Post-script from 1 November 2008

My friend and fellow NaBloPoMo participant Marc la Porte has raised some interesting concerns about the Christian celebration of Halloween in his first post of the NaBloPoMo (Kiss Halloween Good-bye).  Perhaps you might be interested to read his thoughts... and to hear my response to his thoughts (which I originally left as a comment on his blog, but have also decided to copy here:

...I would agree that it’s important to come to one’s own convictions about Halloween (and other particular issues like it), and I can absolutely respect (the) convictions (of one who feels that it's best not to celebrate Halloween)… But for myself, I don’t see the celebration of Halloween to be a big issue — at least not as far as costumes, candy, and pumpkins are concerned (the Ouija board is another matter entirely).

For me, Halloween is more of a cultural celebration than a spiritual one (some Wiccans or Neo-Pagans -- and Christians, for that matter -- might feel otherwise, but not the average citizen). And viewed as such, I don’t feel it deserves to be treated separately from what we see with Christmas trees, Easter eggs, and presumably phallic symbols like the Washington Monument (in Washington D.C.) or the World War Two monument (on the Dam in central Amsterdam) -- all of which seem to have their roots in ancient idolatry. All I mean to say is that it can be tricky to figure out where to “draw the line” separating good/fun/cultural from evil/dangerous/spiritual.

I only mention this to suggest other, alternative, potential “Christian” responses to Halloween. In everything, we simply need to check our hearts and make sure that we’re not swerving from pure faith in Christ and Christ alone. For some, maybe this line needs to be drawn such that observances of Halloween are skipped (and I’m totally OK with that)… But it could also be that lines need to be drawn around other things that most Christians would never think twice about (interpersonal dynamics, thought patterns, financial management principles, food consumption, etc.) -- but which actually pose a much graver danger to one’s worship of Christ.

What are your convictions about Halloween? I'd be curious to hear if there are yet other "Christian" responses to the holiday out there...

October 29th is a significant date to remember in times of economic uncertainty.  Historians typically point toward the stock market crash of October 29, 1929 as the starting point of the Great Depression... And now, exactly 79 years later, many people can't help but wonder if the world stands upon a similar precipice.

I honestly don't know what to think of the whole buzz about our current "economic crisis."  And quite frankly, I try not to think about it too much.  

But today, I couldn't help but take interest in an unusual prayer initiative here in the city of Amsterdam -- with a diverse group of Christians gathering together to visit the Amsterdam Stock Exchange and pray for the world economic situation.

It just so happens that the Amsterdam Stock Exchange (now officially called the NYSE - EuroNext, ever since its buy-out by Wall Street in 2007) is the oldest stock market in the entire world, having been founded in 1611.  And considering the colonial history of the Netherlands, links can also be made from the Amsterdam Stock Exchange to the New York ("New Amsterdam") Stock Exchange -- which is, of course, currently the largest and most powerful market in the world.  So considering these things, it felt kind of significant and strategic to spend some time praying for the financial systems affecting everyone from de Wallen, to Wall Street, to the rest of the world.

I'm really not sure what our prayer initiative accomplished on the global level (this is the tricky thing about faith and spirituality, of course).  However it was, in any event, an fascinating and fruitful personal experience to visit the famous ''Beursplein 5" and pray together with 30 others for hope and stability in times of desperation and uncertainty.  Again and again, when "I lift up my eyes to the hills (wondering) where does my help come from?" -- I'm reminded that "My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth.''

I'm pretty sure (though not completely confident) that Europe is under there somewhere.

I'm very seriously considering a vow of non-complaint -- not permitting myself to complain about the weather at least for the month of November (in hopes of forcing myself not to dwell on the negative).

But it's not November yet (although the weather certainly makes it feel like it is)!  And I'd be lying if I said that it isn't challenging to look at the weather forecasts for the upcoming week and see nothing but this.  They're saying that there's even a chance for snow showers on Thursday or Friday (just in time for the real November).  Yikes!  Snow would actually be better than rain.  But may I suggest that sun would be even better still?

Marco Pauws is not only one of my best friends.  He's also an incredibly gifted photographer with a very promising future.  And to this end, it was exciting to be able to witness the opening of his first exhibition -- a series of photographs entitled "The Cost of Progress" (Marco's write-up of the series is here, and an example of some of the images featured in the exhibition can be found here).

"The Cost of Progres" is currently on display at the H88 (Herengracht 88) in Amsterdam, and will be remaining there in the Gallery/Lounge until the end of December.  Even if you weren't there at the grand opening last night, I'd highly recommend a visit to the exhibition.  And by all means, if you'd like to support the work of this promising young artist, feel free to become one of his patrons (all of the work featured is also for sale).

It was also just cool to see some of the ways that our church community is finally starting to hit its stride in being able to encourage, support, and stimulate the arts.  Our Art Community took the lead in organizing the exhibition (and its Grand Opening).  Two of the guys from my home group helped with serving as digital DJs for the party.  And our ministry facilities turned out to be a beautiful venue for an exhibition such as this.

I couldn't help but remember all the work that went into making the H88 what is now is.  This Gallery/Lounge room especially.  It was one of my pet projects during the renovations of the space (though, of course, there were a lot of people who all came together to make it turn out so beautifully), so of course I'm especially pleased to see the space finally being used for its intended purpose(s).

Yesterday evening made me proud of our ministry space, proud of our church, and -- most significantly -- proud of my good friend Marco.

I've had a number of friends e-mail me over the last year or two with a link to an article about this guy in the Netherlands who has built a replica of Noah's Ark, more or less following the instructions of Genesis chapter 6 (though it's actually only half the length and a third of the width of the original Ark -- which gives you some idea of how massive the original really must have been).

Today, our family took advantage of the kids' Fall Break from school and traveled to Kampen (about an hour and a half away) to experience this Ark for ourselves.

It's about what I expected, for the most part.  Fiberglass animals in wooden cages...  Pictures and stories about the original Ark displayed on the walls... As well as a gift shop and area with vending machines for candy bars and coffee (probably not true to the design of the original Ark).  Kind of touristy -- but still, pretty cool.  Especially for the kids.

And although the Ark's "Ararat" is in Kampen for the time being (see picture below), I also happened to run into the man who built the Ark (not Noah -- the Dutch guy) and get into a bit of conversation with him... only to find out that Amsterdam is the next Ararat!  On November 3rd, the Ark is going to be sailing to Amsterdam and docking somewhere near the Westerpark.  If you might want to go and see it, you can visit the website for Stichting Ark van Noach and find all the relevant details there.

Last week, in preparation for our church's monthly home group leaders meeting, I was trying to compile some resources for worship within a small group setting... and I was surprised to discover the lack of quality information on the internet for this topic.  Honestly, I had figured that a half-hour's worth of googling would give me more than enough material to pass along to our home group leaders in the form of ideas, links, and synapses of the possibilities.  But after an hour of frustrated scrolling through poorly-designed, hyper-polarized, inefficiently-organized content all along the vast frontier of the world wide web, I was left with very little quality information that I would actually want to pass along to our church's home group leaders.

So I decided to make my own simple summary of a handful of possibilities.

Using the few pieces of quality information that I had discovered and brainstorming some of my own ideas from my own personal experiences with alternative forms of worship (outisde of just music), I pulled together a brief listing of a few interesting (though not exactly ground-breaking) forms of worship that seem to work well in a small-group setting.  And considering the fact that others might be in the same situation that I was in last week, trying to use some search engine to scour for similar information, I figured I'd post my list on the internet and create some cross-traffic to point others to the site.  Including, potentially, some of the readers of this blog.

The results can be seen in the Spirituality section of the Amsterdam50 website, under the heading "Home Group Worship."

I'd go ahead and copy it here, except that I think it may actually make the listing more findable if people have to criss-cross the internet and follow links to get there.  Perhaps it's a silly idea -- but I figured it was worth a try.  Let me know if you end up trying any of the ideas in your own ministry setting... or if you've come up with other ideas and resources that could be added to the mix.

 These images (and the italicized text) are from the American Festivals Project.

On the right, a husband and wife couple.  “I’m so blessed to have a wife that supports my hobby,” he told me.

On the left, Samantha Sawyer, the 13x woman’s machine gun national champion.  As told by her father, she won her first national championship at age twelve wearing a winnie the pooh t-shirt.

An old friend of mine, Ross McDermott, is currently traveling across the United States of America -- partially funded by a National Geographic Young Explorers Grant -- visiting bizarre and random local festivals across the country and cataloguing his (and his friend's) adventures on the internet.  It's a brilliant idea... and an absolutely fascinating site.

I'd highly recommend a visit to the American Festivals Project.  In particular, his recent post about the Knob Creek Machine Gun Shoot (in West Point, Kentucky) is amazing.  The pictures above are portraits posted in conjunction with this post -- but there are a number of great action shots as well.  It's crazy.  Quite literally un-be-liev-a-ble.  I think Europeans would find it especially intriguing.

I finally completed my absentee ballot and sent it in the mail today.  I had filled out most of it over the weekend, but only decided today who my choice for President was going to be.  Furthermore, I've decided that I'm not going to publicly declare the candidate for whom I voted...

Except to say that his last name includes the letter "A." :-)

I did think it was interesting to note, however, that the instructions enclosed with my voting materials actually specified that my ballot (absentee though it may be) will actually be counted on Election Day (as long as it's "received by the close of polls on election night") -- not just thrown on a pile in a back room, only to be opened up and counted in the event of a razor-thin election margin.  I'm not sure if this is a newer way of processing absentee ballots, or if it's just an Ohio thing, or if the old mental image of the "back room pile" was just a sort of urban myth related to the fact that absentee ballots can be received and processed within 10 days of the election (as long as they're post-marked before Election Day).

Just thought you might be interested to know.

Last week (on Wednesday, I think), Marci captured the image here to the left of Elliot carving a pumpkin (props to my wife for the beautiful photography!).  The resulting jack-o-lantern was a festive seasonal decoration that graced our dining room table with its goofy grin for a couple of days thereafter.  At night, we would light the tea-light candle within the pumpkin's cavity, and Elliot and Olivia would "Ooh" and "Ahh" over its amber-glowing countenance.

But by Saturday, the lid to the jack-o-lantern had sunk in and dropped into the slimy innards of an increasingly moldy pumpkin.  It started to smell bad, and by the end of the day on Saturday, the mold was crawling out of the jack-o-lantern's mouth to the point that we decided it was time for ol' Jack to hit the road.

It was amazing to me how quickly it had deteriorated.

At another time this weekend, I was helping the kids to build the tallest, most massive, most impressive, most awesome lego space shuttle ever conceived in the mind of man.  And when we had finished the project -- using almost every lego piece we own -- I have to admit that the space shuttle was beautiful.  It reached up to my chest, and it had stairs, and racing tracks, and a jail, where a police officer perched on his own platform out to the side, waiting to throw any misbehaving space travelers into the "brig."  It was fantastic.  But again, within perhaps 15 minutes of its completion, the lego space shuttle was demolished -- deliberately and completely.

And again I was left to marvel at the rate of deterioration in our world today -- the way that things can so quickly sprout, blossom, bloom... and die.

For me, I can't help but compare these experiences to the onset of another Dutch winter.  November always seems to be the hardest for me, and it's almost here again.  It's a mix of seasonal depression (sunlight deprivation),  missing America, remembering tough Novembers from the past, and just dealing with the daily realities of the crappy gray weather of Amsterdam.  I wish that this deterioration of the seasons didn't have to come again so soon.  I wish that I didn't have to slog through another November.

But then again, I see reason for hope and encouragement in the lessons of the jack-o-lantern and the lego space shuttle.  I see that there are joys and opportunities in the passing of the seasons.  I see that the temporary nature of our little joys are perhaps an integral part of what makes them so joyful.

So I've made a decision for myself:  that I'm going to fight against the November Blues this year.  I'm not going to sit idly by, waiting for the depression to overtake me.  I'm going to actively try to deal with the melancholy and overcome it to whatever extent might be possible.   My ideas for exactly how this "overcoming" will happen are still in the formation stage... But I'm preparing.  I'm anticipating.  And in a way, I'm even starting to look forward to the challenge.

I'm going to spend the coming month actively searching for the Joys of November.  Thanks to Helen's advice,  I think I'm going to try and participate in the NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) -- posting something here on this blog every day for the entire month of November.  Partially because blogging is a hobby that I enjoy and that naturally refreshes me.  And partially because I feel like I want and need something to keep me looking -- searching for the small signficances, the Joys of November.

Stay tuned for more...

I've been thinking of Larry a lot lately.  I've been singing his songs to myself as I ride my bicycle, as I wash the dishes, and especially as I read the newspaper.

For the uninitiated, Larry Norman (1947 - 2008) was a musician, the zenith of whose career was in the 1970s.  Some have referred to him as the "Father of Christian Rock," though if you ask me, his music was not really what would typically come to mind at the mention of the word "Christian" nor "Rock (as he covered themes that most Christians would never touch, and the majority of his stuff is more folksy).

But I've been thinking about Larry Norman lately because of all the gloom and doom hanging in the air about the whole "economic crisis" thing.  A lot of his music really speaks to the fear, the panic, the instability, and the anxiety that seem to be almost palpable in our society today.  Depending on your perspective and predispositions, you could either hear Larry Norman's music and think, "Man, it's incredible how prophetic and ahead-of-the-times he was"... or you could think, "Man, it's crazy to realize that people were thinking about pretty much the same things and worrying about pretty much the same things over 30 years ago."  But in any event, I think the songs of Larry Norman are interesting listening material during the current season of doubt and disillusionment.

One song in particular keeps running through my mind.  It's called "The Great American Novel."  The story goes that once Larry Norman was asked to play at the White House for President Jimmy Carter.  Before the performance began, aides instructed the musician that he was not to play anything "too political or too religious" (which is very ironic because the vast majority of Larry Norman's music is very political and quite spiritually-charged).   So he responded by playing "The Great American Novel."  I've copied a few of the song's lyrics below, to give you a gist of the song's messages (which are remarkably applicable to the current state of world affairs, even though they were originally penned almost four decades ago!).  Read and see what you think...

You are far across the ocean
in a war that's not your own.
And while you're winning theirs
you're gonna lose the one at home.
Do you really think the only way
to bring about the peace
is to sacrifice your children
and kill all your enemies?

The politicians all make speeches,
while the news men all take notes.
And they exagerate the issues
as they shove them down our throats.
Is it really up to them
whether this country sinks or floats?
I wonder who would lead us
if none of us would vote...

And your money says in God we trust,
but it's against the law to pray in school.
You say we beat the russians to the moon,
and I say you starved your children to do it.
You say all men are equal; all men are brothers.
Then why are the rich more equal than others?
Don't ask me for the answers; I've only got one:
That a man leaves his darkness when he follows the Son.

Fascinating isn't it?  If you substitute the part about "beating the Russians to the moon" with "solving the world's economic crisis and saving the financial institutions" -- it's scary how applicable it is.  Isn't it?

I recently realized how often I criticize others with the phrase:  "Why don't you think of someone other than yourself for a change?"

There's also the popular variation of "Why doesn't (s)he think of someone other than himself (or herself) for a change?"  I don't tend to say this out-loud very often.  It's so clichéed and so "dysfunctional parent" -- so at least I stop short of spraying this criticism on others (even if it's only to keep myself from sounding like a big fat jerk).  But the fact of the matter is that I have this thought quite frequently.  More frequently than I would like to admit.

But it just recently occurred to me that when I say (or think) this, what I really mean is: "Why don't you think of ME for a change?!?!?"

I find this extremely ironic.  In the midst of criticizing others for being self-centered, I'm actually expressing one of the most self-centered wishes imaginable.  Turns out I am a big fat jerk, even if I don't always go around projecting in on others.

It's a good thing that God's grace is sufficient for me. :-)

Olivia had her first real slumber party / sleep-over this weekend.  Our dear friend Eva was having a birthday (her 28th), and she decided to celebrate by inviting over our little Olivia and another four-year-old friend Amelie for the girls' first slumber party ever.

To say that Olivia was excited would be an extreme understatement.

She started packing (for her one-night overnight stay) on Friday evening, and she'd ask just about every twenty minutes during the day on Saturday if it was time to go to her sleep-over.  She was all grins and giggles on the way over to Eva's house, and when we got there she just simply couldn't contain herself.  She gave big hugs to everyone, and then she and Amelie literally starting jumping up and down with excitement (as you can see from the pictures below).

And if all that wasn't cool enough, two other "big girls" (Jen and Naomi -- both in their mid-20s) also joined in the fun for the night.  What a way to celebrate a girl's first slumber party (Thanks for organizing such a fun event, Eva -- and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!)!

Then, while Olivia was sleeping over at Eva's house,  Elliot also got to experience a significant first:  the loss of his first baby-tooth!

He's been wiggling it and working it for over a week now, but finally -- in the middle of the night -- he awoke to discover that the tooth had finally dislodged itself.

Of course, he too was very excited about this development.

When it comes to Cor... well, I can't actually say that Cor experienced any particularly significant "first" this weekend.  But I did take some cool pictures of him at Elliot's and Olivia's school on Friday afternoon.  So -- just to round out the spectrum of photographs of my children -- I figured I'd throw a couple of those up on this post as well.

I look up to the mountains;
  does my strength come from mountains?
    No, my strength comes from God,
      who made heaven, and earth, and mountains.

I don't know if the world financial system is going to collapse or not.  Maybe our societal greed and short-sightedness is going to catch up with us... or maybe not.  Maybe we are on the cusp of the Second Great Depression, or the Great Repression, or the Greater Depression (or whatever you want to call it)... or maybe not.  I really don't understand economics all that well.  I do, however, know that panic, fear, and blame-shifting will not be helpful under any circumstances.  And in light of this, I was encouraged to read the above words from Psalm 121 earlier today... As well as the following words from Job 12:

"True wisdom and real power belong to God;
   from him we learn how to live,
   and also what to live for.
If he tears something down, it's down for good;
   if he locks people up, they're locked up for good.
If he holds back the rain, there's a drought;
   if he lets it loose, there's a flood.
Strength and success belong to God;
   both deceived and deceiver must answer to him.
He strips experts of their vaunted credentials,
   exposes judges as witless fools.
He divests kings of their royal garments,
   then ties a rag around their waists.
He strips priests of their robes,
   and fires high officials from their jobs.
He forces trusted sages to keep silence,
   deprives elders of their good sense and wisdom.
He dumps contempt on famous people,
   disarms the strong and mighty.
He shines a spotlight into caves of darkness,
   hauls deepest darkness into the noonday sun.
He makes nations rise and then fall,
   builds up some and abandons others.
He robs world leaders of their reason,
   and sends them off into no-man's-land.
They grope in the dark without a clue,
   lurching and staggering like drunks."

I was encouraged, at any rate, to read these words of calm and reassurance in the midst of these times of panic and angst.  Perhaps they might be encouraging to you, too...

My good friend Anthony Testa took the above photograph last week in Krakow.  One might say it's a telling characterization of me and my co-pastor (Todd studying the map seriously in the foreground; me stuffing my face and counting money in the background -- with our wives just kind of looking on beside us!) -- but joking aside, I really appreciate this image.  It's a moment in time, perfectly captured.  It was our free day in the midst of our week-long GCE pastors conference, and we were trying to find a bus to take us to the old Salt Mine, just outside the city.  Todd was on a mission to lead us toward our destination.  His steps were determined and quick.  Lindy said that he was in "goal mode."  He was pleasant enough to be around, but he wasn't going to relax until we had reached our destination -- at which point he could finally let up and enjoy the experience of touring the Salt Mine with friends.

Unfortunately, however, the city bus system had just been re-routed the previous day, to accommodate for some significant construction projects.  Thus, the guide book which Todd was carrying with him proved to be misleading.  And since we couldn't communicate very well with the locals (the language barrier in Krakow was very real and very challenging, in marked contrast to Amsterdam), we had to work together, employ some creative problem solving, and re-orient ourselves to find an alternative route to the Salt Mine.

In the end, we made it work.  We found our way to the Salt Mine.  And we had a lovely day together.  To be honest, though, when I think about that day in Krakow -- when I look at Anthony's photograph -- my feelings are very bittersweet.  Bittersweet:  because approximately six months from now,  Todd and Lindy are going to be moving on, moving out of Amsterdam, relocating back to North America.

Of course, I realize that this is the right decision for their family.  They've been thinking about it, and praying about it, and talking about it with me and Marci (among others) for a long time.  They certainly haven't taken the decision lightly, and I fully trust that God is leading them... From a church level, too, it seems that the timing is right.  We will certainly miss Todd and Lindy, but it seems that their departure may actually help to create a healthy vacuum that will help to develop other leaders within our community and facilitate long-term growth and multiplication.  I've seen this "vacuum phenomenon" happen several times previously, and I have confidence that it can (and will) happen again.

Still, I'm sad to realize that our time with these dear friends is limited.

Marci and I met Todd and Lindy at Great Commission Ministries' New Staff Training in January 1999 -- way back when Todd had short hair (believe it or not!).  The four of us quickly discovered that we shared a number of interests, and we had even been married within a week of each other (the year before).  After New Staff Training had been completed, Todd and Lindy returned to Colorado (to work with a campus ministry at Colorado State University) while Marci and I returned to Ohio (to work with a campus ministry at Bowling Green State University).  We kept in touch a little bit throughout the following years -- especially at conferences and such.  But it wasn't until 2001 that our paths truly converged again.  Their church in Fort Collins had found itself in a similar situation as our church in Bowling Green:  having grown a lot in the previous few years and looking to start a new church in a different city, and through a bizarre and complicated series of events, our two churches started to talk about doing a "church plant" together somewhere.

That "somewhere," of course, turned out to be Amsterdam.

In 2001, Todd, Lindy, Marci, and I were a part of a two-week exploratory trip to Amsterdam, helping to scope out the city and its potential for a church like what we might bring.  I distinctly remember walking the streets of Amsterdam with Todd even then.  We talked about what it might be like to live in the city someday.  We struck up conversation with strangers in the city.  We talked and prayed and wondered about what might happen.

But I don't think any of us had ever envisioned the scenario that actually ended up playing out over the following couple of years.  We all did eventually move over to Amsterdam -- the Watkinses in September 2002, us in January 2003 -- along with a large team of friends and strangers from the USA, the UK, and the NL... but that's about as far as our anticipation carried us.  Though Todd had planned on leading small groups and helping to establish a compassion ministry in the city, he ended up renovating apartments.  Though I had planned on leading small groups and developing video production capabilities for our church, I ended up painting walls and varnishing floors in the attic ministry space.  Over the first six months in Amsterdam, our roles in the developing ministry of "the Amsterdam Project" (which later came to be known as Zolder50) did gradually, eventually, change.  But in July of 2003, our trajectories were altered radically, completely, immediately, and incredibly -- all in the space of about a week.

When our church's founding pastor left, suddenly and unexpectedly, Todd and I were asked to step together into the role of "pastors in training" for the newly developing community in central Amsterdam.  We were to learn on the job, taking on all the roles and responsibilities of a position we were not expecting (nor necessarily even desiring), while continuing to deal with all the regular crap that comes with adjusting to one's first year living abroad -- having changed countries, churches, circles of friends, everything! Granted: we had an amazing team of people surrounding us and supporting us.  But still, it was not an easy undertaking.  To this day, that period of being a "pastor-in-training" proved to be one of the most challenging experiences in my entire life.

But it worked because I got to do it together with Todd.

Over the years, we've learned to depend on each other, stand up for each other (when others were criticizing us), speak plainly to each other and call each other to account (in private), and balance out each other's strengths and weaknesses.  Gas and brakes, spirit and truth, justice and mercy, "good cop" and "bad cop," yin and yang -- pick your cliché.  Todd and I are very different in many different ways, but we've sharpened each other, refined each other, and learned to trust and depend on each other through a wide variety of circumstances.  And God has blessed in the process -- both our church and our individual lives.  As already stated, I'm sure that God will continue to bless and provide -- both for our church and for our individual lives -- even after the departure of the Watkins family... But it will never be exactly the same ever again.  And I'm just trying to come to terms with that.

I realize that a sentimental retrospective piece like this might seem a bit out of place -- given the fact that Todd and his family will still be here for at least the next six months -- but it occurs to me that I'd rather not wait until the last couple of weeks before their departure to start processing my feelings about our relationship and the ways that things will be changing in their absence.

And since there were some fun stories to remember from last week in Poland -- and some especially good pictures to share from a "photo shoot" at the conference center (where I actually got them laughing while shooting) -- I figured I'd share a few thoughts about my friends... and then wait to see which way God takes us...

I got my absentee ballot for the 2008 general election in the mail the past weekend, and just today had the chance to open it up and look through it a bit... Nothing too unexpected in there.  Nothing too dramatic...

Still, I can't help but feel a sense of excitement and privilege at the opportunity to participate in the Great American Democracy.

Perhaps I'm still a bit too idealistic, a bit too romanced by the idea of the power (however small it may be) of a vote in the organization of the American (and specifically Ohioan) government... Some have told me that they really only count the absentee ballots if the election is close enough that their numbers might be significant.  Others have told me (and I've even told myself occasionally) that any particular vote really doesn't matter -- that the system, in fact, is so much more powerful than any particular candidate, party, or platform, and inherrently resistant to any kind of meaningful change.  Still others would choose to scorn the notion of the American "democracy" as an archaic, wistful remembrance of what once was -- suggesting that we're simply watching the sun set on the latest, greatest world superpower.

But there are others I know, whose passports are not issued by the United States of America,  who really wish that they could have a say in this fall's election.  Around the world, people are holding their collective breath -- waiting to see what will happen in this year's American elections... And when I realize this, it's special to think that I do have a vote.  That I can be a part of history (whatever that means).

I'm not a political zealot.  To be honest, I haven't completely made up my mind which oval I'm going to fill in for the presidential election.  I'm not going to try to convince others to vote one way or another -- and I certainly don't hold any notions that our world's "savior" is someone who will be announced in the 1st week of November.

But I think that it's pretty cool to realize the privilege that is ours, for those of us who get to be a part of the upcoming American election.  I, for one, am determined not to take it for granted.

I think Datumprikker.nl is one of the niftiest inventions on the world-wide web.  The site itself explains how it works:

Picking a date with a group of people can be a difficult task. Datumprikker.nl provides an easy solution to this problem.

In many cases you will need to make a lot of phone calls or send e-mails to find a date suitable for all participants. Create a event planner for your next meeting or event. Just select the possible dates and invite a group of people.

Everybody who is invited receives an e-mail with a link where they can easily respond to the suggested dates. As the administrator you can keep track of the progress and, once you have sufficient input, select the date.

The interface is very easy to figure out and use, and it really does save time (one of those things that the internet is always supposed to do but rarely actually delivers on its promises).  It's available in both English and Dutch.  I would heartily recommend this free resource (you can find the answers to some of the frequently asked questions here).  In short:  it's brilliant (and no, Datumprikker.nl is not paying me to write this post).

Just thought I'd pass along this little nugget that I've discovered and mined from the miraculous world of the internet...

It's fun when you return home, reuniting with your children after a few days of being away, only to see that the household has not only survived -- but thrived.  Thanks to some wonderful, wonderful friends here in Amsterdam (especially the lovely Leslie Phillips), our kids' week went incredibly well.  They made it to school each day, they ate good meals, and they had a lot of fun in the process.

When Marci and I got back home around noon today, Leslie had fresh banana muffins in the kitchen -- and we were treated with the opportunity to hear not one, but two new songs that Leslie had worked up with the kids over the preceding few days.  One was a guitar ballad (still in process), but the other one was a rap -- specially composed for the occasion of Elliot's friend Tobias's sixth birthday.  Perhaps you, too, will sppreciate Elliot's birthday rap to Tobias, so I've posted it above for your enjoyment.  You'll be surprised with how well it is done (Leslie is a gifted musician in addition to being a gifted babysitter).

Today is the concluding day of the Great Commission Europe annual Pastors Summit.  This year was specifically designated to allow for discussion of issues relating to marriage and ministry, so both husbands and wives have traveled in from as far north as the Netherlands, as far south as Italy, as far east as Ukraine, and as far west as Spain -- all converging in a small town just outside of Krakow, Poland.

In addition to teachings related to marriage, we also spent time praying for our churches and the Continent in general (this is one of the most revered traditions of the pastors summit).  Systematically, we pray church by church, country by country -- for several hours in the afternoon.  It's actually rather exhausting work... but definitely worthwhile.  We all seem to view this as a significant part of our work in Europe.

Then, for the balance of the time, we tend to focus on strategic discussion relating to the "business" (administration, organization, and communication) of Great Commission Europe... This part is -- if I'm being perfectly honest here -- quite challenging for me.  It takes me a lot of energy to engage in these strategic discussions.  A lot of energy, and a lot of coffee.

In the end, I've concluded that I have Conference Fatigue Syndrome.  Its symptoms do not become evident at every kind of conference -- but I definitely seem to be more susceptible at conferences relating to church planting, pastoring churches, and leadership in general.  Ironically, this personal predisposition to Conference Fatigue Syndrome (CoFaS) seems to be particularly rare among those in my line of work (pastor/missionary) -- but it is nevertheless a condition which I've learned that I must deal with as something of an occupational hazard.

The symptoms of CoFaS include irritability (occasionally building toward cynicism), fatigue (the longer the conference, the greater the fatigue), headaches,  and nausea at the sight of flip charts, strategic diagrams, or PowerPoint presentations (and/or at the mention of words like "vision statement" or "strategic planning").  The long-term diagnosis for sufferers of CoFaS is generally optimistic, though recurrence is common upon exposure to external stimuli such as conferences, seminars, and preparatory e-mails.

In examining my own struggles with CoFaS, I think a lot of it may have to do with my personal tendencies toward introversion (being energized more by solitude, reading, writing, etc. -- as opposed to long hours of conversation, group dynamics, and such)... But I also think it has a lot to with spiritual gifting.  Many pastors, missionaries, church-planters, and leaders are passionate about things like mission, vision, and values.  I am not (as unspiritual as that may sound, even to my own ears).  I much prefer day-to-day "battling in the trenches," advancing trench-to-trench, tree-to-tree, hedgerow-to-hedgerow, village-to-village (please forgive me for all the WW2 terminology; I'm currently reading through Ambrose's history of D-Day).  I fully value and believe in the need for greater oversight, strategizing, and planning -- like what the regimental, divisional, and operational leadership provides in war... But I, for one, am happy when I can let others play that role.  Now, I realize that my roles in church leadership sometimes require me to "wear hats" that are not the most comfortable on my head -- but all that just goes to explain why I might be so susceptible to Conference Fatigue Syndrome.

I'm not complaining (well, OK -- maybe I am complaining a little bit).  I'm just trying to deal with the realities of my life.  But at least I get to do it in a beautiful location, with my beautiful wife and good friends alongside me.  And that, though perhaps not a cure for CoFaS, is at least a pretty good treatment in the midst of it.

Marci and I are traveling in Poland this week.  We've been spending most of our time in conference sessions, but today we got to tour picturesque Krakow a bit.  We saw some magnificent buildings and an incredibly unique network of underground caverns and cathedrals within the old salt mines.  But perhaps my greatest amusement of the day came from seeing a number of billboards advertising for an electronics store called Media Markt.  Take a look at a (rather poor-quality) picture of the billboard here below:

What do you think of the spokesperson pictured?  Is it supposed to be male or femaile?  A child or an adult?  And what exactly is he wearing?  Gym shorts (very high and tight) with a pastel-striped polo shirt?  And could it be that his (her?) legs are actually shaved?  And why is this person advertising for Media Markt?  Is he supposed to be kind of cool, or kind of geeky and funny?  What could possibly be the meaning of this advertisement?

For the heck of it, we used an on-line translator to try and decipher what the text might mean.  The result:  "I gave everything of himself... but it has only birthday price."

Perhaps this is not even remotely amusing to anyone else -- but I figured I had to put it up on the ol' blog for my own enjoyment, if nothing else. :-) 

The middle chapters of Nehemiah portray such a powerful picture of spiritual battle.  So beautifully and so graphically illustrated.  The remnant of Israel has scraped together enough courage, manpower, material, and momentum to start rebuilding the wall in Jerusalem after over 100 years of disrepair and decrepitude.  It's a beautiful moment in Israel's history.  They're pulling together!  They're making it happen!  The City of David is rising again, like the mythical phoenix, from the ashes of utter destruction.  Quite literally.  If these chapters were represented in a major motion picture, the arm-in-arm teamwork of chapter 3 would be accompanied by a dramatic swell of the orchestral musical score, soaring crane shots, feel-good goosebumps raising on the forearms of everyone watching and witnessing the miracle of hope resurrected.