19 Years Ago...

Today marks 19 years since Dad went home. From this day forth, each day I live will be more than the days I had with him. This milestone bears some reflections.

I had some reflections a few years ago, and they all still ring true. What do those 19 years mean? It means my Dad did not see the fruit of his labor on this side of Heaven. I know he would have preferred us to serve as officers but Brother and I both served as enlisted soldiers in the Army. He did not get to be the proud father to see his sons return from war. The kind of pride a Father has not for the merits of the mission but for the sense of service and duty it proved. The faithfulness to our family ethos carried on from his generation to mine.

He did not get to see his son serve in his church in his own right. I grew up as an usher about as young as I could. It certainly felt a bit off being one of the few students in a suit from the earlier service, but I got to be one of the ushers. The time spent in the count room after offering was invaluable for this young impressionable pre-teen to listen to righteous men chatting about life, faith, and their adventures. Most of whom were older than Dad. It is invaluable to surround our young men with the presence of older men who have endured the challenges of life and remained faithful to their families and faith. I got to serve in our church’s youth ministry for the better part of a decade. I got to pour into students as the men who poured into me.

He did not get to see his son graduate from college. There was a nagging uncertainty. My accomplishments in high school granted me guaranteed admission to a SoCal UC. I never applied to go anywhere. Between my Dad’s health and the state of the home, it was not time for me to leave yet. There certainly were ups and downs, as I would expect every household to have as a boy is trying to figure out what it means to be a man while living at home… like many from my high school and station in life, I went to the local community college. Why? Because that is what one is supposed to do after high school, right? That aimless direction contributed to my notably declined success during my high school days. Knowing how my Dad was always so surprised by my academic achievements from my public school days, those grades would not have been significant to him. It would have only mattered that I was achieving more than he did. Little would either of us have known it would take me more than a decade to finish my Bachelor’s degree. I brushed off my graduation, almost forgetting to attend commencement. Graduating from college separated me from many of my generation. Between our childhood socioeconomic status, the single-parent upbringing, and military service, I was already on a road traveled by few. Who would have thought that road would continue to be “less traveled” as I move from my upbringing to this career in academia? He will not get to see me hooded as I graduate with my Ph.D. this Winter. He will not see the family I will one day have, the generations of students I will get to teach. If my current course evaluations are any indicator, I think I’m on the right track.

He will not get to see the man I have grown to be. For all the bumps and bruises this thing called adulthood has been, Dad left off when the journey barely began. He set out to make us men. It has not been a metric of romantic conquests, the amplitude of gaseous expressions, or the number of houses/cars I have accumulated. No, it has been faithfulness to the upbringing that he committed to that we love God and serve others.

What Is In a Name? The Lake Family

I recently got a message from someone who, the last time I talked to, I had to give the gravest of news. It was a call less than a minute long. I think it was a week or two from when it happened, “Can I talk to Jim?” “I’m sorry, he has passed away. Who is this?” My heart sunk when I heard the name. Dad had been caring for this kid off-and-on for at least a year or two. He was a troubled junior higher when my dad started to come alongside and help his family both through his capacity as a deacon at church, but with this family, this kid, Dad went further than others who helped. They didn’t live close or on the way to church. That didn’t matter. There were problems at home that didn’t matter. There were problems at school, didn’t matter. He knew that going in. Dad devoted himself to helping this family.

This wasn’t particularly new to our family. Over the years, my earliest memories were filled with us moving single moms to new apartments or doing work projects for disabled people seeking help from our church. We had a generous benevolence fund, but the church’s financial support was often coupled with some Lake sweat. It was not uncommon to hear my dad on the phone with this utility or that insurance company working on behalf of someone seeking help at our church. Our family was at the vanguard of the Church’s hands and feet.

I got a message today. I wasn’t expecting it. I have not heard from him since that hard call almost 15 years ago. Shared with permission, of course.

My first thought was the recall of a staff meeting at a youth camp in Slovakia. In the meeting, we were reminded that the fruit of our labor in youth ministry is often never seen, often not manifested for years afterward. I don’t know when you were able to right the path in your life, but I am privileged to have been a part of it, even as an observer. My second thought was the privilege it was to come from a family who has taught such a creed. My family is one of Christians. It is an important part of who we are and what that means. There are many movies and books where a fatherless child must find his way and figure out who he is and who he will become. Dad told us when we were 12; his job was to prepare us to be men. I didn’t know that job would come to a halt days before my 19th birthday, but there was never a question of what it meant to be a Lake man. That was modeled a day in and day out for years. It was not perfect, as none of us are or were perfect, but it was always clear who we were.

I am grateful for those countless hours we spent working in the backyard and around the house. We were taught everything from falling a tree and installing a sidewalk to the proper way to make a grilled cheese sandwich. I am grateful for the work ethic instilled in us at such an early age. We didn’t have money, nice clothes, or grand vacations. We had a family. Thank you for this reminder.

Getting Back Up, Again

This week was one of the best there has been had in recent years. I didn’t embark on any new adventures. I didn’t complete anything that was nagging at me. All in all it was a rather normal week. The changes; listening to scripture on my morning commute and going back to the gym. I used to listen to a talk radio show on the commute but personnel changes following the election appears to have removed the most mentally stimulating hosts. After venturing around itunes looking for a replacement podcast to fill that time slot I was reminded of my priorities, the contrast between what my perception and practice. This is better to explain if I start from the physical approach.

I have been a gym rat for the better part of 20 years now. Minus a few extended periods of healing I have paid as the “experience tax”, my routine has been one of the more stable things in my adulthood. I have my goals, some of which were established in high school that continue to elude. The most eminent motivations though are the harsh memories of being bullied up until fruit from the gym showed on my frame in high school and the constant ailments that eventually lead to dad’s early passing. I know dad’s homegoing was far more than his physical state, but that… that is something I’ll hold closer to the chest. As far as the bullying, an anecdotal observation, bullies are less likely to pick targets who are more muscular than them. I recognize the concern of bullies today is long past relevant, but the confidence one gains and maintains by being a good steward of the body continues.

In 20 years of lifting weights there have been minor injuries all along the way. A strained pectoral here, or a pinched nerve there, I have been more than familiar with long undesired but necessary breaks. These have happened with enough consistency that one or two months of inactivity do not negatively impact performance. After three months, the first week back at the gym will be frustrating, demoralizing, and aggravating. At more than three months, well, it will take at least a month of light workouts to get back to the previous level. This is known as muscle memory, which is a wonderful thing. It could be such that instead of regaining strength within a few months of leaving off, I would have to work back from scratch. This knowledge is both a blessing and a curse. The blessing because I know how temporary this setback will be, the curse because it is still frustrating and humbling to endure every single time I return to the gym to build back up to where I was. There is a certain baseline to reach before I can tune my routine back towards accomplishing my goals.

Last week, I finally got better from a four-months “cold”. The doctor called it “bronchitis” and the antibiotics were incredible, but let us not dwell on the past and technical terms. The best part of the healing process was recognizing I was sick for at least two months more than I needed to be. It was my stubbornness that precluded me from seeking help. Oh the joys of recognizing the fallibility in my physicality as well as my spiritual practice.

At the same time, sadly with far less dedication to my lifting regimen, getting a daily dose of scripture has ebbed and flowed. When it flowed it was grand. I never really maintained awareness how or why I let life’s business get in the way. Certainly there were periods of pride that in order to ensure my practice was authentic manifestations of delight over duty, I would cast away such liturgical structures over my daily routine so as to appear the most authentic. The other prideful exclamation often justified my lack of scripture because maintaining a biblical worldview might be sufficient. You know, think about everything biblically, except the Bible.

I knew I didn’t have a good reason. Is that not the purpose of the Bible app after all? The phone goes everywhere, hence my bible is with me all the time. Even more, the audio bible is on the app too! It really hit me halfway through this week. To really show my faith, I started to listen to the Old Testament. You know, brush up on my biblical history that is a bit rusty. I should be able to distinguish between Elijah and Elisha... What God has shown me in this week, was in the historic descriptive Word, it is still living and active. My place in his kingdom is more clear. The concerns of what each day has before me are less daunting. God is good. This process is far less painful than working back up to a certain level of physical performance. As it should be, the entire basis of the Christian faith isn’t about what we do for God, but what he has already done for us. One of the most basic truths, that I had not paid attention to with the weight I should have. Like getting back into my gym routine, “why did I ever stop?” with the most dumbfounded tone echoes through my head. I am grateful for a loving God who knows me better than I could ever know myself.

Oh, I guess this kind of topped off this week, I got to see Supreme Court Associate Justice Alito this weekend. That was pretty cool too. God cares about the little things too.

P.S. I wrote this a few weeks ago, but not wanting to get on what could have turned into a short lived celebration of a couple weeks, the pattern has held. The gym regime continues, the Word still speaks through the genealogies, and life is great. This has not been a fad. Next time you see me, ask me about what scripture takeaway I had.

Be a Good Soldier: A Valentine’s Day Post

And the crowds asked him, “What then shall we do?” And he answered them, “Whoever has two tunics[b] is to share with him who has none, and whoever has food is to do likewise.” Tax collectors also came to be baptized and said to him, “Teacher, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Collect no more than you are authorized to do.”Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.” - Luke 3:10-14 (ESV)

For those of us who have served, this passage has fair literal value as it does general value. On this day of days what comes to mind is the broader message Jesus had to his followers. Do your job and do it well. In the recent weeks I have had several conversation in-real-life as well as digitally concerning the place singles have in the Church, particularly for the post-college pre-marriage stage, perhaps even moreso for those who are *gasp* not even in a relationship. Some of us look to the structures our local churches provide, or don’t. Some of us question the micro-culture of modern evangelicalism if it has a place for singles. According to Pew, the age of marriage among my generation is the oldest it has been in decades, perhaps in modern history. Even with these attainable benchmarks, I still exceed these with a healthy margin. What is one to do?

Allow me to segue to another reoccurring discussion I recently had. I promise to connect the dots. A disgruntled veteran was lamenting the sense of unfulfilled purpose he had, because though he answered the call to war, he did not engage in combat. For those unfamiliar with the indoctrination phase of military training, a fair amount of dehumanization must take place in order to make us comfortable with the concept of taking human life. This ranges from our enthusiastic chants of making the “green grass grow”, to the more calm and concentrated exercises of practicing marksmanship on human silhouettes. This was in response to an important report by Brigadier General SLA Marshall’s study of WWI and Civil War soldiers which he found no more than 15-20% of soldiers in combat fired their weapons at their enemies in battle. There has been much discussion since then, but the point remains, the indoctrination phase of military training focuses on “socializing” us in a foreign culture. The most basic aspect of that culture is to follow lawful orders. This is often summarized that a junior enlisted has only three tasks to accomplish. “Be in the right place, at the right time, in the right uniform.” All else their superiors will instruct them as needed. I take this universal principle and apply it to those service members who have been left with the sense of longing. One of the best portrayals of this attitude in film was from this scene in Jarhead (NSFW Language). My response to the distraught brother-in-arms comes from King David.

Then David came to the two hundred men who had been too exhausted to follow David, and who had been left at the brook Besor. And they went out to meet David and to meet the people who were with him. And when David came near to the people he greeted them. Then all the wicked and worthless fellows among the men who had gone with David said, “Because they did not go with us, we will not give them any of the spoil that we have recovered, except that each man may lead away his wife and children, and depart.” But David said, “You shall not do so, my brothers, with what the Lord has given us. He has preserved us and given into our hand the band that came against us. Who would listen to you in this matter? For as his share is who goes down into the battle, so shall his share be who stays by the baggage. They shall share alike.” And he made it a statute and a rule for Israel from that day forward to this day. - 1 Samuel 30:21-25 (ESV)

If you are unfamiliar with the story begin with verse 1. Anyways, the example provided by David and echoed in the military’s own ethic, our job is to follow orders. Those orders might provide opportunity for valor, but the chances are they won’t. In fact, the vast majority of military service consists of mundane tasks and orders, such that if one ever gets such an opportunity they are outside the norm, even those at war. Even then, to many men of valor, the conditions that provided that opportunity for valor have been frequently described as their worst day ever. Actually, this view appears to be rather common among our nation’s most honored.

I have lived as a soldier and as a single Christian. Through those years some points of isolation were worse than others. As I stand back with a view of God’s great mercies, grace, and love, I am reminded of the simple task we have been asked to do. To pick up our cross and follow him. The simplicity of what it means to b a Christian doesn’t fade, but the depth of those simple instructions only grows with our obedience. In that light, enjoy these Valentine’s Day cards.

Providence Verified Pt. VI - A New Community

It was decided then. After two weeks at Biola, the additional unexpected costs would be worth it. The descending digits in my bank account were worth the experience and education I would recieve here. Once settled, I knew it was imperative to find community in a local church. Because of my time Jessup I was already familiar with the intentional posture necessary to build community on campus when one does not reside on campus. Even then, community is not an overnight thing, it takes time. I found myself in a new community, new school, with little to know contacts in the area, but I was certain God brought me here for his purpose.

The first semester was a struggle. Unlike Jessup, Biola had a much smaller veteran population and a near non-existent veteran community on campus. That veteran community at Jessup was instrumental to my reintegration into society following Afghanistan. I recall reading one article that expressed the type of sentiments veterans have amidst their younger academic peers. In that particular article, a veteran described how his classmates were homesick after the first month of class, he on the other hand had spent over a year in combat in Iraq prior to being discharged and going to college. The lack of common ground and unparalleled life experiences within only a few years often feels like an ocean apart. I empathized with that veteran but was entirely grateful for having a band of brothers to guide me back to civilization. When I left Jessup, I also left them. There were an equal number of veterans at Jessup as Biola, but Biola’s undergraduate population was over 7x that of Jessup. The community I enjoyed did not and could not exist at Biola.

There were some clear practical reasons why so few veterans attend Biola. Between the Code of Conduct and the out of pocket expense in addition to Post 9/11 GI Bill, only the most motivated individual would consider Biola over other Christian schools like Azusa Pacific or California Baptist which did not have as strict code and came with no out of pocket expense. At the same time, as much as I love Biola, whenever I encounter potential students I make certain that they consider the costs. In many ways the consideration one makes to select a college should be similar to the considerations before one joins the military. Both experiences provide wide ranges of opportunity but can also carry considerable consequences.

I found a new church home in for a lack of cliche’ reasons at this point, providential manner. When I moved down south, I knew I had to find a local church to be a part of. I attended a large church with one of my housemates and it had all the flash and dazzle of a megachurch, I just sensed among the sea of congregants a long path to building relationships. The second week, I went to this church I heard about from Hume, which was where my theology professor taught. I knew from the moment I walked in that I was supposed to be there. The opening worship song was To God Be The Glory, a song I probably had not heard nor sung in over a decade. This was the song Dad, brother, and I sang every morning as he drove us to school. I was at home.

In the most immediate fashions, God brought me to Southern California, confirmed the school I was to attend, and even got me into the classes that I would enjoy. By then I thought God’s clear guiding hand on me was for the most part finished for a good bit of time. I was checking the formal education box in order to meet the qualifications to be a High School Social Science teacher. Little did I know where I would find myself after graduation to the present stage which I work.

Adventures in Security: 0 Days Without an Incident

My streak is over. I have been working security at a nearby ritzy venue for almost a year. Over the course of that time, I have somewhat proudly noted that every real fight or altercation we have encountered I have been absent. I would insinuate my particular demeanor was more comforting and successful to de-escalate situations instead of allowing disagreements to turn to fights. It is worth mentioning the pedigree of the venue is far from the typical dive bar. We are not some ragtag tight polo shirt wearing element. We are in suits minus the tie, if you can peg a man by his dress then we are certainly a professional team. A rough approximation would say there are only events which require our intervention once a month. A typical night is filled with checking IDs, assisting bussers with broken glasses, and clearing the venue at closing time. As with most security, our primary purpose is fulfilled in our mere presence. I should probably note that of the three nights a week which our security team is present, I usually only work one of those.

Although I have an older brother, throughout our childhood we never really fought. Dad ensured no such hijinks would be permitted and it worked. We were never taught to back down from any hostile acts but nor were we taught to go looking for trouble. Because my investigation in Complementarian theology followed my service in the Army, I am not inclined to think the “protective desire” was something from my theological convictions. I do not know. We can chalk it up as a social construct which much of my generation has embraced.

Anyways, Saturday night was a learning experience. Not only did I get to assist with an escort following an altercation, as that one was settling I was the lead guard who broke up another fight. Adrenaline flowing in all, the true question of fight or flight was answered in the heat of the moment. It should be noted, that we do not fight patrons… well, I do not fight patrons. When two people are not playing nice with each other, the best resolution is to separate them. It is not worth the time or effort to figure out who was in the right or wrong until the altercation is ceased. We ascertain the details and responsibilities of the event following a successful ceasing of the fight itself. My job is to get between two people fighting and separate them. Not only was that night a first, which I finally got to be the first person on scene, it was the first time I was really punched in the face. I am quite certain had it not been for a broken nose my junior year of highschool, I would certainly have bled after that strike, thanks for that Dave :D.

Once the sting of the facial numbness streaked across my face and the fight was stopped I almost instantly thought about a quote from Muhammad Ali a friend has often quoted to me. “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.” Of course, my friend has always used that phrase more for its metaphorical purpose, but this weekend it was rather literal. Until one is presented with an actual situation where tempers are flaring, danger and fear were present, we can only hope to do the right thing given sufficient mental preparation and/or physical training. Due to my lack of direct experience, I have not had much opportunity to hone my hand-to-hand combat skills. I can generally use my size and strength enough to mitigate my lack of technique, but even then, until this weekend all such mental simulations remained only in theory.

Now I know. I can take a real hit to the face. Aside from the crash against my skull, and slight numbness, I did not falter. I continued pulling the patrons off of one another and once the two were separated the altercation was finished. In the aftermath I was reminded of the temperament of my colleagues. The would undoubtedly disagree with my findings in Babysitting and Bouncing.

I was also able to take a few minutes to reflect upon the numerous types of security I have been involved. From time as a soldier, to a summer camp security guard, to a bouncer. Each capacity has honed the desire to protect into an ability to do so. I am also reminded of the repeated instruction in Army Combatives training. Our instructors repeatedly stated “We are only teaching you just enough to get your ___ beat.” It was a rather simple block of instruction but they were certain that we did not act too empowered by our basic combative skills test. If I recall right, on one of my sparring opportunities I dived head-first into a guillotine choke hold. Oh the joys of youth and vigor.

I returned from Hume on Friday, after a two-week visit. I truly love Hume and the people up there. This summer is far different from how I imagined it even two months before. It has required a type of waiting that has not been required since my exit from the Army. I had no idea what I would be doing this summer as it began and as the weeks passed hopes were dashed and opportunities unveiled. These revelations remind and reassure me that I am supposed to be exactly where I am. God has been guiding these steps far longer than I have been aware enough to recognize their destination. My adventures for this summer are far from over. Although the desired accomplishments are somewhat lacking, the thankfulness for being about to return to Hume, more than statisfy.

Look Forward for the Rainbows

The perspiring bubbles on my forehead are about gone. There remains a pleasant level of lactic acid still in my shoulders. At the beginning of this semester I started jogging again. With the encouragement and company of a friend from church, who is in far better shape than I, we have been able to share the camaraderie of hardship, sweat, and good conversations. Did I mention how much like to run? Some people have difficulty eating beets, I have difficulty doing cardiovascular exercise. I will devour any foul tasting health food but voluntarily get me on a regimen of cardio, that is a struggle. Yet, somehow knowing I have a friend to endure the pain with, makes it easier. There have even been enough progress that I go without him. What is it about shared hardship that bonds people together? In the range of types of hardships both theoretical and experiential the net is wide. Whether the rigor is from a sports team, stress from challenging classes, or dare I say even war, there appears to be a consistent bond people build with such joint experiences. I might go further to say the more intense the hardship the stronger the bond. I built great friendships with my friends and colleagues on each of my deployments, but there was no measure that would compare the bond of our staff positions versus forward positions who endured more tangible forms of stress. Even as I look back to my summers at Hume, the bonds formed are quick and deep. A similar feature of as those bonds are quickly formed while working at Hume are among the most demanding experiences I have had within the civilian realm.

Even as I reflect upon this first year of graduate school, there is a good deal of camaraderie from the shared struggle to accomplish our tasks. I have never had to read and comprehend as much material as I have done in this last year. If one does not belong, it will be evident. This was a constant question I had throughout this year, “What am I doing here? Can I really hack it?” Well, one year down, two more to go. I trust the professors enough to tell me if I don’t and they haven’t yet.

Are the bonds formed through hardship a peek into our natural soul? Our brokenness is what brings us before the Cross. The majority of our faith journey is more about our constant failures and occasional successes that bring us closer to Christ. In many ways, the Christian life is predominantly a one-sided relationship. God is sufficient. Therefore, there is nothing he lacks or desires that will make him more complete. Us on the other hand, are far from sufficient. Even the most independent self-sufficient homesteader still relies upon the constant rhythm of the heart beat to continue to assert independence. The whole of life is grace, some have the opportunity to recognize it more deeply than others.

Are these echoes of hardship and the lessons that come from them their purpose? Marriage serves as an analogous relationship between Christ and the Church. Are our individual relationships analogous to our relationship with God? By default, our relationship with God cannot, nor should not ever be equal. It is the most appropriate relationship between an inferior and superior. At the same time, many friendships begin with a more dominant aspect than the other. Those starting differentials might be talent, means, experience, or whatever. There are few relationships wherein both parties are fully equal. Even if they are, the bond is genuine because there is no tally to be kept. The differential of friendships often shift over the years, often such movements in the relational dynamics are signs the bond was not bound by a time or place. This is certainly one of the lessons about friendships adults tend to learn more than children. I have a number of friends whom I see far less than I would like to. Our paths have lead us in different places, but oh when we can be near one another again, joy. Much joy is to be had.

I also consider these thought with the ever so popular problem of pain. Much of American society has set their goal in life to avoid pain at much as possible, in doing so they avoid the character and discipline that has so often been revealed and formed through such experiences. Hardship does not create one’s character, it only reveals the character that was already present. I do not think this approach to pain is exclusive to Christ followers, but the knowledge of a good God does make such trials infinitely more possible to endure. I know of many faithful Christians with hard stories who repeat a common theme through their hardship. They are grateful for the perseverance and support that carried them through, but continued to nourish the hopes that the hardship may come to an end, if it is to be so.

I am reminded of Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah aka Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. When presented with the fiery furnace they stood before the test, no knowing how it would end. The most probable and reasonable end rates among the worst ways to die, despite this “If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.” I can only wonder, if the trio were not close before, this trial was a recurring example of God’s faithfulness.

Are the challenges we have each day proportional rainbows of God’s faithfulness? Rainbows can be made from something as simple as a spray bottle or be the result of a glorious storm. The vibrancy and brilliance often depends upon the source. The best rainbows come from the passing of powerful storms. So too our lessons in faithfulness. We are given talents each day to invest or bury. We know what the right answer is, but will we be willing to follow through? What if I could look forward to the next challenge God would carry me through instead of dread the temporary pain?

Something Beautiful

I am a people watcher. I first started to realize this in highschool. I recognized my lack of desire to date based on my observations of my peers. In the Army, I actively sought to be the designated driver whenever possible so that I could try to belong. There was also an opportunity to observe people in their “natural habitat” if you will. It sounds better if you read that part with a Steve Irwin accent. This might also explain why I went into the branch of the Army. It was my job to study people, to predict their actions and reactions. I have long recognized I see things differently from the majority of those around me, it is through watching people that I might gain a better understanding. This could even be said why I was intrigued to be a bouncer. There might also be a desire to protect, the applications of watching people: lifeguard, soldier, and security. There appears to be a consistent theme.

Being watchful of one’s surroundings is also part of the impetus to blog. In order to try to have something that might be worth reading, one must be attentive to the world looking for opportunities to share. Such constant watching is a different kind, instead of maintaining situational awareness for a potential threat, I must also be aware of the beauty God might present in a given day. This ranges from sunsets, clear skies, or those precious moments with a child or something fluffy.

This brings me to something I saw at church a few weeks ago that was absolutely precious. While ushering, I am constantly facing the opposite direction from the congregation. There was a new father holding his newborn daughter. He was absolutely transfixed on her in a way I cannot remember that I have seen. We acknowledged each other and I returned a smile and he quickly went back to staring at his daughter. The intention, joy, emotions everywhere were overflowing. It was a joy to get to witness something so beautiful.

There was no need for him to justify anything. I am certain he was more focused on her than he was of what was happening on stage during those moments. From the fully extended smile to the piercing gaze, there was nothing more important in that room to him. Granted other than myself and those standing around him, I don’t think anyone else witnessed this public display. Was I intruding on the moment? I hope not.

Aside from sharing that moment that left me impressed, being reminded to lookout for the beautiful things, I was also reminded of the need to celebrate joy with others, especially the joys they have that I might not have. This goes back to a discussion with one of the couples in my grace group. They were hanging out early and we were having a good discussion. I can’t remember if they were newlyweds, by definition, but she was still in that mode. He wanted to refrain in my presence. He was single well into his 30’s and did not want to flaunt the affection he was finally able to share with his wife. I appreciated the consideration but encouraged them to enjoy the fruits of their relationship. Christians should celebrate with others the gifts God has  given. I think this is especially true for those of us without, to celebrate those who have.

Sure, I have my moments, but hopefully those moments should occupy less mental energy and time than a Carl’s Jr. commercial. I am starting to stare down 32 in the coming months. I am well past the average age of marriage for any American demographic, yet, there is still peace. God has demonstrated his plan throughout my life numerous ways for years. Just in case my faith was weak, I have a long personal history to reflect upon.

The Christian faith is not built upon an external sense of injustice or inequality. The only inequality that should matter to us is how could a Good God send his perfect Son to die for us? There is no greater challenge to inequality beyond that and all other forms of inequality pale in comparison to Christ’s sacrifice. Christians do not live in some kind of envious economic plan that requires all to be equal in order for there to be goodness. We are bathed in grace, undeserved favor from God, each day. Every breath, delectable bite, stunning sunset, and joy is the result of God’s grace. I just needed to remind myself.

Hard Lessons Simple Truths pt II

In Part I, I started tell you about the experiential understanding of some of God’s simple truths. I did not realize this would be a series until the pages were filled in part I. This series seeks to focus on highlighting the opportunities God has given me, through hard lessons, to recognize his simple truths.

I think at the time, the simple truths were a bit less concise or complete. For a number of years I summarized the simple truths as “patience” and/or “sovereignty”. Two summers ago, eminent scholar, Screamer veteran, and strong puncher, Jerry Root summarized the simple truths to “He is God, He loves me, He knows what is best for me.” This was certainly a more relational summary than my one word doctrinal statements. Years later after an Introduction to Theology class at Biola, what has been known cannot be unknown. The character of God and his attributes from a scholarly approach may appear daunting, at the same time Romans has made much of it plain to us.

The first installment left off with the personal frustrations I had as I returned back to civilian life. Well, sort of. The Providence Verified series follows a chronological record of God’s clear hand guiding my path in the recent years. This series overlaps chronologically but tells the stories and trials I experienced while being precisely where God had me be. I had to shelve this one for a few weeks while I got caught up in the other series for chronological continuity. Let’s get on with this.

In a 6-week period, I put in my two weeks, got hired by a new division in my company, moved to Texas, and started a deployment in Afghanistan. Of the two challenges which confronted me during that time and throughout the deployment one has at best a tentative answer still. When I was active duty and Uncle Sam called my number to go to war, I could easily write it off as “this is out of my hands” or “I am being sent”, although I kind of did volunteer to go to a unit to deliberately go to Iraq. In this situation, I left a great job, which although the conditions were much less enjoyable than when I first started working, it was still the best job and opportunity available without leaving my community. As a contractor, I had to seek a job knowing I would go to another war. No flag to hide behind, no government orders making me go, I had to seek out a job, go through the interview process, and convince my company why they should send me to war. Yes, the job was in direct support and supervision of active duty personnel, but the conditions were still different.

I sold more than a year of my life. For those of you who do not know, private military contracting is very lucrative for anyone. At that time, truck drivers without military experience driving convoys of supplies in Iraq and Afghanistan were making over 100K/yr. The pay scales moved up from there. I knew several contractors who were veterans in Iraq and got an idea of the pay scale for even entry level analyst jobs. In fairness, entry-level in that career field meant at least 2 years active military experience with a deployment already under one’s belt. Anyways, there are many jobs which people do solely for the money. Isn’t that why most of us go to work? So that we can get paid? Some of us will be lucky enough to do something we love and get paid, but there are significant portions of the population punching the card to get to the next day. I knew in taking the new job position I was deliberately selling myself. The notion still feels odd. I never wanted to live a life in which chasing the paycheck was the objective, but I still took the job. I justified and still tend to justify that decision by those digits in my bank account that grew from that job. Yes, I got to do my part making the Afghani people and Coalition Forces safer. There was always that aspect of job satisfaction but I couldn’t shake it that I named my price and took it. There was nothing morally wrong about my job, it did not put me in any positions which I had to do anything against my conscience or faith, but it still felt odd. I still justify it because of the financial positioning the job provided… It is done. I do not like to justify the means by the ends, but this chapter is how it went.

The nagging sense of selling myself was not a problem during the deployment. I was awestruck with each paycheck. In retrospect it was a convicting manner to see what I valued at the time. I left my church community, a good job, and great friends for those digits in an account. The part about the deployment which made it my most difficult year was the fellowship. Between my status as a contractor and working night shift, I could not attend any chapels on base. When I was active duty my section allowed for me to attend a weekly Bible Study with some guys from my unit. It did not take long before I realized how much I underestimated God’s blessing on me in Iraq then when I was in Afghanistan. The support a community of faith can provide became measureable to me. I bonded well with my coworkers. We had a small team, only a handful of us stayed for more than a year, the active duty people rotated with a new crew and command several times. Some crews were more friendly than others, some were outright hostile towards faith. We I took the job, I figured I would continue reading to keep my faith vibrant as I did in Iraq. The near complete lack of fellowship in Afghanistan took its toll. It didn’t matter I was reading regularly, working out, eating mostly clean, the lack of fellowship and encouragement the Body of Christ ought to provide to one another was painful.

People often focus on the physical danger war presents. In Iraq we went several months between rocket attacks, I don’t think we had more than 8 days without a rocket hitting our base in Afghanistan. I chuckle, as my last week on the deployment, I am certain I saw a rocket pass over my head by 20 ft or so, it was a good signal that I was ready to leave. The physical danger was nothing compared to spiritual emptiness I felt throughout the deployment. I gained a clearer understanding of the priority between the physical and immaterial.

When I got home from Afghanistan things were different. I dare not say the evil acronym many associate with military service. I am certain it was not that. I think a spiritual thirstiness was present. I got back from Afghanistan December of 2011. By the following January I was taking classes at William Jessup to finish my degree. As much as I love Biola, I know I needed to be at Jessup that first year back in civilian life. There was a proportionally significant veteran population on campus and for some things it takes a veteran to help a veteran. The thirstiness practically felt like an immaterial mist separating myself from others around me. It flirted with the line of tangibility, but it was constantly present in public. It was not until I returned to Hume Lake the summer of 2012, that I felt the cloud lifted and have not turned back since. Hume was already a dear place to me, this was just another example why it is so important to me.

Throughout the Afghanistan deployment I knew God was demonstrating his sovereignty to me. He carried me through yet another war. Even in periods of silence, his presence was constant. Like my isolation in Germany that first year, sometimes it takes the most challenging of conditions for us to have the opportunity to see God for who he is. The noise of the world fades to the background and one is confronted with the brutal truth of a fallen world and a sin nature. Despite this, God is present, he loves me and he was able to take care of me. Even more than that, I have seen and felt God’s faithfulness through numerous trials. Like a dependable friend that has been there through thick and thin, no wait, that is insufficient. God has carried me through the hard times, especially through those moments when I was barely holding on.

How to Survive and Thrive at Summer Camp

I write this with 6 summers spent working at Hume Lake Christian Camps, I do not think any of these tips are particularly specific to Hume, if not except that I am writing from a perspective of a large camp staff. These are my suggestions on how to have the best camp experience for all you Summer Camp Staff this summer. In my span of employment at Hume I have worked in the Dish Room, Support Services, Ponderosa Lifeguard, and Security. My first summer I was 19, the last I was 31. Part of writing this is my longing to return this next summer but having to recognize this season has passed… for now.

1. Do not start a relationship! I get it, oh boy do I get it. This is especially difficult for those of us coming from churches with less than flourishing college ministries or going to secular colleges without robust campus ministry, for those single and ready to mingle to, mingle. Further heightening the attractiveness of the idea, everyone else on staff is doing ministry all around. You are both serving God, maybe even in the same department, so you see each other more than anyone else on a regular basis. I get it. I also say this knowing a good number of friends who have met their spouses at Hume. They are the exception not the rule, and I write this as a point of general rules. By exception I can also say from experience of working with over 1000 summer staffers across my time, exception means the 1:100 chances, maybe. I say this because I have seen time and again, people meet, especially in the first few weeks of camp, and that other (not yet significant other) often becomes the primary focus of time, emotional energy, and general attention. Sometimes it even seems justified because the workday is spent serving God in your respective position. A really good thing to practice instead, building friendships with people. Between the severance from technology, the close proximity, the physical, emotional, and spiritual strain this is a magnificent opportunity to make life long friends. Much in the same way you might have gotten to know friends in the dorms on the same hall, but this is amplified by the shared experience of working in ministry together. Also keep in mind, what will likely happen when summer is over. Do you go to school or living within reasonable proximity to one another? Is the person (sadly) one way around Christians than they are around the World? The bubble that the Camp Experience offers is both a blessing and a curse. Be aware of it. At most make friendships from which a relationship might result, but wait for the camp goggles to wear off.
2. Take advantage of Spiritual Growth opportunities. Okay, this might be Hume specific as I cannot speak for all the opportunities at other camps. Between Bible studies with full time staff, Summer Preaching Series, Chapels, or even your own quiet time, be sure to spend time to maintain your own spiritual health. The formal teaching opportunities have fantastic speakers from all kinds of backgrounds, at least one of them will speak on a topic you will have interest. Many of you have not worked a job with such demands like this before. No matter how busy you get, and even though that business is doing ministry, you still need to take time to be fed. This is a similar effect I see at Christian campuses. I attended two different Christian universities, both had the same problem. Between required chapels and Bible classes, many students fall into a trap of thinking they are spending sufficient “God time” fulfilling those obligations. In doing so, they neglect to take part in a local church in which they might be exposed to a diverse population of Christians other than 18-22 year olds.
3. Get creative with the meals. For at least 5 of my summers the menu has been more or less the same. Embrace the sandwich bar at lunch. Get creative with the salads. Examples, chicken sandwich day makes for a nice crunchy chicken salad. Occasionally there is a staff menu item separate from the regular menu, get it, no matter what it is. Salad is your friend, Cisco takes its toll. Don’t limit yourself to the iceberg lettuce either, I’m not about to have a nutrition meeting right here, but use the spinach. Your digestive tract will thank you.
4. You can survive without technology. This some has a caveats, unless you have a specific job that includes many hours of low activity or you are taking a summer online class (Good Luck), leave the laptop at home. I know we have all at one point in time thought the idea of a technology fast would be good for us. This is a grand opportunity to realize what life was like before everyone had a smartphone, mostly. There is no cell reception and internet is not worth waiting for, instead you are in the middle of the forest surrounded by trails, trees, and some of the best creation God has made. Enjoy it. This will also give you a good chance to do #2 since you won’t be distracted with all the social media our generation is so well known for.
5. Watch the sunrise and sunset at least one time during the summer. At the beginning of the summer it is really cold (40 and below), but sunrise happens later. I want to say it starts around 5:30 if you want start when it is still dark. By mid-July, the temperature is much more bearable but sunrise starts earlier. For more approximate times check with the Night Shift security guys, they will know.

6. Limit time spent “Down the Hill”. My first summer I never went to the city, I was having a blast kayaking, reading, and just being in the presence of creation. Not to say Fresno is not also part of God’s creation, but it is not as enjoyable as Hume. My second summer I went down almost every weekend. It is nice to go hang out with friends, catch a movie, escape from the camp menu, In-n-Out/Chipotle/etc. I am not recommending about never going down the hill, but be mindful. It is a 3-hour round trip and at least half a tank of gas. Summer camp pay tends to keep us keenly aware of the service aspect of this ministry, a trip down the hill can get expensive. Also, remember you are in the middle of Sequoia National Forest. There are many sights you can see and explore and you already in the middle of it!
7. Get to know people in other departments. You will more than likely get close to your team. You will spend more than 40 hours per week with them, it is somewhat inevitable. Living arrangements and off time provide great opportunities to get to know people in other departments. This is especially true for departments like Support Services, Food Service, Security, and Concessions. Each of these departments give days off, not on the weekends and usually only a couple of people from the department at a time. If you only hang out with people from your department much of your days off will be spent by yourself (not on purpose) or awkwardly looking for something to do. Last summer I made friends with High Adventure people, almost every week I got to play paintball with campers. Help other department staff by volunteering and getting to know staff in other jobs especially if you want to return for another summer. Camps tend to be small communities, it is not difficult to become part of the family. This is especially true for Full Time staff. They love you before they know your name. Know that and go from there.
8. Sleep. This is not general ed classes at college. The Resident Directors are there to help encourage you to get a reasonable amount of rest. Don’t fight it. It is easy to become perturbed with the authority over you at camp, you are still spreading your wings learning how to adult. One important aspect of adulting properly is giving proper due to authorities above you. Doing what you should do over what you want to do. Be the adult I know you are.
9. Bring a Hammock. Preferably with the longest straps you can find. It will be better sleep than you can ever get on a camp mattress and there are plenty of trees to set up your ideal spot. Hammocks help facilitate rest, great conversations, and being able to see a fantastic view. For some reason I did not own one until my last summer, one of my biggest regrets of Hume.
10. Remember this is Camp. Most people will not have too much trouble remembering this one. Do not treat a blessing like serving such a wide audience for the Gospel’s sake into a burden. Once I got to #8, I figured I should round it out to 10. Mission accomplished.