Driving a Standard

It had been oh...7 years since I had last driven a standard car.

The last time I was driving a standard was in Michigan going on a lengthy roadtrip. I was coming off a interstate ramp and shifted into 2nd gear from 4th....and that is when the check engine light came on...it was my roommate's car...and Chris drove his car for the rest of the trip...yeah we were going to visit my family in New England.

So, here I am engaged now and my finance owns a standard car...(which I might add gets great gas milage since it is a tiny Geo Metro).

Well we went out to learn how to drive a standard this would be about my oh 4th learning experience? (I learned twice before at Camp and once with Chris).


My greatest challenge was getting the car from a stopped position into a moving one without stalling or making the Geo shake violently. While our practice for the most part went well, I have more to learn. There were a few "peal outs" in the Wycliffe parking lot.

The real question is my old friend Chris glad I'm out on the road practicing?

Nate-

One God—Many Perspectives

(Reflections from a recent visit to a local Lutheran church. Long, I know. But hang in there...)

First of all, upon entering the cathedral style sanctuary, I realized I had misjudged the Lutheran dress code. Everywhere I looked, I saw black. Classy black. Black skirts, black hose, black purses, black slacks and black ties. Kind of like one big, stylish, professional funeral party.

I, on the other hand, being accustomed to a more contemporary service, was wearing…pink. A pink hand-me-down t-shirt from Goodwill, a frumpy faded jean skirt, and an old sweatshirt jacket I picked off the free table sometime during my college years. Not exactly stylish. Certainly not funeralish. But at least my scuffed up flip-flops had black rubbery soles.

Secondly, I was noticed the rigid schedule of the service. It sort of like being in the midst of a Broadway musical. The pastor would read a line of prayer. The people would respond in a unified chant, and then everyone broke out in a spontaneous line of chorus accompanied by an enormous pipe organ. The only thing missing was the choreography.

Thirdly, I was struck by the seriousness of the ceremony. At one point the entire congregation stood and turned around to stare directly at Nate and me. “What are they staring at?” I hissed, scouring the bulletin for a stanza instructing the congregation to stare rudely at the visitors in the back row. “Maybe it’s the jean skirt.”

Truth was, the congregation wasn’t staring at us. The church was simply waiting for the parade of white robed, red belted clergy to march down the aisle carrying a 9-foot wooden cross. A tradition slightly different from my own upbringing.

I could have walked out of the service last Sunday thinking all Lutherans are weird. But in all honestly, I believe the Lutherans see a piece of God that I often miss. They see the reverence due to the Creator of the world.

I’m not a Universalist, but I firmly believe that each of God’s children is able to see a different piece of Him.

I will use my father as an example to illustrate my point. I know my father as “Dad.” The stern but soft man who played softball with me and taught me to use a hammer. I know my dad very well and have thousands of stories about his sense of humor, his quirks, his caring heart and his discipline.

But I don’t know him the same way his high school buddies did. When I hear their stories of his mischief, his competitiveness and his cunningness, I understand a new side of my dad. Just as when I hear stories about him from his brother or his mom or his father-in-law or his neighbor or his patients.

Because none of us have been with Dad 24/7 from the moment he was born until this moment in 2008, we all have had different experiences with the man that we know by the same name.

So it is with God.

He is so big and so incomprehensible that we can only see one slice of his character at a time. I might experience his loving comfort. My Lutheran neighbor might witness his reverence-deserving power. But it is these two characteristics TOGETHER that can bring us closer to the Truth.

--Ivy

The Chase

And so there we were out running....when a small dog got loose from his owner and began chasing us. At first it was funny because the dog was only 9 inches tall and a very small critter.

Bound and determined the stubby dog high tailed it after Ivy and I. Now both Ivy and I are good runners, however we had to pick up our pace to avoid the small frantic animal.

The owner of the dog called after it to return, but her pleading was ignored by the dog and the two runners cranked it up a notch signaling a challenge to the dog...yeah try and catch us.

80 meters down the street, (which must have seemed like a mile for the dog), Ivy and I began to slow, and were surprised we hadn't outpaced it. We split and the dog had to make a choice who'd he go after....sure....go after the guy.

As I ran back to the owner I determined to run passed the owner and hopefully she would intercept the dog on the first pass....on the second pass she grabbed him and as Ivy and I ran off you could hear her scoldings her beloved dog.

Who would have thought small dogs could run so fast?

Nate-