I need some time of listening...

Where do you go when you need to pray, listen, wait?

The place we find ourselves...

I have been doing some thinking about blogs, friends who are having ministry and life decisions, people who I know who comment angrily and anonymously, people who know how to get around the system, hurricanes that know how to get around and destroy levies and seawalls, people who don't add to the quality of life but take, mock, grind away at others who are trying to do something, people who made a difference in music in the sixties who just put out new CDs like The Stones, McCartney, Martin Scorsese's DVD on Dylan, the life and passing of Simon Wiesenthal, not caring about football, making my Christmas cordial, why we worship for an hour, Autumn, baseball, life work, life goals, my wife, weddings, ...

Hmmm...

When will people do the right thing because it is the right thing to do instead of doing the wrong thing because they simply... can?

Hey, what happened to the comments...

I met with Cory Piña this morning for coffee and asked him about comments and nameless comments and the despair they can cause. Comments can be made in the passion of the moment and a lot of pain can be thoughtlessly executed by a quick reaction. I was going to go for a 5 day waiting period but I don't believe that comments kill people, people kill people...

So therefore, I changed to a commenting system where people have to sign into blogger and are there for the conversation around the dinner table rather than in the closet.

When you speak without a name you have no voice and no place at the grown-up's table.

A friend who was my boss...

I would like to say something about Rick Harrison, the Executive Director of Calvin Crest, who is leaving to kick start some camps in Southern California, somthing he is very good at.

Rick and I first served together back in 1975 & 76, when we were in college and on staff as lead counselors. Rick then ran a new program called Out Post, which was for JrHighers because of full enrollment in the junior high program at the main camp, held in a public camp ground. I had much respect for Rick's laid back style of leadership and his high relational values of HOW we did program.

Our office at the new camp, was his van, our kitchen was a make shift refrigerator and campfire, our beds were the ground, and our community was forged by putting on this program for the first time. He let us have input because we all were doing this for the first time. It was great, we were very creative.

He became the program director a few years later with our dear, departed, friend Brad Durley. He served for a few more years in that position until he left to pastor a church in Northern California. In the early 1990's Rick was asked to come back as the Executive Director. The camp was in huge turmoil. It was in the midst of a drought and wells needed to be dug. The camp had lost its identity and the finances were dragging. People needed to be reminded of who Calvin Crest was, more than just what it was. Rick brought back a spirit of excitement again for the ministry. He discovered the camp was in debt, because of the drought and an embezzlement of a staff member. By faith, he followed that which needed to be done. And through some very incredible things that God did (some day I will tell you the story), Calvin Crest got out of a huge debt.

Rick, by faith, hired me. I had no camp leadership experience. Rick hired me. He heard God and was faithful and hired me. I had never programmed a camp but Rick saw the potential in me and gave me a shot. He kept me close and gave me encouragement as he corrected my decisions. Over the years Rick trusted what I felt God was saying to me about the program and it proved successful. Even when there were people giving him complaints, Rick was supportive and stuck with me. There were times we would disagree but I never felt I didn't have his support and friendship. Rick wanted to be a partner with me in ministry, not just my boss. He included me in decisions and listened to my opinion. His humor always took the weight off of the tough loads we carried through out our time together. I enjoyed the laughter that was found in his office during hard discussions.

And Ginny is an incredible woman of God with a financial understanding par excellant! When she came she was able to untangle the non-system to create one of order. Her insight into "what goes on here" will be extremely missed. Her love for Calvin Crest was evident as she worked long hours to make it all run smoothly. Ginny continually demostratated her quiet wisdom in meetings by giving her opinion that complimented ours and didn't compete with ours. Rick and I are very right brained and Ginny is a CPA. I tried to see the ministry through her eyes as often as possible. Ginny is an asset to any place she brings her mechanical pencil and her heart. That girl is smart!

I am confident of the job Rick is going to do in SoCal. He has an incredible ability to get things going. I will miss him and his wife Ginny but am extremely thankful for the time he entrusted me with his ministry at Calvin Crest.

God's speed, Rick...

Something big...

There is a very important announcement at Calvin Crest. If you have worked there or been involved with us you will want to click here.

I will blog later...

On the road...

I am traveling today to restore some relationships - post summer. I tend to lose a lot of visual contact with people during the summer and find the Fall a good time to listen to youth pastors and others who are involved with Calvin Crest in ministry. I am in Mariposa and Merced today meeting with Scott Vance and then Dave McGurk. I always leave a little sharper after these times together.

Unto restoration...

On Saturday, Christel, Hillary, and I went to the car show at the park in Oakhurst. Small town, locals who work on vintage cars, showing them off to each other and to us appreciateers. There was some amazing cars, old one that people took great pride in restoring to the original specs and colors. Beautiful work, incredible craftmanship, detailing, nothing overlooked, even the glovebox had gloves in it from the era.

Hillary and I both loved an 1955 Austin-Healy 100. Fully restored. An older gentleman in his 70s was the owner and restorer. We made a fuss over it and he came up to take responsibility. Pride and confidence was on his face. We walked on and Hillary couldn't stop talking about it. We went back to get a picture of her with the car but the owner was driving off in it as we approached the spot where it was on display. He drove off in it. It wasn't on a trailer, he drove it. Wind whipping over his English cap and his smile as he shifted out of first gear. The engine sounded just like I remembered it when I was younger.

Sunday night, I preached from Matthew 8, where Jesus finishes the Sermon dela Montana and a leper comes up, bows before him and asks if He is willing to cleanse him. Jesus speaks healing words and the man is cleansed, tells him not to tell anyone, but to present himself to the priest as a testamony.

I thought a lot about Jesus words. The words of cleansing as well as the words of restoration. I think I only listen to the words of cleansing but ignor the instructions to health. I want to be driven by the master in a full state of restoration not on a trailer pulled. Testamony is dynamic, not underglass in a display case.

I need to spend more time with the priest, so that the words of restoration from Jesus would have as much an effect as did the words of salvation. I know I am saved, but I need to be restored... And then driven.

The Kitchen...

I like to cook. I love to eat good food. Food that is prepare well. Food Channel type food. I like the preparation, the design, the eating. What I love the most about cooking is being with cooks. I love the conversation. It is a small world but it is global. Every where has cooks, even the third world. That says something. Even where there is poverty someone's cookin'.

My grandmother Biaselli was a great cook. She would fix an incredible Thanksgiving meal. (Any meal was incredible but since she lived in Philadelphia and I live on the west coast, I only got out there for holidays.) It would last for two days. Thursday night was the Traditional, turkey and such. But Friday would be the South Philly Italian feast. That is where I discovered pepperoni loaf. A cinnamon roll type meal, where instead of cinnamon and sugar rolled into the middle, you put in an egg-provolone cheese-garlic-basil-pepperoni mixture. Let bake in a loaf then cut into slices. Maybe include a bowl of tomato gravy for dipping. We also had Braciola, a rolled stuffed flank steak cooked in tomato sauce, not to forget all the sausages, ravioli, spaghetti, bread, wine, antipasti, and incredible desserts...

But the best ingredients of any Italian meal is the conversation in the kitchen and then around the table. In the kitchen the conversation is a bit quieter, more intimate. "How are things?" type conversations. Relationship conversation. Not for the public but for the kitchen. Now the Italian dinner table is a different story. It is at full volume! Passion. Intensity. Laughter and opinions fly. Pillaging of the serving dishes is expected. You attack, get your plate full, then you eat and talk. Lots of laughing. Lots of arguments. Life. Forks with ravioli on the end pointed in accusation. Good theater.

Then back in to the kitchen to do the dishes. More conversation and the intimacy is back. Washing and drying, standing right next to each other at the sink kind of conversation. Topics that started before the meal or hinted about over the cheesecake. In the old days the kitchen was occupied by the women of the family. Now it is a combination of both sexes. Same conversations though. Even men can get intimate in the kitchen (don't go there). Lives shared between participants. It is more than the food that nourishes.

The kitchen...

Right Jamie? Right Dan?

Warning: Outside processing!!!

I am wondering about leadership these days. I was invited to be a part of a leadership weekend for some college students and it is causing me to think a lot about being an agent of change. I think that leadership should affect change. Can change take place and what does it take to make it last? It is easy to make changes. Run your car into the side of a building and you have made a change. But is it the kind of change that is needed. At what point do we make a change that causes a new course to be followed. Does it take new personnel, new facilities, new clothes, new location, new job, or what? I am wondering these things because I need a change, I am at the end of me again. I think Calvin Crest is at the end of me. Something needs to change in order for something new to take place. Does it call for a new person in my position or a new position in my person? Do I need to change? Do I leave and do what I do at a different place or do I change, by allowing this location to facilitate some of the change?

The easy thing to do is leave. But the change needs to take place within me first before it can take place outside of me. Maybe the outside doesn't need to change, only me. I will start there. I need to lose weight, so what has to change in order for that to happen? I can read books, go to seminars, talk about it with friends and family, but will that create the change needed? Change doesn't come from talk, it begins with talk. I have to begin action on my own.

Real change cannot be cosmetic I think it has to affect the DNA. We have consumed so much and have so much at our disposal that if we don't like something we quit and go to the next place until we find something we approve of. Moving on is easier than staying and making change. We find that the easiest thing to do is move on. Change the environment, location, personnel, menu, consumption, conversation, but do not change the behavior, the mind, or the heart. We need to change our hearts, align our thinking patterns, and reach deep into our soul to make real change. It requires commitment to do that which is best, that which is right. Virtue. Regardless of the cost. Am I still willing to pay the price of change.

A real fear in me right now is not change but decline. Decline into a cynic. A sideline sitter. A half empty philosopher. Put back on a suit. Take out my earring. Start a comb-over. Give up on the youth. Wear more polyester. Watch Dr. Phil and Oprah. Drink lite beer.

Today I read from 2 Peter 1 and I want to live a life of abundance in grace and peace. That means watching for the potential for change in me and seeing the potential of change in others. Believe in the second chance. Believe in the possibility of redemption. Peace is being in harmony with grace. Not fighting it but moving with it. As a body surfer moves with the waves. Harmony. It is different than conforming. It is having a place and allowing others their place.

I don't know if this makes any sense but I wanted to get it out of my head for a little while. I posted it last night but it was too confusing so I retrieved it and worked on it for a while this afternoon...

A new season begins...

I went back to work yesterday for the first time since summer. Still a bit pneumoniatic but it was so good to be back with my friends. I truly missed them. I missed the conversations that we have. I miss the smell, the walks between the office and the dining hall. I missed thinking in a certain way that had to include the Kingdom in to my thoughts.

When I was home, sick and wasting away (actually I gained 10 pounds because I ate a lot of ice cream), I couldn't engage my thoughts with anyone else's. Blogging is alright but it doesn't provide any stimulus because it is a one way conversation. Thoughts need to co-mingle with other thoughts and build a corporate thought. A monster thought. One with wings. Thoughts that causes others to think. Thoughts that have a control room ready to launch the action.

Many thoughts are going to the Gulf Coast. I went to Von's yesterday to buy some ice cream and cookie dough to make some "pazuki" for dessert and some non essential items like vegetables. Out front there was a table with four or five women sitting around and behind it selling baked goods for relief for the flood victims. They had great smiles on their faces. Thoughts turned to action turned to smiles. I bought a cupcake. I helped. I gained another pound for the flood victims.

I wonder what thoughts we have today will turn to anything tomorrow...