Four score and seven years ago our fathers family brought forth, upon this continent, a new nation household...

It was exactly seven years ago that our family moved from Ohio to Amsterdam.  It feels like a very long time -- considering how these years represent over 20% of my life, approximately 60% of my marriage, and nearly 100% of my children's lives... But it also feels like a very short time -- considering how much life and ministry has been packed into the time period.

It can be sobering to consider all of the people, all of the prayers, and all of the sacrifices that have been put into this "Amsterdam Project," through the years.  The words of Lincoln's Gettysburg Address (quoted/adapted above) seem remarkably appropriate, considering all this context.  This day of remembrance feels somehow heavy, solemn, and yet simultaneously beautiful and profound.  So today we are remembering.  Reflecting.  And most important, Realizing.

Have you noticed that we have a very unique opportunity coming up for developing self-discipline?

The month of February is just 3 days away.  And what's really cool about this year's February is that it starts on a Monday (beginning of the month coinciding with the beginning of the week).  Furthermore, because it's February -- with the month consisting of exactly four weeks (as opposed to the more typical four-weeks-and-some-change that we find in other months) -- the month is basically broken down into four full work-weeks, stretching from Monday to Sunday.

And if this wasn't cool enough, there's the added psychological bonus of February being a short month.  Still a decent length of time.  But not a "whole" month.  Just a tidy little, neatly-packaged four week period... Perfect for a trial period.

As I've been remarking on this phenomenon with other people over the past couple of weeks, it seems like there really is something to the psychological advantages of trying some new form of self-discipline for the month of February 2010.  Maybe you want to try some sort of dieting strategy... Or exercising... Or developing a habit for daily Bible reading... Or prayer... Or financial management... Or whatever!  To me, it seems like something worthwhile for all of us to consider.  Is there some  kind of self-discipline that you want to develop?  I personally am considering a plan for re-strengthening some old, dormant "memorization muscle" committing a certain number of Proverbs to memory, verbatim, each week during the month of February (in tandem with my Proverbs 365 reading campaign).  But what about you?  Are you going to use the month of February in any kind of strategic way?  You've still got a couple of days to think about it...

The Dutch are crazy about their waterkokers (literally:  "water boilers").  From a Dutch perspective, it is the only way to make hot water for tea.  For the first several years that we lived in the Netherlands, our family did not own a waterkoker.  Our family doesn't drink tea all that much to begin with -- but if we ever needed it, we figured we could just heat water up in the microwave.  It really wasn't that hard, and we felt like we got by just fine -- even being able to offer hot tea to our guests -- without the waterkoker.  But our Dutch friends were completely baffled by our ability to live in a home without a waterkoker.  We'd get the strangest looks when doing our microwave method of water-heating, and just about every Dutch babysitter we had stay with the kids would call us at some point in the evening to ask where we kept our waterkoker.  It really is considered to be a standard piece of equipment in any kitchen.

But what's strange is that waterkokers are not very common at all in the United States of America.  As far as I'm aware, there's not even a commonly accepted English term for such a device (which is why I keep going back to the Dutch word, "waterkoker" instead of any kind of English equivalent).  It's not standard at all.  Millions of Americans live the entirety of their lives without ever knowing about the marvels of a waterkoker.  What the Dutch consider indispensible is obviously not indispensible for everyone.

I have to admit that I felt very critical towards what I perceived to be the Dutch lack of creativity in heating their water... until I realized that the Americans are equally hung up on their own cultural biases when it comes to kitchen appliances.  The best point of comparison that comes to mind is the garbage disposal.  A large percentage of American homes are equipped with a garbage disposal -- installed underneath the kitchen sink, able to pulverize and puree any sort of food waste that gets (either intentionally or unintentionally) pushed down the drain, to be flushed out with the sewage.  Like the Dutch with their waterkokers, most Americans consider their garbage disposals to be essential and think it's weird or gross if they have to handle their waste products any other way.

However, garbage disposals are completely unheard of in the Netherlands.  Garbage disposals in the Netherlands are probably even less common waterkokers in the USA.  In fact, Dutch people would probably consider garbage disposals to be wasteful and environmentally unsound (I read a book recently, in Olivia's classroom, which talked about the harmful effects of putting anything other than water down the drain).  So clearly, garbage disposals are not anywhere near as necessary as the American public seems to think they are.  Millions of Dutch people live the entirety of their lives without ever knowing the marvels of a garbage disposal.  What the Americans consider indispensible is obviously not indispensible for everyone.

I'm not pointing all of this out to make any kind of value judgment (i.e. that labels of "right" and "wrong" need to be affixed to either culture).  I just think it's fascinating to notice the differences.  It goes far beyond waterkokers and garbage disposals, too.  I had a long conversation yesterday with a Dutch friend of mine who insisted that it's impossible to use what I would call a "cordless drill" for drilling holes in walls -- because his understanding is that the cordless devices are merely electronic screwdrivers and that all corded devices are drills.  They're two completely separate things, in his mind.  And while he's right that some jobs do require a heavy-duty corded drill (particularly if trying to drill through heavy concrete), I also pointed out that most jobs (drilling through wood, metal, drywall, and brick) are entirely possible to do with a cordless "screwdriver!" (since I've spent the last year doing many of these types of drilling jobs with just such a device).

One culture's "impossible" is another culture's "of course."  I don't know why it works that way.  But it does.  We stand to learn a lot if we can pick and choose from a smorgasbord of cultures, rather than entrenching ourselves in one particular point of view.  Easier said than done, I'm sure.  Still it's definitely worth the effort...

I like the flexibility of my job.  Sometimes, it can be challenging (lack of routine, lack of built-in accountability) -- but mostly, I consider it to be a blessing.  My "office" is everywhere.  Meetings and conversations can take place in cafes and restaurants and homes.  Computer work can take place in cafes and libraries and other public spaces (thanks to the miracles of laptop technology).  But I have learned, over time, that some spaces are better than others for working.  Noise, light, cost, accessibility, electrical and internet access -- all of these factors affect the working environment.  So I thought it might be interesting, and maybe even a bit instructive, to share some of my favorite "offices" around the city of Amsterdam, along with a few of their advantages and disadvantages.  Here are my top five:

1) The Stadsdeelkantoor (City Hall) for Amsterdam Oost - Watergraafsmeer.  A spacious, ultra-modern building only a couple of blocks from my house.  It has about a dozen private vergaderruimtes (meeting rooms) with a small desk space, comfortable seating, good lighting, relative quiet, and easy access to electrical power outlets.  It's also cheap (free).  Theoretically, a person could get kicked out of the space by someone with a reservation -- but this has never happened to me, and most of the time all of the rooms are completely empty.  There's no open access to wireless internet -- which can be both an advantage and a disadvantage.  In almost every way, it is a superior workspace.  I'd only say that the lack of internet access can be troublesome at times, and the hours of operation are limited (purely 9:00ish to 17:00ish).

2)  Koffie in Oost - A pleasant cafe with great coffee, a great view out over the Ringvaart canal, and a very friendly and personable staff.  It's also quite close to my house, and they genuinely don't seem to mind if I sit there and work for hours at a time.  Wireless internet is available -- and of course, (pretty tasty) food and beverage service is also available.  Disadvantages are that the place can get pretty busy (and thus noisy) at times, the menu is a bit pricey, and they've got a couple of pesky cats that are always trying to jump up on the customers' laps.

3)  The Onze Lieve Vrouwe Gasthuis (Hospital) - Definitely some disadvantages here:  no internet, no available desk space, and the admitted weirdness of working in a hospital.  But it's also very close to my house, it doesn't cost anything to sit in there, and it's a beautiful building with great natural light and a hushed sense of anonymity.  Thus, it can be a nice space for catching up on some reading (out in one of the many waiting areas) or some quiet time of reflection (in the beautiful, white-stoned chapel).  I also like the fact that it's a place where you can palpably feel the connection to the rhythms of life, similar to the Stadsdeelkantoor.  I feel a kind of creative energy that comes from working in spaces like that.

4)  The H88 (our church's ministry center / a.k.a. my "official work space") - The H88 has some nice amenities -- with some of the comforts, familiarity, and privacy of home, while still being someplace separate and out of the flow of regular life.  The rent for the space is paid regardless (no extra money out of my pocket).  Wireless internet is readily available.  It's a natural meeting point for other ministry contacts.  However, one of the main disadvantages to the H88 is that it's got this rare dynamic of being either "too full" or "too empty."  If other people from the church are there, I have a hard time getting any administrative / computer work done; but if no one else is there, the place feels very hollow and cold (and it's also, literally, kept at very cool temperatures throughout the week!).  Some days the distance factor (a 15 minute bike ride from my house) is an advantage -- giving me some exercise and transition time.  Other days, the distance is annoying (especially if there's inclement weather).  It's a good place to have as a part of the mix, but I'm glad that it doesn't have to be my full-time office.

5) Home - Clearly:  comfortable, convenient, and close.  I have all the tools I need to work.  For meetings, there's definitely something nice about the hospitality factor.  And of course, working at home allows Marci some extra flexibility for running errands while kids are napping or that sort of thing.  But working at home can also be very distracting -- particularly with three small children running around the place, and it can also become harder to "leave things at the office," when it comes time to transition out of work mode and into family mode.  Again, I'm glad that I have the flexibility to work from home sometimes -- but I'm also glad that I don't have to do it all of the time!

So those are my top five "offices" here in Amsterdam.  Hopefully it was interesting in that it gives a little glimpse into my life -- and instructive in that it might provide some ideas for other Amsterdammers looking for work space (or for people living in other cities to consider similar venues).  My second five might include:  the central Openbare Bibliotheek Amsterdam (Public Library), the Coffee Company on the Middenweg, the Coffee Company on the Van Woustraat, the Cafe Winkel on the Noordermarkt, and the Koffie Salon on the Utrechtsestraat.  Would anyone else have any other good tips for work spaces around the city?  As you might be able to tell, I always like to collect information about little spots like these.

Our church is going through a season of transition right now.  And as I was thinking about all this church transition stuff, it made me think of my old days in my high school's marching band.

Yes, I realize that it's a very odd association.  For those who aren't familiar with marching bands, they're a part of the American football phenomenon, where musical entertainment comes out in the middle of the football game, during half-time, to put on a kind of show.  If it sounds kind of weird, well, that's because it is kind of weird. Even in America, people in marching bands are considered a little bit weird and geeky (and I can only get away with saying this because I used to be one of those weird and geeky people in the marching band!).  But it's tradition, so everyone kind of goes along with it.  Anyway, the way that a marching band performance works is that you've got a group of maybe 50 to 100 musicians (big tuba-like Sousaphones, trumpets, drums, trombones), and they're all marching around on the football field, creating an interesting visual performance while playing their music.  The whole thing basically works with the band morphing from one shape into another.

For instance, maybe they’re doing a half-time show on big Hollywood movie music... They might be playing the theme song from the Pirates of the Carribbean movies, for instance, and then march into the shape of a big pirate ship, as seen from up in the stadium.  And then, maybe they switch into a song from Batman, and then they move around and everybody changes places to make the famous bat symbol.  Or it could be more basic stuff, too -- like circles and diamonds and other geometric shapes... But this is basically how marching bands work.  It’s all timed to the music so that the coolest shapes come out at the most dramatic swells in the music.

But what’s fascinating to me about marching band performances (and what brings me to the analogy that I’m trying to draw out, here) is what they have to teach us about transition.  It’s amazing, if you think about it, that a group of musicians can take the shape of a pirate ship... And then you take the same set of musicians, and they can also take the shape of the Batman symbol... Or a circle, or a diamond, or the word “Ohio” or whatever!  However, if you’re watching a show, and you take any step in the process and select a random freeze frame, it might look like pure chaos.  Like something dumb or demented.  Because there’s really no good, natural segue from a pirate ship to a Batman symbol.  The morph has to be a bit messy.  But just because it’s messy at any given point doesn’t mean that we need to despair.  We can have faith and hope that we’re going to see something big and beautiful when the next swell in the music comes.

This is where our church’s current transitions (primarily related to adaptations in the way that we do small groups) may feel very chaotic at times.  People in our church may feel like, “I haven’t enjoyed good, small-group fellowship for over a month now!”  Or they might feel like they don’t really want to shift from Home Groups to Communities, because they liked the look and feel of Home Groups as they used to be.  Others might feel like they're being left out of the new plans, like there’s no natural point where they're going to fit in when all the dust settles.  It may often feel like “I can’t take all the drama of this church anymore!”  And honestly, I couldn’t blame anybody for feeling frustrated or confused at times!  Because I feel that way sometimes!  If you take any random freeze-frame from these last couple of weeks (or maybe from the next couple of weeks, yet to come), it might look like pure and total chaos!

It’s good to remember that we really sensed God’s leading as we went into these transitions.  We talked about it and prayed about it and talked about it some more, as a Servant Leadership Council (all nine of us).  And ultimately, we made a unanimous decision to move in this direction.  It wasn’t a 5-4 vote, or 7-3, or anything like that.  We all felt God’s leading together, and we did a lot of planning and preparing to make sure that we weren’t hastily jumping into things.  Our current ideas for how to do church may not be perfect -- but they’ve certainly been well thought-out!

And while we may be going through a season of transition, we need to remind ourselves that God is a God of peace, not chaos.  God is the one who created the Earth from its vague, mysterious, primordial soup.  Genesis 1 records how, "The earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.  And God said, 'Let there be light... water... sky... land... vegetation... heavenly bodies... fish... birds... animals... people...' God saw all that he had made, and it was very good."  This is also the same God who brought Israel through a dark period of its history, when the kings deserted the way of the Lord and the people drifted towards idols.  God spoke to Elijah during an especially dark and discouraging season of ministry, when the prophet was convinced that everyone had rejected the Lord’s covenant, broken down His altars, put all the other prophets to death, and seemingly left him all alone.  In the midst of that chaos and confusion, God spoke to Elijah and reassured him that everything was still under control.  And not just in a general sense either.  He provided specific names and details and reminded Elijah that he was not alone.  1 Kings 19:15-18 records the conversation:  "Go back the way you came, and go to the Desert of Damascus.  When you get there, anoint Hazael king over Aram.  Also, anoint Jehu son of Nimshi kind over Israel, and anoint Elisha son of Shaphat from Abel Meholah to succeed you as prophet.  Jehu will put to death any who escape the sword of Hazael, and Elisha will put to death any who escape the sword of Jehu.  Yet I reserve seven thousand in Israel—all whose knees have not bowed down to Baal and all whose mouths have not kissed him."

Furthermore, in addition to the anecdotal references to God bringing order out of chaos, it's significant to remember that the Bible tells us very specifically -- very directly -- that God is not a God of chaos or disorder, but a God of peace.  He’s one who brings order out of chaos.  1 Corinthians 14:33 states it unequivocally:  "God is not a God of disorder but of peace."

I don’t know about you, but I find it very encouraging to think about these things while we’re in the midst of transition.  I find it encouraging to remember that any discomfort that we’re experiencing is just seasonal and passing.  If we can keep ourselves centered on Jesus -- on the God of peace -- then we’ll be able to make it through just about anything.  We can trust that God has a well-designed halftime show drawn up for us; we can just keep marching in faith, following his directions until the next swell in the music and the next dramatic revelation of His shape for us.

Link: http://proverbs365.ericasp.com

I thought today's post in the Proverbs 365 project might be interesting to cross-post on this blog as well.  It's a reflection on Proverbs 17:5, in light of recent comments made by Christian commentator Pat Robertson, entitled, "P1705 - Oh, Pat..."

He who mocks the poor shows contempt for their Maker; whoever gloats over disaster will not go unpunished (Proverbs 17:5).

Have you heard about the recent comments from Christian commentator Pat Robertson, about the earthquake in Haiti? Sometimes the view of the situation can become distorted by speculation on a few words from a longer statement, so I'll include the majority of his controversial quote, for clarity's sake. Here is what he said: "Something happened a long time ago in Haiti, and people might not want to talk about it. They were under the heel of the French. You know, Napoleon III, or whatever. And they got together and swore a pact to the devil. They said, we will serve you if you'll get us free from the French. True story. And so, the devil said, okay it's a deal... That island of Hispaniola is one island. It is cut down the middle; on the one side is Haiti on the other is the Dominican Republic. Dominican Republic is prosperous, healthy, full of resorts, etc. Haiti is in desperate poverty. Same island. They need to have and we need to pray for them a great turning to god and out of this tragedy I'm optimistic something good may come. But right now we are helping the suffering people and the suffering is unimaginable."

Even with some of the greater context of Reverend Robertson's comments considered, most of us cannot help but respond with some sense of "Oh, Pat..." Why, oh why does he keep saying things like this (I remember similar comments around the time that Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans)??? Doesn't he realize the way these comments are taken by the rest of the world? Doesn't he realize how his comments reflect on the Christian faith in general? Just about everyone knows that there's no honor in kicking someone while he's down. But we who follow Jesus should be especially considerate in these situations! We need to remember that he who mocks the poor shows contempt for their Maker. We need to remember that whoever gloats over disaster will not go unpunished.

We also need to remember that sometimes our best comment is no comment. Personally, I wonder if this is how Pat Robertson's foot has found its well-worn path into his mouth. Namely: he has his own talk show, where "Christian" commentary on current-day events is expected, day-in, day-out. And when something has to be said about everything, we're naturally going to make stupid statements. I do the same thing myself, sometimes -- and I'm especially aware of these dangers in preparing a whole year's worth of daily devotions on the Proverbs. It's important for all of us to take the "lesson" that needs to be taught to Pat Robertson, and teach it to ourselves. If you think you're any better than Robertson, I would challenge you to simply consider the challenges of constant content creation. Just about every radio commentator I can think of has said something thoughtless, ridiculous, and offensive at some point or another -- because, think about it, radio commentators have to fill up hours of air-time every day. And all of us, too, have said stupid, regretable things at some point or another. This isn't necessarily a defense of Pat Robertson's comments; he still said really foolish, anti-biblical things for which he is fully responsible. Still, we need to be careful in pointing fingers at Pat Robertson, even as he's pointing fingers at the Haitians...

We're all susceptible to these dangers, whenever we try to become "experts" in an area of life in which we have no place playing that role. Coming back to the poverty and disaster situations, even world-class economists and geologists cannot explain or solve the most basic problems of poverty and earthquakes -- so why on earth would we try to do so?!? We just have to accept that the poor are among us, and we're all not so far from falling victim to the same fate ourselves. Instead of pointing fingers to condemn, we need to offer hands to help, to be good neighbors. I don't know if that necessarily makes for good television commentary -- but it certainly makes for a good life.

Did you know...

• The tonsils are not the dangly thing hanging down in the back of your throat (which is actually called the uvula) -- but rather the puffy balls on either side of it (usually hidden by the back of your throat, but visible in the above photograph, with the one tonsil actually touching the uvula)...
• The Dutch refer to their tonsils as "throat-almonds" (keel amandelen)...
• Furthermore, the Dutch refer to their adenoids -- a related part of the lymphatic system -- as "nose-almonds" (neus amandelen)...
• The Asp family gene pool provides for notoriously bad (easily inflamed) throat-almonds and nose-almonds...
• Bad throat-almonds and nose almonds cause problems with deep breathing (especially during times of physical exertion in the cold), with sinus drainage, with hearing and speaking, with sleep apnea, and with snoring...
• Elliot is getting his throat almonds and nose almonds taken out one month from today...

Did you know all that?  I feel like I've learned a lot about tonsils this week.  We're very glad that we finally got the Ear, Nose, and Throat Specialist to order such a treatment.  Hopefully it will be helpful in alleviating many of the aforementioned afflictions.  Elliot is actually excited -- not scared at all -- about the opportunity to undergo such surgery!

It's crazy to realize that I'm currently writing...

• A sermon per week, for the first two and a half months of 2010 (squeezing my previous annual average into the first quarter of the year!)...
• An extra sermon for the first weekend in February, for a wedding...
• A two-page prayer letter each month (with January's annual extended edition just about to come out at a full six pages!)...
• A full-length work of creative non-fiction (trying for roughly a chapter every two months), collaborating with a friend to record the memoirs of an Albanian mobster / shepherd / thug / drug courier / refugee...
• A ~ 500-word original devotional per day, as a part of my Proverbs 365 project...
• And my regular blogging here (typically 2-4 posts per week)

I often like to dream about a second career in writing.  But then I realize that I'm already kind of doing that!  I don't know if it reinforces the dreams for the future or creates disillusionment.  For now, I'm enjoying the season of intense content creation.  I'm also aware of the acute dangers of such a collection of projects eventually swallowing me!

But for now, I'm living it up.

In Amsterdam these days it's, as they say in the Netherlands, echt koud.  I could pretend like there's a really profound cultural insight in the translation of that phrase, but there's not.  What I mean (and what those Dutch words mean) is simply that it's real cold.  And I mean that as literally as possible.

The snowpack over the city of Amsterdam remains intact, two full weeks into the New Year.  People are saying it's been over 20 years since their last memory of such cold and snow.  This morning, there was a solid layer of (not very thick) ice all the way across the Amstel River -- which I have never seen.  They've shut off the water flow to the canals in the Jordaan (one of the oldest, most scenic and sentimentally-valued areas in Amsterdam) -- in order to let the water stagnate and allow a crust of ice to begin to form on top of these canals in the innermost section of the city.  There have been scattered reports of people venturing out on the ice, and every report is widely and wildly circulated in this country where ice-skating is an integral part of the seasonal culture -- even though it rarely gets cold enough, anymore, for "natural skating" (as opposed to "artifical skating" on man-made rinks, which is something very different in Dutch culture and language).  However, the officials continue to strongly advise against skating on the canals of Amsterdam's city center (though there are plenty of opportunities for skating on the ponds and more outlying waterways -- like we had last year).  For now, everyone is kind of watching and waiting.  We're all holding our breath in anticipation.

It gives us something to do while we shiver to death in the absurdly cold temperatures. :-)

Seriously, though, I much prefer the true winter experience in Amsterdam -- as opposed to the cool, dark, gray, rainy seasons that I've experienced in previous Januaries.  It is beautiful and exciting.  I especially hope that I might get to witness the legendary elfstedentocht (eleven cities tour) -- which is absolutely legendary in Dutch culture.  From everything that I've heard, it's bigger than the Olympics -- like, Dutch ice skaters might have a very difficult time deciding between Vancouver or Friesland, if the elfstedentocht were to happen in the second half of February.  And yet, while they've been holding them for the last 100 years or so, the conditions have only allowed it to occur 15 times.  Ever.  The last one was in 1997.  So it would be a pretty big deal if we could get to see one of those this year...

On certain levels, I'm already wishing for spring -- especially when it comes to bicycling.  The country has literally run out of road salt -- and so some of the side streets are perhaps 4 or 5 centimeters of firmly packed snow-ice.  And it's so cold getting from place to place; even with excellent gloves my fingers are tingling by the end of a 15 minute bike ride.  But when I think about skating on the Keizersgracht and watching an elfstedentocht for once -- well, I'm quite content to wait for spring.

I've now officially completed the first full week of my Proverbs 365 project (and am already a couple of days into the second week).  Already, I'm feeling quite enriched by the study, and I thought that maybe I'd mention it again in the hopes that it might enrich your life as well...

Here's the basic idea of how it's working:  for every day of 2010, I'm committing to reading one chapter of Proverbs.  On the 1st day of the month, I'm reading from the 1st chapter of Proverbs; on the 9th day of the month, I'm reading from the 9th chapter; the 11th on the 11th, the 26th on the 26th, and so on.  Thus, by the end of 2010, I will have read through the book of Proverbs 12 times.  In addition to the general reading of a chapter each day, I go into each reading with a sense of prayer -- asking God to draw my attention to one specific Proverb (usually a single verse or two) for further and deeper consideration, meditation, and application for that day.  After choosing one particular Proverb for that particular day, I write up my reflections on that Proverb -- relating the core themes of the Proverb to personal anecdotes, cross-referencing other parts of the Bible, or posing questions on points that perplex me.  Just three or four paragraphs -- 500 words or so -- trying to blend the wisdom of the Proverbs into a contemporary context.  And in so doing, I should be able to finish the year not just with 12 general read-throughs but with 365 in-depth reflections on 365 individual Proverbs.

I decided to undertake the project for my own benefit.  But I'm also publishing the results on-line -- both for personal accountability and for extending the opportunity for others to join me in this pursuit.  You kind of have to see it for yourself, to really get a good idea of what it's all about.  But here's a brief synopsis of what I've covered over the course of the first week of the project:

In looking at the first chapter of Proverbs, I decided to focus on the first seven verses with my post P117 - The Antidote to Idiocy and talked about how the Proverbs played a critical role in my life during some very difficult years, just after moving to Amsterdam -- and how the Proverbs offer all of us a very valuable ticket on the train heading out of Cluelessness...

In my second post, P245 - Questing Repurposed, I mused on the bizarre cultural phenomenon of "Reality Television" and the ways that, for all its absurdity and its vices, it teaches us something critical about the human heart...

When I got to the third chapter of Proverbs, I was hit squarely between the eyes -- personally convicted by some old (ungodly) "pastor's tricks" that I've picked up on throughout the years.  I talk about these experiences in P327 - The Power of a Moment (and please accept my apologies if you've ever been the victim of the ol' "Wait and See" technique)...

Proverbs chapter 4, the inspiration for P401 - Father Knows Best, helped me to realize all of the ways that my father has blessed me with his wisdom throughout the years.  I talk about how our culture is no longer a traditional, patriarchal culture -- but that we need to be careful not to throw the baby out with the bathwater...

As bold as it sounds, I now believe that every man needs to read the 5th, 6th, and 7th chapters of Proverbs once a month.  It's good for women, too, of course.  But it's a matter of life or death for men.  I talk about it in P534 - Death in Your Pants.

In P668 - Ants Are Awesome, I join in King Solomon's reverie for the natural wonder of ants.  I also found a very cool video clip that shows just how incredible ant society can be.  There also seem to be a lot of lessons for the church (and businesses, and governments, and all forms of social organization) today.

And on the final day of the first week of Proverbs 365, my reaction to the text is captured in the title, P718 - Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come for You? I think about all the dangers of life and love and fidelity -- and realize that it's actually a surprisingly healthy exercise to imagine what might happen, if ever confronted by a seductress in some back alleyway.

And that's just the first week.  Further information about the project and about how to subscribe to the project and follow along on your own is included in my Introduction to Proverbs 365 and in my previous posting to this space, 3 Days from 365 -- so give it a look.  And let me know if you're following along.  We had some technical issues with the commenting feature of the new blog at the beginning -- but those seem to be resolved now.   It looks like it's going to be a great year of growing wiser.

There's been a continuous snow cover over Amsterdam ever since we got back from Ohio on New Year's Day.  I've never seen such snow in all my seven years here.  Last January we had one week of hard freeze, but there was no snow.  And while we have had snow before, the accumulation has previously lasted for 48 hours or less before getting swallowed up by the rains.  This snow cover, however, is for real.  Yesterday evening, we got another 3 or 4 inches on top of what was already there.

The snow makes the city so beautiful and so silent.  I love it.

The snow does come with its hassles, however.  Bicycling through slush is no fun -- though I can't figure out which is worse:  the soft squishy stuff and its messiness, or the rock hard frozen stuff and its slipperyness.  Of course, it's really cold outside -- and we feel the cold more in Amsterdam than in Ohio, simply because we're out in it more, not having a car.  A lot of people use public transportation during these times, naturally -- but that doesn't seem to be the best scenario either, because of cold waits at the tram stops and bus stops while you're waiting to get on and suffocating overcrowded warmth once you're on.

Marci and I also discovered, yesterday evening, that the city's transportation grid isn't able to handle the large amounts of snow very well.  We were trying to make it to dinner at the home of some friends' up in the northernmost section of the city (far enough away that we wouldn't even tend to do bikes in nice weather), and as our appointment happened to fall right during the heaviest part of the snow-storm, we had quite the adventure in trying to get up there.  First we waited for the bus.  It's usually supposed to come every 10 minutes, but we were there for maybe 20 or 25 minutes with no sign of any buses running.  Another girl waiting at the stop said she had been standing there for about an hour.  So a few of us decided to split a cab together.

The cab seemed to be working out all right; however, shortly after dropping off the first passenger at her desired location, the taxi driver threw up his hands and said that he couldn't go further -- evidently frustrated by the heavy traffic and extremely slow conditions (seeing how he gets paid by the kilometer, not by the hour).  After some arguing, we got put out on the curb next to a large shopping center -- approximately half-way between our point of origin and our destination.  We waited around for a bus, but after a little while we decided that it was pointless.  We had already been in transit for about two hours -- and we were set to relieve our babysitter in another two hours.  After some brief deliberation, Marci and I decided to surrender to the weather and its inevitabilities.

So we called our friends to cancel, grabbed some fast food for dinner, and then tried to catch a bus back to our neighborhood.  But once again, after a half-hour of shivering in the cold, our bus never came.

We ended up catching a different bus to Centraal Station and then taking a tram the rest of the way to our house.  But it was quite the adventure:  three-and-a-half hours and about 40 euros worth of going nowhere.

It was a little bit frustrating...

But hey -- at least we get a pretty city out of the deal. :-)

And in case you're interested, there are more pictures of snowy Amsterdam available in the Amsterdam Pictures section of the website.

Children are completely ridiculous.  But I love them because they are so completely human.

Here's a little example for you:  Ever since the weekend before Christmas, it's become fashionable in our home to replace a high-five with a silly sort of handshake we call "Root Beer - Pizza."  It was never intended to be a long-term thing.  But one day we were enjoying lunch at Donato's, near Columbus, and we were reveling in the joys of good ol' fashioned American root beer and pizza.  Spontaneously, Elliot and I raised our glasses in a toast, putting the cups together while saying, "Root Beer!"  And then, somehow, by the end of the meal, the gesture had evolved so that no cups were included, but we'd say "Root Beer!" and then bump our fists together (fists positioned vertically, as if they were holding frosted mugs of root beer) while making an imaginary clinking sound with our mouths ("Cshhh!"), followed immediately by an exclamation of "Pizza!" -- turning our hands into small triangles, with our middle fingers as the pointy part of the "pizza slice" then touching each other in a sort of pizza-toast, while making sound with our mouths that could best be transcribed as "Psssss."  It's ludicrous, really, but it's become my kids' favorite form of tactile greeting.  So even now that we're back in Amsterdam, we're going around with this little "Root Beer!  Cshhh!  Pizza!  Psssss" routine.

I think it's hilarious.  But it's also interesting to wonder how that's really all that different from the way that any other sort of fad catches on.  You know what I mean?  "Fashion" is such a fluid concept...

Last night, when I was putting my kids to bed, I stumbled across another aspect of human nature -- specifically, the mind games that we play with ourselves that change our perception of the world.   For Elliot and Olivia, it had to do with their adjustment to jet lag.  Over the first few nights after getting back from Ohio, the kids became convinced that it was simply impossible for them to fall asleep -- that they had somehow lost the ability to sleep at night.  And while I can certainly understand the frustrations of dealing with jet-lag, it was crazy to see how the kids could whip themselves into a frenzy with their thought patterns.  On Sunday night (just before the first school day of the new year), they managed to stay up until almost midnight fussing and whining and panicking about the impossibility of falling asleep -- even though it was obvious that they were completely exhausted.  They basically just sat in their beds, tightening every muscle in their bodies, convulsing in tears and agony about how "I - just - can't - fall - asleep!"  Only when we laid down a very firm line about the consequences of any further noise coming from their room did they finally quiet themselves enough for their natural sleep impulses to take over.

So when it came time to try again yesterday (Monday evening), I thought I'd try a different tack.  After their bedtime story (during which Elliot and Olivia were already showing signs of putting up a fierce resistance to falling asleep again), I told the kids that we were going to try "The Two-Phase Sleep Plan" this time.  Phase One, I told them, would be just quiet reading for the first hour that they were in bed.  They weren't expected to fall asleep at all during this hour -- though, if they started feeling kind of sleepy, then they could of course close their eyes and let themselves fall asleep.  But then after the first hour, I would let them know when it was time for Phase Two:  putting the books aside for 15 minutes of lying quietly in bed with eyes closed.  And if they were still awake when I came to check on them at the end of Phase Two, then we would go back to Phase One -- alternating between the two phases for 15 minutes at a time as long as necessary until they finally fell asleep.  I figured it would take the pressure of them, so they could just focus on one step at a time -- not pressed by the "infinity" of time that that whole night ahead of them might overwhelm them.  Well, as you might have guessed, Olivia was asleep within the first hour, before we ever got to Phase Two.  And Elliot didn't make it out of the first iteration of Phase Two.  I simply marveled at the simplicity and quiet of it all.  Sunday evening's bedtime and Monday evening's bedtime could hardly have been more different from each other.  It was awesome.

But it all goes to show how we can so easily psyche ourselves out into manufacturing our own worst nightmares by obsessing over them.  But if we just live by faith, taking things one step at a time, things go so much more smoothly.  Like I said, children are ridiculous.  But it's not because they're children.  It's because they're human.

I've had a number of people ask me what I did for New Year's Eve this year, and the truth is that I have absolutely no idea what I was doing at the moment the calendar changed from 2009 to 2010.  This is not, however, because I was asleep or drunk or anything like that.  It's because I was in an airplane racing across seven time zones to meet the dawn of the new day, the new year, and the new decade.  And though we left just before seven o'clock in the evening (Central Standard Time) and arrived in Europe at 10:35 the following morning (Central European Time), it was never announced when the hour struck -- because time is a very fluid concept in trans-Atlantic aviation... So I don't really know where I was, what I was doing, or precisely when 2010 began.  I suspect it was somewhere between Newfoundland and Greenland, while I was watching some crappy movie on the in-flight entertainment... but I guess we'll never really know.

What I do know is that we had a great couple of weeks in Ohio at Christmastime.  It didn't feel like we had nearly enough time -- but then again, it never does.  And as much as I could bemoan the shortness of the vacation, I have to admit that we actually managed to fit quite a bit into the time period.

We rode an antique train to the North Pole (surprisingly accessible from Connersville, Indiana!).

We enjoyed snowball fights and sledding and lots and lots of Christmas lights.

We baked cookies and went carrolling from house to house in the country.

My brothers and I made lefse (traditional Norwegian potato-based flatbread).

We played basketball and American football, and we watched basketball and American football on television.  My Dad, my son, and I got to go to our first professional basketball game together -- watching LeBron James and the Cleveland Cavaliers trounce the Houston Rockets.

We re-enacted the biblical account of Jesus's birth on Christmas Day.

And we just spent a lot of good quality time together with family who don't often have the privilege of gathering together any more.

It was really everything we could have hoped for.  Of course, it wasn't without its stresses either -- driving in heavy snowfall, coordinating schedules with a lot of families who each have their own priorities, sharing one bathroom with 16 people (when the water heater went out for a couple of days!), and traveling through busy airports... But so is life.  We made the most of the experience, and for that I am very grateful.

Time passes so quickly, doesn't it?  Some of the family we only get to see in parking lots and every five Christmases.  Some members of the family are quite advanced in age (Marci's grandpa, for example, turns 93 later this month).  It's difficult to project life's trajectory.   And even with all other things being equal, there's nothing to say that someone won't get cancer or some other sickness (over the holidays, I happened to hear about two particularly tragic discoveries of cancer, plus a suicide and a teenage car crash).  It can be terrifying to think of all the possibilities that a new year could hold.

But we can only take it one day at a time.  One city at a time.  One conversation at a time.  There are a lot of anxieties for the coming year, but there is a lot of hope and opportunity as well.  It'll be interesting to see what 2010 will hold.  Happy New Year to all of you...