.

We were going up to watch our son run in Grandma's marathon. I was going to drop my wife off and pick her up at work on our way out of town. She ends up at a different location where she needs her car. She also doesn't feel well. One of my other sons who is joining us, isn't getting off work until "sometime between 4 and 5PM". I take the dog out in the early afternoon and her stool is an odd color, and she is throwing up the water she has just ingested. I am concerned and take a stool sample to our vet. The vet clinic said there were no parasites, but the color of the stool is concerning and that the dog should be checked out because it could be life threatening. They say I can't bring her in to the vet because it so close to the end of their day. I need to bring the dog in to the Emergency vet ho$pital. The dog continues to produce scary looking stools but presents with happy-go-lucky dogface.

Deep breath!

My wife is feeling better we decide to go for it. We reserved a room in Moose Lake that night. We get a call asking if we could bring my son's fiancé's sister up. We say yes, as long as the dog's exam isn't serious. My wife gets home, we pack up the car, drive down, pick up my son, head to the vet clinic where we are told that the dog looks okay, but keep an eye on her. We call fiancé's sister to say we are heading north so we have a seat in our car if she still wants it. She does. The phone rings. My wife's mother has taken a bad fall and is at the hospital. We put together contingencies, but my wife's sister was in town and is graciously willing to stay at the hospital. We were still heading north.We meet in a Cub parking lot and fiancé's sister gets in. The good thing is because it is so late in the afternoon the out-of-town traffic was pretty light. Delivered fiancé's sister where she needs to be and head back to hotel. All goes well checking in. Dog produced another icky stool but seems perky and energetic.

Deep breath!

The next day starts pretty normally. The dog seems to have new life and is ready for life's adventures de-jour. Sis-in-law calls to say there is no surgery scheduled for my mother-in-law.  We find our party at mile marker 19 of Grandma's marathon. Traffic is lighter than expected. We watch a person go by and cheer for him, before realizing that that was not our son! Oops! Our son bounds by shortly after. We make no mistake this time. The dog hasn't eaten anything for 20 hours and is wanting to explore and challenge everything. The end of the marathon, my son did an outstanding 3:59:11 minutes on the marathon. We all celebrate, my son limps around. We go out to eat. Call comes in that mother-in-law is still not in surgery and she hasn't eaten all day. We head back home with the idea of dropping my wife off at her parent's home and she borrow a car. I drop her off, drop my son off, go to the vet hospital where I am told the dog looks like she is doing okay. Dog and I head home.

Cleansing breath!

At the end of the weekend it was good. We were able to affirm our love for our son by being spectators for a challenging task of his. There were challenges to overcome, and we overcame them and had a good weekend. I think knowing what would have to take place we might have been sorely tempted to just stay home... but I'm glad we didn't.

Things I don't understand 1

I don't understand why, if we are supposed to present a professional image at work and asked to wear a certain type of clothing, why is it that if management wants to treat you they offer to let you wear less professional looking clothes.

What happened to the image they wanted to uphold?

Random acts of bananas

For the last class period in my Interpersonal Relations class, students can bring in food to share. I came upon the brilliant idea to bring in bunches of bananas. They are good for you, already prepared and neatly wrapped for individual consumption.

I over-estimated the amount that would be consumed so I had quite a few left over. I decided to personally randomly distribute them among my co-workers. I decided not to give anyone an explanation, but just offer them.

There were many looks of confusion about why I was passing out bananas and why I was offering it to them. Most of them took a banana and thanked me.

The lack of explanation caused a level of suspicion but I think there was an acceptance of the gift on the quality of my character. They may have realized that I wouldn't intentionally hurt them. But you could see them attempting to understand what had just gone on.

Very few asked me why I was giving them out, but I think that all enjoyed the banana.

One of my co-workers blogged about being on the other side of the random act. I thought it would be fun to link that blog to this.

What to do when a co-worker offers you a banana.