May 2007

I think I have good eye sight. I’m basing this theory on my ability to read small print. I’m fully aware that it’s not the most scientific study. I will probably one day go see an optometrist and get my suspicions confirmed. However, for now I’m okay with my eyes: I think.

Our pastor was preaching from John 5:1-16. If you’re not familiar with the events of that passage here they are in a nutshell. There was a man sitting by a pool who had been lame for 38 years. One Sabbath Jesus was walking by and took notice of the man. Jesus then asked if the guy wanted to be healed. The lame man gave some excuse for why he was still lame.[1] Jesus healed the man and told him to get up and carry his mat home. The man went on his way but some Pharisees saw him carrying his mat (a big no-no on the Sabbath) and got mad at him. Jesus saw the man later and told him to go and sin no more.

While the obvious was that the Pharisees were being too uptight and failed to recognize the miracle healing. I can’t help but wonder if they didn’t recognize that this guy was once lame. I’m now wondering if the first time they ever really saw the guy was when he was healed. Is it possible that, in the 38 years this man was lame, these Pharisees walked past this man many times and never once saw him? Could that me why they didn’t recognize the healing?

This brings me back to my eyesight. I wonder how often I’m like the Pharisees and walk by hurting people totally oblivious to their needs and hurts. Is it possible that my eye sight is worse than I think? Is it possible that I don’t see the people God sees?

I’m beginning to think that my eyes don’t work like they should.

Jesus instructs us to care for the poor and needy, and even goes so far as to say that you don’t have a relationship with Him if you don’t.[2] My prayer is that my eyes can be trained to see: that my vision can be corrected.

(1) Some would call his excuse lame, but I didn’t want to go there.
(2) Matthew 25:31-46

“Expect the unexpected.�

I’m sure you’re familiar with this expression, but I’m beginning to wonder about the practicalities of it. What is meant by “the unexpected?� How do we do this? Is it even possible?

It seems to me that the realm of “the unexpected� is far too vast to adequately be prepared for.

Yesterday was a day of the unexpected. I woke up to find my in-laws working in my yard. It was a welcomed surprise, but unexpected none the less.

Latter while making dinner I cut myself deeply with a table knife: very unexpected. I mean, now many people manage to injure themselves with table knives?

That evening I was supposed to be leading a community youth service. That was unexpected prior to Wednesday. I arrived at the church at the arranged time of 5:30 to meet the lady who was to let myself and the band in to set up. She never showed up. That was absolutely unexpected.

My talk last night was on faith, and I began to realize sitting in the church parking lot what role faith plays in my life.

By faith I walk around my house in my boxers not expecting anyone to be in my yard. By faith I prepare dinner with dull instruments not expecting to injure myself. By faith I make myself vulnerable to others not expecting them to let me down.

What’s the alternative? I suppose that without faith I’d be a hermit who trusts only me. Or I could curl up in the fetal position and shut down when things don’t go to plan.

Faith offers an alternative.

With faith that God is true to His promises I can search for plan b, c, d, or even z if necessary. With faith I can be confident that He is with me, that He knew this would happen that He has a plan that will prosper.

Plans may change but God does not.

Oh, we went with plan d last night and moved the service to the house of a student near by. It was one of the best nights we ever had. We were cold and being eaten by bugs, but God was there. Also unexpected, we forgot mic stands. So we made one out of a shovel, a broom handle and duct tape. It’s pictured above.

“We naturally talk about what we love� – Rob Bell

I heard him say this in a pod cast interview the other day. (You can find it on itunes.) He went on to share examples of an avid golfer or a grandmother showing off pictures of her grandkids. His point was pretty clear; people really do talk a lot about what they love. And that conversation comes natural.

I don’t know if this is an original quote for Rob or if he’s repeating something he heard elsewhere. I’ve certainly heard this same sentiment repeated many different ways, such as “we naturally spend time with those we love,� and, well, okay I’ve only heard it said the two ways.

This has got me thinking. I’ve been taking stock the past few days of what I love by paying attention to what I talk about. Around the office yesterday it was cameras, and today photo printers. There’s been talk about Music, hockey, the Canucks, my niece, surprisingly a bit less than normal about surfing, and I talk about Sheena a lot. I’m sure it’s very easy for people to know what I love.

However, if others learn the list of what I love from what I talk about, will they know I love Jesus?

I thought I’d look at what Jesus loved based on what He talked about. In the Gospel of John, Jesus refers to God personally about 95 times (if my counting is accurate) calling Him “My Father,� “The Father,� or “The one who sent Me.�

In the course of a lifetime that doesn’t seem like all that many references to God, but John admits that he could not record all the events of Jesus life because they were too numerous. I’m sure that Jesus talked even more about His father than John’s 95 instances.

Jesus talks about God, His father, even far more than I talk about my father. (Sorry dad.) It’s sometimes easy to accept that Jesus and I are different guys with different interests. We both grew up in very different cultures with different DNA. Jesus was apparently all about loving God, and I’m about…hmm, music or hockey, or surfing, or Sheena. (I’m feeling a bit ill suddenly.)

I do love God, but He’s not always someone I talk about. I love Jesus, but I’ve never talked about Him the way a proud grandmother would. Could you imagine meeting a stranger with the same excitement a Grandmother has? “Oh, you’ve just got to see a picture. Here’s my Jesus.�

I can’t help but think that God would rather I talk more about Him with others. Perhaps the problem isn’t with my talking but my loving. Oh, to be filled with such a love for God that talking about Him becomes more and more natural.

May we all become natural God talkers.

My parents leave today for a five week journey through Turkey and Greece. Sheena and I were invited to join them, but said “no thanks.” We decided we’d try the going to work thing instead. As it is, we’ve got jobs for the moment that don’t allow us to take so much time off, and we thought that while we have them we’d like to keep them. See, there’s this little thing we’re trying to save up for: it’s called a house. Right now in our town you need over a quarter of a million dollars to buy one, and I just learned that 10% of $250,000 is not $250. We’ve got a long way to go.

I’d ask you to pray for my parents as they travel. Not because they’re going to Turkey, which can be a scary place, but because they packed a zip lock bag of unmarked powdered laundry detergent. Turkey isn’t one of those countries that kills suspected drug traffickers is it? I’m going to go look that up.

We got the grand tour of Prince Rupert last Wednesday on our way back from Alaska. I must have missed the history class where we learned who this Prince Rupert was because I have no idea. Now I’m wondering what happened to him, because I’ve never heard of a King Rupert.

Sheena and I met up with Paul Z and got to see the “quintessential� highlights: the stuff tours don’t get to see. The best thing we saw was a wallet still containing cash at the end of our free tour. That’s the best kind of tour.

After our tour we wandered around the touristy area known as Cow bay. It’s cute. Surprisingly cute. But that wasn’t the biggest surprise. Have you ever seen kids jump when the Jack in the Box pop’s? I found out that day that my wife still does. It was so cute and funny because she got all excited about the Jack in the Box and then she proceeded to play with it: so cute. Then it popped and she jumped: hilarious. I doubled over laughing. (It should probably be noted here that I have her permission to share that story.)

If you ever find yourself in Prince Rupert you can go play with the Jack in the Box, or better yet, go to the park with the arrow that points north. Talk away to yourself audibly as you wander around. You’ll thank me latter.

A big thank you again Paul for such good times.

We booked a cruise to Alaska for several reasons.
1) The parts of Alaska that interst us most are all on the water
2) We really wanted to cruise up a Fjord but couldn’t afford to go to Norway
3) With some glaciers receeding 300 feet a year we figured it’s now or never
4) Alaska is part of the USA and America has two things Canada does not: better Hagen Daz flavours and Knott’s Berry Farm Boysenberry Syrup. Sheena and I fell in love with these two prodcucts on our honey moon in L.A.

Okay, so number four wasn’t an explicit reason for booking the trip, but I was really hopefull we would find at least one of these. I figured the syrup might be the longest shot since Alaska is a bit removed and I wasn’t sure of the distribution of the Knott’s corporation. There was a chance in my mind that Woodstock might be their method of flying products accross the country.

We landed in a very wet and soggy Juneau Sunday with the goal of finding a crocery store. We asked the visitor info guy where a grocery store was and all we got was a blank stare. After a few minutes he asked, “do you mean costco.” I didn’t even know Juneau was big enough for a costco. Apparently he wasn’t too familiar with the term “grocery store.”

Once we got throught the language barrier, we eventually got directions to a store a couple miles away. Yeah, a couple miles walk in pouring rain: no problem.

After a walk that worked off a trip to the buttet table we arribed there soaked but hopefull, even if we didn’t find what we were looking for, we were in a dry place. We turned down isle four and instantly felt dry for there, right before us was the syrup. They had one bottle left. I felt like a prospector who just found a nugget of gold.

“There is still gold in Alaska!” The guy beside me gave me a really weird look.

The freezer isle didn’t dissapoint either. We strick gold again. We were so rich.

On the walk back to the ship it was raining even harder. And the wind had picked up so much I expected to see a cow or the wicked witch of the west blow by. Not since delivering mail last winter had I gotted so cold and wet.

It was so worth it.

If you ever come over for waffles I’ll let you try some syrup.* You’ll be booking a cruise too.

*certain conditions apply phone my house for details.

I woke up this morning with huge chunks of ice floating past my window. Thinking this was cause for alarm, I grabbed my life preserver and was about to head for out muster station when Sheena stopped me. I guess those ice bergs weren’t enough to sink the ship.

Our captain is good. I don’t think we hit a single one. I don’t know how he managed to steer this giant ship around them. Maybe it’s because he’s from Norway and grew up doing this sort of thing?

Today we cruised the Tracy Arm Fjord. The scenery is amazing as mountains thousands of feet tall end right at the water line. Bears and mountain lions and mountain goats are scattered accross the slopes. It was so cool

I think the crew was loving it as much as the passengers. They were all out there taking pictures and pointing at the bears. The captain was on the bow recreating the scene from the Titanic with the first mate. I’m kidding they were doign a photo with the crew. We were told this was the first time a Royal Caribbean ship has sailed into Tracy Arm.

We saw as much of the fjord as we could. About a mile from the large glacier the inlet was plugged with ice. Practically the fjord’s version of a “Do Not Enter” sign. We could see the glacier well enough. It was huge at 200 feet tall.

Once we got to the ice we had to turn around. Ever see a cruise ship do a three point turn? It’s amazing.

We discovered Saturday that there was going to be a Sunday Church service an “Interdenominational Church Service” to be held in “Some Enchanted Evening Lounge.”

How could we not go?

We drifted off to sleep Saturday night speculating about what the service might be like. Would there be a bulletin advertising the drink of the day or the casino? Who would lead it? Was it some token Christian on the crew or did they hire a pastor to lead it? Could that be me someday?

I don’t know if I’ve ever been so excited for Church? My curiosity was killing me?

The service was not what I expected. I guess the service shouldn’t have been so surprising. After all, cruise life is so different from real life, why shouldn’t cruise church be different too?

The cruise director and his wife led the service. We sang three hymns acapella, there was a sermon on the “foot prints” poem, she read a prayer that was irrelevant to her life, and not one single verse was read from the Bible.

It was a bit sad and disapointing.

The best part was when they opened up the floor to everyone. Open mic at church? (Sheena tells me that’s not too uncommon.) A pastor got up and shared his testimony. That was good. However, he never mentioned the Bible. At least he had one with him.

Wait, the best part was actualy that this was the first time I went a whole waking hour without hearing about bingo. It was good to be there.

Hey, get this, our head waiter’s name is Jackie Chan. Isn’t that crazy?

On our fist night on the ship he was trying to convince people that he retired from making movies to do this.

There’s no way it’s the same guy. I’m not buying it. Well, I’m not buying it anymore.

Friday Sheena and I boarded a cruise ship bound for Alaska not sure of all that we would find on our adventure. No, not as stow-a-ways, we’re legitimate passengers. We’ve Paid in full.

For those who are helping Sheena count, this equals half a trip. It’s got the international thing going for it, but it’s not that long or far away. We actually said past Parksville twice. So Only one and a half trips to go.

The next few postings will be all about our trip. While they may not all be posted during the trip, they will most likely be written during it.

I hope you enjoy reading about our adventures. When we get home I’ll try and post some pictures.

I love giving gifts. Okay, so sometimes I go a bit crazy while doing so. If I’m at a birthday party and the guest of honour doesn’t open my gift right away, I sometimes loose it. I get so antsy waiting. The anticipation of their reaction can drive me crazy. Will they like it?

Usually, it’s something I have a high level of confidence that they will like. After all, I’m not a big fan of wasting money.

If there’s any reason to say that giving gifts is a selfish action this is it. I get a lot out of it.

I was reading in Genesis this morning preparing a Bible Study for Jr. High students, when I read Genesis 13:17 “Go, walk through the length and breadth of the land, for I am giving it to you.�

It struck me that perhaps God feels the same way about giving gifts that I do.

Doesn’t He seem a bit eager here to show Abram the land? He seems excited for Abram to see the gift. Then again, God is the best gift giver. He gives the best gifts. He knows that the land is good. He wants Abram to know that too. So he says “Go, walk the land. Check it out. It is yours.�

What gifts does God want to give us that we need to take hold of? I think God is eagerly waiting for us to open the gifts he gave us. He’s eager for our reaction. He wants us to go. Walk the land, so to speak. Check it out. It is ours.

Sheena loves Sushi. I do not.

I don’t hate sushi; it’s just that I don’t really enjoy it as much as I enjoy most other things: like going to the dentist. Okay, so that’s not something you’d eat, but I think I’d rather go to the dentist than out for sushi.

That sounds too strong. I’m a wuss. I don’t like pain. To put it more accurately, I’d rather have my teeth cleaned than eat sushi. Scrapping, flossing, even that gross fluoride stuff is better than sushi. If it’s a choice between getting a tooth drilled and eating sushi, the sushi wins every time.

Well…maybe.

Yesterday, I thought I’d thrill my wife with a grand display of love for her. I suggested that we go out for sushi to a new Japanese place in town that a friend recommended. Sheena had said a few times that she wanted to go. I thought she’d be thrilled if I suggested it.

I was right.

It’s been a while since I’ve seen her that excited over something. After a few minutes pouring over the menu, hearing her increasing excitement over every second wrap, she made some suggestions for ordering. I was out of my element and very glad that she stepped in.

Because of her great love for me, and knowing both my sushi situation and love of fried food, she suggested we go for a small tempura sampler and a plate of rolls. California rolls are her favourite. They were in. Grilled chicken, sounded safe for me, they were in.

Then it came down to a choice between the spicy tuna and something called a dynamite roll. The dynamite roll sounded a bit too volatile. The Spicy Tuna however, sounded just right.

The tempura came out first. Amazing. The prawns were so good. Then the rolls came out. Now, here’s where my nice little plan to show love to my wife went a bit wry.

I went head first into a spicy tuna. I should have gone for the chicken. But I didn’t. I went for the spicy tuna. The spicy tuna did not like that. It tried to make me gag. There sat my lovely wife watching me gag on the spicy tuna.

The problem was that the wrapper sued by this place was a lot chewier than I was used to from my previous sushi adventures. (Yes, I said adventure. After all, isn’t eating sushi always an adventure.) It was a weird consistency and I couldn’t break it down. Add to that a spicy chunk of raw tuna squirting around in my mouth. (Or is swimming a better term for it?) I just couldn’t seem to get it down.

Haggis wasn’t this hard to swallow.

There was Sheena, seated across the table from me, watching me gag, on the verge of throwing up. I’m thinking, “What have I done? Why did I ever suggest sushi?� She’s thinking, “This is so good. What’s the matter with him?�

A few minutes latter I heard the words I least wanted to hear: “those last few are for you.�

I think my face turned the colour of wasabi. Okay, here we go again.