Poo poo

My youngest son has two imaginary friends. Our other two children did not have any imaginary friends, but not my son - he has them. Their names are "Poo poo" and "Pee pee." Yes, you heard correctly - "Poo poo" and "Pee pee." When I come home, I ask him how his day was and my youngest will share something like this, "I punched Poo poo in the face." Out of curiosity, I have to ask, "Why did you punch him in the face?" He would respond, "because he pushed me" or "we were arguing about who would play Battlefront first." I am thinking that you don't want to mess my son. Yet, he never blames anything on "Poo poo" or "Pee pee." When there is a mess to clean up and asked who made it, he simply replies with, "I don't know." Sounds like he is copying his brother and sister. Why he has two imaginary friends, I don't know. Why he has decided to name them after bodily waste, again I have no idea. Did we emphasize potty training too much? These imaginary friends may be because he enjoys making us laugh. He enjoys life, running laps in the house, wrestling with his brother, getting angry at video games, laughing at everything, and talking about Poo poo and Pee pee. I still have to wonder why. I have to chock it up as my boy wants to be in relationship and will do just about anything, including imaging friends. It is all good. We will share the details of these events later in our journey with his future wife. God has wired us to be in relationship with him and others even if that means imaginary friends.

Risk

At Sojourn on April 6, Rick spoke on Luke 10:25-37.

This story starts out as a conversation between Jesus and a scholar of Hebrew Law about how to inherit eternal life. The scholar reported that the culmination of the law was, "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind'; and, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'" This conversation climaxed when the scholar asked, "Who is my neighbor?" Jesus grabbed the opportunity to tell a story, "A Jewish man was traveling on a trip from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he was attacked by bandits."

I have wonder out loud, or at least through this blog, "Why in the world would this guy choose to take this trip alone?" This was a dangerous road from Jerusalem to Jericho; a road where convoys, caravans grouped together so they would not travel alone. The locals named it "the bloody road." Why would he choose to do this journey alone? Was he a part of a larger community or was he excluded? And is that why he couldn't find anyone to take this trip with him? Wasn't it a huge risk to take this trip alone. Or, possibly he didn't ask for anyone to come with him, didn't ask for anyone to help. I have to wonder, isn't the greater risk, admitting that we need help and can't do life alone?

I know that I can't do life alone.

Holy Thursday

I was invited to preach at a friend's church on Holy Thursday 2008. The worship was centered on the Seven Last Words of Jesus. Mostly this is limited to the tradition of the Good Friday where usually either pastors or lay leaders speak. Good Friday and seven last words happen almost like clockwork from 12 noon to 3 pm with pastors speaking for approximately 10 - 12 minutes. At Fairview Community Baptist Church, however, my friend coordinated efforts to have the seven last words on Thursday night, and have people from surrounding communities speak. We had a 20 something male lead the music, 2 chaplains, a teenager, a teacher from Asbury Park, pre-seminary student, and a caregiver. I was probably the longest speaker that evening (sorry can't shake old habits), and everyone gave a succinct, inspired message. I simply was overwhelmed with what was happening; I was learning that in a few words, depth can be communicated.
As a part of worship, we shared in communion, bread and juice. One of the pastors of the church gave the introduction that evening. During communion, she led us in spontaneous song and the singing had to be the most beautiful that I have heard for years. Some songs that I have know, others that I have not, yet, could not help but sing. These songs were praises to God, out of gratitude for what God has provided for her. This pastor, an African American female, has experienced life, and not the best parts of life. Because of her race, gender, and culture, she has experienced difficulty, the harsh reality of life. Yet, she is singing fully, reverently, and filled with confidence that her Lord will provide for her again and again. At that moment, my life did not seem so difficult and harsh as I believed that it was. Being without a house for a year and living with Aunt Sue was an experience that I should have appreciated more. Our children sleeping all in the same room was a unique experience and one that could and will shape my children positively and give them funny memories for a lifetime. Every morning Luke would crawl into bed with Aunt Sue ("Bubba"). I should have sang, been singing Blessed Be Your Name. Not singing, of course, because well that would be good, but you get a sense of what I saying. I should have prayed as in the Lord's Prayer, "Thank you God for giving us this day our daily bread." Simply enough, my life was not bad at all. Spoiled brat. I learned much about God who had the grace to put up with my whining for that year. I wasted too much time wallowing and not enough time living in those moments and experiencing life as many do in the world around me. Big deal that we had one bathroom and 3 bedrooms. We had a home with a lot of grace and love, food to eat, and our family healthy and goofy and loving living with Bubba (Aunt Sue). We learned a lot about ourselves, about one another, and more importantly God ... if we stopped long enough to listen and see glimpses of His grace.