Face-Hurting Smiles!

About a year ago, Sarah was asked if she'd be involved in a local program developed to help children with special needs work on critical movement skills through games and laughter.  Sarah immediately said yes.  Every Saturday she began playing, talking, and laughing with her young friends.  And every Saturday, she started coming back full of stories and smiles.

Not too long after Sarah started doing this, she was asked if she'd spend an extra hour on Saturdays coaching the Special Olympics basketball teams for their upcoming tournament.  Sarah genuinely knows very little about basketball.  But again, she quickly said yes and added to her Saturday and to her stories and smiles.

I have always been happy that Sarah decided to do this.  It's cool to see my wife's heart begin to flourish and to see her doing things she loves.  But Saturday mornings are usually pretty busy for me--premarital counseling, paperwork, etc. usually take my center stage.  Because Saturdays are pretty busy, I had never been to the facility or seen Sarah and her young friends in action.

But just this last weekend, the much-anticipated regional basketball tournament happened at Lincoln High here in Lincoln.  Sarah and her three teams were gearing up with the basics and supplements of the game, and Sarah studied the "actual" rules of the game to make sure she was up to speed.  At one point, Sarah asked if I thought I might be able to come to the games.  I quickly said yes, having already decided I could not miss this big event.

Sarah left early Saturday morning to get situated and get her teams together.  After a painful morning of organizing my pastor-tax mess, I jumped in the car to see the games and watch "Coach Kennedy" in do her thing.

It's been a long time since I've smiled so much.  It was easy, unnoticed, unhindered joy.  I watched haphazard dribbles, quirky passes, and shots that usually missed the rim and backboard, come one after another.  But regardless of performances, I saw smiles, determination, and pure enjoyment.  I watched a young coach with very little game experience cheer on her players and encourage them.  I watched as both teams often came together to make sure someone had a chance to shoot a basket, even if it took the player several repeated attempts in the middle of the game.  And as the occasional point was scored, I watched loving parents cheer and young athletes' faces light up.  There was very little ego on the floor; only a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.

The games each lasted 20 minutes, and as I sat on the floor at the long end of the gym listening to the clock alarm announce the game's end, I realized how much my face hurt.  I had been smiling for 20 minutes at a time.  It was wonderful.  I fell in love with what Sarah was doing and in love with the joy of the athletes.  It was good to be there, and I left with a sore, but blessed set of cheeks.  Amen.

More to come!

Jason <><

Master of Joyful Critique

As Sarah and I prepared for our wedding, we noticed a particular pattern emerge that we laugh about now, but that challenged us quite a bit at the time.  Sarah would share a grand idea for the day with excitement and energy, and I would respond with the details that would need to be considered, that would usually lead us to conclude the idea wouldn't go.  Sarah would remind me she wished I would just be excited for once, and I would reminder her my role was to do the critical thinking that would keep us safe.  We understood this, but it wasn't working.

We jump ahead (almost) a few years later now, to the "buying our first home together" event.  Once again, Sarah shares her excitement and dreams about the home we both have agreed is our top choice, and once again, I respond with details to consider and reminders of reality.  And once again, my poor wife reminds me, "I know the details, but I'm excited.  Can you be excited with me?"  After hearing this on a few different occasions, I realized I needed to make a crucial change.

I come from a family of critical, grounded, and careful planners and thinkers.  As a rule in my family, our excitement for something needed to be equally matched by a list of cautionary points and reality checks.  That's how we knew we were moving forward in a wise, un-impulsive manner.  In general, this has served me very well in my personal, professional, and faithful life.  I recommend the practice to anyone who seems to have big ideas, but often ends up in messes instead.  

BUT, the practice of always offering overly-careful critiques and the need to minimize risk at all points can be equally as damaging as being too frivolous.  It runs the risk of killing the Spirit and minimizing God's blessing to a mere equation of risk and probabilities.  

I have most clearly learned this in the last week as we consulted our families for their thoughts on the house our hearts have locked onto.  Their opinions are crucial to us.  As our families came to see the house, we received mixed reviews:  some loved it, and others reported notes of caution and details on potential concerns.  We looked into the concerns and resolved nearly all of them.  Yet, the opinions of caution hadn't changed much, and they were weighing heavily on our decisions.  It was at that point I found myself uttering these words, "The details check out.  It would be nice if everyone could just be excited about this."  

Then it clicked.  I heard myself saying about others the very thing Sarah had been saying to me.  It's good to be critical and ask the tough questions.  It's good to dig into a decision with a keen eye.  But living in that world entirely will kill both the human and the Holy Spirit.  I was doing just that!  Contrarily, if we live solely by the book, we need to find the life of whimsy and welcome it.  If we live solely by the moment, we need to find the life of discernment and welcome it.

So now that Sarah and I both know the details of what we're up against with the house we like, I have learned the delicate art and joy of just dreaming and imagining.  It's wonderful.  I don't have to worry about the costs of things or the actual plausibility; nor do I even have to worry about things we talk about ever coming into reality.  We'll figure those things out as we go, as the Spirit leads.  

Until then, we'll dream; and it's wonderful!

More to come!

Jason <><

Growing Up

Most of last week Sarah and I were in Denver.  Sarah was there with some of her classmates on a "girls retreat," and I was there for my winter Alumni Board meetings for my seminary.

Usually when I head to Denver in the winter or fall for my board meetings, I conveniently find time to head to the slopes or tackle a 14er (a mountain reaching over 14,000 feet in elevation) while I'm there.  Both skiing and climbing are my passions.  I dream about skiing more consistently than any other theme in my dreams.  It's what I do, it's something I feel I'm particularly good at, and these trips are typically the only chance I get to ski or climb each year.

But this trip turned out differently.  I chose not to go skiing.  It was amusing watching my usual skiing buddies  who still living in Denver struggle with my decision.  "Are you sure?  I can get you a $40 lift ticket!  You can borrow a pair of my skis that should fit perfectly.  I'll drive; you don't have to worry about that.  Do you just want to go back-country skiing and not pay the lift prices?..."  Choosing NOT to ski is pretty out of character for me.

But I gave them my reasons, and as I heard myself sharing, a particular delight came over me.  I realized I was making really good, healthy, and wise choices, even if it meant giving up something for a season that has been central to my identity since I was four.  I was taking care of myself and my family.  In that moment I was feeling awfully grown up!

These are the reasons I didn't go skiing this year:

• Sarah and I will be purchasing a house this spring.  If we're truly committed to this, we need to let our savings show that.  It may be small, but $300 extra went into our house fund this week!
• Life for Sarah and me is often quite intense in Lincoln, and simply moving from one intensity to another was going to be unhelpful.  Simply slowing down and being with friends appealed much more.
• Sarah has only skied once before and wasn't terribly interested.  Actually spending time with my wife rather than leaving her for the slopes was a choice I really needed to make.
• The temperature high on the slopes for the days we were there was projected to reach -2 degrees Fahrenheit.  Enough said. 

Although I had yet another skiing dream just last night, I'm still thankful I had the insight not to go this year.  There will be other times and days yet to come, and Sarah and I benefited from the time together.  Amen!

More to come!

Jason <><

Broncos, Where did You Go?

I grew up a Broncos fan.  I'm still a Broncos fan.  I'll remain a fan even now, after the game is over.

Of course I won't pretend to know anything about the internal game or challenges a team faces in a Superbowl situation, under that sort of pressure.  But as I watched the Broncos fall apart yesterday, some thoughts came to mind:

• Although a Superbowl game is a little more polarized in terms of who wins and who loses, in many ways the Broncos' and Manning's loss remind me of how so many people perceived Jesus' activity among the same way we do Manning's.  The primary reaction during the game in the group I was with was "I think the Broncos forgot to put this game on their calendars."  How many of the Jews and Pharisees were also thinking the same thing with Jesus?  They constantly asked for signs, wondered when the revolution was actually going to start, and asked why he wasn't saving himself if he was so powerful.  For many, Jesus didn't seem to show up to the game.  I think many might feel as though he isn't showing up to the game now either.  I'm pretty sure the Broncos didn't choose to lose yesterday so they could make a deeper, more profound statement.  But I'm also pretty sure that Jesus DID and DOES.  It's up to our deeper-discerning hearts to see what that statement and activity is.
  
• As I made direct, eye-to-eye contact with Peyton Manning during the game, thanks to the assertive close-ups from the camera crew, I wondered what it felt like to be the man shouldering the win or loss of the game, and what it would be like today for him (the day after).  How do you wake up the next day?  Where do you go?  Who do you talk to?  Who, what, where do you avoid in an effort to maintain some sort of dignity and composition?  It's true most of us don't regularly find ourselves in one of the biggest single sporting events of the year.  But many of us DO find ourselves feeling as though we're shouldering the weight of the big win or loss when it comes to our jobs, our families, our finances, our health, etc.  As a pastor, the thought of losing the game is one of the most terrifying fears.  Yet, each of us is called to keep our dignity, embrace our losses, and find solace in that pain, knowing it has not cost us our whole life if our lives are in Christ.  But I often wonder, where does a person start when trying to keep this truth?
  
• Lastly, I realized toward halftime I shouldn't have made fun of the Seahawks yesterday (Feb 2) in my message.  Revenge is too sweet for some to pass up.  Oops.

More to come!

Jason <><