Sparrows

We are facing difficult times at work, and as a lead negotiator, I'm in the thick of it. We had three days of intense negotiations this weekend, and tonight we shared with the rest of our colleagues the shockingly regressive proposal we received from our management over the weekend. In essence, with cuts in salary, weeks and increases in health care costs, the cuts would equate to nearly 25% of our income.

I find myself at peace, and I realize that this is solely the result of the grace of God, and as a result of the journey I've been on the past few years. I used to be a constant worrier, but now, thanks to God, I am learning to trust more in Him. It doesn't matter if my income is lowered: it's all for my betterment. If I lose 25% of my income, God cares more for me than the sparrows. He will provide, and as Paul says, "I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." The truth of the matter is that the board, and our management, honestly has little control over my life. God oversees all!

When I arrived home from the meeting, I found myself smiling as I walked into my house, thinking that nothing that management can do can truly impact my life in a negative way. If their regressive proposal causes financial hardship, well, that will be a gift from God. So be it. I'm in His hands, and I thank God for the perpetual desire on His part to cause us to turn towards Him, and how hardships are often used as the tools through which we realize our need for Him. We're all in His hands, thanks be to God. I feel a strange sense of joy, since in these difficult times ahead, there's nothing to do but to take each day as it comes, and trust in Him. That's a good place to be, and exactly where I believe He wants us to be.

The Star of Bethlehem

OK...if you're a Netflix user, you should put something into your queue right away. I just finished watching something that I approached rather skeptically, as is my wont, but now I'm blown away. I mean, really blown away.

You should put this in your queue.

A lawyer decided to decipher all he could about the Star of Bethlehem, and concludes, convincingly so, that from the very foundations of the universe, God knew when He would redeem mankind, the exact moment when His Son would enter earth as a man, and the exact moment when He would die, for all of it was written in the skies. The lawyer calls it celestial poetry, and it's goose bump producing stuff that he uncovers.

When Will These Sorts of Posts Be Done?

As I reflect on the beginning of a new year, and think about the events of the past year, one thought in particular comes to mind. 2008 was chiefly by the loss of Meg in my life. As a rational man, trying to look at my own life as dispassionately as possible, I can't quite understand why this has impacted me so profoundly, or how it still reverberates through my life. It is strange to me, and abnormal to be so shackled by a past relationship. I have often cried out to God to release me from the fetters of my love for Meg yet I still feel her void in my life each day.

I still love her, as much as ever. The start of each day is marked by thoughts of her, and the day ends in the same manner, yet I wish it were not so. I pray for her when I think of her, thus these thoughts are not in vain, and good comes out of the constant reminder that she isn't in my life.

Dating Meg now feels to me like a shadow of something that happened to someone else, a dream of a relationship with a woman who has become more apparition than the flesh and blood woman I once held in my arms. The lack of her is no chimera however--it is the most palpable aspect of my life. I feel that I am missing an essential part of me. In the two years since we dated, it has become clear to me that her heart was inexorably woven into my own, bound to my own as if with sinews, so much so that the cleaving of her heart from mine causes me to feel as if I suffer from the phantom loss of a limb. She was entwined with my life, and I walk with a limp now, it seems, and I know that my memory of her will always be more of the ache of her loss than it will be the joy of having been with her. I don't understand why this is so. It doesn't feel normal, but so it goes with love and life and one's heart. We can never predict the matters of the heart, and I find myself at the mercy of my heart's feelings, even though my mind and brain wish to be free of her.

I go through life with smiles, and laughter, but the phantom loss of her is ever present in my mind. An evening spent with friends, I wish she were by my side. In all of my chocolate making, I know how much she would have enjoyed experiencing every part of the process. In concerts where I am proud of my playing, I wish she were there, as she once was. When I go home to visit my family, I long for her to be there, by my side. And even in the quiet moments of life, in the most mundane of tasks, I wish that she could be there with me, even in the most banal of errands. It would be a sign that she was a part of my life, completely and fully. I wish she was my wife. One would think that two years is long enough, but clearly not for me. I hope and pray that this year will mark freedom from the shackles that still seem to bind me, but they are shackles that are kept there because of love, unrequited though it may be. I have prayed that God would allow me to move on from Meg, in His time, and since my heart still pines for her, it seems that it is apportioned for me to still love her. And so I pray for her, and for her happiness, and for her soul.

I do not want to ever stop loving her, but I would like it if there was room for another woman to enter this heart of mine. Perhaps 2009 will be the year. God's will be done.

I suppose one advantage to insomnia (or perhaps the only advantage) is that you have plenty of time to think. That's a curse and a blessing. The whirling away of my brain that began as soon as I turned off the light at midnight turned into a blessing.

I feel like I had an epiphany tonight about God's love for us. I was thinking about Meg, and wishing that there was some way that I could relate to her and communicate the love that God has for her. (I think it's often easier to desire things of that nature for other people as opposed to ourselves). As I reflected on the concept of God's love, I envisioned Christ's sacrifice on the Cross for us. And suddenly it hit me: I've always viewed the Cross completely wrong. Tonight it seemed like the verse that we all know by heart, John 3:16, came to life for me, surprisingly in my thinking about Meg. The thought came to me that I'd do anything to know that Meg could know the love of God. And that thought brought the love of God for me to life in new ways.

Since I'm not a father, it's hard to know what it must be like to have such love for your child that you would do anything for them, so the impact of imagining what Our Father's love for us must be like doesn't resonate with me as strongly as does my love for Meg. Tonight I realized that I've always viewed Christ's death and sacrifice on the Cross as something that "just had to be done," as if Christ was duty bound to die for us, and God the Father was duty bound to offer his only begotten Son on our behalf because it was what the rules required. Sure, it was motivated by love, but it was really done regretfully, to fix the screw up that Adam arranged for all of us. Basically I think I've just seen the situation as one where God's been batting clean up ever since with a constant tsk, tsk and a roll of the eyes.

Tonight, a glimmer of God's overwhelming love wedged it's way into my thinking. I realize that I have absolutely no concept of how much God loves me. None. I know rationally that He does, I accept the truth that He does, and indeed I see evidence of His love in my friends, family and life but it all feels rather intellectual. The magnitude of His love for me, a love that exists as more than an academic reality, is something I don't believe I have ever come remotely close to grasping. Tonight, I saw clearly that God WANTED to offer His Son on behalf of us, because of His love. I know it's something I should have learned back in Vacation Bible School, but apparently it didn't stick. Here's what I saw tonight: He offered Himself up for me because He delights in me, and everyone else who's ever walked the face of the planet. His love for one person is more immense than the purest love of all of humanity. And here's the most remarkable part for me: it's not a love that's motivated out of obligation from the Maker to the made, but rather it's motivated out of love that stems from a God who genuinely LIKES us.

I guess tonight was a good night not to sleep, since I began to see a glimmer of the fact that indeed God happens to like me.

And really, that's more profound than knowing He loves me.

38

Yesterday was a fun birthday. Paul and Alison had a little informal shindig at their place, along with Dave and Torey, as well as Dave's sister Allison and her boyfriend Dax. We had some pizza, drank plenty of Oberon, ate some chocolate mint explosion cookies and had a great time playing with the Wi Nintendo system.

I had to interrupt the festivities to play an easy gig, then headed over to Dave and Torey's for a game of Quiddler and sharing a couple of bottles of wine. All told a great birthday, and I'm very grateful for having such great friends!

Here's an interesting story about answered prayer that happened on my birthday. Saturday night I was doing a bit of reading, and read from a letter C. S. Lewis wrote to Sheldon Van Auken on the heels of the latter's conversion. Lewis wrote to Van Auken saying, "My prayers are answered...Blessings on you and a hundred thousand welcomes."

As I read that passage, I thought to myself how I long to be able to say that some day to Meg: "My prayers are answered! Blessings on you and a hundred thousand welcomes!" I have prayed fervently for Meg's salvation, and have learned to offer up my loneliness on behalf of that, and I thank God for the opportunity to do so. But I long with all my heart to be able to say those same words of Lewis, and to say them soon. I have no contact with her, and so I know nothing of her. All I have is the faith and belief that my prayers must in some ways be profitable. We see so little though, and as the words of Paul that Sherry C. has on her blog say, "for now we see as through a glass, dimly." Saturday I found myself with a renewed longing that the day when I can say those words to Meg may come, and come quickly, and in that heightened yearning, I fervently prayed to God, asking for some small sign of encouragement that my prayers were being used by Him.

At my birthday shindig on Sunday, both Ren and Eden created some cards for me that are some of the most precious gifts I've received on any birthday, and I do not say that lightly. Alison had a Gwen Frostic note with a cardinal on it which she gave to Eden to draw a picture on for me. When she was done, Alison saw that there were two people, and she asked Eden who they were. Eden replied by saying, "It's Mr. Dan and a girl."

Alison then asked Eden what she wanted to write in the card for me.

Without missing a beat, Eden said, "Miracles and dreams come true."

If there is anything I've become convinced of in the past year, it is the fact that there are no coincidences. I have come to believe that God is active even in the smallest details of our lives. There was a time in my life when I believed that people who tried to find God's fingerprint in the most seemingly mundane events of life were pathetically superstitious and a little off their rockers. But now I think otherwise. I didn't share this with Alison, but it's a bit mind boggling that the card was a Gwen Frostic card. If God knows the number of the hairs on our heads, certainly He knows why a certain card was chosen. Gwen Frostic is not without meaning in my relationship with Meg. In light of my belief in a God who is very directly involved in our lives, even in things that seem mundane, the Gwen Frostic card, coupled with the picture of a girl with me, and Eden's unprompted declaration that "miracles and dreams come true," tells me that Alison's daughter sent a message of encouragement to me, straight from the mouth of God, in direct answer to my prayer the night before. I believe that my prayers for Meg's salvation will be answered, and that's exciting to me!

Separate from Eden, Ren also drew a picture for me for my birthday. There were two people on her card as well. Torey asked Ren who they were.

Ren said, "Mr. Dan and his wife."

I'll take that one to the bank. I'll take both of them to the bank! I believe that Meg will become a believer (hmm...I'm filled with a rush of excitement at the thought, more than I've felt before--at this moment, it feels to me as an epiphany, that it's a foregone conclusion--I believe that the Hound of Heaven must be doggedly pursuing her, in love...and may it be so!) The other card, from Ren is an encouragement in another way. I'd like to think and hope that in my 38th year, perhaps this will be the year where I find my wife. If that's the case, it will be with a great sense of honor that I will introduce her to sweet little Ren.

Scott, it would appear that the water's just fine.

For I know the plans I have for you...

Today was an important day for me. Not because of any particular event that took place in my life, but rather because there was a creeping awareness that came over me, an awareness as to the direction my life is supposed to take. I have struggled greatly with the question as to why I'm still single, when I am so anxious to be married. As I contemplated this today, walking on Calvin College's campus, it dawned on me that I was still single for a very good reason: I am of more use to the Kingdom of God as a single man than I am as a married one. I think this is especially true because of the fact that the deepest desire of my heart is to be married. There is a keen, underlying awareness of being alone that weaves its way constantly through my thinking and my life. I think it is that very desire, and the accompanying dull loneliness that I generally feel that makes me useful to God. I have come to a point where I truly believe that my daily cross to bear is that of being a man longing for the companionship of a wife, and specifically, I have been called to carry that cross for Meg.

As I walked, I thought about the gifts God has given me. I wondered why I had been granted certain skills, and what I was supposed to do with them. At that moment, the spark of desire began to burn within me to write a book. I feel as if there is a book that God is calling me to write, on a subject that I am intimately acquainted with, and that is at the center of my story. I feel as well that I must be single to write this book, and that indeed I will need to give birth to this book before it's ever conceivable that I will be married. As I see this book, it's absolutely vital that I pen it's pages as a single man, one who was rejected by the woman he loved, and who is longing and yearning with every fiber of his being to find a soul mate. I do not find it an accident now that every woman I have asked out since Meg has refused me. Today, I came to the undeniable conclusion that I have been single for 20 years because it was God's will for my life, and that he has a purpose for me, a very clear purpose: I must write this book. It may never be published, but I am committed to following through on what I feel God is asking me to do. I don't think there's a book quite like it, and I feel that if it were published, it would provide some usefulness.

I saw that book in its entirety this morning. It's now my job to give it birth. And in the meantime, I'm not going to think about finding anyone to date. No one will until I write this book--I'm convinced of it. And surprisingly, I found tremendous freedom in that realization. I didn't spend the rest of the day wondering if my wife would be found around the next bend. I've got a job to do. There will be plenty of time for a wife and family, but now it's time to get to work.

I tell you this: right now, I am sobered. I believe I have seen a glimpse at God's plan for my life, and I am humbled into silence.

A Story of God's Grace

This is a story about a trip to Texas, a computer, a printer, a recital a priest, an overdone steak and a flat screen TV.  It's a story about a bottle of wine, a brother, the sound of children sleeping, a dog named Pearl and a guy named Chad.  This is a story about God's boundless love and grace given in a time of need.

My story begins on Saturday when I bought a new printer.  Ostensibly Macs are "plug and play," but I couldn't get the printer to work.  It was frustrating to say the least, but little did I know that my frustration would be part of the puzzle of God's plan for my life for this past weekend, one of many pieces in a puzzle that fell into place in such a way that I would become keenly aware of God's love for me and that I am never outside of his watchful gaze.

The priest is of course my brother, who called me on Friday with a request to use my Costco membership to help get one of the best deals on the planet for a 50" plasma flat screen TV.  He sent me a link through email, but I didn't have time to order it.  He had hoped that I would order it online, and have it shipped to his house, which I would have been happy to do.  Some questions arose about taking advantage of the additional $150 rebate deal, and if I could do it in his name, so it was decided that I would go to Costco to ask in person on Saturday.  We were hoping to avoid him coming the hour and a half to my hosue.  Meanwhile, I received a text message from Steve, telling me to wait before proceeding further, since he needed to pray about the TV more.  It was a big purchase, and he wanted to make sure that God approved.  Eventually that was resolved, and Steve felt that his house could be a comfortable haven for fellow priests, friends and family.  He felt that it had God's seal of approval.  Little did he or I know how fundamentally important that TV would be for both of us, and that indeed, his purchase of that TV was ordained by God.

When I went to Costco, I found out that if the TV were to be purchased at the store, and if at the same time a contract with DirectTV was established, it would be even more of a savings.  The monkey wrench in the plans was this:  whoever would be using the DirectTV programming needed to be the one present in the store.  I called Steve back, thinking for sure that he would not be able to come, but since his Sunday afternoon and evening were free, we agreed to meet in the late afternoon.

He had commitments in the early afternoon, and I had a recital to play at.  We had planned to meet at 4:45, but the recital I played at started late, and Steve's hospice visitations went long as well.  Our time at Costco was further delayed by crossed paths, Steve filling up a gas station since he thought I would be later than I was, me heading in before him.  All in all, we were late in our schedule, and I was feeling the pressure of time, since I needed to pack for a trip to Texas that I'm on right now with my brass quintet.  It seemed that things were conspiring to make the evening last longer than it should, but we now know that was orchestrated by God.

At Costco, we discovered that the TV was too large to fit in Steve's car.  We decided that the best option was for him to order the TV online and have it shipped to his house.  I didn't see any reason why he needed to do it right away--he could certainly have waited until he got home that evening.  There was no reason for him to come to my house, but since I had already mentioned the printer debacle, and since he's a Mac devotee, he offered to come home and assist me, since I needed to print some things off for my tour.  It is important to realize that I have functioned without a usable printer for well over year--I realize now that it was no accident that I decided to purchase a printer on Saturday.  It was all ordained by God.

After we made the decision about Costco, we headed to Logan's, my favorite steak joint.  We both ordered medium rare, and Steve's steak came back like a hockey puck.  It took forever for our waitress to return for him to ask for a new one, and then quite a long time for the new steak to come back.  Meanwhile, I was feeling the time crunch even more because of my upcoming trip, and the fact that I hadn't packed at all.  It was getting late, but I was enjoying dinner with my brother and I decided that I would be packed when I was packed and just enjoyed the evening.

We finally headed home, much later than I had planned or anticipated.  My goal had been to be on the road to my brother Jim's house by 8:30 or so, and we arrived at my house at around 7:30, two and a half hours after we had met at Costco.  What we did there didn't need to take that long, but it did, and what we both realize now is that Steve was supposed to be at my house at 7:39 last night.

It was at that time that I received a text message on my phone.  There are very few people who text me, and I assumed it was someone from work.  Steve was busy ordering the TV, and I grabbed my phone to see what message had been left for me.  

This is what the message said:

"dis (sic) is Megan...I LOVE CHAD!"

Whoa.

Yikes.

Ouch.

Where did that come from?

I felt like I had been stabbed in the gut.  My body suddenly became hot, I felt pressure in my chest and I was instantly filled with gut wrenching pain.  I was confused and baffled and reeling from such an unexpected incursion into my life.  I tossed the phone to Steve, and asked him to read it.  He was stunned as well.

It felt like a red hot poker being thrust into my heart.  I told Steve that I knew in fact that it wasn't Megan--it wasn't her phone number, and the Megan I know would never do such a thing.  I could only imagine that this guy Chad, presumably the boyfriend of Megan, had somehow, in some bizarre chain of events, found my phone number on Meg's cellphone and decided to do something to the man who used to date his girlfriend.  Steve described it as being perverse and cruel and it was--it hurt like hell.

It didn't take too long for it to dawn on us that all of the events leading up to this moment were brought together because God loves me.  He knew that this moment would be terribly painful for me, and that I wouldn't have the grace to deal with it on my own.  There, in my room sat my brother who hasn't been in my house in four or five months, in my house, with me, at the very moment that this painful text message came into my house.

I was reeling with the shock of it, talking it through with Steve, and soon our talk turned towards suffering.  I have learned about suffering in this year and a half, and especially these past six months, and this is part of my continuing eduction.  As my brother said to me, suffering is an invitation to enter into the suffering of the cross.  I am a better man for Meg's rejection of me.  I have reached a point where I view my loneliness, and the pain of her rejection as gifts from God that allow me to offer all of that up on behalf of Megan.  As I sat there with Steve by my side, what I saw in the midst of the pain of that unwanted text message was an opportunity to enter deeper into service of Meg, to work towards what I care more about than anything in the world:  that Meg would know God's grace and love for her, and that she would be redeemed.  I could honestly say that the pain of that text message from this guy Chad was a severe mercy to me.  I am beginning to feel like Paul, that I can consider it a joy to be able to suffer on behalf of Meg.

In moments of grace, in those clear moments where I have come to firmly believe that any pain I feel of rejection or loneliness can be offered up on behalf of Meg, I have found myself praying, asking God to heap pain and loneliness on me.  I love Meg so, so much, and I want to be the kind of man that would be willing to suffer whatever pain it takes to bring her to Christ.  Yesterday, in a very harsh and bitter way, God answered that prayer.  But what I am left with, in the very heart of that tremendous pain, is a keen awareness of how much God truly loves me.  My brother was there.  My brother was THERE, by my side, in that moment of extreme pain, pain that I'm still feeling today.  My brother was there to come alongside me, to encourage me to choose the path of love, to choose to enter into the suffering, and to embrace it and to offer it up on behalf of Megan.  As he said so clearly, the path of suffering is a choice:  we either choose bitterness or we choose to love.  He was there to help encourage me to choose the latter.

That is my prayer, and I'd ask that those of you who read this would pray that I am courageous enough to choose that path.  Megan is so worthy of a love that would offer up everything to find for her salvation and peace, and I am beginning to feel that offering up all of my hopes and dreams for companionship on behalf of Megan is my vocation right now.  Salvation is a costly thing, and a life spent on behalf of someone's salvation is a life well lived.

In one of my moments of anguish over Meg's rejection of me, I asked God to reveal to me why he hadn't brought me to my wife instead of to Meg.  The answer was quick and clear.  God said to me, "I did this so that you would pray for Meg."  In that moment I wondered if all of those years of singleness, of yearning for that one with whom I would share my life were there to bring me to a relationship with Meg.  Someone who isn't a believer I think would find this all a bit melodramatic, but I think this is how God works.  His ways are not our ways!  I truly believe that my calling right now in life is to pray and suffer on behalf of Meg.  I tell you, my brothers and sisters, I gladly embrace that calling, and pray for me that I can be faithful to it!

I fear I will be lonely a long time, but I am more convinced of this than ever:  every moment of walking into my empty house, or seeing happily married couples, or attending a wedding, or pining simply to have someone to have dinner with--those are all moments I will live through on behalf of Megan.

Little did Chad know that his biting and perverse text message to me was a gift, a cruel thing transformed by the boundless grace of God into a tool more powerful than he can imagine on behalf of the one he purports to love.  It was a eucatastrophe, and all I can say is praise be to God!

Steve and I said our farewells, with many a hug, both of us floored by God's involvement in our lives yesterday.  I was still in pain, but what I will remember more than anything is God's orchestration of our lives that day, and that in his mercy he ordained my brother to be there.  As Steve left, we declared this TV to clearly have God's seal of approval, and blessing, and I look forward even more now to watching this TV!   

I had a lot of packing to do, and I contemplated the day and the text message, baffled and confused at the turn of events that led to the text message being sent.  It's a ripple from a life that is no longer shared with mine, an echo of the woman I love still.  I don't understand what motivated the message, but now I know that it was used by God, and for that I'm thankful.

I looked forward to getting out of the house however, and heading to my brother Jim's place.  He was taking me to the airport this morning, and I looked forward to sleeping under his roof.  I arrived after midnight, and he and his two oldest sons were up.  He had cracked open a bottle of wine and we talked into the wee hours of the morning, talking about the text message, about suffering, about God's will for our lives, and how God transforms things meant for evil into good.  We went to bed far too late, but it was good for my soul to have time like that with another brother.  

I brushed my teeth, and then went upstairs to my nephews' room where I always spend the night.  All three of them were fast asleep, and on my bed lay Pearl, their family's beloved golden retriever.  The ceiling fan was whirring gently in the background, and as I pulled back the covers, Pearl lifted her head and wagged her tail in greeting.  I pushed her over and found the bed warm where she had been lying and gladly snuggled in.  As I listened quietly, I heard the soft regular breathing of my nephew Zach, the occasional cough of little John, and a random snore or two from Josh.  I reached down and patted Pearl who inched ever so slightly forward to meet my hand and I quietly thanked God for my family, and for his grace and love.  I lay awake for a long time, listening to the comforting sounds of my nephews and finally drifted off to sleep.

I can't leave well enough alone.

My mind was a-cogitatin' during the Nutcracker performance tonight and I decided to whip up a couple more ganaches tonight when I got home. What got me all fired up was thinking about creating a truffle with milk chocolate, imbued with Irish cream. I was contemplating rolling it in ground up chocolate covered coffee beans. That's an itch that just needed to be scratched, so can you blame me for chopping up some chocolate and getting to work again when I got home? Here's the kicker...I couldn't find a recipe that uses alcohol with milk chocolate so I sort of had to wing it. I'm going to write what I did, in case it works and I want to create it again. And if it doesn't work out, well, then I'll know to avoid it. The recipe I started with called for 8 oz. of chocolate and 1/2 cup, plus two tablespoons, of heavy cream. I wanted to make sure that the ganache was thick enough to roll or cut into squares, and since I wanted to double the amounts, I went with one cup of cream, two tablespoons of butter, a couple of teaspoons of vanilla and three tbsp of Irish Cream. Let me tell you, it's TASTY!!! We'll see what it looks like in the morning. If it's too runny I'm thinking it could really be a great filling for molded chocolates, which I haven't tried my hand at just yet.

I haven't broken out the dark chocolate yet either, so I whipped up a raspberry ganache using some really good Belgian dark chocolate. The recipe I used suggested steeping some raspberry or black currant tea with the cream while it heated, so I looked in the pantry and fortunately found some raspberry tea. It should add a nice complexity to the raspberry flavor which is heightened by adding some Chambord raspberry liqueur. That's the essence of raspberry and it's one of my favorite liqueurs. I'll always have that in my pantry. I was tempted to add some black pepper, believe it or not, but decided to hold off on that. I think that would have been a nice background note. As to the source of my recipe, I used Sherry Yards's recipe. She's one of my favorite pastry chefs and is the guru at Wolfgang Puck's restaurants. She really knows what she's doing and anything I've ever made from her book is absolutely top shelf. I highly recommend her book The Secrets of Baking.

I made another gelee earlier today as well. This one used sour cherries from Traverse City. I'm a little underwhelmed by these gelees. I need to do more research on them because none of them are really working out the way I want them to. They all are a bit droopy, for lack of a better word. They don't hold together like I want them to do, but I suspect that's because they're not laden with all kinds of chemicals. I think these are the types of things that you serve ala minute, putting them out with the hopes that your guests will eat them within minutes of serving. Regardless, I made the cherry gelees today and even if I never give them away I've just got to tell you how amazingly tasty they turned out. I've decied this: All God ever had to do was to make a cherry and I'd dedicate my life to him. The creative brilliance behind such a remarkable fruit makes me stand in awe. Sour cherries are so damn tasty that I'll get down on bended knee and thank the good Lord for giving them to us. The complexity of flavors in cherries really boggles my mind. And aren't you glad that cherries are red and not not brown? If anyone wants to know, incidentally, I eat to give praise to God. I'm going to go with this: eating is an act of worship. (Sounds like a keeper of a philosophy, don't you think?) So let me publicly say it: thank God for cherries! My life is decidedly richer and more complete because of a perfect little red fruit.

While mulling around in the kitchen, I was thinking about the anticipation I was feeling the other night on the eve of starting my chocolate marathon. It caused me to think back on moments in my childhood on the eve of vacation, or on Christmas Eve. My niece Betsy came to mind as well. Last Christmas, several of us went in together to buy her an awesome play kitchen that she wished for with all her little heart. That Christmas there wasn’t a happier girl in America than my niece. When no one else was around, she went up to her mom and said, “Mom, I’m so excited, I can’t get all my excited’s out!” I think God is pleased when we’re excited by good things, when we can’t sleep because we’re so excited at the prospect of an adventure or a fun endeavor. There is something good and wholesome about being so passionate about something that we can’t sleep. Making chocolates and candies feeds a desire to be creative within me, and I believe that desire stems from God. Anytime we use our creative skills we model ourselves after God, don’t you think? And when I think of Betsy not being able to get all of her excited’s out, I think about the fact that we are made in God’s image. Don’t you think that sometimes God is so excited that he can’t get all of his excited’s out? I think back on when God told me to just trust me—in my mind he appeared as excited at the prospect of me trusting him as my niece felt about that kitchen.

A few year's ago, there would have been a part of me that would have been a bit embarrassed to admit that I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking about chocolates, but thank God I’ve reached a point where I’m willing to celebrate that instead of be embarrassed by it. I think not being able to sleep before an exciting day is something that we have because we're made in God's image. I've just got to believe that God was thrilled and filled with excitement when he created the cherry! Imagine him saying to the angels, “check this out boys…go ahead and have a sample of my handiwork, and tell me what you think.” I’m thinking they gave him two thumbs up and that they echoed their God and said, “it’s good!” My satisfaction in making a tasty little treat is a mirror of that, but can you imagine conjuring up a cherry where none existed before? That just blows my mind.

For me, all I really need to believe in God is a cherry.

I gotta just tell you, my heart is filled with a lot of joy right now, and a lot of love for my Maker. I'm glad he called me to him, and my heart is filled with joy that can only come from him. And all of that because of chocolate and cherries.

Jane Austen

Of late, I've been dealing with matters of the heart and it makes me wish that I was in the pages of a Jane Austen novel. If I was, unfortunately I suspect I'm not yet approaching the final pages, though I feel that the story potentially could turn into a real page burner.

Here's the rub: There's no turning to the end to see what happens. I'm in the middle of the story, and I fret because I worry about what's next. As I sit and contemplate my life, and what the next chapter holds, I have been faced with the fact that I'm not very good at trusting God. Ultimately though, in the face of uncertainty and anxiety about the future, I realize that's the only thing I have left. On a trip to the U.P. last week, my brother urged me to think about this: peace is from God, all the rest isn't. He challenged me to continually take any angst I feel to God and cling to peace. It's something that I realize I need practice at, but even so, I have felt the beginnings of peace about this situation (which I will expound upon more at length later). My brother urged me to also listen, not just pray, and as I sat in my backyard today, trying to listen, this image of a Jane Austen novel came to mind. In my very less than perfect way, I offered to entrust my future to God, acknowledging that I needed help even doing that. What came to mind was the image of God, zealously inviting me to trust in him, to allow him the freedom to write each page as he saw fit. It was an invitation given with the intensity of a race horse at the starting gate, itching to run free, and I felt that these were his words to me:

"I can't wait to show you the ending. You're gonna love it."

As I sit here in the middle pages, I don't know if this story will end the way I wish it will, but it seems to me that if the author of the universe is penning the story, well, I think the ending's in good hands. May I feel so strongly as this if the end of the chapter I'm in now doesn't turn out the way I hope.

Not to get all spiritual, but...

I had an epiphany of sorts tonight. I've been thinking about a lot of life issues of late, and thinking about my hopes and dreams and the like. I was letting the mind run through all kinds of possibilities tonight, as I have been doing similarly in the past few weeks. In one of those moments of disquiet a few days ago, I threw up my metaphorical hands in the air, and uttered the only words I knew to say that could counter all of the angst I was feeling: Thy will be done.

I've always viewed those words as something we're supposed to say, that we're supposed to reach an elevated plane where that is the mantra that we use to represent our truest devotion to God. To say those words shows that we are truly obedient to the will of God. Tonight, as I found myself realizing that once again these were the only words I was left with, I realized that perhaps the most important aspect about those four little words is that within them can be found peace.

Late night musings on Theology

I sometimes dwell on who I believe myself to be. The current question: Am I first and foremost a Christian or am I first and foremost a man?

I've begun to think that who I am primarily is a man, and that being a Christian is secondary, in a categorial way. My Christianity informs my humanity, not the other way around.

I've got a heck of a lot in common with my fellow man, and I want to keep it that way.

It may not make much sense, but of late, I've begun to feel a tremendous desire for fraternity with those in the world around me, for living life unfiltered, as a fellow traveler in this crazy world, though a traveler who happens to be a believer in Jesus Christ.

For some reason, I find tremendous relief in this.

I'm just a man, not someone who has the answers for the rest of the world.

What the Bleep Do We Know?

I watched a fascinating movie this weekend, recommended to me by several friends. What the Bleep Do We Know? is all about harnessing the power of your thoughts. It's got a lot of New Age hogwash, (there is no good, there is no bad...welcome to the kingdom of heaven--it's inside of you...we all are god), but if you sift through all of this hokum, there's a lot of truth to be learned. Truth that has been proclaimed by Scriptures long ago: as a man thinketh, so he is, as well as the need for taking captive your thoughts.

There is new scientific research on how the brain works that is quite compelling. Conventional wisdom used to be that our brains remained fairly unchanged from childhood throughout the rest of our lives, with the conclusion that you essentially can't teach an old dog new tricks. This is far from the truth. Our brain is constantly rewiring itself, as a result of our thoughts, actions and environment.

The film discussed how certain emotions can be hardwired to be associated with other outside stimuli. The most powerful example of this is that our brain has the capacity to associate the feeling of love with all kinds of things, both good and bad. To the researchers in the film who have studied brain chemistry extensively, this can explain in part why some people continually make bad choices with regards to relationships. Over time, their brain has rewired itself to associate love with negative feelings, and for some bizarre reason, our brains become addicted to these feelings and the chemical responses that a bad relationship can trigger.

The flipside of this is true as well. If our brains have been wired through repeated behaviors throughout our life, then it's possible to retrain and "rewire" our brains in other directions, towards positive outcomes. They speak of the "power of intention," which is a New Agey term that's in vogue these days, from people like Wayne Dyer and the like, but I do believe that at it's core is truth that believers can grab a hold of too.

The filmmakers talk a lot about quantum physics, to the point of relegating the "quantum field" almost to a point of deification. Essentially, quantum physics speaks of the reality in the physical world of infinite possibilities, that there is a theoretical possibility (outlined by Einstein) of "parallel universes" and the like, all stuff that sounds very hocus pocus. They point to the example of certain particles that when not being observed, are a wave, while when they are observed, are actual a fixed point. The physical state of these particles actually changes simply by the fact that they are observed. Heady stuff that only Einstein could dream up, but it is accepted as fact as much as gravity is.

The filmmakers talked with many people who have turned this idea of "infinite possibilities" into a philosophy of life, where our lives are for us to shape, with the power of our thoughts. Our lives are like that particle: when we observe it, we change it. When we think something, we create it, as if we're on some big, cosmic holodeck. Now this is where it gets loopy, and very New Agey. This is the hogwash that needs sifting out.

But in with the hogwash, there is a lot of truth that I'm still thinking about and trying to process. The world around us is shaped by our thoughts, not in some cosmic telekinetic way, but I do believe that our thoughts have power to shape us, which does impact our relationship with the world and those around us. My future is dramatically effected by my thoughts. I don't "create" my own reality, as one of the filmmakers says, but I can shape what happens in my life through how I think.

I have seen this in my own life, when I have set myself on a path to fulfill certain goals, and have given everything I had to bring them about. In high school, I set a goal to become a professional musician, and in the back of my mind, I hoped to teach at my alma mater when my professor retired. This was the path that I set out for myself, and both things have happened.

In my life, that is the one goal that I have worked at the most, the one goal that I told myself that I would give everything I had towards the effort. It happened, I think, through a combination of my hard work, and most importantly, the grace of God. I think the fulfillment of that dream was a combined effort between God and me (though I would readily admit that all good things we are able to do are an extension of the grace of God--it's that whole paradox of free will and grace, applied to a non-spiritual part of my life. It's also that debate about God giving us the desires of our heart: does he grant us our desires, or does he create the desires within us that will please him, or is it a mystical combination of the two? Which came first? I think God delights in our individuality, much as parents delight in seeing the individuality of their children--even though God is omniscient, I wonder if he delights in seeing us develop into the people that we are becoming, and then, as a loving Father, grants us bread instead of stone. I don't have answers to these questions.)

This all brings me to the question of how to jibe this with the teaching of Scripture, and the will of God. I guess I'm right now asking more questions than anything, but this movie is one point in a continuum where I have really begun asking the questions about how our thoughts impact our lives, and I want to make sure that it fits in with the will of God.

Here's the exciting part for me. What these people don't take into account is the power of the Holy Spirit. I mean, what these people are saying about the scientific reality of the human brain is true: our body has the power to rewire the neural nets of our brain, neural nets that impact our behavior. When you consider the phrase "be transformed by the renewing of your mind," and you mix in a dash of the Holy Spirit, you've got some exciting possibilities before you.

"Take every thought captive to Christ." Amen, brother!

What is it that holds us back? What thoughts have ruled our lives? Is it one where I'm destined to think I'm always going to be rotund? Is it one that thinks I've gone as far as I will in my career? Is it one where I doubt I'll ever find the love of my life? Is it one that fears the possibilities of pursuing my dreams? I believe that the doubts I have about these issues in my life directly impact my ability to achieve them, and are the primary obstacles in the way of achieving those goals. And I think this is as true as gravity.

These filmmakers talk about "creating my own reality." Well, if I had a choice, I'd let the creator of the world create my own reality, thank you very much. I think I could trust him a bit more than me (at least I'm trying to get there). The message for me from this film is that I must always combat negative thoughts, and replace them with thoughts that are uplifting.

"Finally brothers, whatever things are true, whatever things are honest, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report; if there is any virtue, and if there is any praise, think on these things."

I believe that we should follow our dreams, with every fiber of our being, with the belief that God is with us. I don't say this in an ignorant or naive manner, as if the fact of our relationship with God is a magic pill to help us get what we want. But if we are pursuing goals that we believe are God-given, and that are pure and fit in with the categories laid about by Paul in the passage above, then I say pursue it with everything you've got, with the wind behind your sails and a belief that God will walk with you, and open doors for you that could only be explained by his intervention.

One man in the film begins each day, with the goal of "creating his day," and he speaks some mumbo jumbo to the "quantum field," asking that he be shown signs of how his thoughts have shaped the world around him throughout the day. We don't need no stinking quantum field: we have the Creator of the Universe watching our back. What I desire to do, is to wake each day, and ask for the strength to combat the negative thoughts and lies that I hear all the time, to replace them with thoughts that are encouraging and uplifting, with the belief that I can and will achieve the goals I've set out for myself, with the assistance of God.

Admittedly, our relationship with God isn't all about "achieving our goals." But it is certainly about finding freedom from the lies we tell ourselves. And once those lies are removed from the databank, and we are in the center of God's will, the possibilities are limitless.

Sometimes I believe that I have a fear of success, or a built in caution against success, which stems from an overwrought sense of what it means to "submit to the will of God." We're supposed to walk humbly before our God, and all that, so maybe I shouldn't dream about "making it big" in the music world, or becoming a successful food writer, or becoming known as the best bread baker in five counties. That, I am convinced, is a huge lie that needs to be expunged from my life.

We are made for work. It is good for man to get his hands dirty, and to feel the sweat of his brow. God is glorified when we work! The parable of the talents comes to mind: What will I do with the gifts I've been given? Will I nurture them, develop them and do great things with them, or will I be content to sit by and wile away the hours of my life, hoping for what "might have been?" Will I embrace the goals, dreams and aspirations that thrill me, with the belief that God blesses these desires and wants to see me succeed in them?

I'm going to choose the latter, starting today.

I'm very curious what your thoughts are.

TMI?

Do you ever have those moments where after you've been through them, you realize that they caused a massive ripple effect that upset the serenity of your mind, just as if a boulder was dropped into a kiddy pool? I had one of those moments yesterday, nothing dramatic, but a few things happened that caused a torrent of thought that I find impossible to stem. Not that this is a bad thing, mind you.

My mind's been racing about all kinds of things, after, (of all things), a concert I attended last night in Detroit. Who would have thought that a performance of a trombone concerto, followed by Brahms's First Symphony, would cause my mind to roil about everything under the sun?

Can I sum up my thoughts? I wish I had the confidence and strength of faith to echo the words of Julian of Norwich: "All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well."

I'm not there, by any stretch of the imagination.

I had an ironic revelation today about my faith and trust in God. (I find myself recoiling that I'm even typing this. There's something for me that's icky--and icky is the right word--about writing about God-stuff.) I was thinking about my future today, and where it might take me, and Jeremiah 29:11 came to mind. "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord. 'Plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future."

At varying times in my life, that verse has given me great comfort and at others, great duress. Here's the rub: God has plans for my life. Does that mean they're the ones I want?

I'm not so great a Christian and believer that I'm ready to jump off the cliff into the open arms of Jesus and hope he'll catch me. I'd rather climb down the side, with a rope and harness, thank you very much. This is what dawned on me today: I don't want to trust my future to God, because I have too much invested in it.

Now there's a smoker right there, and it's kind of laughable. On one side: rational belief in an all-knowing God, who I believe with my rational mind knows what's best for me. On the other side: me, who has a clear idea of what God should think is best for me. Those two, I fear, are diametrically opposed, and they are continually at war within me. And of course, I know what I should believe.

"All will be well." But will I like it? I'm all about me, dammit.

There's the rub, once again. Giving lordship of my life over? Now wait a minute...not so fast!

I know all of this warring within me is something that I should just let go of. "Let go and let God."

Blech.

Let's get it all out in the open: this fear of God's will for my life (and that's what it is: fear), is primarily rooted in fear over who God wants my wife to be.

I can't get around this, and I would say for my entire life, there has been an underlying fear of whom God will choose to be my soul mate. I'd rather he not have any part in it, since the image that has been projected in my mind of whom this person would be is utterly unappealing to me.

This is a massive issue in my life, and has been there for as long as I can remember. Crazy, I know. Unlike most people, who find comfort in the fact that "God has someone in store for them," I break out in a sweat at the thought. I have an image of the "Godly woman" whom I'm supposed to love, and it's never the type of woman that interests me. It weighs very heavily on me.

"Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone?"

I've always expected the stone.

Or at least whole grain, fibrous bread, that's dry and unpalatable...but good for me.

Blech.

There it is, in all it's craziness: I don't trust God to bring me my soul mate, and I'd rather he not have anything do with it.

Doubting Thomas: that's me.

I figure he knows best, though. (ARGH!) I just wish he'd get on with it.

Better to have dry and stale bread than nothing.

Sigh.

And that's just one of the things bopping around this bald head of mine.