A while back, our family went on a bike ride that thoroughly ate our lunch.  As we were not quite up to speed on jumping fallen trees and popping over gulches, we retreated.  You know, the ride of shame – going the wrong way back up the the trail as the right-way-ers flew by us.  It only seemed right to rectify the failure by mastering a different trail.   My husband had his self-esteem in order – he volunteered to drive around to the other end and pick up my son and me, so we could have a little fun.

                The path we chose appeared tame enough, flat and cushioned with a layer of pine needles.  We had just seen some fresh-looking, chatty hikers exit the route on our end, so why not?   Just after we set off, the hot afternoon sun popped out from behind the clouds and the trail heated up also.  We took a steep down-hill and maneuvered over some jagged rocks and a small stream.  I noticed the way was leading us in a different direction than I thought we should be going.  “Oh well, it’s got to end in some sort of civilization,” I rationalized.  That first wave of uneasiness was just the beginning.  The trail got meaner, the vegetation got higher and stinky-er and the direction got more off-course.    I would catch myself nervously peering around for an escape route, only to view meadows of dense, tall foliage edged by dark forest that probably housed some of the bears that had been spotted in the area (no kidding).  We were stuck with nowhere to go but forward in not-even-one-bar-on-your-cell-phone land.

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  One day a number of years ago, I watched my son drag out rope and a piece of wood from the garage. I knew he had begun yet another inventive project. Thank goodness this one was more simple than the 6 foot catapult we still have in the driveway. (It’s good to know that should a medieval-style battle break out, we are prepared.) In a jiffy, he was proudly displaying a classic tree swing in the front yard. The single, thick slat was noosed at each end by a white rope. Each side of the tether stretched up over a tall pine limb and out to anchor on a nearby crepe myrtle. It was perfect. You know what happened next, it wasn’t long before the neighborhood kids were pumping and flying right outside my window. Read more

The clouds have been building in my town this week, threatening to take us from hot and humid to just plain sauna. We had gotten a few outbursts of rain over the preceding days, but not the big one. With so much 'talk' and so little delivery, my son and I headed to a friend’s house this weekend to help her change some outdoor light bulbs. "It will only take 10 minutes", she assured.

I was watching my son replace the first set of floodlights, when I noticed above the corner of the house a pile-up of pine needles in the gutter. They were tucked just behind a tall metal guard, peeking their tips into view. It was right where a cornice joined the main part of the roof, creating a pathway for the water to drain into the gutter pipe. My friend had a little dam going up there, right in the way of the main flow. Read more

My husband and I attended a wedding rehearsal dinner last Friday night. There was so much we could have said, but as the creative, props-in-hand roasters paid tribute, we realized that momentum would wind down before we got our scattered selves together. And... somehow it seemed too small a crowd to share with anyway. A person who connects across state, gender, educational and philosophical lines really needs a bigger ‘room’ for those festivities. By now, the new couple, Glenn and Stephanie Lucke, should be baking on a honeymoon beach. Back home, I’d like to spread the tent pegs and invite you to join me in continuing the comments.

For my part, I met Glenn almost 22 years ago. He had just finished his freshman year at Dartmouth and cautiously followed a high school friend to her Bible Study where I was teaching "Don’t put God in a box." He had been sincerely redeemed from his cynical before-Christ self, but his faith was not yet a year new and somehow I could sense that fact. He was an arms-crossed 6'6" physical and intellectual tower of intimidation. My 98 lb. self was eager to finish and get the heck out of there. I thought I was free of him, as no one with that look on his face would dare come back around. Nope, that very week he showed up at my work, po boy sandwich in hand and full of questions. He’s been picking my brain and challenging my thoughts ever since - always to my betterment. No doubt many of you first encountered ‘investigator Glenn’ also.Read more

I didn’t watch much of the Grammys the other night. But, I saw enough to catch Circ de Soleil do things I didn’t know bodies could do in their demonstration of "Love," their program set to Beatles songs. I also saw the soundtrack win for best compilation. Watching Ringo accompany George Martin on stage to accept the award with "All You Need is Love" playing in the background, I was reminded that the old mantra has taken on new beats and lyrics over time, but it certainly hasn’t ended. With Valentine’s Day looming tomorrow, I dare say our culture is looking for love in high romantic swing.

I like what Peter Kreeft has to say about romantic love: that it "reveals the Beloved and is meant to point us to union with God*." Little do we realize that our general "urge to merge" (as my friend Ben Young so aptly says), is actually an expression of our desire for a much deeper thing; the mystery of oneness with God. "Eros (romantic love) is an appetizer for Agape." I’ve never actually tried telling that to someone in the throws of longing - I’m not sure it would go over too well. However, those who know Love, Himself, understand why we get enraptured by romantic love. It is the image, the shadow of eternal love-- Agape. "It is joy horizontalized, with the earthly beloved standing for God in either of two very different ways: either it is substituted for God as an idol, or else it reflects and mediates the love of God." Read more

It was, by all accounts a nice day for a chat. Mid-seventies weather, a shady spot, a friend to catch up with, only a tall, decaf latte would have made it more pleasant. We wound our way through the "how’s-so-and-so’s" and eventually came to smirking about our post-Thanksgiving self-awareness. I think it started with "I ate too much," followed by strategies to work off the downed dressing and gravy, plus, plus. But we didn’t stop there, with each in-turn we unearthed another bit of evidence of the invasion of image, of perfectionism.

Our list included things like the temptation to over analyze what we said earlier in the day, studying our memory of people’s reactions to confirm or defend our suspicions. The nudge to jump in the conversation with a witty comment, or to let a smart, knowing tidbit fall at just the right time came to mind. Then there was the desire to wax pseudo-wisely in answer to that difficult question when "I have no idea" would have been absolutely accurate. One author I like describes it as "separating out from yourself to look at yourself." And behind it is the insidious, propagated lie that all this will keep us from being disqualified for what we want, that somehow it will make us OK - for real. It is such a pervasive, sly phenomenon - what to do?Read more

Once again I have become intrigued by Genesis 3:20. I keep coming back to it. In its simplicity, it speaks to me. It is the occasion of the naming of Eve.

You know the story…Adam’s helper, God’s fashioned-one on whom he had lavished the wonders of his pristine world and the fellowship of himself had become convinced there was more. And ‘more’ was to come through herself – her forbidden-fruit-enlightened self - her bigger, better, more exalted self. So, in Satan’s ultimate coup of creative marketing, she bought the lie and got death instead. In the process, she became the open door of death to all. What a legacy – life-taker – like no other.Read more

A few years ago, our mayor innovatively re-timed the lights in our city in an effort to "Get Houston Moving". Once you enter a major thoroughfare heading toward downtown, the lights are your friends - generously giving you right of way. The effort to join that flow is another story. It’s quite a wait. I decided a while back that although the lights have the authority, I have the brain and I could utilized it to my advantage. Let the games begin!Read more

The phone rang a few weeks ago at, of course, the most inconvenient time. I think my family and I were in travail over the deadline of a science fair project. My son was dull to hear my organizational spiel, and I was dull to hear my caller, being preoccupied with such monumental things. But I knew why she called, so I began wresting my heart from frustration to focus. I just didn’t figure I would go all the way to wonder.

I had been traveling the road of infertility with her for many months. What a trip it is. I know; I did it myself. During the process I found myself suddenly aligned with myriad people who long for things unfulfilled. For the first time, I could knowingly nod with a friend who could never answer why life, movies, magazines proceed on a white-dressed parade of "happily ever afters" while she is only invited to watch. I could appreciate the elusiveness of success when hard work doesn’t pay off and of health when sickness will not relent.

There is no sense of justice or even the least bit of reason in such a place. And the questions - ugh - they cut to the core. "Why?" That one is not always answered. So it goes to, "Is it me?", opening the door to all the imaginations that blame and guilt can conjure. All the while your heart is hinting, "God, is it you?" God’s goodness secretly (so risky to mention) comes into question. Though his word states that he is, life sometimes screams that he isn’t.Read more

When we entered through the grand wooden doors, we were instructed to be quiet - galley members should exchange comments at a low, respectful level. I don’t know what I thought Federal Court would look like (something hints that it might have involved a grandiose bench with a white-wigged judge behind it), but it was different from my imagination. It was simple, wide open, clean. The lines were all straight - appropriate for a place of justice.

Once we settled in behind the press, the defendant (our friend) walked in with his lawyer. His sentence was being determined today, and with it, his and his family’s future. The low level buzz in our section came to an abrupt halt when the prosecuting attorney entered at our backs. It felt as if power had sauntered into the room. We were keenly aware that his words, his tone, even his name wielded great power of influence. But, did he really know the truth? Was he seeking justice, or just an exclamation point at the end of his (in our opinion - arm-twisted) victory?Read more