Ready to Ride--But not in the rain?

"How you doin'?", I asked my wife Monique.

"My legs hurt, but I feel great," she replied.

"Me too," I said. "Only a handful of us believe it's possible to get it done."

"I don't mind being part of the handful really," she said. "But riding in rain, I just can't do it. Too dangerous." Pause. "No way I'm goin' out in the rain. You can't make me," she continued. Then an afterthought, "Impossible."

Today she rode in the rain.

The posts are few and far between--I'm off on the nearly 500 mile bicycle ride across Iowa this week. Sounds kinda crazy, I know. People have called me crazy for years and I figured it was time to walk the talk. However, one gentleman is roller blading across Iowa, another is riding his Unicycle. One woman is riding with one wooden leg and another with only one arm. An 81 year old man is riding this week with only one gear, my wife rode in the rain, and the rest of us are riding with one big pile of guts, fear, pain, joy, pride and satisfaction. One man, Wes, rode the first three days...the first after discovering his nephew was killed in a motorcycle accident. He leaves for the funeral tomorrow morning. We've all got stories. Between my wife and I, we've popped two tires and broke a spoke. In all that I've told my story at least once already, and to a perfectly random stranger who overheard a conversation.

We're all a little crazy I suppose. But I'm off on another day of doing the impossible and that feels quite normal. All the days are them that the Lord has made and the lot of us wake up to see as much of it as possible.

Seas and the Arctic Tundra

I've been away on vacation, that's why I didn't write.  My wife, I and Mom and Dad H. travelled to Alaska together.  Let me begin with a comparison.

A few weeks ago I took my Dad-in-law on a weekend motorcycle trip.  We geared up from head to toe, put the Triumph in gear and took off.  The ride was awesome.  The trip wasn't perfect.  The wind bucked us around a bit, the weather was pretty good but cool, and the hot tub at the hotel didn't work.  But I don't ride to find perfection as if riding is some external destination.  Exotic lifestyles and joyful perceptions come from within.  We didn't ride away hoping to find Utopia.  Ya hit the road and challenge the vibration, the wind, the gear and the silence not to affect you to the core. 

Alaska was like that. In some ways the vacation mirrored life in its imperfection.  No matter how straight my "ducks" were in their row, some travails were unavoidable. Sounds disappointing?  It wasn't.  Our Alaskan adventure evolved from "seeing" Alaska into all the ways we experience grace by minutes and days.  

I enjoyed watching characters at the airport and in the plane.  This time I entertained myself by watching how people act around the lavatory.  One lady told several people who didn't want to know that she hates "airplane bathrooms" but she'd had a giant coffee and she had to pee worse than ever before (in like her entire 72 year life? Uh Huh).  One simply stands and waits right?  You try not to think that men and women alike are using that bathroom one after another, you try very hard not to think about getting sucked through that little hole and shot out of the airplane at 37,000 feet.  You try very hard not to look at each other, even while you exchange pleasantries.  And you try not to concentrate on the gentleman who just walked out of the bathroom with a curious and curvy smile on his face...I wonder if he does that at his own house?  I will remember the tall, lanky gentleman whom I thought as waiting for the lavatory, but who instead stood near the front of the plane for nearly half an hour, listened to music on his Ipod, then returned to his seat.  Why do I want to remember him?  I don't know, he was tall, lanky and had an Ipod...I smiled as I thought he might've even for a second tendered the thought about what it might feel like to jump out of an airplane at 37,000 feet. 

Like everyone, they disappear into the black hole.  They walk away, and a force akin to gravity pulls them to a destination other than my own.  Ours pulled us to Alaska via Vancouver B.C and the Holland America Ship the "Veendam".  This vacation was really a lesson in adaptation and trust.  We couldn't embark to the ship because more than the usual number of patrons on the previous cruise became sick with something and so they took no chances. They cleaned and scoured every inch of her before they allowed us to embark. SO we enjoyed an all day tour of Vancouver.  We enjoyed a longer tour than we normally might've had and I feel blessed.  We finally embarked after an hour in an uncomfortable holding room, but there were good people to talk to while we waited and I feel blessed.  The servers at the meal seemed quite slow half the time, but the food was excellent and the company enjoyable, and I feel blessed.  Room service was slow a couple times, but while we waited we stood out on the Verandah and marveled at the mountains hugging the sea, at the dolphins and sea lions swimming in our wake, at the eight orcas pushing us into port, and at the ocean marvelously unaffected by our giant ship.  I was blessed.  The giant viewing windows throughout the ship were quite dirty, a fact I found interesting being that the cruise itself was all about what was happening outside.  Maybe with everything else they didn't have time?  I don't know, I can't speculate.  I didn't need windows, I had a verandah.  Either way, turns out the windows couldn't change the beauty of the skies, the majesty of the mountains and the power of the seas.  We were blessed.  Oddly, the cruise entertainment was quite good and I was blessed.  We learned the secret to making martinis and tasting wine.  I can't wait to explore the fruit of those lessons sometime soon.  We might be able to bless you with our new-found skills.  

God held the sun up 20 hours of every day.  Two a.m. might as well have been 2 p.m.  The position of the earth, distance from the North Pole and the Earth's orbit around the sun help explain the phenomenon.  The sun does arc across the vast Alaskan Tundra, but seems to move horizontally along its celestial highway.  Surreal.  

The weather was perfect most of the time and I enjoyed walks through cities like Juneau exploring passageways, walking past Sarah Palin and her Family's house, and roaming back streets uncontested and undiscovered by any other cruiser, and we were blessed.  We biked through Auk Bay and biked outside of Skagway and through the streets of Fairbanks.  We ate lunch atop a mountain and shifted between rocks underneath a delicate waterfall. We were blessed.  The "Formal Night" photos were expensive but five of them captured the essence of my bride and so others now also see by her smile that I am blessed.  Our ship sailed late into one port, but because of the late arrival I was able to wake up in time to enjoy watching her sail in and parallel park.  I'm blessed.

It was in part the power of adaptation that made our trip special and unique.  I never once believed I had to make lemonade from lemons.  God had prepared feasts for the eyes long before I even had eyes and so a minor snafu in service, a little trouble here and there by no means meant I was surrounded by lemons.  We climbed through forests and valleys, we drank water from fresh springs. I felt massive bergs calving from glaciers and enjoyed a man sing the same songs his father played with the great Johnny Cash.  

A grizzly grazed while I and a bus full of marveled guests watched her.  In some ways I felt out of place, this was her home.  She didn't seem to mind.  God built the Dall Sheep's home upon the rock. Moose snacked on tree branches and we saw one Caribou resting in the snow and another running mere feet ahead of us.  I heard the Ptarmigan sing, watched the arctic ground squirrel scamper and I saw the mighty Denali towering over the Arctic Desert.  The days were so clear we saw almost every grand inch of the nearly 21,000 foot mountain.  We enjoyed a soft rain in Fairbanks and the ardent conversation of our Bed and Breakfast hosts.  We were honored to meet servants of the United States Air Force and I was honored to have vacationed with a 24 year veteran of the United States Army.  We were blessed.  I remember a funny little tour guide who while telling the story of the Raven (A native Tglingit Story of creation), sounded just like John F. Kennedy--"and as Tiiiime Paaaased Byyyy" he would say.

I can see my breath in crisp Alaskan air.  Cool air and clouds hang over the mountains as if they also breathe.  I remember Rivers turned silver by dusk's finger-light.  I remember the mighty Bald Eagle devouring a fresh kill, surviving exactly as the creator intended.  I remember the great lakes filled with Loon and Heron.  I remember--One doesn't own Alaska. You find the rain forests, the seas, the mountains and the arctic desert wild and infinite. I can't tell anyone that I simply "saw" Alaska. It'd be foolish to say so.  I entered Alaska with everything I was, and left Alaska different.  Amazing days are like that.  If you leave them the same, you've experienced nothing.  

Alaska is in every terrain like no other place.  God opens her up and she simply and mightily wrestles with your heart.  God reminded me during a small earth quake, one of a thousand felt every year in the giant state inhabited by the toughest of men and women that, "I form the light and create darkness, I bring prosperity and create disaster; I, the LORD, do all these things." (Isaiah 45:7). 

We were blessed.

The Airport and Baseball

The Arizona sky--rippled clouds and warm, dry air.  I tasted the smell of leather, hot dogs, beer and Old Spice.

The eclectic airport culture confounds me.  My brother loves watching airport patrons because their walk, attitude, attire, hairdo, size, weight, and pace define every angle of their character, nature and personality. Imagine how differently you and I handle stress?  How might four or five of us deal with layovers or hunger? Some of us need to wear suits on the plane and some of us don't need to wear tight, butt-hugging pants to the airport.

I and my brother flew to Phoenix for a couple days of sun and baseball.  

One often wonders about strangers that sit next to you on any trip-leg.  Some say "hello," and some are volcanoes, and some--church mice.  They're students and adults and professional hackers.  Some are bums and athletes. Some are tattooed wizards.  

They all disappear.  The earth eventually spins them right out of my sight-line.  They've all got places to go without me.  I wonder--airports must be black holes.  I've never received a number or an address for any new friend beside me in a row that's inevitably and relatively close to the wing. No airline company can seem to sit me anywhere but on the bloody wing.  I know my row-mates by first name some of the time; And, in every case, they eventually become not much more than like an semi-entertaining film we saw one day back when--remember faces, a funny quip, a few lines, a bit of the plot, that's it.

My row eleven seat-mate inside the Airbus 320 farted in my general direction. The two-pack-a-day woman filled the middle seat, her husband took the window seat--I would be closest to the beverage cart which meant I got my tomato juice last.  With no smog-filter in her throat, time and million cigarettes changed her voice to one that sounded quite a lot like her husband's.  She laughed and if my eyes were closed I'd wonder if she were grating radishes. The late-forty-something year-old woman entered the aircraft phone-texting and she continued texting until about five minutes after captain Levitz told us to turn our electronic devices off.  She then shifted her butt outward, leaned toward her husband, wrapped her arms around his arm, layed her head on his shoulder, and farted.

The layover at Denver airport offered a chance meeting with one family from Le Mars, IA, a mere hop and a jump from my town, Des Moines, IA.  More importantly, I went to school not thirty minutes from Le Mars, grew up in close-by Sioux Falls, SD, and most importantly enjoyed Wells Blue Bunny Ice Cream in Le Mars Iowa.  The Mom of the family grew up in Southern California near where I was born, the son loved baseball and wrestling, the girl loved Brittany Spears and the youngest son loved fishing.  The older son, a high-school wrestler had recently returned home from wrestling in Des Moines' Wells Fargo Arena, the largest venue he'd ever wrestled in. 

Phoenix to Denver--my favorite row-mate was a young lady who, during the worst air-turbulence I've ever experienced (besides the afore mentioned fart), compulsively and repeatedly uttered, "This is not my favorite, this is so not my favorite."  My brother didn't help her much when he mentioned that if we crash it'd be over very quickly.  Me, my mouth shuts down, but my the voices in my head grow exponentially louder.  My brother talks more and faster than the airplane could fly, but I think the voices in his head interrupt the "make sense" portion of his brain. So between what was "not her favorite", my quiet head-noise, and Rob's noisy blather, the flight kept us entertained in a demented sort of way. 

The flight to Phoenix proved uneventful.  My brother and I had a row all to ourselves and thus my inflight entertainment became my brother's stories and the pilot-tower chatter on channel 9.

Our adventure began Sunday morning when my wife and I left Des Moines early so we'd make church services at my sisters' and their family's church. We had a good afternoon and decided between all of us that we'd eat at this diner near Eppley Airfield where I'd fly from that evening.  The older sister has two foster children.  The law doesn't allow them to leave the state with the children.  The Iowa border is only a few minutes away from Omaha.  One might even cross the border a couple times on the way to Eppley.  We fore-went one restaurant because it was in Iowa.  Everyone believed that the diner we chose was well within Nebraska limits.  Turned out, after a series of border crossings along the way, that the diner sat neatly about 50 feet into Iowa.  Whoops.  So, an hour before I would pass airport security, I helped my family break the law.   

All that was icing on the cake and the cherry on top.  The cake--I and my brother enjoyed unbelievably beautiful Phoenix weather at stadiums filled by baseball fans from all over the world.  We and they watched my favorite baseball team play my favorite sport.  I love the smell of fresh grass, beer, Dodger Dogs, brand-new baseball caps, and sun-block lotion.  If I were a persistent smeller, I might even catch a whiff of chaw leaving the lips of my favorite players.  MMM-MMM.  Wait a sec...never mind, that's pretty gross.

Oh, I have a question, why does one wear high-heels to a Phoenix area Spring Training baseball game?  Why wear high heels to any baseball game?  The stripper convention is in Vegas and the Hoity Toity convention is in...well I don't know, but it's not at the BASEBALL STADIUM!  Tenny's, shorts and T-Shirts please.  I might just step on your toes diving after an errant foul ball. 

I thoroughly enjoyed my nephew and nieces, the airport culture, and I had some of my best days with my brother.  So, besides a three-hundred dollar meteor sized rock slamming into our windshield like a hostile rock-alien, the trip rocked (no pun intended).  

Two of my favorite places--the airport and the baseball stadium converged into one sincerely personalized experience.  The world is my oyster; and a healthy, meaty part of the oyster exists at the airport and the field. 

The eclectic airport culture, and high-heels at baseball games confounds me.

But somewhere deep in my eyes, I never lost sight of her.  I'm glad to be home. 

Project Vacation Alleluia

We're in Pagosa Springs Colorado and staying at a Wyndam Resort which is part of Mom and Dad Huizinga's world-wide Time Share capabilities.  I look out over a small lake into the San Juan mountains in the cool soft morning air.  We've been blessed with a sensory feast over the last week.

Our drive to Pagosa Springs included a trip through the Grand Tetons and a roll and stroll through Flaming Gorge.  Magical.  I've a much greater understanding of how it might be possible to be safe in the hand of Almighty God.

Saturday we arrived in Southern Colorado at nearly the same time as Monique's Uncle and Aunt, Gerrits and Susie Kasper.  As if time with them isn't easy and delightful enough, they brought with them a hundred proof bottle of a whiskey blend called Yukon Jack.  There's no tellin what Yukon Jack did as a young boy, but you can bet he was a trouble maker!  

In actuality, the night and the next day were delightful and so six of us and Yukon Jack spent a late evening together and by morning...Yukon Jack had left the building!  None of us were drunk or anything like that and Monique and Dad Huizinga sipped on wine and nibbled cheese throughout the evening, but Ol' Yukon grew up to be a fine companion.

We'd hiked and walked and driven so much since the Lifelight Music Festival in Sioux Falls last weekend already, that we've welcomed the chance to sit down on soft couches in this magnificent and large place here in another part of creation that God smiled upon long ago.

It's Monday morning and I have no idea what's in store for today.  We might go see Chimney Rock a few miles outside of town.  Chimney Rock sets high above the landscape, and somehow has been carved and shaved until the sculpture resembled a giant chimney.  Light a match to it and nothing happens...but it sure looks like a place one could have a cozy fire!  Well, bigfoot or Paul Bunyan could anyway.

I never wrote about Lifelight Music Festival...the thing that began our quest for pieces of Heaven.  The weather was almost perfect while we were there...the wind was a bit high, but the temperature and good fortune held up.  My family camped together in the the New Testament campground and it is a place to find a little refuge when you're sick of walking around or while you wait for the band that suits your fancy.  

The music was awesome, the company of family and friends was delightful.  

So began project "Vacation Alleluia."

LIFELIGHT AND PRAYER

Monique and I attended the Lifelight Christian Music Festival with our family this past weekend (Labor Day Weekend). Good music...great weather...sweet memories. I love to go to the festival because of the music. But I think I enjoy Lifelight because my family is there. I had the priviledge of spending about 6 hours in 2 days at Wild Water West with my niece Leah. The water was cool and Leah was a trip. She's a brave little one and we had so much fun together. She wanted me to follow her down the slides, she wanted us to go under water with her, she loved to float, she loved the hotdogs and fries...and I loved all of it! Oh yes...and this one a festival at which I didn't spend even one second in a wheel chair! Halleluja! Praise God!

There are many ways I've enjoyed Lifelight--through pain, through bad weather, through family...however, one reason stands atop the entire list...the reason that keeps me coming back to lifelight. There's always at least one moment where God allows me to climb to the mountaintop and see God there. A friend of myself and Monique, her name is Anne Michelle (AM), spent much of the Lifelight festival with us and our family. Anne Michell "AM", is mostly deaf. I, tell you about her hearing loss because that is one of her characteristics, not because one constantly extracts that particular trait from her being. The deaf community is (or has been) particularly annoyed when their language is exposed or exploited. A lot of us wiggle our hands around, pretending to sign when we have no idea what we're doing. To them it's the same as when we make fun of the Asian language by contorting our faces and saying something weird (choi choi choi) in a what we believe is a chinese or Vietnamese accent etc. The deaf community is often isolated from you, and some of it is by choice. We can't be trusted not to make fun of them.

"AM" may have a few of those annoyances, I don't know. We haven't really had that conversation. It's never been an important thing to note within our friendship. What I do know is that she is an intelligent, patient and wonderful person. She's a teacher in the Des Moines area and a fervent Christian woman. Like anyone, she appreciates someone who can speak to her in a language she can "hear"...sign. Let me say that "AM" likes to simply hang out with her friends. We often spend time with her and talk and walk and laugh. If she didn't understand something she says "What?" and we repeat ourselves...never exploiting her, never unsafely exposing her. Sometimes I make fun and she says "You can't make fun of me, I'm hard of hearing!" and I say back "I'm handicapped too so I can tease you all I want!" to which she replies "Can you take it as well as you dish it?" The answer is yes, of course I can! But, we don't spend a ton of time teasing eachother. They're only moments that we acknowlege our "Specialties" and then we let them go again.

Monique and her have become very good friends and I know that my wife loves her dearly. Well, we both do, but her and Monique's friendship is a most pleasant thing for this husband to watch. Monique and I came home one day to find that "AM" was weeding our garden. She also stops by just to say hello, has gone to different events with us and she enjoys Monique's company after church etc. Most importantly I think that "AM" trusts Monique to keep her friendship safe from exploitation. Monique eagerly seeks to learn signs she doesn't know or doesn't remember. Monique had taken classes in sign years before and uses this skill while singing songs (In Church, at home, in the car...) and sometimes when speaking to "AM". "AM" gives the gift of lip reading to her hearing friends. She gives this gift daily to the world so that she can be part of the world and so the world can be part of her. She can hear words in a quiet environment but in noise like LIFELIGHT, hearing words is nearly impossible. So she reads lips. It's funny actually...reading lips is an asset, a way the hearing get "one-upped". One particular moment the music was so loud I couldn't hear myself think. There was no way two hearing people could engage in a conversation... but I turned to her and said something about the concert knowing that sound didn't matter, and she replied with an answer as if it was quiet as mouse...as if we were having a normal conversation! She spoke more slowly so I could read her lips but it was great. A Helicopter could be hovering 5 feet over your head and we could still talk to eachother. She'll teach you her language if you want to learn it...but if she knows you don't know her language, she doesn't use it around you. In a way, she doesn't expose herself to you until she trusts you with her weaknesses...actually she doesn't expose herself until she knows you can handle her strengths, a super sensitive lip-reading skill, sign language, and sensitive sense of smell and sight and an incredible set of facial expressions.

"AM" and her sister came to Lifelight this weekend. Her sister, of course, can sign and she would flip between sign language and spoken English to say...myself for instance! It's like Monique's mom and dad switching from Dutch to English at the drop of the hat and it's quite amazing to watch. "ASL" (American Sign Language) doesn't follow the typical English sentence structure so bopping from language to language is truly a skill. Monique and the two girls (and I and the family too) enjoyed being with them. Monique, AM, and Hannah would speak in sign to eachother once in awhile...and of course Niekje was learning new signs during their conversations. But God gave Monique a breath of fresh air one evening. Chris Tomlin was on stage and the words to the songs were coming up on the Giant screens. Monique wasn't having a great evening...she didn't feel well, she was a little bit grouchy, she was a little bit angry with me for something I said to her and she was tired...but AM and Hannah stood together and were singing in sign and mouthing the words...well, Hannah was actually also singing outloud. AM was in a safe environment and was enjoying the peace of music in her language. I encouraged Monique to stand with them and sing with them. She refused. I told her that signing always helps her and changes her spirit. She didn't say anything and continued to sit. I didn't touch her, I only sang with Chris, hoping that she would come around...she loves Chris Tomlin. For some reason she stood up. I don't know why to this day. Niekje didn't need to be welcomed into AM and Hannah's presence...she was always welcome there. They began to sign...Monique at first tentative, not wanting to mess up, not wanting to break AM's focus...but it wasn't long until the Holy Spirit was fresh among them. AM feels the beat of a song and, if she is familiar with the music, can follow a song well, even if she's not always looking at the words. God is here right now, and I know that He was amongst us then. It's rare for me to see the Holy Spirit so fresh amongst His people...that's kind of a sad statement, but it's true. However, he was amongst those girls in a way that I won't forget. At that moment, AM didn't have to worry that her language was being misused. She trusted her friend with her language that night, as she always does. And she trusted her friend as they prayed together. That night, 6 eyes were closed, and they sang together "Indescribabe" by Chris Tomlin. Their hands moved in unison...a prayer for the ages. God brought me to the mountaintop so that I could see what it is to be righteous, what it is to be generous, what it is to be completely within the loving touch of God. He taught me one more thing and I'll tell you what it was in a moment. Monique stood with her friend and prayed in a common language with her. Monique was greatly rejuvenated...she trusted her friend with her somewhat gritty disposition and they simply prayed together... God again moved my disposition. But, it was bigger than that...not about me or them or my family...God was and is. It's that simple. I love that such trusting and loving friendships exist still. But, even though God is faithful and just and loving and kind we often don't trust him with our grit. Will not He act faithfully in friendship as Monique and AM have done with eachother? Won't He, in even a much greater way keep you in ways you can't even think to ask or imagine?

The most important lesson for that night was that I discovered it was a privilege for me to present my wife before God knowing that she would find her rest and that God would be faithful in that. She is my body and I present her before you. She is my example of righteousness, of knowledge, of skill, of stamina, of perseverence, of Godliness, of patience, of stalwart attention to ministry, of morality, of generosity...I am humbled by my bride and I intend to keep "my body" pure...we are one and so when I do something harmful, she is harmed. When I say something prideful, she is humiliated...when I do something terrible, she is crushed. I was mean to her that day...not the whole day, just a moment in time, but, she was exposed and exploited and in that, I left her out in the cold...my body naked and exposed. And yet God was willing to show me what it is to protect a friend when He prodded her to stand and pray with her friend in a language they knew together.

That was my Lifelight moment...I hope to stand with my wife in prayer, in scripture and in peace. I hope you won't see me exploit her in front of you like I have in the past. I hope that you won't see me make fun of her in front of you. I hope that you won't see me cause vulnerability within her in front of you. In fact, don't expect it...I mean not to.

Satisfied

We've had a busy couple months. From exercise to writing sermons to planning a family vacation, to building a business, to most recently a trip to Chicago with my cousins from Holland.

But, a true highlight of the summer was a ride called RAGBRAI--Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa. A couple of weeks ago, Monique and I learned that we can strap on a recipe of will, effort, and crazy and do 500 miles on a bicycle...make a boy's butt hurt worse than getting an enema. . . but it was awesome!!! There's a little sump'n for everyone, but you learn to strive and have fun at the same time.

But, enough of that for now. . .one wears bike shorts because they have padding in them and when you spend 8 hours a day on a bicycle you're pretty glad you're wearing pants with diapers. 500 miles of wind strewn weather beaten heaven. It was a magnificent trip. The road often rose up to meet me (HILLS) and the wind was not always at my back, but every town the nearly 20,000 riders came into was unique and the celebration and food and entertainment was always good. At night, there was nothing like a good conversation with the team, a brat and a beer didn't hurt either.

I saw the white sunrise turn gold with hours, felt the cool wind in my face and witnessed magnificent things. There was one guy who did the ride in a big banana suit. . . why? Ummm--I was laughing too hard to care. How 'bout the guy who rode with 10 inch speakers and an IPOD full of Irish Pub Songs? That's just cool.

I lost a little weight and I'm stronger than I was a week previous. I can see a few ripples in my abs and I've got a nice tan going...sweet. But that's a side effect. I learned what teamwork is about, what it means to bend over backwards for someone in need, how to be safe, friendly, and joyful in all things. I'm different than I was 500 miles ago--more confident.

It's a great thing to get up and do something you didn't think you had in you. For 7 days, lock into your pedals, turn them for hours each day, enjoy my diaper pants, some good food and the guy in the banana suit and come on home. . .you'll realize you can do anything.

However, I began to wonder about something during RAGBRAI and rekindled the thought during our recent trip to Chicago. Life is what you make of it and I realized the survival of a species does not depend on cell phones, computers, the best equipment, cars, airplanes and access to the newest thing. Character decides your way of life. Dad used to say "do not do anything to disparage my good name..." and I can do that without high technology. I can do that with my Bride, with the wind, with the mist and with my hands, feet, mouth, with my actions and my words.

We went to the Museum of Science and Technology and there, we came to an exhibit about time, achievement, invention and life in yesteryear. The exhibit included a full street of what Chicago looked like in 1906. It included everything from dim lampposts, a stone road, clothing, little clothing shops, a barber who advertised his mixture of shaving cream, an advertisement for a sewing kit and more. There were no computers, the sewing machines were basic, advertisements were drawn instead of photographed, bicycles were made of iron, gum was not sold in paper packages but in tins...there was more of course. I imagined a stroll through the streets lit by lamps with an old world wisdom written into them. I imagined a Fedora on my head and a walking suit on my body and I wondered...Invention has given us much. Invention has made life a wonderment and taken us into discovery of materials, cures for diseases, and speed on the road. Invention has allowed us to reach the heavens in ways we weren't even dreaming about in 1906. But I wondered something...I couldn't stay where I was last year. It was a difficult year. I had to move into a new place and a new way from last year. I'm different than I was the first time I sat on my new bicycle than I was the day I finished a 477 mile bike ride. And we had to ride a path of effort in life and on a bicycle. Society has done that for centuries. My family wasn't the first to accomplish something. Invention and technology has given us much...but, how much have we lost by being dissastisfied with where we were? How many good names have we disparaged along the way?

By the way...if you want to listen to the sermon I gave a week ago you can do so by going to this link... feed://feeds.feedburner.com/Crossroadscrc and click on "INTEREST PASSION EFFORT TEAM August 5 am service. You'll be able to listen right there.