pinakidion.*

Suppose your church leader received this email and asked you what you would suggest. Any takers?

Dear Delegates:

I pray this email finds all of you well and close to God!

I am sending this out in preparation for our International Leadership Conference.

Please take a moment to send this out to the people that you are representing and ask them to fill it out, too.

What are 4 areas of spirituality, leadership or church building that you feel needs to be addressed or taught at the ILC.

Who do you feel like could preach/teach effectively on these topics.

1. Need and Who:

2. Need and Who:

3. Need and Who:

4. Need and Who:

5. What is on your heart personally or what has God revealed to you recently, as you have been serving God’s Kingdom.
(in other words - if you were to offer a lesson to the Kingdom - what would be the topic.)

Now, I can tell you who I think will fill these slots for my former denomination, but just for fun, what you would say?

You’re The Mists of Avalon!
by Marion Zimmer Bradley
You’re obsessed with Camelot in all its forms, from Arthurian legend
to the Kennedy administration. Your favorite movie from childhood was "The Sword in
the Stone". But more than tales of wizardry and Cuban missiles, you’ve focused on
women. You know that they truly hold all the power. You always wished you could meet
Jackie Kennedy.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

I am here, just not writing on this site. I’m still listening to the Who’s My Brother series from Chicago. One person in attendance there has said that it should not be what I expected. I must confess that I listened to Tony Singh’s presentation first, which was a pretty bad idea because of the lack of context.

I can say, however, that regardless of context, the body of scripture used has been largely used to justify any separation over ANY issue. That doesn’t make the point less reasonable, just not well-proven.

I am interesting in what a conscience family is. This is a coined term either or Steve or F. LaGard Smith. I hope it is better defined than missional, a word that has come to mean just about anything.

I am otherwise doing well and the family is working through the last round of disease going through the family. I am working with a print on demand playing card company on something for sycarion. I’m trying to play some statis-Pro Football. Otherwise, I look forward to warmer weather.

My wife is Vice-President of the Hands and Voices chapter in Nebraska. Actually, she is co-veep. We felt that we needed two to promote work in each half of the state. My wife is the veep for the eastern half. She is also soon to be published on the Boys Town website. I am very proud of her.

More later. Really. More later.

I strike an odd figure in many places. Sometimes it is my size, other times it is an unintentional act of completely disregarding my surroundings. Earlier today, for example, I’m sitting in the parking lot of a discount grocery store with the window down in our car. Not that strange, I know. It’s not like I can shop at Nieman-Marcus. The notable thing is that two cars somewhere on the lot are pumping out 50 cent (I recognized the tune) and Shawty Lo, respectively. Me? I’m pumping out opera while munching on a couple of cheap deli burritos. I’m sure that my two-day old beard adds to an air of urban sophistication amongst so many of my NPR listening brethren.

I’m an old school kind of guy, I still have NWA on my portable hard drive. The opera is real old school, of course, but not everyone kicks to DJ Vivaldi.

On to the next episode

While I was home on vacation, I came upon the other black sheep in my family. Those that know my family may marvel that there are only two black sheep in the family. I would consider the entire clan to be on the fringe of genteel society as it is. One uncle is the man’s man with two Harleys, two prison-style tattooed sleeves, a room with the fur of more dead animals than Hemingway, etc. You know what I mean.

His idea of gun control is using a 22 caliber pistol.

Anyway, he sees my daughter and just melts. He makes faces, sings songs, and in general acts like the jolly ol’ Saint Nick of yore. She reaches out to him and they have a grand time as he dances with her in my mother’s front yard. You see, he’s always loved kids. His license plate on the HUM-V (not a Hummer, a HUM-V) he drives is a tribute to his daughters.

My other uncle has raised his nine children in what I choose to call an “aggressive” manner. All his sons are aggressive and play physical jokes on each other. If you’ve ever seen Bam Margera and all the things he does to his step-father, imagine five Bams and a father that fights back. The standing rule is that if you break, you pay to fix it.

Having said that, I enjoy being with them because there is zero pretension. Everyone is who they say they are. No fronts, no lies, no dishonesty. We sat down to dinner and everyone just started talking about which teacher is afraid of which child, how many kids they are have, why did I move to Nebraska, etc. Spiral Ham, box Mac-n-Cheese, and collard greens. It was a great time.

I really went to see my grandfather who is 91. My grandmother passed away two years ago - she had a few medical problems, but basically died after years of just giving up. I think it was about 15 years ago, she decided that she could not walk and did not from that day forward. My grandfather did all he could to take care of her.

After she passed, he wasn’t able to live alone in the house he shared with her for what must have been 50 years. He sold it the day before I saw him. It’s a house I lived in for a time while I went to Kindegarden and a couple summers. I wished I could have seen it one last time.

My grandfather now lives with my uncle, his middle son. All my relatives told me that he wasn’t long for this world. I was eager to see him. I couldn’t come back for my grandmother’s funeral, though I was supposed to be a pall bearer. Of all the children and grandchildren, Pop always said he favored me the most and that means a lot to me.

He told me that he couldn’t hear anything because the batteries in his hearing aids all died. Truth is, he just doesn’t want to wear them. I told him he could wear my son’s if that helped. I couldn’t take Brother Bear with me that night as he was already asleep, but something about a two year old wearing a hearing aid sparked something within him, I guess.

I showed him some pictures of the kids. He didn’t say anything. Every once in a while, he would glance up at the big screen tv blaring behind us. Most of the family wrestled in and out of the room while we were talking, so it wasn’t that much of a distraction. Pop worked in the Naval Shipyards for decades out of Norfolk, VA. He worked on a lot of navy boats still in service today. He could say a lot about so much history.

But he chose to say little except that he was glad to see me.

Everyone was home for Easter dinner, and Pop would be the head of the table as always. The Easter tradition is that those sitting closest to the foot of the table had the luckier seat. I was in the luckiest seat, something everyone reminded me of twice. As we ate, Pop watched silently as everyone ate. Once in a while, one of my cousins would lean over and tell him a joke and he’d draw his face into the world’s largest smile and open his mouth to laugh. Yet, he was silent. Still, he had a face that invited laughter and we’d all join in. During those times, his Lasik-corrected eyes would twinkle just a little. It was like the grandfather of my childhood was back. I felt lucky to see him laugh, he had laughed so little the past five years as my grandmother deteriorated and eventually passed away.

After dinner, I had to leave in order to pack for home tomorrow morning. I tarried a bit longer to tell him that I had to leave.

His face grew long and his eyes welled up with tears. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Goodbye”. We both knew what he meant. I hugged him once more and left.

With all the oddballs in my family, and I am certainly the oddest, my Pop is unique amongst them all. He loves to laugh, he loves to share what he has, he loves children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great grandchildren. His words have always been few and carefully chosen. That has given him a certain presence that all the rest of us lack. He was always the stable, dependable one in a chaotic sea of family that splashed and sloshed across the US.

I miss him already.

Per custom, the theme is changed for April 1st.

Um. Yeah.