Finding Momentum

Life

2014

A new way to move

Oh my God, I’m cold. I guess I didn’t imagine this on my retreat. 30MPH gusts blowing at me, stinging my face with snow bits. Nature is beautiful yet harsh, and I realize that the City Boy in me is not quite cut out for this. We aren’t in Oakland any more.

Intermezzo

Push and pull, move and wait. I’m in a season of waiting, of settling down. One moment moving, one moment heads-down dealing with the day-to-day, one moment being allowed (a little) to plan and to dream.

2013

On changing, moving, and finding momentum

To be honest? This year felt a little like autopilot. Like I was caught dealing with Life as it happened, doing a zillion different things (like I always do) and realizing that I needed to catch up with the changes. At times, this year felt like waiting for things to happen to me. Does that make sense?

2012

Thoughts on country music and the men that live in them

In the recent theme of grace, maybe one of the reasons I really like country songs and the myths they tell is because you can feel the grit in the stories. Country protagonists live out their flaws fully (for better or worse) but there’s always that redemptive thread.

30,000 feet at eleven

I’m not afraid of dying. I’m surprised by the thought flitting across my mind as my plane takes off. Were we to plunge into the California coast as the scene used to play out in my imagination, I’d be ready for that.

Seasons' shift

I feel like seasons are changing, not just in the air but through my life. I’m outdoors more often, laughing more, more okay with things being stuck, or in-between, or just not formed yet.

2011

Headed for Taiwan

Annie asked me this morning in the LAX terminal if I was looking forward to doing anything once we arrived in Taipei. I froze because I really hadn’t thought about it. The only thing I had thought about was what it would be like to see yie yie (my grandpa on my dad’s side), now 90 years old–the man that shaped my father, who shaped me. This may be our last time together.

On the wrong side of the bed

This morning I woke on the wrong side of the bed, knowing full well I couldn’t go back to sleep in this heat. I was annoyed that it was already 7:15 and it was already too late to get to prayer, too early to go to the office, too late to go for a run and too late to go back to bed. So I hung around in a daze of sleep debt and wondered why it couldn’t be 10 degrees cooler, why I felt so tired. I tried to read scripture but just got annoyed at how good it was, how soggy my cereal was, and how I couldn’t concentrate and how far I felt from Jesus. I got mad at how guilty I’ve been feeling about it all–about what exactly?–I don’t know. My jaw is sore; I’ve been grinding my teeth in my sleep lately. It’s my wake-up call to the fact that I’m generally really stressed, but never really aware of it.

A confession of a poverty of love

The more I stay here the more I realize that I am tired, I am selfish, I am resentful. I am being changed–yes–by entering the lives of people in poverty and seeing the grace of being invited into their lives. Yes, I am learning from them a simple faith and a simple life. But it is difficult, and it’s a place I do not know how to inhabit.

Farewell, Mr. Tang

I remember you most for your light-heartedness. I remember I used to play with you Sundays at Campbell and see you laughing, backpedaling from one side to another, sinking (most) your jumpers. The uptempo cut, a light-footed jumper, picking your way through lane traffic, and you’d be cracking another joke at Joe’s expense. In between games, you’d sit on the far bleachers and talk shop with the other HK dads.

On humanity, brokenness, and stuff

Tonight, we watched a video in Stephen Ministry that left me moved and feeling heavy at the same time. Dr. Diane Langberg spoke a message about the reality of brokenness and suffering in our lives and the need for compassionate Christians to sit with the hurting and minister with presence.