HANNAHSBut

Yesterday I was the "Special Feature" at Riverview's Ladies' Morning Out ministry on Thursday mornings.  I had the kids come with me and they watched a video on my computer in my office while I was doing my thing.  When I was done I came and collected them and we left.

This morning, however, I came into my office and noticed that three post-it notes were stuck to the table on my desk.  Apparently the video didn't keep their attention and they wanted to draw.  Hence (click to enlarge):

The two seemingly handlebar mustachioed creatures on the left are new to me.  I've never seen either of my kids draw them before, so I'm not sure what they are, or who it was that drew them.  But they don't look very happy.

The center drawing is Jamie's signature: a penguin (yes, that's a penguin).  Apparently the penguin lives on a hill under a tree, and it's a bright sunny day.

The third picture is Hannah's signature: a cheetah (yes, that's a cheetah).  The text seems to read "HANNAHSBut."  Here's what I think happened: Hannah drew the cheetah and wrote her name above it, hence the "HANNAH."  Her big brother came along afterward, and added the "SBut."  I assume he meant for it to say "HANNAH'S (a) But(t)" but due to his limited spelling and grammar capabilities, was only able to get out "HANNAHSBut."

Aside from one of my children calling the other a butt, it was an amusing start to the day.

UPDATE: This morning The Mrs. asked Hannah about the cheetah picture with the text on it.  Hannah said that the text says, "Hannah and Spot" (the name of the cheetah) although all she got out wast "HANNAHSBut."  I guess in her mind, "Spot" is spelled "sbut."  I guess I'll cut her some slack.  She's only 4 after all!

The Whitewashed Daredevil

Today was a great day to go sledding: 40 degrees and sunny.  It was warm enough that the kids didn't have to dress too heavily in order to go sledding.  The local hill we frequent had a nice sized jump which, of course, Jamie had to try.  Here's the result of his first go at it with some decent speed while his sister looks on from a distance.

Oddly enough, Jamie is somewhat of a daredevil when it comes to more extreme ways to have fun.  He's more than willing to take risks, and when those risks result in injury, unlike most kids, he doesn't let that stop him from taking even more risks.  He does things at age six that I've never done in my life because I'm too much of a wimp.

This demeanor of his is interesting, because in most other areas he's more timid and simple.  But show him something risky and potentially dangerous or challenging recreation, and he's right there to do it.  Like my sister says, most young kids have a dangerous side to them, but once they get hurt they usually wise up and grow out of it.  Not my kid.

For example, his complaint about the high dive at the community swimming pool is that it's not high enough.  I guess he'd prefer one that's twelve feet tall in instead of the 8 or 10 foot one that is there.  And this six year old is insisting that he wants to try water skiing this summer on Uncle Matt's boat.  We'll see about that one.

In the mean time, maybe I should get him some skydiving lessons.

"Thursday, October Halloween, 2013"

We have a large pocket folder/hanger thingy/calendar hanging in our kitchen.  Each day the kids take turns putting the number of the day's date in the pockets on the hanger and then say the date.  It's a good way for them to practice knowing how to read and use a calendar.  For today's date, instead of a "31" the calendar simply says "Halloween."  This morning, Ferg said, "Today is Thursday, October Halloween, 2013."  Close enough, I guess.

This year it seems as though there have been an inordinate number of online articles published by various authors and organizations that address how Christians should approach Halloween.  To costume, or not to costume?  To trick or treat, or not to trick or treat?  These are the questions that preoccupy the hearts of Christians at this time of year.

Some people appeal to the pagan roots of Halloween - which to be sure, are there - as a reason to not celebrate.  Others point to how Halloween has become somewhat of a low-brow holiday, as it seems the goal is to see how gory, disgusting, or risque we can get without crossing a line (or maybe intentionally crossing several lines).  Still others balk at how closely related Halloween is to death, witches, ghosts, etc., and don't want to be a part of it.  These are definitely good reasons to abstain.

Those Christians who do celebrate the holiday, however, usually justify their participation by arguing that Halloween is a cultural holiday, and amounts to nothing more than dressing up the young'ns in cute costumes and shuffling them off from house to house, and then sneaking some candy out of their bags after they go to bed.  This is mostly where I fall, for several reasons that I won't go into here.

Interestingly, opinions on whether or not to celebrate Halloween vary even amongst the members of our church.  There are some who partake, and some who abstain.  Who's right?  They all are.

I don't want to oversimplify the question, but to me it seems that there is an easier response to the question of whether or not Christians should celebrate Halloween.  As I see it, in order to answer this question, one should read the Bible, pray, and then do whatever one wants.  Abstain or partake, either one - as long as you are informed by scripture and are walking in the Spirit.  Based on this approach, whatever you decide will be right and good.  The minute we start making our opinion a standard by which we judge others, however, we have erred.  I don't think that one can hold up his or her beliefs on the celebration of Halloween as a standard of righteousness for all others.  The Bible doesn't speak clearly on this issue, and we should allow for differences.

So go trick or treating tonight with the little ones.  Or don't.  Whatever you decide will be what is best.  But in whatever you do, take some biblical wisdom along with you.  The first thing that comes to mind when I think about this participating in Halloween, specifically when it comes to costumes, celebrations, etc., is Philippians 4.8: Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.  

You're Gonna Have to Wait for that Penguin

This summer at our church I am privileged to teach an intergenerational Sunday School class called "Lord, Teach Us To Pray."  As you might have guessed, the class focuses on prayer - the Lord's prayer, specifically - and uses it as a model for all prayer.  Today's class examined the "in heaven" portion of the opening of the Lord's prayer, and we talked about how, when we pray, we should acknowledge in our hearts and minds how God is in heaven - that is, he is the Lord of the universe, looking down on all things, observing all things, and doing whatever he pleases.

Like I already said, this is an intergenerational class, which means that all ages are combined (K through adult).  This format makes it possible from the young to learn from the old, and vice versa.  It also affords families the chance to look at the Bible together during the class and talk about the subjects the material presents.  As the teacher, I feel really privileged to be a part of the class.

This year The Mrs. and I thought that our oldest child would be "with it" enough to attend this class, even though he is just entering kindergarten this year.  After all, we thought, even if some of the content was over his head, it would at least be beneficial for him to see other people devoting themselves to the word, and he could get a good sense of the corporate nature of the church.  So we have been having him attend the classes.

This week the lesson talked about how God answers prayer in three ways: either "Yes," "No," or "Wait," and how all of these answers are good and right for us (even if it isn't the answer we want) because God is always good and loving, and always does what is best for us.  At the end of the class I passed out a little diagram of a stoplight that had these three answers on the sheet next to the green light (yes), the yellow light (wait), and the red light (no).  I encouraged the class to think of times when they prayed prayers and received on or more of these answers to their prayer, and to share that with the group.

After church this morning, my son showed me his sheet.  I was blown away by what I saw, partly because it was very cute, but also because it was a very real interaction from a five year old with the ideas regarding the subject of prayer that we have been tackling in Sunday School.  His sheet is pictured at left.  Click to enlarge

A bit of interpreting needs to be done in order to understand the sheet.  The picture at the top of the page is of our now deceased cat, Bartholomew.  Ferg explained to me that he had prayed that Bartholomew would live, but that God's answer to that was "No" since Bartholomew died (and actually, he still prays for Bartholomew on a regular basis, even though he has been gone for about two years now).

The picture at the bottom of the page is of our cat Martha, who is very much alive.  Jamie said that he prays that she will be a healthy cat.  Since she has suffered no significant illness, God's answer to that prayer so far been "Yes."

And then finally, the somewhat indistinguishable picture in the center of the page is of a penguin.  "Why did you draw a penguin in the 'wait' circle, James?" one might ask.  "Because I prayed that God would give me a penguin, and I haven't gotten one yet, so the answer must be 'wait.'"

I don't mean to brag on my son too much, nor would I say that he's especially smart or in tune to the spiritual realm, nor would I say that he is even a Christian, but this just goes to show that kids can apprehend and grasp a lot more than people think.

Father's Day

Here's what my kids got me for Father's Day.

Preschool Problems

Something happened today at my son's preschool that didn't sit well with me, and it's still not settling this evening, almost 12 hours later.

A few weeks ago we received a flyer in Ferg's backpack inviting our family to a preschool picnic after class one day.  All the students were invited to go to the local park with their parent(s), have an outdoor meal, and then play on the playground.  The Mrs. determined to take the day off from work so we could all attend.  Before the event, she told me to ask the teachers if siblings were allowed to come to the picnic too, in which case we would bring Hanburger too if it was OK.

The next time I picked up Ferg from class, I asked his lead teacher if it was OK that Hannah come to the picnic.  She looked at me with a blank stare, as though she had no idea what I was talking about.  "Uh, the picnic?" I said.  "We received a flyer in Jamie's backpack saying that there was a picnic scheduled for this Thursday."

"Oh!" she said, as though the light finally clicked on in her head.  "That's not a school function.  One of the mom's from the class decided to schedule a picnic with the kids, so she sent home the flyer."

"Oh, OK," said I, knowing then that Hannah could go to the picnic too.

Now cut to a week or so ago.  For the past few years my family has hosted a Backyard Bible Club (ByBC) in our home for a week in the summer.  We try to invite as many neighborhood kids as we can to hang out at our house, do some fun stuff, and learn about Jesus.  This year, since Jamie was in preschool, we decided it might be good for him to take some ByBC invitations to school and pass them out to his friends.

This, we thought, would be OK since something of a precedent was set by the mom sending home flyers for the picnic.  But we knew that it would most likely be inappropriate to ask the teachers to insert an invitation into each child's backpack.  So we made sure to stress with the Ferguson that he should pass out the invitations himself to his friends.  We were not asking the school to pass them out - he should pass them out himself.  That way, even though it is a religious event sponsored by a church, the school would not be endorsing it, and it would be completely student-led and initiated.

We planned for Jamie to pass the invitations out earlier this week, but the day he was going to do it he forgot the invitations in the car.  So we had to wait until today, Thursday, which also happens to be his last day of school for the year.  This morning, as I dropped Jamie off at school and put his backpack in his locker, I made sure to point out to him that the invitations were in there, and that when class was over he should pull them out and give them to his friends.  He was all set to do it, and he was excited to do it.

At the time for pickup, I was standing outside the classroom doors, waiting for Jamie to be excused.  The way they excuse the kids from class is to get them all ready (coats on, backpacks on, etc.) and then call them out one by one when their parents arrive to receive them.  I was standing outside the room, looking at all the kids through the window in the doors.  Then I saw Jamie with his backpack.  He looked inside and picked out the invitations, holding them up for one of his co-teachers to see.  He handed them to her, and she looked them, and then handed them off to the lead teacher.  The lead teacher then looked at the invitations, and proceeded to make a phone call to someone, presumably regarding the invitations that Jamie had produced.  After a few second call, the lead teacher handed the invitations back to the co-teacher, who proceeded to come out of the classroom and gave the invitations to me, saying, "He can't pass these out in the classroom, but he can pass them out when the kids have left class."

This was strange, I thought.  Why?  What's the difference?  "Oh well," I thought, "no reason to make a big deal out of it.  I'm sure they will let Jamie out first so he can stand by the door and hand the invitations out to the other kids as they exit the room."

But this was not the case.  Jamie was not the first to be excused.  Nor was he the second, or third, or fourth, fifth, sixth, or seventh.  I didn't keep an exact count, but there were at least seven kids to leave the room before him.  By the time he got out of the room and I gave the invitations to him, more than half of the kids in the class had left.

But the bigger problem was that, by this time, he had become so frazzled by all of the drama surrounding the invitations, that he had completely lost all of his gumption for handing them out.  In fact, he refused to do so.  He wanted me to hand them out.

By this time, I was starting to get perturbed - not at Jamie, but at how the whole situation was unfolding.  Here was a kid who was excited to invite his friends to his Backyard Bible Club - of his own volition - and he was being thwarted and discouraged from doing so at every turn.  By the time we left, I was an unhappy pappy.

As I have reflected on the situation throughout the day, I have some questions regarding the situation.

First, was I wrong to assume that my child could independently hand out invitations to something at his house?  I know that some school districts don't allow any children to distribute any literature for any event or reason.  This could clearly not be the case at our school, though, since we were invited to a picnic by a mom from the class.  And more than that, that invitation came in our child's take-home folder.  Why is it OK to invite kids to a picnic via the take-home folder, but it's not OK for a kid to independently (not via the take-home folder) give out invitations to a Backyard Bible Club?  I would submit to you it is that the invitations Jamie was handing out contained four peculiar words: "Bible," "Jesus Christ," and "God."

Second, who did the lead teacher call?  And why did she feel the need to consult the higher ups?  I don't know.  I'd like to assume the best in this situation, but that's getting harder to do the more I think about how all this went down.

Third, why is it OK for Jamie to hand out the invitations outside the classroom but not inside, as the co-teacher told me?  How does a change of 10 feet make it permissible to invite people to a private religious function?

Fourth, how does a father explain this to his child?  This is a particularly tough situation, because Jamie really wanted to pass out the invitations, and he is wondering why his marvelous teachers (really, they are great) wouldn't let him pass out his invitations.  It's a sticky wicket that I'm still working through.  I'm sure we'll end up talking about it for a couple more days.

It would appear that my experience was not peculiar, as a quick internet search reveals several news stories and forums that talk about this same issue.  Take this one, for example, and be sure to read the comments.  It would seem that the majority of those commenting believe that as long as a religious flyer is distributed by the student and not by the school then there's no issue.  Hence the reason we told Jamie that he should be the one distributing the invitations and not giving them to his teachers to stuff into backpacks.

But it was not to be for us.  What a shame.  I feel bad for my son.

Unrelated Things (That Are Somehow Related)

Today was an interesting day.  Most days are, but this one even more so.

Thursday is one of our "school days," which means that Ferguson goes to preschool for two hours and fifteen minutes.  This morning, as we were getting dressed and ready for school, I got a call from the Mrs.  She seemed a little verklempt on the phone, and she quickly explained that one of the students in the special ed. department where she works had passed away suddenly and unexpectedly from what appears to have been a seizure.  The student was not in her class, but was one that she worked closely with on a regular basis.  Knowing that I am a police chaplain for two different local departments, she asked if there was anything I could do to help the family, and I told her I could look into it, but probably wouldn't be able to until some time after noon.  More on that in a minute.

So the kids and I finished getting dressed and we went to school.  After dropping the Ferguson off at his class, Han and I made our way to church for Ladies' Morning Out, where I teach a class of ladies about the names of God.  This week's name that we were studying happened to be Jehovah Rophe - "The Lord My Healer."  A part of my lesson was about the difficult truth that God chooses sometimes not to answer our prayers for healing in the ways that we would like.  Sometimes he allows the ailment or injury to continue and linger on.  While this may be the case, it is also true that whatever God does is for the good of those who love him and have been called according to his purpose.  So if God doesn't answer our prayers for healing, we can take heart that God is doing something good for us.  We may not know what it is just yet, but it is a reality that we must trust.

Also, I told the ladies about how God sometimes heals people through death.  There are some prayers for healing that God does not answer this side of the grave.  Instead, he heals a person by allowing them to die and go to be with him, where there is no sickness, no cancer, no injuries or ailments.  This is the ultimate form of healing, as my friend Al Ahlquist told me one time before he died of pancreatic cancer: "Death is the ultimate form of healing."  It's a difficult truth, but one that we must come to terms with: sometimes God heals through death.

After lunch the Mrs. called and asked what I could do as a police chaplain to see what was going on with the family of her now deceased student.  I've been on a death notification call before and have a bit of experience with some of the processes around how the police and coroner's offices handle sudden deaths.  The Mrs. relayed that the child's father had been in contact with some people at the school and had implied that he could really use some counseling.  I ended up calling the city's police department and getting ahold of the chaplain that was assigned to the case.  He assured me that he would get in contact with the father and talk to him and perhaps even point him to a local church or ministry that could minister to him in this time of need.  I was glad that someone was able to help him, and that it turned out to be the same chaplain he had worked with when it was discovered that his child had died tragically.

The day before all this happened I had told the kids that we would go to the church to practice riding bikes in the parking lot.  We told the Ferguson that we were going to start trying to ride his bike with the training wheels off - a proposition that he wasn't necessarily excited about, but seemed willing to try.  Needless to say, the kids were looking forward to when Mom would return home so we could go bike riding.  The Mrs. returned home from work after an understandably long and heavy day, especially after telling the other students about the tragedy, but she sucked it up and we all piled in the car after loading up the bikes.

We got to the church and immediately had the Ferguson start trying to ride without training wheels.  He had the usual difficulties that kids have doing such a thing, but after a while he got the hang of it.  Pretty soon he was riding long distances like a champ, although he was still a little shaky.  His pride and joy were overflowing as a result of being able to ride his own two-wheeler!  It was a blast to see him get the hang of it, and then to really enjoy the fact that he was able to do what he was doing.  What a privilege for a parent.  We celebrated with supper at a local restaurant.  Below is a a short video record of the process.



In many ways, our day today was a dichotomy between the difficulties of death and the joy of life.  Combine that with the fact that my head was already full of all kinds of thoughts about death, sickness, and healing.  All of the news about death in our day today, combined with seeing the triumph and joy in my child's eyes as he learned to ride his bike presents a stark contrast that can make your head spin.

One family in the city mourns the tragic loss of a seemingly healthy teenage child, while another (mine) celebrates a new experience and triumph in the life of their child.

5 Year Olds, and the Doctrine of the Trinity

Ever had one of those questions from your kids that you have no idea how to answer in a way that they will understand?  I had one of those tonight.

Jamie said that no one could do the things that God could do.  I affirmed this notion, and said that neither he nor I could do things like God does.  Then I said to him, "Only one person can do the things God can do.  Do you know who that is?"

"Who?" he answered.

"God!"  I said.  "Only God can do the great things that God does."

"Oh.  What about Jesus?"

"Well, Jesus is God, so Jesus can do those great things too.  Remember, Jesus is God's Son, so Jesus is also God," I explained.

"Oh," Ferg replied.  "So there are two Gods?"

Uh oh.

"Well, no, Jesus and God are the same.  They are two distinct persons, yet the same one God."

"Oh," Jamie answered, feigning complete comprehension.

How do you explain to a five year old that God is three distinct persons, yet one God?  When you figure it out, let me know and I'll have the "trinity talk" with my five year old.

2012: A Space Oddysey

Yesterday, on Labor Day 2012, my son, my dad, my wife and daughter, my sister, and I went to Awesomeville to launch some rockets.  One of the rockets my son and I built during our time at Family Camp.  We're going to send that one up again.  We also bought a second rocket that he assembled with my dad.  This one had a clear payload section where you could put a little traveler and launch him into space as well.

The video begins with a "press conference" with the Chief Engineer.  Getting him to talk about the upcoming launch was like pulling teeth.  Then the video moves on to both of the launches we did yesterday.

I have a lot of memories of launching rockets with my dad when I was a kid.  Hopefully this will stick in Ferg's memory too.

When God Burps

My son James is in a fun phase right now where he points out how God is either bigger, stronger, or better than any and everything he sees.  For example, tonight we went to a Twins game at Target Field and were seated rather high up in the stands.  Jamie exclaimed, "Wow, we're pretty high!  But we're not as high up as God."  Earlier today he told me that Goliath was strong, but he wasn't as strong as God.

This has been going on for some time.  If he sees a tall building, he'll remark that it's not as tall as God.  If he has a good idea, he'll follow it up by saying that he's not as smart as God.

Tonight at the Twins game, I got a couple root beers for the family.  We were drinking them together, and as root beer tends to make one do, I burped.  Jamie had a chuckle over it, then said, "Hey Dad, that was a big burp, but you know what?  It's not nearly as big as one of God's burps."

Fun at Family Camp

This past week my family was graciously treated to a week of Family Camp at Village Creek Bible Camp.  This was the first Family Camp I had attended since I was probably eight years old.  We had a blast - Dad, Mom, and kids.  Below are some links to videos that we took of our time at camp (all of the kids, of course).

While I was camp pastoring at Junior 2, the camp asked me to introduce a Bible verse song (basically a verse from the Bible set to music).  I chose 1 Timothy 6.12 by The Rizers.  We sang it at Family Camp too, although this time my kids wanted to help "lead" it.  Here it is.

Jamie and I had the opportunity to build a model rocket and then launch it on the last day of camp.  He chose to build "The Zinger," a small one-stage rocket that flies up to 600 feet in the air.  We called it "The Flight of the Zinger."  There was a minor hangup that you can sort of see in the video, in that the rocket's parachute cord wrapped around the fins, preventing it from opening.  This meant that the rocket dropped like a rock back to earth.  Thankfully a nearby staff member caught the plummeting rocket in his hat, softening the blow.  Jamie loved the whole process of building and launching the rocket.  We built the rocket early in the week, but didn't launch it till the last day.  Every day between building and launching it, Jamie had to check on it several times.  He'd simply go into the craft room to make sure that it was still where he left it.

A couple times during the week they invited kids to the front of the room to do some dancing.  It's amazing how when funky music gets played, kids just can't help but dance.  It's also interesting how no one has to teach them how to dance - they just do it.  Must be instinctual.  Ferg and Han jumped right in and got funky.  

Jamie loves archery, or as he calls it, "Archery Arrows."  It's become his favorite thing to do at camp.  The other two times we were there this summer we only got to do it for about 10 minutes in between rotations when no campers were around.  This time, however, we participated in a whole archery instruction hour.  This meant Jamie could shoot arrows for a full 60 minutes.  I never figured he'd keep an interest in it for that long, but to my surprise, he just kept shooting and shooting.  The incredible thing is that he missed the target almost every time, but he kept wanting to shoot and shoot.  He probably shot somewhere around 75 arrows.  6 landed on the target, and each one was like a present at Christmas.  It was fun to watch.

While the adults were in chapel, youth volunteers were teaching the young'ns to memorize Ephesians 6.10-13.  Some people don't think that young kids can memorize scripture.  I've shown this to be untrue here and here.  For some reason I can't get the video of the kids reciting the verses to upload to Youtube, so you'll have to take my word for it.  They did a great job.

Kids Make Dad Smile

This has been a rough week.  I've been sick and mostly out of commission since Saturday, and this is one of the busiest weeks of my year.  Next week I'll be at camp for almost the whole week, so needless to say, there's lots of work to be done.  I've had to work weird hours so as to not infect my coworkers while still be able to actually get some things done.  I haven't been home much, and I feel continually ill.  Ugh.  Like I said, a rough week.

Cut to tonight.  I get home from my meeting, and I found the following video, made for me by my wife and kids.



I've got a great family.

Florida Trip: Day 4

Today was the free day of the Triennial Conference, and my family chose to go to Disney World.  We left by about 8:30 this morning and arrived to at the park around 9:00.  After paying the hefty parking fee we rode the monorail into Disney World and started riding rides, having fun, and dropping money like we had holes in our pockets.  We took 294 pictures today, all of which we obviously can't post.  But for a brief selection, see here.

Jamie and Beetz get ready to take off on Dumbo.

We started out by riding the Dumbo ride, and then went on to Winnie the Pooh.  After that we moved on to do It's a Small World, and a few others that I already don't remember (I'm totally shot).  I do remember two rides significantly: Peter Pan and Pirates of the Caribbean.  I remember the Pirates one because it was an absolutely horrible decision to have Hannah go on that.  She was really scared.  The ride was really dark and had some skeletons in it, and at one point there was a pirate ship "shooting" canons at our boat.  I think that's what freaked her out the most.

I thought the Peter Pan ride was the best one we went on all day.  You start out in a ship that's on a track, and as you go along, you can see that the track eventually ends.  I was actually kind of nervous as I saw our car moving towards the end of the track, but we weren't slowing down.  As the track ends, the ship sails up into the air and spends the rest of the ride taking you all over the place from a track on the ceiling.  It was rather unexpected, and the rest of the ride was visually stunning.

Han was really excited to see Cinderella's castle.

It was somewhere between 90-95 in Orlando today, so needless to say, everyone was really hot and sweaty as the day wore on.  One thing that Disney World does well is air conditioning: all of the ride waiting areas are air conditioned, which is kind of strange, considering that none of them are enclosed - it's just cool air going right outside (something that would drive my dad nuts if he were ever there: "We're not paying to cool down the outside!").

Considering Han's recently diagnosed illness, and since both kids were up half the night coughing last night, the day got kind of long pretty quick.  There was some whining and crying, but I think the kids enjoyed themselves well enough.  We got back to the hotel room tonight, ordered pizza, and the kids were out like lights.

Now for some of my personal thoughts about Disney in general.  All my life I’ve heard about how great Disney World/Land is, and how life-changing of an experience it is to there.  Well, I never got to have that experience – until today.  Growing up in a family of modest means, we never had the money to go on vacations to places like Disney World.  In fact, the biggest vacation we ever took during my childhood was a road trip in a 1976 Winnebago to Mt. Rushmore in the Black Hills, South Dakota.  And that was fine with me.

Needless to say, I’ve had kind of a bad reaction to all the folks who have told me how amazing Disney World is.  In fact, I’ve even had people express disbelief that I could actually be a functional human being without having been to one of the Disneys at some point in my life.  Guess what: I’m a normal human being.  My family just didn’t have the money to do that stuff.  I turned out alright.  Actually, I think I’m better for it.  I don’t want to come off as some kind of self-righteous anti-Disney snob, but I balk at the idea that an experience at Disney World/Land is an essential part of a kid’s growing up experience.

My wife, on the other hand, has been to Disney World four times and has fallen in love with it.  Contrary to the way that I was not a Disney kid, she was.  She idolized Cinderella and wanted to be a princess; she fell in love with all the characters and wanted to be Minnie Mouse; whatever.  The point is, that she is one of the folks who believes that, although it may not be essential to a kid’s growing up experience, a visit to Disney World can be a great part of a kid’s life.

Our differing perspectives have caused no small amount of marital discord and difficulty planning our activities whilst in the Sunshine State.  Nevertheless, I relented and we visited Disney World on this, our free day, from the NAB Triennial Conference. 

Now that I’ve been to Disney, I can’t say I’m too impressed.  In fact, my impression of Disney World is basically that it is a more elaborate version of Valley Fair.  Admittedly, I’m not really into amusement parks in general, or rides or roller coasters (nor have I ever been), and I was never really into Disney stuff as a kid.  Of course I knew who all the Disney characters were, but I never had the toys, stuffed animals, t-shirts, or anything else.  I didn’t even really care for the movies or TV shows that much.  I was more into riding bikes, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Star Trek, and baseball when I was a kid.  So there is probably a disconnect that exists that limits how excited I can even get about something like Disney World (then again, I’m not much for Valley Fair, or even the State fair, for that matter).

One thing that did stand out to me, though, was how the good folks at Disney have seen fit to strip you down and shake every dollar you own out of your pockets.  There is a fee or charge for everything Disney.  And anything you might actually want, or even need, to buy is exorbitantly priced.  Our lunch today was from a café that served Burger King-quality food, from which we purchased a hamburger, cheeseburger, hotdog, three French fries, and two pops.  Total price: $33.00.  It wasn’t even that great of food.  Given the price of admission, the parking costs, the food costs, and all the merchandise costs, they must be raking in an amazing amount of money there every day. 

Overall, though, it was a fun trip, and I think the kids enjoyed it (illness and lack of sleep may have hindered their ability to have as good a time as they might have were they in good health and spirits).  At least now I know what all the hype is about, and what I supposedly missed out on as a kid.  But I’d still like to go back to the Black Hills some day!

Florida Trip: Day 1

The Mrs. went through the house this morning at about 5:30 AM waking the slumbering and calling them to prepare for departure.  The family rose from their slumber post haste, got dressed, and got to the airport, thanks to my early-rising mother.

The airport process went smoothly, even though I was totally uninformed regarding the new airport security procedures (our honeymoon was the last time I flew - nine years ago!).  Thankfully a flight attendant was in line behind me and walked me through all of the things I needed to do.  I wasn't searched or groped by TSA agents, but looking back on the process I think I dodged a significant bullet.  I didn't realize it until after the fact, but the shorts I had chosen to wear today recently had the zipper tab break off.  The zipper still works fine, but there's no tab to hold on to, to pull the zipper up when need be.  To remedy this situation, a few weeks ago I found a thin piece of metal with pointy ends that I was able to stick through the zipper and bend the metal around it, creating something I can grasp with my fingers in order to zip my fly.  I hadn't even thought about the potential ramifications for me if that quick fix was discovered at the airport.  I can't imagine a piece of thin, pointy metal would be welcome on airplanes, considering that they won't even let you take a nail clippers on board anymore.  Especially when it could be construed that I was trying to smuggle the pointy metal onboard via the zipper on my shorts!  Nevertheless, I went through the metal detector and set off no alarms and raised no suspicion.  I think I'll credit God for blinding the "eyes" of the metal detector and letting me through without any repercussions.

Our nervousness about our kids' potential bad reaction to flying was unfounded.  They loved it, and had no problems whatsoever.  Ferg loved looking out the window, and Han commented, "I like that ride."  I, on the other hand, remembered why I don't like flying.  It's strange.  I tend to get all excited every time I fly, and I love watching the speed and power with which an airplane takes off as it leaves the ground.  But then, after about five or ten minutes of flying, I'm ready to be done.  The novelty of it wears off on me pretty quickly.

We landed at Orlando International about five minutes ahead of schedule and proceeded to ride the shuttle to baggage claim, where Betsy and I split up: she to baggage claim, and me to go pick up our rental car.  The rental agent told me to go into a specific lot and just pick any SUV I wanted, and that the keys were already in them.  I found the key, alright, but it was nothing like anything I had ever seen before.  In fact, it wasn't a key.  I knew that some models had switched to this type of ignition system, but I'd never used one before.  I kept putting the device to the steering column, thinking that some kind of electronic signal would be conveyed and the car would magically start up.  I finally had to approach the lot attendant and admit my ignorance.  Turns out the key needs only to be somewhere in the vicinity of the center console, the break needs to be applied, and a button pushed in order to start the engine.  So off we went in our Dodge Journey.

The weather in Orlando today has been a pleasant and dry 90 degrees.  Not too bad, considering the weather back home is over 100.

We arrived at the Ramada Westgate at around 3:00 PM, local time, and The Mrs. and I proceeded to take a nap.  The kids were supposed to nap too, but I think they were too excited and just chatted with each other.  We eventually awoke and headed down to the pool.  Something funky about that pool water.  It was bath-tub warm, and it was very salty.  Hopefully not "people salty."  Hopefully there was just an abundance of chlorine that gave it the weird flavor.

The Ramada Westgate is located on what I'll call "Disney Rowe."  The theme parks are not far away, and every other structure and building on this street sells Disney T-shirts and tickets to the parks.  Lots of money to be made on that, I imagine.

We ended the night early, and I'm the only one who is currently awake as I write this.  The kids are both asleep, and The Mrs. slumbers peacefully beside me.  Tomorrow we're going on a beach adventure, which should truly be an adventure, since there are no beaches near Orlando, and we have no idea where we are going.

NOTE: see this page for daily pictorial updates from our trip.

A Tale of Two Parades

Every year we look forward to the Kaposia Days Parade that goes right down our street in South St. Paul.  The parade is part of a larger, weekend-long celebration celebrating the anniversary of the city's founding.  Each year at the parade there are lots of cool floats, and an unbelievable amount of candy for the kids (seriously, kids get more candy from parades nowadays than I ever got for Halloween when I was a kid).  We also invite a bunch of people from church to come over and watch the parade at our house.  It's a lot of fun.

Last year I was able to snap this photo during the parade while several guys on motorcycles rode down the street.  As you can tell, it was a tad too loud for The Furgeson.  I really like this picture for some reason.

Cut to this year's parade.  Once again, there were guys on motorcycles tooling around on the street, and once again it was a bit loud for The Fergeson, although this year he didn't react so much in fear as he did in amazement at the noise.  Here's this year's pic.

I really like this picture too.  I don't consider myself as being particularly skilled in photography, but something about these pictures is just really neat (I suppose it could be that it's my own son in them!).

Too Loud

I really dig this picture.

I took it during the Kaposia Days parade, which goes right down our street. Jamie was on the curb with a bunch of other kids from church, trying to collect as much candy as he could from the people in the parade. At one point, a group of guys on motorcycles came driving by in circles. They were pretty loud, and Ferg seems to have an aversion to even semi-loud noises recently. He thought the motorcycles were cool, but he wasn't much of a fan of the loud exhaust.

Where Does the Bible Come From, Dad?

Tonight during our bedtime routine, I was singing the "Matthew 5.8" song from Seeds Family Worship with The Fergeson. I asked him what he thought it meant that, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." He didn't know what it meant, which didn't surprise me. So we talked about that a bit. Then I told him that "blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God" is something that Jesus tells us in the Bible.

Then he asked, "Where does the Bible come from, Dad?" This caught me a bit off guard, just because it seemed to come out of left field, but I told him that the Bible is God's message to us. He had people write it down so we could read it. "Oh," he said.

Then the next question really caught me off guard: "How is God going to put the Bible in our mailbox?" Huh? In our mailbox? Then it hit me. Earlier tonight I told Jamie that I ordered a new storybook Bible that would be coming in the mail in a few days. He was really excited for it to come so we could read it.

So I told him that we were just waiting for the Bible to arrive at our house but, in a way, God was putting the Bible in our mailbox. No matter how we get it, we get it from God. He seemed OK with that answer. It was pretty cute.

A Whirlwind Weekend

A month or so ago I got an email from Camie Treptau, director of Village Creek Bible Camp, asking if I would be willing to put together a group of guys to come and lead worship at this weekend's Men and Boys retreat. Camie had been asking us to lead worship for this retreat for the past two or three years, and there was always some reason why we weren't able to do it. I asked the guys in the band this year, and everyone was able to go. The only sticking point was that just a few days before I received the email from Camie, Vern Hildebrandt had asked me to preach at the Dakota County Jail for our church's turn in the jail ministry rotation on the same Sunday of the retreat weekend, which I agreed to do. I made preparations for both, however, making sure that the band could cover for me not being there.

So the preparations were made, and Ferg and I headed out for camp on Friday afternoon. Jamie loves the camp, and he usually asks me at least once a week if we can go there. He was really jazzed about being able to go. But this time, he was really whiny ("Are we there yet?"). I encouraged him to just sit back, relax, and try to take a nap, which he did.

Being down at camp was busy. We had zero time to rehearse our sets before we went down to camp, so we spent a significant time rehearsing in the indoor chapel. So coordinating that, while trying to connect to the speaker for the weekend to make sure everything fit together, while trying to manage a three year old was rather taxing. Add onto that that I never sleep well at camp. My body just doesn't like camp beds. So sleep was at a minimum.

On Saturday we got to do some fun camp stuff, and Ferg went nuts, doing all the camp stuff he could do, including the trampoline. At one point he actually said in amazement, "I'm flying!" I like to watch him have fun.

But by Saturday night it was time for us to leave, as I had to be on my way to the Dakota County jail by 8 AM Sunday morning. We left the camp at about 8:40, and got home at around midnight (I drove a little slower because I was overly paranoid about hitting a deer). After unpacking my stuff and getting everything settled at home, it was 1 AM before I went off to bed.

I woke up at 7 AM the next morning and headed to church to unpack my amplifier and guitar and put back the stuff I borrowed from the church for the retreat. Then it was a 25 minute ride to the jail.

I've been to the jail several times, but never to preach. Usually I go along as the musical talent. There are a few songs that we like to sing for and with the inmates, and they seem to really enjoy it. I think they just like something to break up the monotony of prison life. Either way, I think they are blessed by it, so it's well worth the effort.

Doing ministry (or anything, for that matter) at the jail is quite an involved process. As soon as you get there you have to put your ID into a metal box that someone on the other side of dark glass checks, to make sure you're clean. Sometimes the prison guards have even wanted to search our guitar cases and instruments before we are allowed into the jail. But then again, sometimes you move right through as if you were just entering a high school or something. This time it was pretty easy: we just showed our ID's and they brought us right through.

This time our team consisted of three people: myself, Vern Hildebrandt, and Mario Castillo. If you know Vern, you've never really truly seen him in his element until you see him "working" the crowd of prisoners. Vern goes to the jail each Wednesday also, to lead a Bible study. He has an incredible heart for the prisoners.

The jail service takes place in the gymnasium (which is interesting - the Dakota County jail actually feels more like a high school than it does a jail - the doors all look the same, and there are even classrooms down the hallways, and even a gym; but I've never seen the cells where the prisoners stay - maybe I just get to see the good side of jail!). About 80 guys came to "church" today.

The guys show up in different groups, depending on their security level, and by the time we were supposed to start, one of the guards informed us that one of the groups had gotten held up in the medical wing - guys were still getting their meds and would be late to the service. He asked us if we just wanted to start anyway, or wait for them. Vern said we should wait for them, and he asked me what we could do to kill some time. I grabbed my guitar and asked if anybody there liked bluesy, gospel music, to which most of them replied positively. So I was able to teach them one of the songs my band does, "Walk With Me." They loved it. They sang along great. It was a lot of fun. Then I sang "Precious Lord, Take My Hand" for them too, which I think they liked.

After we started Mario Castillo gave his testimony. Mario also has a great heart for ministry to the prisoners, and he has a powerful testimony of how God has worked in his life. Mario has some good ministry ahead of him.

Then I got to preach. I must confess that as I was preparing what I was going to say earlier in the week, I was a little nervous. What does one say to a group of 80 prisoners? Most of these guys are pretty hard looking, and have been around the block a few times to say the least. I pretty much couldn't have less in common with them! I concluded that the most important thing was to just be myself, and not try to be someone/thing I wasn't, and to just deliver the gospel as I knew it.

The Gideons have supplied all the prisoners with Bibles, but most of the guys are completely unfamiliar with scripture, so I made sure to have page numbers ready for them to look up the passages I was talking about. And then I just basically gave them the law and the gospel, by way of the Romans Road. I have no idea if anything got through to them, but I suppose that's why I leave God to do the work. I can only pray that they will repent and believe, just like I'd pray for anyone else who's ever heard the gospel.

Our time was over by 9:45 and the men all went back to their cells while Vern, Mario and I hoofed it back to WSP to make it to church before the service started. I came into the service completely unprepared - nothing ready for announcements, and I totally forgot to tell the worship team about my absence from rehearsal. But everything went smoothly, which was nice.

By the time I got home from lunch, I could barely keep my eyes open. I hadn't fully recovered from the lack of sleep and energy expended at camp, and I was coming off a totally new experience of preaching at the jail. I was wiped. By 2:00 I was dead to the world on our living room couch. Two hours later I awoke, having slept more soundly than I had even the previous night.

And now I'm writing this post, having completed a couple hours of homework that is due this week. It was a busy and fun weekend, but I'm not sure I could do it all the time. Oh well. It was worth it.

That's Funny, Dad.

A few days ago Ferg, the Hanburger, and I were playing out in the yard. Han got up on the swing set, and Ferg tried to follow by going up the slide. He fell down half way up and slid back down, which Han thought was hilarious. She started cracking up, so I went and got the camera.

Halfway through she notices that I'm holding a camera and says, "Cheese," as though I were taking a picture. I guess she hasn't wrapped her mind around video yet.

Cherry Tomatoes? No Thanks.

Our whole family went to a wedding and reception tonight. Betsy's second cousin was married, and the reception followed at a golf club in Cottage Grove. We got to the reception at 5:00 PM and weren't served our meal until about 7:35. It was tough to be there with the kids. The meal was served in courses: bread, salad, and then main course. When our salads came out, the kids weren't given one, so they just picked off stuff from the adults' salads. After we had finished the salads, I noticed that Ferg had picked around a cherry tomato and avoided eating it. Not thinking that he had ever had a cherry tomato before, I encouraged him to try it. He's usually pretty good about trying new foods. He'll try pretty much anything at least once. Well, let's just say that he's not a fan (neither am I, for that matter - like father like son, I guess). Mom was quick with the camera and caught the following progression.

1. Ferg takes a bite.

2. Initial reaction.

3. Down the hatch, even though he didn't like it. What a trooper.

4. Time to wash out the taste with a little Sprite.