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Tony Campolo, who writes as prolifically as anyone (except maybe Phillip Roth and some Romance Novelists), and a couple of years ago he wrote a book after surveying a large number of people who were over 100 years old. He had three main points after surveying them: they wished they had risked more, spent more energy to leave a legacy, and reflected more.

I have been praying and thinking about growing stronger, mainly in the area of reflecting (the other two I don’t struggle with as much).

This year I have been struck over and over and over by the Fall. My street curves and the colors are wonderful (and I have a thing for curvy streets).

I have a good friend who was recently admitted to the hospital for grief and anxiety, I have friends who have been wounded deeply by their church and cannot see straight because of it, I’m beginning my first sermon series ever (in front of a church on a Sunday morning)… And, I am still struck by Autumn.

Thoughts? Are you better at reflecting when your life is chaos? Does the Fall touch something deep in your soul?

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I love the idea of books. Sometimes I also love books. I wrote my Senior Thesis on the Brothers Karamozov (even though I did not finish it for months). I think I received a “c” on the paper.

Now, I’m reading it with a group of guys and enjoying it even more.

As I have said before, it often seems as though everyone around me is drowning, and sometimes it seems like the water threatens me also. Alyosha, (the youngest of the brothers proper, second youngest really) is having a similar day – his brothers are scheming or scoundreling, his mentor lays dying in the same room, his father a reprobate, and a random crippled woman from his childhood has just professed her undying love for him.

These are Dostoyevshy’s words as Alyosha lays down in his cell at the monastery, “He slowly replaced the note in the envelope, crossed himself and lay down. The agitation in his heart passed at once. “God have mercy upon all of them, have all these unhappy and turbulent souls in Thy keeping, and set them in the right path. All ways are Thine. Save them according to Thy wisdom. Thou art love. Thou wilt send joy to all!” Alyosha murmured, crossing himself, and falling into peaceful sleep.”

I prayed this prayer last night, and will likely pray it again…

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Do I really need to comment on this pic?

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So, I commented on another blog and it was all deep and heady stuff. Not really, but I didn’t get to talk about my daughter. The other blog gets like 3 billion hits a day, and i suppose that means people would rather discuss religion, philosophy, people than my daughter. But, as for me and my blog… we would rather talk about Caroline and maybe tie it in to something else…

We went to the park yesterday after I spent most of the morning engrossed in my studies. Caroline likes the park, there are things to climb on, steps to go up, three slides to go down (one she can do with me just waiting at the bottom), a squirrel that sort of bounces (although he/she recently lost a handle), a very strange rock/paper/scissors game, and four swings (two for small kids, two for kids who know how to swing).

She is pretty good about telling you where she wants to go, asking for help and all that. So, we move to the black swing (for little people) and she swings on it for about 15 minutes. Keep in mind she is 17 months old – NOTHING holds her attention that long (except for a few choice books – Go, Dog Go and a book of 9 stories she refers to as “Timmy” because the first story is called “Busy Timmy” – more on Timmy Later). I am pushing her pretty high (mom wasn’t at the park), and she is alternating between regular swinging, leaning back and looking up, leaning forward and looking down. She’s not laughing a ton, but she is smiling and saying “Whee-Uh” a lot. I become concerned she may get sick so I take her off.

Instead of going to the slide (s) the wonky-Squirrel (usually her second choice after swinging), the climbing stuff (she can climb one of them), or the bouncey bridge we go to the Yellow Swing (still for smaller kids), and she says “S-ing s-ing!”, so we swing in the Yellow Slide for about 5-7 minutes. I take her out not wanting her to have left the park without sliding, etc. So, she takes my hand and leads me to the 3rd swing (for big kids), and we do that oen together for about ten minutes.

It was awesome, I have to hold her with one arm and remember when to bend my knees and when to straighten them but the sun is setting (beginning to anyway), she is talking to me, “Hi Daddy, hi daddy, hi daddy… Timmy, Oh Timmy, Timmy, Timmy, Oh Timmy Oh Timmy…” (Rachel and I think she is sad for Timmy because if you pay attention you notice Timmy knows no actual people and lives a very sad life).

At the same time we are within 30 minutes of bed-time so I again set her down on the ground thinking we can slide a few times and maybe go to the bridge (Dad is good at shaking the bridge). Nope, on to Swing Number Four… She actually tries to climb into it which was awesome because it is over her head, but no one told her so she is grabbing it and trying to swing her leg into it…

I think she likes to be held, but there must be something else going on (cartoons, a swing, a book). Caroline is one of two very fortunate people who I really like to touch and be touched by (my wife being the other) – this is unfortunate for our cat, Batman. Therefore, it was wonderful to just swing for awhile. This park is shaded so we didn’t sweat a ton, it is a relatively pretty park with a big field between us and the sun. There were other dogs so the nice melody of our dog, Ron, moaning to womp the other dogs simply added to the afternoon. Okay, the last part was sarcastic… Nevertheless, it was a wonderful trip to the park. We didn’t need to play hard, we just needed some quality time with Dada…

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I preached this morning at church (www.riversidestl.org if you’re interested there is an MP3). My mom, sister, step-dad, and nephew were here for it. My wife was gone over the weekend till my sermon… I have a Greek Mid-Term tomorrow.

The beginning of this blog sounds like the line from “Risky Business”. “I have a Trig Mid-Term Tomorrow… I should be at home studying. Instead I’m being chased by Guido the killer pimp… I think I’m gonna throw up… I think I’m gonna throw up on you Joel.” The last part was just so everyone knows my brain is pretty funny when it comes to movie lines.

Caroline is discovering a lot about the world. The picture I failed to capture was about 1 minute before this one when the water hit her in the face. To say she was either happy or sad is adding emotion – she was surprised. She was more curious, but more thoughtful also. Hence, ‘I want to touch it, but I don’t know about how close it ought to be.’

Sometimes she mixes words together like “Happy-Tired” which is how I feel right now. It was a good weekend. I’m not super-worried about making a high A on my test tomorrow (see previous blog post), but I feel weary. I have energy, but feel drained in general…

Today I feel tired towards the aspect of life that gives you things you sense you must do well (in this case Greek III), and things you are passionate about but have trouble finding the time for (in this case the Sabbath Study I am doing). But, I will keep pushing – to pass Greek 3, continue reading and writing about rest, and to be present in all relationships. That last bit is because I like hanging out with my daughter andthe rewards go up when I just watch her, follow her around, read to her when she wants to be read to – a lot. Lately a book about “Busy Timmy”.

I still see and sense many friends and family members drowning around me. I feel mature in knowing how little I can, and how much the little I do often means.

I wish to be inspired, but offer myself the grace of sleep and the rewards that come with perseverance towards the things like Greek (obligations) and things like an independent study/book project on the Sabbath (joy). And the grace of sleep…

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I think grades are hilarious. Every time I receive a quiz, test, or paper back my heart rate goes up just a little and I get some chills. Not because I like grades (or definitely not because I make straight a’s – haven’t since 4th grade), it is because my life, efforts, and thoughts have become quantifiable in a precise manner (relative to the professor).

I know a lot of people are sort of addicted to school and learning, and I know a lot of people associate school with Hell. I think one of the reasons is that we do work (which is not, in and of itself, unique) and then someone grades it.

At work we are (hopefully!) reviewed. We may be reprimanded, given a pat on the back, given a raise, given a demotion, given some kind of ultimatum, etc. Generally though ,it is somewhat abstract and we can come up with reasons (we do this in school too) why things worked out the way they did.

One of the things that separates school is the forgettableness of it. My COmputer is currently telling me that that is not a word… FYI. We get our grade, it makes us happier, sadder, more frustrated, and then we move on (unless we have to take the class again). I just think it is interesting.

I recently turned 30 and am in school again for the first time since December of 2000 (when I graduated from college). It is harder and easier, I’m better and worse at it, I care less and more (all of these comparisons could be explored in a different – less abstract blog), and it seems funny to me how I react to a quiz when I get it back.

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It seem I have a lot of friends who are drowning. One called tonight… I still haven’t checked my messages.

Caroline (my daughter) and I were having a rough time with her sleep routine. The problem, as I see it, was that she loves for me to read her books (she loves for everyone to read her books, but as her dad I get to do it a lot). So, I asked Rachel what she does and she says when Caroline fights drinking her Organic Whole Milk – Rachel sings to her for a few minutes (usually “I love you Lord”) and Caroline will then drink her milk.

I tried it. After Knuffle Bunny (A Cautionary Tale by Mo Willems) and The Going to Bed Book (Sandra Boynton) I offered the milk. It was refused. I held Caroline close to me and sang her MLK by U2. It was pretty interesting. She fights a little, but she hugged a little too, and she rubbed her eyes (THE sign of tiredness). Then she drank her milk and went to sleep.

I have probably done this 5-6 times since Rachel coached me back to a solid bed-time delivery, and every time I want to blog about it. I want to talk about Safety, parents and their accompanying issues, my baby girl and how I am the king of cheesiness in what I sing to her… But, sometimes I get on line and read other people’s blogs about George Bush, the sunrise or if they want to buy a fiat… Some of them seem like very important things that we ought all to be talking about. Some seem interesting, but hard to relate to.

I think I am still chewing on hearing Donald Miller speak about six months ago. I wrote down a bunch of my fears and goals for this year. The summer is big for both of them… I am also still chewing on Tony Campolo saying that in a series of interviews with people who lived to be over 100 they almost invariably said they wish they risked a bit more and reflected a bit more… And something else. I blogged about it a couple of years ago… I like reflecting on my daughter, she is squishy and innocent and fun. Today she said “Go dog Go” from a book. I will pray for my friends, the ones who seem to be drowning and the ones who don’t, I will pray for my daughter because she will not always be like this, and I will pray for my heart that I will not fear.

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So, an older gentleman turned pretty quickly over a single white line and hit my front wheel of my motorcycle about two and a half weeks ago. Yes, I’m fine. Bike? Not so fine… State Farm called yesterday and said they would pay me 3400 for the bike (more than I paid, don’t tell), or 2400 and I get to keep it – then i would have a salvaged title.

I was already planning on getting rid of it, but taking off the license plates and knowing I will never ride (at least this one) again was hard. I think a lot of it is the little kid in me (little boy might be more appropriate) who is sad that he is losing a toy. I think there is some entitlement (as though my bank account won’t love the money – which will go straight to school loans!) in there… And, I will miss it. IN the final few weeks I had taken to riding with my visor open to feel the wind. I had found several back roads where I felt alone. I was unable to talk on the cell phone or listen to sports or NPR – very relaxing.

There are many reasons I felt very good (till yesterday) about getting rid of it. But the cathartic nature of this particular blog is not to debate but to mourn. Good bye to my bike… basic, fun, dangerous, often-not-seen by elder men, a pain to maintain and even to ride (takes longer to get places because wifey doesn’t like me on the high way), but a motorcycle nonetheless. If I ever see John Eldredge again I will ask if he is disappointed in me…

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My wife and daughter are with the in laws because I had a retreat with 4,5,6th graders this past weekend, and now they are getting some things done while I study for Finals. It is relaxing, but never as much as I think. Partly because I miss them, but also because I still buy into what Brueggemann calls, “techno-therapeutic, militaristic consumerism” which is his description of our society…

But, I’m working on it.

2nd Blog – Looks like the same one because I don’t have another picture that I’m dying to put up…

I have so many friends who are hurting. Two family members who are in great physical pain… So many friends who seem to be near-drowning emotionally.

A couple of years ago I would have been more interested in fixing them, now it just makes me sad. I’m just amazed by the lack of wholeness in the world and the apparent seamlessness within the Christian Community. It does not seem to me that “we” are more or less whole… It seems that we cannot grasp, or drink in, or embrace, or understand or realize the words of healing and truth of Christ…

Is wholeness possible?

I’m not even writing this bummed out, I just wish I knew how to go into my tent (mine isn’t pink) and sit there and rest… I do desire and need and will continue praying for healing for my many friends who are drowning physically, psychologically, emotionally, spiritually…

One of my older brothers said that my blog is inspiring. He was talking about posting on his own site: greenegenes.net But, then someone else said that the picture of Caroline and I at the Ocean looks like one of those posters with a ‘hard-to-follow’ quote at the bottom.

I have to say. There is nothing like having a child to remind us that there are wonderful things in the world. Furthermore, she is amazing to watch. She can climb stairs, has started talking (not to us, in English, but talking nonetheless), and you can actually see her thinking (about things like: should I army-crawl or regular crawl, eat all the cheerios or one by one…).

What I’m saying is, life is pretty amazing (and also pretty dark – but I’m not writing about that). I think I wish I were still learning and growing at the rate she is. My friends and family would certainly appreciate it I think.

What is amazing to you? Even if today was difficult… What is beautiful?