An Excursus and Two Side Notes (a great title)

Does God move us or do we move God? I will come back to the issue of the boring conformity (see last 2 posts) that has settled on American church culture in some of the next posts. Today, though, I wanted to address an under-the-surface issue that is a subtle (but extremely influential) driver of conformity.

There is a theological undercurrent in many churches that originates from a similar root idea, even if those churches come from wildly different traditions.

The root idea is that God is essentially inaccessible (off somewhere else doing his thing), and so we need to do something to get God’s attention. To answer the opening question: we must move to get God to move.

From my quadrant I want to pick on Charismatic (high experience/informal) and Reformed (high didactic/formal) churches for a moment (in no small part because they are opposites, at least according to my diagram, but also because true practitioners of each would be scandalized at being lumped together 😀…so this will be fun).

For Charismatics, there is a strong emphasis placed on worship and prayer (this is good!). But, the subtle (or not so subtle) teaching here is that YOU (me/we/people/etc) need to worship and pray really hard to get this inaccessible god to show up and do something cool.

[[Side Note: much has been written about the charismatic take over of worship songs. This article and this book and this book are great examples. One quote from the article: “Adam Perez said the four most influential megachurches come from the charismatic tradition of Protestant churches. All of them, he said, have a spirituality that believes God becomes present in a ‘meaningful and powerful way’ when the congregation sings a particular style of worship song.”

He goes on to say (and this is sobering): “The industry itself becomes this invisible hand,” he said. “We don’t name the theology of praise and worship — we just assume it. And we use this kind of song repertoire to reinforce it.”

That little phrase “we just assume it” contains multitudes. Conformity flourishes in the soil of unexamined reality.]]

While there is a lot to be said about all of that, take note of this statement again: God becomes present in a meaningful and powerful way when the congregation sings. We have to move to get God to move.

For Reformed folks (who are snorting their coffee right now in outrage over this comparison): we have a very different presentation, but a very similar process.

In Reformed circles one must doctrine correctly, think correctly, study and teach the Bible correctly, obey correctly, submit correctly (you get the idea) and then God will be pleased with us and move (see: “right doctrine leads to right living”, the title of any number of sermons from Titus).

We’re still stuck with “we move to get God to move.”

To cut to the chase, this is formulaic spirituality and the only way out is relational spirituality. (PS. formulaic thinking ultimately leads to conformity).

[[Second side note: This is one of the best, and most important, books I have read in the last five years and it walks a beautiful line of being technical and accessible while making a clear case: we are wired for relationships. Another excellent resource would be the collected works of Eugene Peterson. Start here.]]

In a relational theological paradigm (based on the doctrine of the trinity), we are invited into the community of God by God through God. God is the prime mover and initiator.

But (and this is important), the initiated movement is towards relationship. Relationships have give and take. God is already here and moving and he wants us to join in! To participate.

There are a lot of people who are genuinely and earnestly worshiping and learning doctrine (good things) hoping God will show up, meanwhile God is already there doing stuff wondering if any of these worshipping/doctriners will join the party!

Sort of like this.

Part of my thesis in these posts is that we have a deeper problem than “youtube and instagram are ruining the church.” The problem is both theological and practical, and we’ll get into that more next time…

The Conformity Quadrant

Last week I wrote about how cultural pressure has led to a protectionist mindset in churches, leading to a boring conformity.

Let’s explore this a bit more. First, a disclaimer: I am a pastor, not a researcher. Most of what I share here is from experience. Other sites can give you the data and statistical analysis. But, I have been doing this for about 20 years, which simply means: I’ve seen some things. And so these are my observations.

In this moment of conformity, we have settled into four camps. (By we: I mean evangelicals, and I use this word here in the broadest possible sense. I will use it again in a moment in a slightly different fashion, to describe a sub-category, I apologize for the confusion that will ensue!)

Here’s a handy chart!

And here’s a quick breakdown**:

Liturgical churches
- High structure (all churches have structure, but the high structure expression on this chart use structure as a feature: it’s part of their “thing”)
- Strong experience (the liturgy is the driver for formation, not preaching)
- Examples: some Presbyterian expressions, neo-Anglican, CRC, etc
Reformed churches
- High structure (their structure is based on hierarchy rather than liturgy: in fact hierarchy is the organizing principle of life, from family and home, to church, to doctrine, etc)
- Strong didactic (someone higher up in the hierarchy will tell you what to do)
- Ex: Bethlehem Baptist (Piper), Grace Community (MacArthur)
evangelical churches
- Low structure (structure is there, but it is for organizing ministry programs and building the organization, not a main feature. In fact, most non-denominational churches will downplay their structure, even though they might be HIGHLY organized)
- Strong didactic (preaching is a primary feature, often the main vehicle for formation)
- Ex: Saddleback, Willow Creek, etc
Charismatic churches
- Low structure (similar ethos here to the evangelical churches)
- Strong experience (here the experience is focused on worship, the Spirit, and prayer, rather than liturgy)
- Ex: Hillsong, Elevation, etc

**Notes: this breakdown is pretty similar to John Mark Comer’s 4 gospels

This is a simplistic summary and I know practitioners of each would be pretty frustrated by my reductions. In real life, it’s more complicated and nuanced than this, we all get that (right?!).

Over my lifetime, there have been shifts of energy (and power) amongst these quadrants. In the 90’s the “evangelicals” were winning, in the late aughts and early 2010’s the neo-Reformed took over the discourse, and this decade the Charismatics are dominating. (More to say about all of this as we move forward.)

For now, the movement through the grid leads to a boring conformity and a lack of imagination. What I hope to point to, ultimately, is something like this…

…because what is going on in each quadrant is not “bad” per se, but the copy and paste mentality needs to go and be replaced by an integrative approach that recognizes the good gifts of different traditions, but reimagines them for specific contexts.

In my community (small college down in the middle of California), we have a LOT of coffee shops. We have a handful of Starbucks, a Peets, a popular Bay Area mini-chain, and a popular Sacramento shop that opened a store here (this is a common issue in Davis, we repeat cool Bay Area and Sacramento things rather than create our own).

I go to Pachamama. It’s one of the few truly local options (plus its model is really cool). My contention is that the church should be more like Pachamama than Starbucks, a local expression of Good News rather than a cut-and-paste copy.

Boring Church

One of the griefs of middle age is the sober realization that your youthful dreams of changing the world are probably not coming to fruition.

I know, I know: what a cynical and sad way to start! I used to roll my eyes at older leaders who said similar things to me when I was in my twenties and starting out on this leadership journey.

A couple decades ago I was certain my generation would figure it out. There was no way we would repeat the mistakes of our parents and grandparents and the future of the church would be glorious and awesome.

Nope, we are repeating the same mistakes over and over again.

—–

Ok, that was the dark opening to my relaunching of this blog: nothing has changed, nothing has gotten better. Woohoo!

On the lighter side of things: I am still full of hope. The church is still a beautiful force for good, and (for better or for worse) the central player in God’s mission to restore shalom. I love this work and our little kingdom outpost here in Davis, CA.

But, we are not the generation to “figure it all out” and the next one after us will probably repeat a lot of our mistakes. I rage against the fact that there is nothing new under the sun, but find this truth liberating at the same time. It right-sizes my grandiosity.

And so, from that place (cynically hopeful??) I want to process some of the things I’ve learned, some of the things I see, and where I am finding hope these days. Thanks for reading!

——

Observation 1: The Church in 2024 is extremely boring.

Let’s define boring! According to the dictionary boring means: not interesting, tedious. Some synonyms include: repetitive and unimaginative. That last word is key because, and I want to be clear here, the opposite of boring is NOT entertainment.

The answer is not a good show, but a holy imagination. Twenty years ago Alan Hirsh and Michael Frost wrote: “It is not too harsh a judgment to say that most people in the Western church simply cannot see beyond the Christendom mode they know so well.”

And, oooof, that is still true, even more so today than twenty years ago (imho)!

At the risk of being overly simplistic, here are two reasons why we’ve lost our imagination and settled for boring church.

First, outside the church, the church lost the culture wars. I know some people are still fighting, but these are the little battles that linger after the main war has ended. We are in a post-Christian world now and the church has been moved to the fringe.

This is scary, and it breeds a circle-the-wagons/stop-taking-risks/keep-the-customers-happy mentality. I get it. There is a lot of pressure to maintain and a lot of fear of losing (people). But that fear is crippling and stifling. Nothing new happens because new might be too disruptive.

Why disrupt when everything else feels in flux?!

Second, inside the church, churches have chosen pragmatism over imagination. There is a desperate searching for things that “work.” If church A is doing something that appears successful, let’s copy it, so that it works for us. Next thing you know, every church looks the same.

This is a failure of nerve and an abdication of responsibility.

We are not robots, we are co-creators, shaping the future with God. We must reclaim imagination!

I will say, as a word of caution, daring to imagine a different future, and forging ahead into new territory is costly. I’ve been called some names, friends! But, God has not given us a spirit of fear, but one of power, love, and sound judgment.

This is just beginning…more to come next week. For now, let’s stoke that holy imagination and start dreaming again about a different future.

40 for 40 (January 2020)

The goal of 40 for 40 is two fold: (1) I want to take some time (a year) to slow down, stop reading so much new stuff, and (2) create space to revisit books that I have loved or considered formative to this point in my life.

Part of the quest is to fight my propensity to consume. I love reading new things and that’s not bad, but it does make it hard to deeply digest, or to go back and revisit. New is always better, right?

So, my hope this year is that I’d spend some time reflecting on the journey to 40, sit with some past favorites, get to know the “old Steve” a little better, and see if these books I’ve loved have aged with me, or if they are simply relics (ebenezers) from the past.

I began with Everything Is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer. For the past 15 years, if you had asked me: “Steve, what is your favorite book,” there’s been a 90% chance (or better) that this would be my answer.

I first read this book in the fall of 2003 on the advice of one David Crowder. I met him at a concert that my friend was running lights at, and I asked him what I always ask people: what is the best book you’ve read this year? He said, “Everything Is Illuminated.” He had just released Illuminate (coincidence?).

I re-read the book two more times: once on a trip to India in the fall of 2004, and again (in hardback for the first time) in 2007.

All three previous readings were in my 20s, pre-marriage, and well over 10 years ago!

My takeaway re-reading it now: it is a young man’s book.

It’s still amazing in many ways. Hard to believe the author was in his 20’s when he wrote it. The scene where he describes the Nazi’s coming to take over his grandparents village is still one of the most harrowing passages in any book I’ve read.

It’s a book about memory and making sense of the stories that have produced us.

And it’s great. But as I said before, it is a young man’s book.
Full of fury and urgency and sexual tension.
Full of longing and a desire for everything to mean something.
But not as weighty as I remember it feeling 15 years ago.

Young people have, and can express deep wisdom.
And getting older is no guarantee that we will grow in wisdom.
And yet…weight. Everything Is Illuminated just feels lighter now than it did then.

Which, interestingly, is sort of what the book is all about: memory, how we change and grow and evolve as people, how the perception of an event changes depending on our moment in time and our proximity to that event.

It’s a brilliant book, written by a brilliant young man, and I mean that in the best sense possible.

—————

Next up is The Book of Lost Things. There was no method to choosing this book next, but it makes for a fascinating contrast.

The Book of Lost Things is also a clever and a wonderful bit of writing about memory and tragedy and processing the traumatic events we experience in life. (First read in the fall of 2007.)

John Connolly reimagines classic fairy tales as the main vehicle for his narrative. I remember this technique being more shocking the first time around. I don’t know if I’ve just read more gnarly things, or watched too many movies, but there was very little shock value during this reading.

The particular copy I have has a big section at the end that gives the reader the background on each fairy tale and I had never read that before, so this experience was much different simply by taking the time to read through all that information.

I found the experience of reading this book much easier than I remembered it, but the ending was no less meaningful (and it is one of the best endings to any novel I’ve ever read).

And it’s the ending that gives the book weight and that provides a sharp contrast to Everything Is Illuminated. This is an old man’s book. It has less urgency, but more weight to it.

And so, my initial response, two books in to this adventure, is a sense of (a) relief. I confess to being mildly concerned that I would be devastated by “old Steve’s” taste. But, (b) also a sense that it is good to be in a different place than I was back then.

Can’t wait to share more next month…

40 for 40 (2020 Books)

Yesterday I published my 2019 book list. Check it out.

Today, let’s talk about 2020. Happy New Year!

I turn 40 this year. This milestone is obviously a time to pause and reflect, and one thing I’ve decided to do is to set a very different reading goal for the coming year. (My other big goal is to try to run a marathon).

This goal comes from two places. First, our church community is thinking a lot about spiritual formation and disciplines this year. One of my personality traits is to constantly seek and acquire new information. This is not a bad thing. But sometimes I can get caught up in needing to always be reading the “new” thing.

So part of my goal this year is to cut down the flow of new information, go a bit slower, and revisit some of the things that have formed me over the years.

Which leads to part 2: I’ve read a lot of things and been deeply formed by a lot of what I have read. There are a number of books that have been extremely important at different moments, but many of them I haven’t revisited. Some of those moments are now many years old. I’m interested to see: were these books I loved about that moment in time, or was there something timeless about what I was encountering?

Either way, it will be an interesting means through which to reflect on my 40 years. My hope is to then post something here about each book, what the original moment was like, and what it was like to read that book again at this stage of life.

A few ground rules: I could only pick one book from an author, even if I REALLY like that author (I did make one exception to this rule, but rules are made to be broken). I also sometimes picked a book that was more representative of the author, and not actually the book I enjoyed the most (this will make sense later on when I do the reviews). I also picked 39 because I want to leave room to remember something or change the list if needed. Finally, I tried to pick books from many different eras of my life.

Here’s the list:

Books of the Year

This year I got back on track and achieved my reading goal: 75 books! Here are a few that stood out to me (in no particular order):

Category 1 (Spirituality/Theology):

The Year of Small Things: Life in Davis has created a sort of reverse culture shock for our family after years of living in the “hood.” There was a moment on the soccer field this fall where we discovered that a family on our team was looking at the two houses for sale in our little development. The dad made it very clear they were really only looking at the more expensive of the two. That type of thinking is extremely prevalent here, and so figuring out how to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly is actually more complicated than we expected. This book has been a good gift to us, creating a lot of great conversations about how to live counter-culturally in this place we find ourselves in.
The Kingdom Life: Our church community is going to be experimenting with a year long journey through various spiritual disciplines, so I read a ton of spiritual formation books this year. This was the best book on formation I read. It is a great blend of theological reflection and practical ideas. Plenty of content to generate conversation as well.
Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership: In all of that formation reading, this book stood out, partly because Ruth is the best, and partly because this was the one formational book that focused on the life of the leader.
ReUnion: Every year there’s a book that ends up on my list, and in retrospect I have no idea how or why it did but I am sure glad that it did. Here’s 2019’s version. Bruxy is character, but his writing and thinking is extremely refreshing. This will be one I go back to often in the coming year(s).
Faith Formation in a Secular Age: Hands down this was the most consequential book I read this year. Fair warning: it is not easy to read. He repeats himself a lot, he quotes many, many people, there are a billion footnotes, and a lot of terms that are not familiar to most outside of academic circles. But it is so good and so important for any church that is serious about mission in the 21st century.
Honorable Mentions: Formational Children’s Ministry, Good News For A Change, The Color of Compromise, Desire of the Everlasting Hills, Raising Disciples, The Strangest Way, Faith For Exiles, The Making of An Ordinary Saint

Category 2 (Non-Fiction)

The Away Game: There are a million, billion, fascinating stories happening all the time, and one of the gifts of books is discovering what a few of those stories are. Here’s a great example: the story of the Football Dreams academy and the search for the “Next Messi” among African teenagers. Fascinating!
The Good Neighbor: Mister Rogers has experiences an incredible resurgence in this cultural moment. The book is excellently put together and does a great job exploring Rogers’ faith background as the foundation for his TV philosophy.
Improv Nation: If I had to pick one book for book of the year, this is it. Some books tell great stories, some books are full of incredible ideas and information, and some books are just brilliant writing. And then there are books where the author pulls of all three. And this is what we have with Improv Nation. A wonder to read, while at the same being informative and full of unreal stories.
The World As It Is: Some will write this book off as Obama propaganda, or an attempt to justify a particular career era (by the author), and it may very well be both of those things. That said, what this book really is is a reflection of the toll positions of power take on people. Spoiler Alert: the toll is significant.
She Said: This book is being heralded as an inside look at the story that launched the #metoo movement, and it is that. But once again, so much more is going on here. In our era of deep distrust of the media, this book is a case study in just how deeply researched news stories that comes from major publications are (and have to be). Sure, some stories get published too soon or without enough corroboration, but if you want to know what really goes into reporting big, breaking, stories check this out.
Honorable Mentions: The Job, The Power of Habit, Atomic Habits, I’ll Be There For You, Talking To Strangers

Category 3 (Fiction)

Simon Serrailler Series: I’ve spent the last two years reading various mystery series, and this one is great. It’s very character driven, very British, and can be a bit slow (in comparison to a typical American detective novel), but it is so, so good. These are great novels that happen to be about a detective, rather than detective novels.
There There: Some debut novels make you wonder how did this happen? How did this thing come out of someone who had never done this before? This is one of those books, plus it’s a fascinating look at the city of Oakland.
Honorable Mentions: On the Come Up, Witch Elm

Seeds

He told them another parable: “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches.” Matthew 13:31-32

In our public discourse there is a lot of noise, a lot of bombast.

In reaction to the noise some people keep turning up the volume,
while others bury their heads in the sand.

The Kingdom that Jesus speaks of often looks more like the latter,
but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The Kingdom comes in hidden,
small,
seemingly insignificant ways,
but it’s far from head burying,
or piously removing oneself from the fray.

The Kingdom operates in an entirely different mode.

With that in mind I would like to briefly tell the story of my friends at 1951 Coffee Company. 1951 (named after the year the UN created the official Refugee status), is the brainchild of Doug and Rachel.

Doug has been a committed member and servant at our church for a while,
and it has been a great pleasure to root him on.

Doug was working for a non-profit serving refugee’s in the East Bay (Oakland has been a sanctuary city for years and is one of the largest refugee resettlement areas on the West Coast). When the job became more about serving the organization than the population, Doug and Rachel started searching for something else to do.

Their idea, of combining their (and the Bay Area’s) love of coffee with job training, started to gain some traction.

The past year plus has been a wild ride of getting established as a 501c3, starting the training program, fundraising, and seeking a permanent space.

Our church cafe has served as the location for the training program. 25+ folks have been through a two week process and graduates have gone on to work in many local shops and cafes.

The organization found a great spot in Berkeley, started work on remodeling, and recently opened their cafe space.

And right after opening, the Executive Order effectively putting a hold on refugee admittance to the US came down. The timing could not have been better for business, and 1951 has been getting all sorts of great press.

I am grateful to have been witness to this journey,
and there are two things I especially love about this story:

They did it. A lot of people (myself included) have great ideas that never come to fruition for a whole bunch of different reasons. It’s hard to see a vision through all the way to the end, and while they are far from done, 1951 crossed a significant finish line in January, a line many great ideas fail to reach.
They haven’t ended persecution, stopped the mass-migration of peoples, or eradicated dictatorships, but they planted a mustard seed, and it is growing. As it’s branches grow, I’ve been amazed at how many people have been involved in the process. Many of these folks are from our church community, but all over the bay area and the world too. That’s the power of the growth of a kingdom seed.

In a world with a lot of noise,
I am, more and more,
looking for mustard seeds.

And I am looking for folks (myself included) willing to do the hard work,
the cultivating work,
for these seeds to grow.

I can find hot takes and big headlines without looking very hard.
But, I want good stories and better art, not more hot takes.

There is a lot of quiet good happening below the surface,
under the radar,
off the big grid.
Do we have the eyes to see it?

Seasons (Or: Hey, I Still Have This Blog)

It seems blogging has become a once-a-year exercise!
Between two full-time-working parents,
a 4 month sabbatical for our lead pastor,
and long, long list of other circumstances,
here we are: a year between posts.

Which means, let’s talk about seasons.

Life is full of rhythms and patters:
day and night,
school year and summer,
the literal four seasons,
and more metaphorical seasons like “your twenties.”

It just so happens this big season we’ve been in neatly filled the 2016 calendar year. Kind of nice how that worked out.

This season was, probably, the toughest of our lives.
Sure, other seasons have been more intense,
more tragic,
more challenging,
but this was a year of unrelenting demands
and logistical hurdles
unprecedented for our little family.

Another way of saying it: 2016 was the most adult year of my life.
Thusly, I’ve found myself pulled by the two great temptations one faces when in a challenging season.

First, the temptation to go back.
Back to a (perceived) “better,” or “easier” time.

It seems this is the great desire of our age.
Perhaps its information overload.
Perhaps it is fear about a changing world.
I’m sure many others have argued these points more eloquently,
but there is a surge of nostalgia for the past.

Whether that’s a simpler cultural era,
a less tumultuous political environment,
a more pure church,
whatever it might be,
there are powerful voices calling us backwards.

On a personal level, new seasons require a kind of grieving.
A chapter is over, and a new one is beginning,
and it’s okay to mourn the end of that era.

But, you can’t go back.

And even if you could that season changed you
and this one you are in is changing you
and if you could recreate that time
you are not the same you.
It would not be the same experience.

And then there’s the small matter that God is always going before us.
The story of God as revealed in scripture is a story that relentlessly moves forward in time.

I fear for those wanting to go back that they will miss the God who is out in front of them calling them into a better future.

Second, there is the temptation to fast forward.

I have an old friend who always reads the last chapter of a book first,
and then works their way back towards that already known ending.
That is one way to a read book, I suppose,
but it is not possible in life.

Fast forwarding your way through a challenging season may feel like a good idea, but it will short-circuit your growth. There is a reason you are here and there’s something to learn here and the question is will you learn it? Have you woken up to what is happening right here in this place?

Now, I feel the danger of this post slipping into some sappy,
just enjoy the moment, man,
kind of application.

There’s some truth there,
but if this year has taught me anything it is that
the truth is grittier than you might expect.

Per usual, nothing helps me learn and appreciate all of this more than our kids.

We have a four-year old and a two-year old.
One of my struggles in parenting is that when we leap over a hurdle with our oldest, I have a hard time accepting we still have to get over that hurdle with our youngest.

For example, there have been sleep hurdles,
discipline hurdles,
potty training hurdles.

And when we get past one of those (say potty training)
it feels like a huge victory.
That season is over!
Except it isn’t,
I’m still changing diapers.

Sometimes I want my youngest to catch up with the oldest so we can track together and jump these hurdles together (i.e. more efficiently). But that’s the temptation to fast forward and it is an illusion.

The other challenge of parenting is you wake up one day
and all of a sudden your baby can talk back.

Or that kid who you were terrified to drive home from the hospital with
because you realized you had no idea what you were doing,
is now going through the school options process,
and will be in kindergarten before you know it.

And nostalgia creeps in, and you (I) want to go back.

The gritty truth: these challenging adult seasons require a lot from us.

Most of all it requires that we show up,
day after mind-numbing day,
to make the next batch of oatmeal,
and wipe the next round of runny noses,
and purchase the next round of groceries,
and pray,
and punch in at work and do your best job even if you are tired,
and sit with the next round of broken people try to make sense of their lives, and park yourself in front of the computer to type the next sermon,
and point people to bigger truths when no one knows what truth is anymore,
and pray,
and share good news with whoever will listen,
and shake the dust off when they won’t listen,
and make sure the car has enough gas in the tank,
and call the friend you know is hurting,
and pray,
and write the thank you note that needs to be sent,
and read the same Curious George story for the millionth time,
and fold another load of laundry,
and in the middle of all that know that God in that place.

It’s Been A Year

A year ago I dropped Amy and the kids (one of whom was only 4 weeks old) off at the airport. I then turned around and began packing up a yellow Penske truck with all our worldly belongings.

Some sweet friends helped with the packing and the cleaning.

Then there was a pipe to smoke, a meal to eat, a few final goodbyes, and then off to the airport again to pick Dad up and start the drive west.

And so, here we are. A year in California. Almost a year in Oakland.

I’ve been through 3 major transitions in the last 10 years. First, Salinas to Durango. Then Durango to Boston (with the added bonus of bachelor to married man). And then Boston to Oakland.

Each transition involves a loss and a gain.

An embracing and a letting go.

Over the past year, I’ve actually really struggled to know what those things were as I’ve processed this experience and this transition.

It may turn out that as another year comes and goes I discover that what I thought I was embracing and letting go of where not really the thing.

But, this is the best I can say at this point in time, a year out.

Letting go? The thing I was a part of had an aura around it. It was cool. It was new and fresh and moldable and had good graphic design and your pulse moved a little faster when you heard about what we were up to.

There were questions and debates and creative thinking and good books were read and discussed and argued over and the envelope was pushed.

Not so much in the new thing. Now there’s more of a weekliness, a grind, a steady pace, and a walking with brokenness in broken places.

Bottom line: it’s not as cool.

But, the embracing.

The embracing of being wanted, instead if simply needed. Of transformation, not just creation.

Embracing being embraced.

Embracing all the strange and unexpected steps that led to this particular moment in this particular place.

The point is not which is better. The point is living into the moment and opportunity that is present right here, right now.

I’ve never been good at that, so the opportunity to learn how to do this is a gift.

To embrace.

All Joy//No Fun

It has been a while since I’ve posted here. One of my goals for the new year is to get back into a rhythm of blogging.

So we begin with a new reflection on parenting. Since the last time I posted anything both of our kids had birthdays, and so we now have a 3-year old and a 1-year old. Which is crazy. Where did the time go.

Anytime I think about parenting I think about the title from Jennifer Senior’s excellent book.

Some people freak out about this title because it feels sacrilegious to question being a parent at any level. Others roll their eyes in a jaded, sort of, “tell-me-something-I-don’t-know” way.

I find most parents, especially of younger kids, tend to go to one of these extremes. Happy-to-be-doing-this roboticness, or totally unsubtle resentment that these little people have robbed them of their “old life.”

Is there a better way to hold the tension?

Parenting is certainly not “no fun.” I have so much fun with my kids. Especially now that they are able to do a lot more and play and jump and talk (well more so the older than the younger, but they are both very interactive in their own ways).

But it is hard.

Our youngest has had a much more difficult time with teething than the older and I’ve spent a few midnight moments in the kitchen trying to rock him to sleep with the help of the humming refrigerator. Precious moments in some ways, but not exactly fun.

Discipline: incredibly important, but not a hoot!

Parenting is also not “all joyful.” There are some painful moments of recognizing one’s own selfishness and broken patterns of behavior.

There are painful moments of seeing those patterns show up in your kids.

There are painful moments of seeing selfish and broken patterns show up in your kids that you know didn’t come from you. They’re just there.

There’s an incredible potential in these tiny humans to break our hearts and if you have any kind of imagination you can see that potential early on.

And yet, there is so much joy. Dessert Friday. Visiting Grammy and Papa and G. Going to the park. Playing catch. Jumping Jacks. Reading books. Dinner together. When the oldest disobeys and then says to you: “Daddy, I want to be in right relationship.”

Live with that paradox parents. The old life is gone, this is a new stage, a new season. And it’s messy and frustrating and thrilling and boring and good.

And it will be transformative, if you let it.