I had a great birthday celebration (my 33rd) this past weekend -- seriously, one of the best birthday observances that I've experienced in years...  But it all got me to thinking about some deeper stuff, too.

My 16th birthday was my Driver's License Birthday.  My 18th birthday was my Voting Eligibility Birthday.  My 21st birthday was my Legal Drink Birthday.  My 25th birthday was my Quarter-Century Birthday.  My 30th birthday was my Gateway to Middle Age Birthday.  But my most immediate association with the age of 33 is the Crucifixion of Jesus (who was, as far as we can tell, 33 years old at the time of his crucifixion, burial, and resurrection).  So I guess you could say that I just celebrated my Crucifixion of Jesus Birthday.

It's kind of an odd association, I realize.  But there is something powerful in the realization that this is what Jesus might have felt like -- what his body might have felt like, the thickness of his beard, the beginnings of ache in his joints, the slowing metabolism... and how his mind might have processed the events around him, the compiled power of memory, his sense of mortality, his ability to see humor in circumstances that might have previously frustrated or scared him, his perception of those older than him and younger than him -- in that last year of ministry, leading up to the climax of his ministry.  Maybe these thoughts seem a little bit morbid, but it somehow helps me to connect with the Passion of Jesus in a different way, during this season of Lent and preparing for Easter.

He was so young (at least from my way of looking at things!)!  There was so much of the world that he never got the chance to experience.  And yet, he made such a profound impact on the world with his 33 years.  Yes, of course, it helped that he was the Son of God and everything -- but still, he was absolutely human at the same time, and by the age of 33 Jesus had changed the course of human history.  It's amazing and humbling to consider.  And although I hope that I will not have to face  a crucifixion in the coming year, I do hope that I can follow Jesus more and more, every day.

Yesterday we received a belated Valentine's Day card in the mail, from my grandparents in North Dakota.  The handwriting on the envelope suggested that maybe one of their in-home care providers had assisted them in getting the card out in the mail -- as they're now in their late 80s -- but it was special to get a little tangible reminder of their love, in the form of that Valentine's Day card.

But even more than the card, I enjoyed the picture that they sent along with the card:  an image from a recent summer, in which my grandparents are sitting on a grassy lawn together, eating corn-dogs and drinking soft drinks bought from the midway of the county fair.  To me, it's such an iconic image of my grandparents, of the American Midwest, and of enduring love.  Every time I look at the picture, I can't help but smile.

So of course, I thought I would share it (see above).

Link: http://proverbs365.ericasp.com/

In light of this morning's headlines annoucing the results of yesterday's ice-hockey game between the United States and Canada (good news!) and yesterday's professional-basketball game between the Cleveland Cavaliers and the Orlando Magic (bad news), I thought it might be interesting to copy today's post from my ongoing Proverbs 365 project:  P2204 - NHL vs. NBA.

Humility and the fear of the LORD bring wealth and honor and life (Proverbs 22:4).

Different sports have completely different cultures. The character qualities that are prized in golf (i.e. low profile, high self-confidence, clear-headedness) are completely different than the character qualities that are valued in American football (i.e. brash intimidation, team chemistry, sharply-channeled rage). And nowhere is this cultural contrast more clear, in my opinion, than in the differences between players from the National Basketball Association (NBA) and the National Hockey Leage (NHL). The NBA and NHL seasons overlap heavily. Both the NBA and the NHL have huge fan bases in North America (I enjoy both sports greatly, for the record). However, in spite of all the apparent similarities, NBA players and NHL players seem like they come from completely different planets, to hear them interviewed by the media. NBA culture seems to create players who usually come across as bragadocious, showy, territorial, and trash-talking. "I'm better than him." "In your face." "I got game and he don't." "He better get outta my face or I'm gonna throw him out." Many of the league's biggest stars are close personal friends with gangsta rappers (or occasionally even rappers themselves!). Throughout the past couple of seasons, two of the NBA's most dominant centers have developed an ongoing vendetta about who most deserves the nickname "Superman." It's just that kind of culture.

NHL culture, however, seems to create players who usually come across as very plain, unassuming, even-keeled, and "regular guy" (and not nearly as interesting as NBA players, in interviews!). Case in point: I recently read an on-line article about Ryan Miller, the goalie for the American men's ice-hockey team in the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver (who also plays in the NHL, of course), which underscored the cultural difference between hockey players and basketball players. Through the weeks leading up to the Olympics, Miler had been repeatedly hyped as the Americans' best chance for success at the Olympic games. However, in responding to the hype, the star goalie responded with typical hockey-culture candor:

"It's flattering when you hear that," Miller told ESPN.com. "I don't know how many photo sessions I've had with the American flag draped around me or behind me; it's bordering on ridiculous. You know, I'm one piece of the team. I understand the whole concept of a goalie being able to steal a game. In these tournaments, everyone starts to hype how a goalie can steal a game; just like the Stanley Cup playoffs, everybody starts to hype how a hot goalie can win you a Stanley Cup. But the team in front of you has to play solid, and the goalie almost always reflects the way his team is playing... You're not going to skate through a tournament or win a Stanley Cup without a team that's paying attention to detail," continued the Buffalo Sabres netminder. "So I'm going to try and hold up my end of the bargain and give my team a chance to win. And if I feel I've given them that opportunity, then I've done the best I can, and hopefully that's good enough."

It's crazy to notice the different vibes for these different sports, isn't it?!? They both have their advantages and disadvantages. As far as sports and cultures are concerned you can't really elevate one over the other. But in real life, the Proverbs would suggest, it's much better to be an "NHL player" than an "NBA player." A person can get much further in life -- in business, in relationships, in personal reputation -- if they can maintain the attitude of a humble, unimposing, magnanimous "NHL player," as opposed to the attitude of a prideful, self-promoting, chip-on-the-shoulder "NBA player." If an NBA player tried to take up ice-hockey and bring his NBA attitude into the NHL's locker rooms and arenas, he would be ostracized from the rest of the team, alienated from the fans (who seem to appreciate the NHL's humility factor, even if it does make for more boring interviews), and smashed out on the ice at every opportunity. And this really seems to be the way that the "real world" works, on issues of pride and humility. The proud are destroyed eventually, while humility and the fear of the LORD bring wealth and honor and life. Yes, if your basketball skills are up to snuff, you might want to work on your NBA persona and see how that works out for you, throughout the rest of your life. But if they're not (and let me assure you: they're probably not), I would recommend developing your NHL persona and letting that guide you.

So how do we identify and follow the spiritual inukshuks in our lives?  How do we live by faith?  The most basic answer comes down to following the guidance of the Holy Spirit, who serves as our power for day-to-day living and spiritual interaction with God (and with other believers) and our means for obtaining spiritual wisdom.  1 Corinthians 2:9-16 explains this for us more fully:

It is written: “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him” -- but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit.  The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.  For who among men knows the thoughts of a man except the man’s spirit within him?  In the same way no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God.  We have not received the spirit of the world but the Spirit who is from God, that we may understand what God has freely given us.  This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit, expressing spiritual truths in spiritual words.  The man without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him, and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually discerned.  The spiritual man makes judgments about all things, but he himself is not subject to any man’s judgment: “For who has known the mind of the Lord that he may instruct him?”  But we have the mind of Christ.

So really, finding the inukshuks in life and determining God’s direction all comes down to having this “mind of Christ” (the Holy Spirit).  It's not a formula or a mathematical equation; it’s a spiritual thing.  The Holy Spirit is the ultimate trump card.  His leadership is most important!  But with that said... there do seem to be a handful of principles that we can observe in the Bible and from real-world experience for identifying the spiritual inukshuks around us and making Spirit-filled decisions.  In particular, I believe there are five main checkpoints that we can use to help determine the inukshuks in our lives and find the path being marked out by these inukshuks: (1) God's Word, the Bible, (2) Prayer, (3) Godly Counsel from Other People, (4) Circumstances, and (5) the Test of Time.

With actual inukshuks in the Canadian wilderness, Inuit hunters don’t just look at them and see a random pile of stones.  They know how to study the rock formation like a map and read it for specific clues as to which direction they must go.  In the same way, we can study the Bible to give us direction (see 2 Timothy 3:16-17, Psalm 119:97-99, 138, and John 14:21).  Secondly, real inukshuks are discovered through searching for them and consistently scanning one’s eyes across the flat, arctic horizon in hopes of spotting the next marker on the trail home.  An Inuit hunter knows that he won’t see anything if he’s not looking for it.  In the same way, prayer gives us spiritual eyes to see what’s in front of us (see Proverbs 2:3-6, Colossians 1:9-10, and James 1:5).  Thirdly, it's important to remember that an inukshuk is not just an arbitrary pile of stones on the tundra.  There may be quite a bit of variety in the way one inukshuk might look from the next, but there is an element of consistency as well -- stemming from the fact that they are a part of the Inuit culture, and people who are from that culture know what separates an inukshuk from just a bunch of rocks.  In the same way, our involvement in Christian community helps us in determining the direction God wants to take our lives (see Proverbs 12:15 and Proverbs 11:14).  Fourthly, it's significant to note that for the Inuit people, an inukshuk’s environment, placement, and circumstances are important in determining the inukshuk’s meaning and significance.  A pile of rocks in the middle of the wilderness means a whole lot more than a pile of rocks in the village.  Likewise, God can use circumstances in our lives to help prevent us from going wrong directions and steer us in the right direction for the future (see Acts 16:6-7 and Matthew 10:11-14).  And finally, it's important to realize that one inukshuk is not enough to guide an Inuit hunter on the entire path that he needs to follow.  Rather, it is the collective alignment of several inukshuks that mark the path, and the only way to know that you’re truly on the right path is to be patient and make sure that they consistently line up, pointing in the same direction.  I feel it’s the same way with spiritual inukshuks (see Psalm 27:13-14, Isaiah 30:18, and Proverbs 14:29).

In summary, I believe the better we can get at discerning these spiritual inukshuks and applying the principles outlined here above, the better we will be able to determine the Holy Spirit’s leading in our lives —- allowing us to make wise, Spirit-filled decisions.  At times, it will seem like the journey is incredibly long, with the inukshuks placed impossibly far apart.  But if we can keep moving forward in faith, staying true to the direction of the last inukshuk that we passed, we will reach our destination in God's time, and according to God's plan.

My story of the Inuit hunter is actually a story about my own spiritual journey.  Yes, I did some research and tried to create a true representation of Inuit culture, in northern Canada -- but I also think it holds tremendous meaning for individuals living here in Amsterdam in the 21st Century.  Perhaps different metaphors work better for different people, yet I feel like my own spiritual journey works a lot like a path marked out by inukshuks:  traveling through an unmarked spiritual landscape with just a vague sense of direction.  It really is a journey of faith towards an uncertain goal, and the only way that we're able to keep moving forward is through the guidance provided by the inukshuks in life -- those moments of spiritual clarity, scattered every so often, that remind us of our direction and goal.

We all have those moments in our lives, if we look hard enough.  Sometimes, they're referred to as moments of epiphany or revelation.  I’ve also heard them referred to as “spiritual mile markers.”  But for me, I like to think of them as “inukshuks.”  They don't come along very often on the generally flat, unmarked spiritual landscape of our lives.  But when we find one, we can immediately observe evidence of obvious design and purpose, comforting and reassuring reminders that we are not the only ones to have walked a particular path.  With these spiritual inukshuks, just like Inuit inukshuks, there is a great variety of design -- but their significance is unmistakable.  They're placed just every so often, barely enough to remind us that we are indeed on a designated trail.

And if we learn to look for the inukshuks that God has put in our lives, we can more effectively live with radical faith and trust in the directions that God takes us.

Everyone has big decisions that they have to make at some point or another in his or her life.  "Which university should I go to?" "Which job should I take?"  "When and how and to whom should I be married?" "What does the future hold for my life?"  These questions crop up whenever we find ourselves changing jobs, moving cities, or whatever.  They're all very difficult questions which don’t have very clear-cut answers.  But if we believe that God helps to guide us and protect us -- providing these spiritual inukshuks to mark out the right path to God’s will for our lives -- how do we really know what we’re looking for?  How do we figure these things out for ourselves and help to provide counsel for other people around us who are going through the process of making difficult decisions?

I strongly believe that the spiritual inukshuks are there, if only we'll look for them.  We just have to learn where to look and how to interpret them. Stay tuned for more ideas...

I remember getting all giddy and excited the first time that I saw the logo for the Vancouver Olympics (several months ago, before the current Winter Olympics ever got started).  It's silly, of course, to allow such emotion to be attached to a marketing device.  But the reason that I got excited about it was because I recognized the image right away as an inukshuk:  a Native American trail marker, which has become a powerful spiritual metaphor for my life through the years.

I initially learned about inukshuks at a gallery in downtown Chicago, in the late 1990s.  I was immediately fascinated by both their natural aesthetic beauty and the story behind their design.  A few years later, when Marci and I were first considering the possibility of moving to Amsterdam, the inukshuk came back to me as a powerful metaphor for following God's direction for our lives -- ultimately providing some of the faith and confidence that I needed to make a trans-Atlantic move.  And ever since then, the inukshuk has inspired me and encouraged me.  I've written rather extensively about inukshuks through the years -- in my journals and in sermons delivered on both sides of the Atlantic -- but it's just occurred to me, with this year's Winter Olympics in Vancouver, that I've never actually blogged about inukshuks.  So I thought that I might put together a mini-series on inukshuks as a spiritual metaphor.

For today, I thought I'd share a short story featuring inukshuks that I wrote back in 2002...

*     *     *     *     *

It’s been a long hunt.  He began over a week ago, following the trail of the caribou herds northwest towards the Arctic Ocean.  And after a disappointing week of tracking and hunting, he is on his way home.  Unfortunately, the village is still a long ways off -- he estimates perhaps another full day’s journey.  His supplies are running low, and he is hungry because he has been rationing his food supply for the past day and half -- ever since it became clear that he would not be returning with fresh meat.  He is tired and alone.  And he is starting to worry that he’s lost.

The surrounding landscape offers little reassurance.  For miles and miles in every direction, the flat arctic tundra spreads out like a cold gray blanket.  Broad fields of stone and ice, moss and lichen -- there is very little to look at, and even less to mark the way home.  The hunter has a vague sense that he is traveling in the right direction, but nagging doubts persist and it is difficult to be certain in regards to his heading.  He looks behind him, in hopes of finding reassurance that he is going the right way -- but he can find none of the landmarks that have guided him to this point; they are all far behind him, blended into the flat desolate wasteland.  He can do nothing but press ahead in the direction that he thinks to be the proper path.  Straining his eyes toward the southeast horizon, he walks onward… continuing by faith and instinct...

And then he sees it.  It is still a long ways off -- its form difficult to make out over such a great distance, but unmistakable nonetheless.  He is encouraged to see it, and his step quickens in the direction of the distant shape.  As he approaches, he’s able to see more clearly and there’s no mistaking the fact that he has found the next inukshuk.

Walking up to the structure, the hunter smiles and then stops to sit on his pack for a moment and gaze upon the inukshuk in front of him.  It is simply a pile of stones, loosely arranged in the shape of a human figure, rising from the desolate landscape.  It is plain and basic, but its design is unmistakable -- obviously erected by hunters before him, standing solid and keeping vigil to direct the lonely traveler on his way back to the village.  It is called an inukshuk -- meaning “image of a man’s spirit.”  His people, the Inuit, have used inukshuks for many generations to mark the best and safest passages through the wilderness.  Their individual forms are unique -- varying according to the available materials -- but in every case, they are of distinctly human design, never to be mistaken for a natural rock formation...

By studying the placement and design of the inukshuk, reading the orientation of the stones as if they were a map, the hunter is able to once again determine that he is, in fact, on the right trail.

He must still travel a great distance before he will reach his village, but it is good to be reassured of the direction that he is going.  Chewing a small portion of dried meat, he stands up and shoulders his pack again.  It will be getting dark soon, and he still has a lot of ground to cover if he wants to make it home by tomorrow night.

Placing his hand on the cold stone “shoulder” of the inukshuk, as if to say good-bye, he turns away and begins to trudge onward in the direction of his village, faithfully plodding along the vague path that was marked out for him by the inukshuk -- waiting and trusting for the next inukshuk to guide him yet another step closer to home.

*     *     *     *     *

In my next post, I'll explain more of why the inukshuk has taken on such spiritual significance for me and what it teaches me about the life of faith.  So stay tuned...

It seems to me that there's an unspoken cultural code in the American Midwest, which subtly discourages the celebration of one's own birthday.  One can celebrate a friend's birthday, whole-heartedly and unashamedly; but to celebrate one's own birthday by throwing oneself a party -- or even by simply informing other people, "Today is my birthday" -- is considered selfish and uncouth.  Back in college, a friend of mine coined the term "Birthday Announcer" to describe the type of person who goes around proudly telling people that it's his birthday; and I knew exactly what he meant.  There's just a certain perception about these things, back where I come from.  Perhaps I'm overstating the American cultural position here, but it definitely seems like birthdays are meant to be held as some kind of loosely-kept secret.

The Dutch, on the other hand, are almost categorically "Birthday Announcers."  Birthday parties are usually organized by the birthday celebrant himself (or herself), and it's even common for someone to bake or buy their own birthday treats to share with friends at work or in school.  There's no shame in celebrating one's own birthday.  And while it's taken me awhile to get used to the cultural shift, I have to say that there's something nice about the Dutch way of doing things.  It makes sense, actually -- and it helps to alleviate any potential feelings of self-pity or disillusionment.  Quite awhile ago, I started admiring the Dutch tradition of unashamedly serving as one's own "Birthday Announcer."  But I've still had a hard time crossing that cultural barrier for myself...

Until this year.

I feel like it's a sign of my cultural integration that I'm finally going so far as step across the divide and become a "Birthday Announcer" myself.  Indeed, I'm not only announcing my birthday (coming up on the 26th of February) -- but I'm also throwing my own party, together with two other friends who happen to share birthdays within a week of my own.  This week, I sent out the following birthday invitation by e-mail...

Dear friends,

Once upon a time, there were three friends living in Amsterdam.  They were different in many ways:  one coming from the mountains of Colorado; one coming from the farmlands of Ohio; and one coming from the flatlands of Zuid Holland.  But in other ways, they were the same:  enjoying good food, good music, good stories, and good time together with friends.  As fate would have it, their birthdays all fell within nine days of each other.  So one day, they decided to celebrate their birthdays together, with a big party.  They prepared all kinds of good food, good music, and good stories, and they invited their friends to celebrate with them in the heart of Old Amsterdam.  And they lived happily ever after.  The End.

OK.  So that may not be the best story ever -- but it does get the point across that a very special Storytelling Triple-Birthday Extravaganza is being organized for Saturday, the 27th of February, starting at 19:00 at the [e-mail me or send me an e-mail if you really want to know the address, so I don't have to post it here as a matter of public record]… And you are hereby cordially invited to join us for the celebration!  Patricia Flynn, Ariënne van Leussen, and Eric Asp are the hosts / birthday celebrants, and we are really looking forward to a great party.  Like most parties, there will be time for simply chatting while sharing in drinks and snacks and birthday cake (remember:  this is a party involving the baking talents of both Ariënne van Leussen and Marci Asp!).  But in addition to this, we will also share in several rounds of storytelling.  Not readings, like you might find at a typical open microphone event, but oral storytelling.  Thus: no pre-arranged, carefully worded, written accounts, but rather spontaneous, random storytelling, like you might have heard around the fire 1000 years ago.  The idea came from the Mezrab Cultural Café here in Amsterdam -- where people regularly gather to share myths, fables, legends, remembrances, and personal anecdotes -- and it seemed like a fun idea for a birthday party.  Yes, of course, you could choose to share stories that involve the birthday celebrants (i.e. stories about Patricia, Ariënne, and/or Eric).  But this is by no means the only type of story allowed.  You could share an amusing story about something that happened to you on your way to the supermarket… or make up a legend about how the leopard got his spots… or tell a stylized version of a Bible story… or pass on a treasured family story about how your grandparents got married… The possibilities are nearly endless!  The specific form of the evening will be determined by those of you who come to celebrate with us.  We just want to spend time enjoying the company of good friends enjoying good stories.

So all that to say this:  please mark your calendar for Saturday, the 27th of February, starting at 19:00 and going until late (towards the end of the festivities, there may even be some dancing!).  If you wanted to bring a nice card or gift or bottle of something to drink, that would certainly be welcome.  But more than anything, we hope that you will be able to come with your stories and be a part of the fun.  We're looking forward to celebrating with you at the end of the month…

Patricia
Ariënne
Eric

And to show just how Dutch (and "Birthday Announcerish") I've become, I thought I might even go so far as to post the invitation (with the exception of the location information, to protect my friends' privacy) here on my blog, just to make sure that I haven't forgotten anyone.  If you'd like to come and celebrate with us, please let me know and I'll supply you with the rest of the information.  Forgive me, my Midwestern friends, if it seems that I've gone astray.  I promise that, on this particular point, it's only one day of the year. :-)

Elliot's home from the hospital now:  tonsils and adenoids removed, small ear tubes inserted.  Medically-speaking, everything went very well; and we are certainly glad for that.

Still, it's been surprising to see how brutal the process was and is.

The last time Elliot had tubes put in his ears (yes, this is the second time that this particular procedure has been performed on my son), he practically bounced out of bed as soon as the anesthesia wore off.  Some of the other kids who had been brought in for pediatric Ear-Nose-Throat surgery at the time woke up groaning or screaming or vomiting blood, but our Elliot was bright as a button -- perhaps because the procedure to place the tubes was not as difficult or as painful for the patient.  But this time, Elliot was one of the "other kids."  He not only had the tubes put in his ears again, but he also had his tonsils and adenoids removed -- and this time, while the other kids seemed to recover relatively quickly, heading home by 10:00 or 11:00, our boy had a much harder go of things, and we didn't get home from the hospital until about one thirty in the afternoon...

When I came into the recovery room, just as Elliot was waking up, the situation was not pretty.  He had blood around his ears and mouth, down his neck, and still coming out of his nose.  A patch of hair above the right side of his forehead was caked with drying blood.  The nurse was working to clean him up, just as he was regaining consciousness.  He was disoriented and panicked.  And then he noticed the pain in his throat.  His throat hurt so much that they eventually had to give him, not one, but two hits of powerful pain-killers to get him to settle down (this is ultimately what kept us at the hospital longer than the other kids).  The nurses kept encouraging him to keep drinking the lemonade that they brought for him -- which Elliot hated, as it stung his throat -- but eventually, Elliot was stable enough to return to the regular hospital room.  His throat pain has remained pretty bad ever since then, but he eventually sucked down four popsicles and was discharged to come home and complete his recovery.

So that's the story up to this point.  We're glad that the much-anticipated surgery is finally over.  We have a few pictures -- and a lot of pain -- by which to remember the occasion.  But hopefully it will get a little better every day from here on out.

I thought I was done with this stage of life.  I thought I had moved on.  Yet here I am, Valentine's Weekend, and I've bought a silly little heart-themed teddy bear for a girl.

I feel so sheepish, as if I'm some kind of pawn of the greeting card corporations.  As if my love is somehow valid only if accompanied by a €2.49 teddy bear.  I feel like I've sold out, and I should be eternally ashamed of myself (not publicizing the fact on the internet!).  But what can I say?  If you would have seen what I saw this morning, I think you would have done the same thing.  You would have realized what a €2.49 teddy bear can mean to a girl.

It all started when I took Elliot and Olivia to school this morning.  Upon entering Elliot's classroom (together with Olivia), his classmate Marije immediately presented him with a cellophane-paper-wrapped gift of a white teddy bear holding a red heart inscribed with the words, "I love you."  There was also a hand-written note attached to the gift, which was signed "x x x kusjes (kisses) - Marije."  When I looked at Marije herself, I noticed that there were tears at the corners of her eyes -- so great was her excitement and anticipation tied up in the gift that she presented to my son.  It was simultaneously beautiful and heart-breaking to see how much energy had been tied up in that little teddy bear, which her mother confided had been sitting on her bedroom dresser for three weeks.  Fortunately, Elliot responded well, with a big smile, a "Dank je wel" (Thank you very much), and a warm hug.  Marije beamed, and Marije's mother gestured as if she was wiping a large quantity of sweat from her forehead in relief.  It was a pretty cute little Valentine's Day scene.

But then I noticed that the eyes of my own little five-year-old girl were welling up with big, crystalline tears.  Her lip was trembling.  Her face was crestfallen.  "What's wrong, Olivia?" I asked her.  "Why are you so sad?"

"Because I don't have anybody giving ME a little bear for Valentine's Day," she wailed.

Perhaps I should have anticipated such a response.  "Oh, Livvie-girl, don't be sad," I said.  "We can be happy for Elliot, and maybe you'll get something else for yourself later."  It was quickly dawning on me how precious a "silly little heart-themed teddy bear" can be to a five-year-old girl.  I wiped her tears and whispered her words of reassurance.  Elliot agreed that she could carry the little teddy bear that he had just been given down to her classroom before I took it home with me for the day.  So the crisis was averted.  Even so, as I was walking through the halls of the school, holding my little girl's hand and remembering her tears, I resolved to myself that I would intentionally cave to the "corporate pressures" as soon as possible and ask Olivia to be my Valentine, with some little plush trinket.  Yes, I felt a little bit foolish, standing at the cash register of the Blokker and exchanging my €2.49 for their little heart-themed teddy bear, which I would give to my daughter.  But as I thought about it, I realized that it's a great privilege that I have -- to capture the heart of a little five-year-old girl, who's still not embarrassed by demonstrations of affection from her father.

Indeed, €2.49 -- and its accompanying loss of dignity -- is a very small price to pay for such an opportunity.

Today, I'm focusing on (and memorizing) the Proverb that says, "The wise in heart accept commands, but a chattering fool comes to ruin (Proverbs 10:8)."  It's reminded me of a ministry situation that I encountered about a year ago, which was very challenging at the time, though now I'd say is quite amusing in retrospect.  I wrote about the whole experience over at Proverbs 365, but I thought that today's entry might be especially interesting to regular readers of this blog, so I'm going to include a tease (an excerpt) here below:

...The Chattering Fool is dangerous, but unfortunately all too common.  I distinctly remember meeting a young man, about a year ago, who perfectly fit the caricature of the Chattering Fool -- and it was a frightening experience that will always haunt me.  Let's call him "California Ryan," for the sake of this story.  He had just moved to Amsterdam, in his early 20s, in an attempt to break his addictions to marijuana and crystal meth (Don't ask why he picked Amsterdam, of all places, to attempt such a recovery!).  He was lean and nervous, like you might expect from a recovering addict.  He had a vague, pencil-thin mustache and always wore a baseball cap.  He talked with a lot of "dude"s and "like"s and other classic Californianisms.  But his most remarkable -- most inescapable characteristic was his incessant chattering.  Seriously, like, the Dude never - stopped - talking...

To see how the situation resolved itself, you're going to have to pop on over to Proverbs 365. :-)  If the obvious cross-promotional ploy is offensive to you, I apologize.  But I'm enjoying the Proverbs 365 experience immensely, and I thought maybe I'd help you to do the same thing, too.

The 14th of February happens to fall on a Sunday this year:  Valentine’s Day.  And to observe that occasion, our church has come up with an idea to host a panel of married couples -- a “Panel of Love,” if you will -- to do an open discussion about love and marriage, from a Christian, biblically-based perspective.

We’re going to have three different couples, from three different stages of life, participating in the panel:  Marci and I (married for almost 12 years), Marc and Heidi La Porte (married for 4 years), and Marco and Claudia Pauws (married for 4 months).  Anthony Dunstan will be serving as moderator for the discussion, directing the flow -- but really, the whole thing is going to be based on answering questions from the church.  We've solicited (and received) questions through a variety of different means already, but I also promised to post an electronic opening for questions here on this blog, so please feel free to leave any questions that you might want to have considered for inclusion in the discussion by our "Panel of Love."

Maybe you’ll want to ask us about sex... or arguing... or having children... or division of household responsibilities... or finding the love of your life... There are a lot of different possibilities -- but how the discussion will go all depends on the questions we receive.  The comment box is now open (and yes, it's OK if you'd prefer to ask your question anonymously)...

Today I have the privilege of officiating a wedding for two dear friends from our church here in Amsterdam.  It's going to be a lot of fun.  In addition to the special joy of taking part in a beautiful ceremony to join two beautiful people, the occasion is also special because it affords me the opportunity to preach in one of the oldest, most storied ministry venues in old Amsterdam:  The English Reformed Church in the Begijnhof.

The church building dates back over 500 years.  English Pilgrims worshipped in the same sanctuary in the early 1600s, just prior to sailing for the New World aboard the Mayflower and settling at Plymouth Colony.  And today, I will get to perform a wedding in the same space!

[P.S. - 7 February 2010 - I thought it might be cool to also include a picture from the actual occasion.  Thanks to my friend Sergei Tserasiuk for this really cool photo of the action!]

I've had this concept in my head for quite awhile, but I finally got around to figuring out how to do it in Photoshop.  It's a combination of the iconic "I amsterdam" PR campaign, with an obvious change in locality (from Amsterdam to America), but also with a play on my name in particular.

What do you think?  Are all three levels of significance (Amsterdam, America, and me) equally clear?  Is it cool?  Or cheesy?

Do you remember that whole thing about February being an ideal month for a four-week trial period?  Well, perhaps you might be interested to consider a four-week trial period "subscription" to my Proverbs 365 project -- now starting its second month of publication and picking up steam as it goes... I've been getting so much out of this study already, and I seriously feel like it's getting better and better as time goes on.

I thought it might be interesting to highlight three of my personal favorites from the first month of the project -- just to give you the chance to get a taste of what it's like.

Perhaps my personal favorite up to this point has been Proverbs 16:32, which I wrote about in my post P1632 - Tribal Chant for Patience.  The verse itself says, "Better a patient man than a warrior, a man who controls his temper than one who takes a city." But this verse took on a much greater significance when I happened to be meditating about it on a trans-Atlantic flight, being the sole adult guardian of two of my children for a very, very long day of long lines and frustrating circumstances!  This was basically the scenario:  "One of them spills an entire cup of apple juice over herself and then sits there crying and shivering in the cold.  You've made the world's dumbest wardrobe choice for an 8-hour trans-continental flight while seated between two small children:  a white, long-sleeved shirt.  Still, you take off the shirt and drape your daughter in it so she can warm up again -- only to see it become flecked and drizzled with barbecue sauce and strawberry jam during lunch.  A horrible head-ache sets in.  And there are still 10 hours of travel-time ahead of you... " It was quite the day.  But this Proverb proved to be a life-saver (not just for me, but for my two oldest children as well!).  Click on the link above or below to read the rest of the story...

A second personal favorite can be found on my post from the 15th of the month:  P1513 - Can You Find your Happy Heart? I was reflecting on Proverbs 15:13, where it says, "A happy heart makes the face cheerful, but heartache crushes the spirit," and it reminded me of a recurring question that I've often considered for myself, for my family, and for people from my church.  Basically, it comes down to the realization that  "Our attitudes are not as objective or automatic as we often think them to be.  They have a lot to do with what we make of them." I had some really pathetic pity-parties for myself last month, and this Proverb really helped me to reset my thinking patterns.  And this post in particular also came in handy when I was put on the spot at a recent story-telling event at the Mezrab Art Cage, here in Amsterdam. :-)  Anyway, click on one of the links to read more about this particular Proverb...

Thirdly and finally, I might recommend P2313 - To Withhold or to Provide as a third sample of the first month of Proverbs 365.  I'm always happy to hear other people remark about how pleasant and polite our children can be -- yet, while I certainly agree that they're pretty special kids, I know better than to think that they're naturally predisposed to kindness and obedience.  Truth is:  they're sinners, just like the rest of us.  Through the years, Marci and I have had to learn and apply the truth of Proverbs 23:13-14:  "Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you punish him with the rod, he will not die.  Punish him with the rod and save his soul from death." And for any other parents out there, I might suggest that this verse is pivotal for establishing a healthy understanding of child discipline.  How can one do this, in a societal context where a physical rod is considered brutal, abusive, and even illegal?  You'll have to read the post to find out some of my thoughts on this question...

For a more comprehensive listing of the first month's content, here are the titles of the first 31 entries, along with direct links to the rest of the contact:

• Introduction to Proverbs 365
• P117 - The Antidote to Idiocy
• P245 - Questing Repurposed
• P327 - The Power of a Moment
• P401 - Father Knows Best
• P534 - Death in Your Pants
• P668 - Ants Are Awesome
• P718 - Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come for You?
• P822 - Primordial Wisdom
• P913 - Drunken British Hooligans
• P1019 - Enough Said
• P1121 - Solomon's Assurance
• P1210 - Cousins and Cats
• P1304 - Dreams and Determination
• P1426 - Priorities
• P1513 - Can You Find your Happy Heart?
• P1632 - Tribal Chant for Patience
• P1705 - Oh Pat...
• P1809 - Slackadaisical
• P1908 - Basic Soul Care
• P2005 - Drawing In-Laws (Among Others) Out
• P2120 - Choice Food and Oil
• P2211 - Positive, Poised, and Prosperous
• P2313 - To Withhold or to Provide?
• P2411 - Staggering Toward Slaughter
• P2526 - Dog Crap in the Ice Water
• P2609 - Safe Word:  Thornbush
• P2714 - The Crazy Christian Radio Lady and Me
• P2813 - The Gospel According to Solomon
• P2918 - Revelation
• P3001 - The Cry of a Weary Heart
• P3110 - Marci Appreciation Day

And that's just January!  I've been working one month ahead of schedule in order to allow for regular posting of the devotional thoughts, currently set for publication at around 8:00 in the morning (Amsterdam time) each day -- and I seriously feel like February is even better than January (and pretty significantly better, actually!).  So I would encourage you to join with me, in studying through the Proverbs, during this perfect four-week trial period that we call "February 2010."  In addition to continuing to find fresh inspiration from the Proverbs every day, I've decided that I'm also going to memorize 3 individual Proverbs (i.e. a single verse or small cluster of verses containing a single thought) per week -- at least for the month of February (thus 12 Proverbs in all).  I'm excited to see what will come of that discipline, as well.  There's a lot of amazing stuff to be learned from marinating in the Proverbs...

Please let me know if you have any thoughts about how to make the Proverbs 365 experience even more valuable -- or even if you just want to let me know that you're also following along.  You can find all the latest updates at http://proverbs365.ericasp.com.