A Two Goal Lead is the Most Dangerous Lead...

naomiandstick781 , originally uploaded by origen00 . We went to the state fair on Friday, the last day of vacation, and my excellent picture taker sister in law snapped this great one of Naomi finishing off my deep fried Snickers bar on a stick. It was delicious! I wasn't sure what to expect, but I have to say, I was impressed. Be Well, A+

So the drives home lately have been relatively quiet. I imagine that some of what happens in the car and some of what is said is pretty noteworthy, would be entertaining, but most of that has been hashed over so much in the past two years that it is no longer entertaining to me or Sara as it once was. You hear it a couple hundred times and its funny, then it eventually stops being funny. Anyway, Eliot and Naomi both have taken to answering my once brilliantly disguised question, "So, what happened at school today Eliot/Naomi" with "Nuthin." Seriously, Eliot says "Nuffing" and Naomi just sits quietly, or says, I played with my kids. That is something that is cute beyond measure, whenever we are talking about school and their classmates, we don't call them friends, we don't call them classmates, or anything like that, the other children at school are identified by E & N as "my kids." Now I am not sure if this is a good thing or not,

When we first started taking the kids to daycare, or school as we call it, Eliot and Naomi both had a really tough time. Eliot sat in his corner in the bathroom, crying for, as he put it, 40 minutes. I understand now about the significance of the number 40 in the bible. 40 days, 40 nights, 40 years in the desert. 40, biblically speaking, means a VERY VERY VERY long time. Not actually 40 days or 40 nights, it just means that the people experiencing the pain and agony of that moment experienced it for a very long time. Eliot was in great pain and agony for 40 minute everyday, we still haven't quite figured out what happened, or even what motivated him to end his pain, I like to think it was one of the young women he has grown fond of lately. Naomi, on the other hand, simply didn't talk, she didn't interact with the kids, just sat around sucking her thumb and holding her blanket and sitting, I assume, in the lap of her teacher. We discovered Naomi's plight one day whe

I'm reading a book called "blink" which is about the fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a second decisions our unconscious makes in our lives. It is the millisecond when we know something is right or wrong, real or fake, etc, etc... For me, I was most in touch with that split second process when I was coaching soccer. I knew exactly when a goal was going to be scored, about 2 seconds or so before it actually happened. I could tell by the curve of the ball, or the location of the forward, or the misstep of a defender. I just knew. Therefore I was the first to cheer when one of my girls scored, or the first to groan and turn my head when we got scored upon. I just knew. Long after I had stopped coaching that ability remained until one day when I realized I was a bit rusty. I still remember it well, I hit a shot about as well as I have hit one before, it was about 25 yards out and the thing just knuckled and knuckled, there was no way it was going to miss, headin

We have members in the Garden who have a dear friend who lives in LA. In March, a few weeks ago, the mother gave birth to a beautiful child, named Madeline. Shortly after the birth, Liz, the mother, died unexpectedly. It is a tragic story, and AJ & Sonja, Madeline's Godparents, and members in the Garden, shared with me the story of Matt and Madeline and Liz. Today we raised over $400 to help Matt and Madeline meet at least some of their needs and prepare for a future without Liz. I just finished reading the blog that Matt is keeping about life with a new child and in the wake of the death of his beloved, and cried, and cried, and cried. I am sure it brings up for me some of the vulnerability that has never and probably will never heal over from the experience of Eliot's leukemia. Matt is an amazing man, and if you would like to read some of his story, go to: http://www.mattlogelin.com/ , but I warn you, have tissues and prepare to weep. There is great hope in the for

The other night I watched a movie called Heart of the Game. It is a documentary about a young African American women’s experience as a High School Basketball player in Seattle. She decided not to attend the school she lived next door to in favor of a white suburban school across town. It is a compelling story, and quite inspiring, I recommend it. One of the most effective things the coach of her team did was create what he called the inner circle. He believed part of his job was removing parents and other adults from the decision making processes these young women had to go through in order to create a team. He realized after he had implemented this plan that it meant he could not be a part of the inner circle either, being an adult. In the four years of this documentary the young women had to deal with tremendous decisions that would effect their season, chemistry and many other aspects of their game and lives on as well as off the court. Each player, at some point in the movi

I usually pick the kids up in a big room called: "The Commons" at Daycare. It is the place where they throw all the kids together, all ages and let them run rampant after 4PM because of rules and regulations which I won't get into right now. Suffice it to say, its always loud and crazy and wild. Eliot was standing in there one day, looking just fine, until I arrived when all of the sudden the flood gates opened and the tears poured out. Apparently one of the big kids had scared him pretending to be a fox, the poor kid didn't know how to respond so when I arrived he just cried, ran into my arms and sobbed. I told him next time to pretend he was on a horse with a big rifle hunting foxes for his family to eat. Just kidding, I would never do such a thing. Or would I... I did tell him to be wolf and howl and bare his claws and teeth. It seemed to calm him down a bit. Another time in the commons, as I arrived, a big kid came up to him and said, "I like your sh

Eliot just finished his last steroid pill this morning. Every month he gets 5 days of steroids, and while he does not turn into the little hole-in-the-stomach-eating-machine-with-a-temper monster anymore, he still is affected. Sara probably will hate me for this, but I am quite fascinated each month by how he changes during the steroid time. We will often say to people, when he is acting crazy and wierd, its the steroids. Most of the time people laugh and think we are joking, of course, it gets a bit awkward after that sometimes. No, really, he's on steroids. This month has been different than most in that he has been more clingy and attached to the hip, mostly of momma, not me, for some reason this past week or two, daddy mania has drifted away and I am no longer the exciting one to be with, momma has replaced me. Anyway, on Monday I dropped the kids off at “School”, that’s what we call daycare, school, they learn things there, like how to punch and kick and beat the crap out

I bought two doughnuts for Eliot and Naomi after my meeting at a local coffee shop on Monday and thought it would get me a lot of good points to give them the treats for the ride home. These were not just regular doughnuts, they were chocolate covered, with lots of sprinkles on top. The woman who served me there asked the question after I told her they were for my kids, not for me, "Why is it that kids absolutely love sprinkles, its not like they taste like anything, they just are colorful." We concluded that scientists everywhere had spent enormous amounts of time studying the pheromone reactions of children to eating sprinkles. Anyway, I left, excited to be able to give the kids their treats and was jazzed about to hear what they would say. In the car, I told them I had a present for the two of them, Naomi freaked out laughing and laughing and laughing, and as I reached into the big and pulled out the doughnut, she screamed in great delight. When I handed Eliot the dough

Driving into the Rosedale Mall parking lot I got stuck behind some horrible drivers, seriously, they were swerving in and out of lanes, stopping in poor places to stop, going as slow as they possibly could. After about 3 blocks of this I said, not too loudly, but loud enough to be heard, "What the..." That's it, just "What the..." Nothing more nothing less. As soon as I finished saying the..., Eliot screams at the top of his lungs in the back of the car, "HELL!!!" Then he continues screaming, almost singing, "What the Hell! What the Hell!!!" Not to be outdone, Naomi had to join in the fun as well. "What the Hell! What the Hell! What the Hell!" I know this one is my fault, because that is the one little habit I have never been able to give up, along with my use of the word damn. As part of the ground rules I used to make in Youth Group for my Sr High group, I would say, no swearing allowed, except for hell and damn. Hell beca

So Wednesday was a big day. Naomi at one point, some time after our conversation about weird and strange people, started waving at the people in a truck next to us while we were stopped at a stoplight. The two men in the big bad truck just stared, men have a way of not seeing that ultimately astounds me. I know, because I fall into that category often. She was waving and waving and waving, her hand held high, she became quite exasperated and disappointed these guys who were staring right at here weren't waving back. I asked her if she thought they were weird and strange, her response an emphatic and loud, "YEAH!" After which she continued to wave at everybody.

Eliot has taken to wearing a pink dress lately, dancing to the soundtrack of Juno, and other music, and just fully enjoying his life at home as a ballerina. It has been a joy to watch and if I can get the videos off my phone card someday I will post them, much, I am sure, to his eventual chagrin. On the drive home yesterday, Wednesday, I was talking (to myself) about how Church people have to have names, I said out loud, "everyone has to have their own name!" Eliot responded, "why do people need their own names daddy?" I said, probably entirely inappropriately, "Because people are weird and strange Eliot." For the past couple of days I have been working on creating a disk of reflections by Desmond Tutu that I can give as a gift. One of the reflections is titled "People are Wonderful". Bishop Tutu talks about how in all his life the one thing he has learned is that people are wonderful. Eliot responded to my weird and strange comment not with

I realized the other day that I had an opportunity to blog that I had been missing, and might just be the kicker to get me a little more motivated and in practice to get some things written here and what not. My life has drastically changed recently with Sara taking a new job at Target. I take the kids to Daycare M T & W at 8AM and pick them up at 4PM those days as well. suffice it to say, my usual pattern of getting through the days has changed. Anyway, the rides to and from Daycare everyday offer up wonderful little bits of joy that I thought I should share with you all. I will call it, ON THE DRIVE HOME... My first post will follow this one. Be well, A+

Reynolds Price is a novelist, he writes from a wheelchair because of a rare spinal cancer that almost killed him 20 years ago. He wrote a book called “A Whole New Life” in which he writes about the healing vision of Jesus that he believes saved his life. In an interview with the Oxford Review he said, “When you undergo huge traumas everybody is in league with us to deny that the old life is ended. Everybody is trying to patch us up and get us back to who we were, when in fact what we need to be told is, You’re dead. Who are you going to be tomorrow?” Who are you going to be tomorrow? Most of us will walk into work tomorrow morning after having spent time with family, time that for some of us might be excruciatingly painful, and for others, sweet joy and happiness. But most of us will walk into work on Monday morning and enter into our old lives, follow our old patterns and in the end be unchanged by this earth shattering event that has happened. What if, instead of walking from

And Mother’s everywhere are cringing at Nicodemus’ words, imagining their children crawling back into their wombs… The fact that Nicodemus came to Jesus in the night is significant in the writing of John. It is significant because it symbolizes the theme that runs throughout the Gospel of John, the theme of Light and Darkness. The light is always being challenged by darkness, and of course, the light always wins when it is Jesus, but for those disciples of Jesus and those disciples that follow Jesus long after John has left this world, it is a different story. Disciple’s today struggle as much as anybody has with the challenges and the evil that darkness brings. Nicodemus’ questioning of Jesus in the dark is significant for another reason. Conversion always preceded Baptism in Jesus’ time, and the early Church. They often did not have infants to baptize as we do today. They often made people go through the intense formation in the weeks leading up to Easter, as we hear on Ash We

I was selfish yesterday. Ash Wednesday is the only service that speaks louder than the scriptural texts it has at its core. Looking back at past sermons I have rarely preached on the texts themselves, and mostly on the numerous movies and pop culture references to the beginning of the penitential season. Not so much on the different texts. I realized last night, at our 7PM service, that my sermon touched the Isaiah and 2 Corinthians readings more than it did the Gospel, so the 7AM and 12N people must have been a little baffled about why I was saying what I was saying... But back to being selfish, I decided to be the one to put the ash sing of the cross on everyones forehead. Sandy did my head, but I did everyone else's. And in my drive up to Grand Marais I really tried hard to figure out why I was so compelled to do that. I really love Ash Wednesday, there is no other season of the liturgical year that marks itself at the beginning with such a powerful symbol. We usually jus

The Rev. Aron Kramer 2 Epiphany January 20, 2008 How many of you here today are Aries, born between March 21 and April 20? The animal symbol of Aries is the Ram, but that, it turns out, is only a recent phenomenon, it was known for many years as “teleh”, which to the Latins, meant “male lamb.” The book of Revelation identifies Aries as the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David. The sign of Aries was always pictured as a male lamb with its head reverted backwards, looking over its shoulder at the emerging Taurus, the next constellation arising out of the cosmos. Only a being with a broken neck could look over its shoulder as the animal sign for Aries does, and yet, the sign shows the lamb still standing, still upright even with its neck broken. It becomes quite clear then that Aries was the perfect choice with which to identify Jesus and his life that would eventually be broken on a cross, only to see him standing upright again as a resurrected being, looking back as we fo

I like this song by Rob Thomas, and it is an interesting addition to the study. Are their songs or poems that you know of that speak about the city? Send them to me and I will post them! The city is where we work out our corporate life, becasue the city is where we gather, where we come together, all walks of like, all people, all of us. It's morning I wake up The taste of summer sweetness on my mind It's a clear day In this city Let's go dance under the street lights All the people in this world Let's come together More than ever I can feel it Can you feel it Come on over Down to the corner My sisters and my brothers of every different color Can't you feel that sunshine telling you to hold tight Things will be alright Try to find a better life Come on over Down to the corner My sisters and my brothers there for one another Come on over Man I know you wanna let yourself go Some people It's a pity They go all their lives and never know How to love or to let lo

Then Cain went away from the presence of the Lord, and settled in the land of Nod, east of Eden. Cain knew his wife, and she conceived and bore Enoch; and he built a city, and named it Enoch after his son Enoch. Genesis 4. With the story of Cain and Abel, everything about cities seems to get off to a very negative start. It seems that they are founded out of restlessness, out of wandering. It seems that they are rooted in being cut off from the land, and murder and violence and blood. It seems, at first glance, that the opportunities for cities are nothing but dread and death. At first glance they seem to come out of everything that is antithesis to God and community. But when we stop and look at the story closer, many more questions arise. Why did God mark Cain in such a way that no one on earth would be allowed to kill him? Why did God allow Cain to go off, seemingly of his own volition, to start a new life, away from his family? Finally, the biggest question of the whole te

So, I have been wanting for some time to have regular posts and what not, but have never really been able to get motivated about it in one way or another. So one of my work new year resolution is to take 2 hours or so a week and blog two different things. First, the title of this post has been a phrase that has been clinging to me for some time, so I am going to do some Bible Study on the word and concept of "the City" in Scripture. I want to see how cities functioned in the OT and the NT. I want to listen to the Word of God and hear how this line, "The City is where we work out our corporate life" can change or transform or affirm our minstry here in the Garden in Downtown Minneapolis. I imagine it will be both fun and wonderful, and challenging and difficult to hear, but I want to try it. Second, the BCMS stuff is still out there, and after spending all of Advent studying it with members of the congregation there are many things to say and to think about. S