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About admin

In the process of starting a new grassroots movement in downtown Vancouver, Washington. In the process of fighting terminal cancer. In the process of learning to be a better neighbor, husband, father, Christ follower, and friend. As initiators of the Grassroots Conspiracy we hope to be a part of a movement of hope, imagination, and transformation in our developing downtown neighborhoods.

Getting Closer to Death

I still stand behind what I have said. I still believe it. I still believe that death is inevitable for us all, that God never promises to bring healing but to tell a beautiful story in our death whether it is sooner or later, tragic or ordinary. But I am learning that having courage in the face of potential death gets harder the closer you get to it. Today I’ll receive the results of my latest MRI. If the scans look good (no tumor growth or tumor regression) then we continue with my monthly chemo regimen. If the scans look bad then we’ll have to pursue an alternative set of treatments. Back in early October it was easier to receive the news that the chemo/radiation combo didn’t seem to work because there was a fairly similar and not-very-invasive next step available (what I’m doing now). But the further we get down the line of available treatments the more nervous I get. So attempt number one didn’t work (surgery). Attempt number two didn’t work (chemo and radiation). And today we’ll find out if attempt number three worked. How far down this list of treatment options do I want to go? With each new attempt death becomes more and more of a reality–and if I were to be quite honest what scares me most about death is not the death itself. No, what freaks me out most is two things, one is leaving my family behind and the other is an odd sense of purposelessness in the present.

We’ll see. It could be that, as my mom jokes, the latest MRI will reveal that what they thought was a tumor turned out to just be a gnarly scab. (Oddly, by the time most of you read this there will already be an update with test results) Regardless of test results today I’m just tired. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of being useless. I’m tired of my wife being tired. I’m tired of my kids being stressed. I’m tired of my dog eating my cats poop on top of my pile of laundry that we can never keep up on. I’m tired of feeling guilty at every single doctors appointment. From my oncologist, to my naturopath, to my physical therapist, to massage therapists, and everyone else I either have to lie or let them down when they find out that I’m tired of trying to eat healthy, of drinking the amount of water I need to, of doing my exercises at home, and…the list goes on and on of things I should be doing.

I hope and pray that it’s good news today, but it’s hard not to live in the potential reality of it being bad news.

 

(don’t worry friends and family, don’t freak out too much. I’m doing my best to give you an open and honest window into the ups and downs of my own personal experiences with cancer. One moment I feel great and the next I feel terrible. One moment I’m filled with hope and am an inspiration to the world and the next I’m banging my head against the wall and feeling worthless. I want you to see and be a part of both ends, of both extremes because its the reality of what all this is like. Thank you for walking with us in all this…even if its only through the virtual world known as the interwebs)

The Nerdy Church

Being different is easy. Anyone who’s experienced nerdom knows this. It’s not hard to stand out as different or odd because most everyone is trying to hard to fit in. The formula looks like this: look around you, observe the customs and norms of a majority of those around you, dress or act in a manner that is either opposite or off just enough to make it weird. It’s as simple as that. I’ve done it for most my life.

Being different isn’t hard. Churches and Christians have been different like this for ages. And like the formula above much of the oddness of Christians and churches has much to do with being intentionally different from what’s considered normal around. We define ourselves based on what we don’t do (i.e. we define ourselves by being weirdly different from those around us)

I suggest that those who follow Jesus should be weird, they should be different, but it should have nothing to do with choosing to be different from the culture around. That’s an easy way to be different but it’s not a wholly redemptive way of being different. The invitation that Jesus brings is to live distinctively. It does not require comparison to live distinctively as Jesus invited–it requires courage. The definition of what that distinctiveness looks like is not formed by saying what we DO NOT do but rather what we do do…yes, I just said do do.

On one hand Christians do not exist in a bubble, they are very much enmeshed with the context in which they live (as they should be! This is not a bad thing and deserves its own blog), but on the other hand they should not seek to be defined simply in contrast to that bubble. Jesus was not about the rejection of culture but about the restoration or renovation of it. There are obviously things that must/need to be rejected in our world, but those ‘rejectable’ things are often bastardizations of something that was actually intended for good.

Defining ones self (or ones church) simply by rejecting things you don’t like or don’t aprove of around you is easy. Anyone can do that. Defining ones self (or ones church) based on an intentionally chosen way to live is much more in line with the life Jesus came to offer…but it is most definitely a more difficult road to follow.

Rejection is easy–direction…devine.

A Failed Blog About the Need for Routine…

I like the idea of spontaneity. As a matter of fact I like to think that I thrive in spontaneity. I’m a pretty loose guy, so going with the flow is not only enjoyable for me but I think I’m pretty good at it.

I also like the idea of a community of people who are spontaneously getting together, who do not need a weekly gathering to force them together but who love each other so much they see each other in a spontaneous way all the time. I like that idea. It sounds right. It sounds like true community.

But I think it’s somewhat hollow. I don’t think it works. I think people need routine in order to go to a certain depth of relationship. Without scheduled routine gatherings spontaneity either loses its grounding or the relationship itself can never go deeper than the randomness in which it exists.

I’m not happy with how this blog post is developing. Hmm.

Maybe you should just watch this instead…

Greatness

Is greatness worth it? It seems to me that in order to do things that will be remembered after you die, in order to be the kind of person that changes the world you’ve got to give up a lot. And I’m just not sure it’s worth it. Martin Luther King Jr. had many affairs. Gandhi watched his wife die rather than violate her body with a simple shot that would save her. Steve Jobs was eccentric and odd in extreme ways. High level pastors often make the news for their secret lives that include soliciting prostitutes, affairs, and addiction. It really seems like the people who accomplish great things inevitably sacrifice much.

Most of us want to be remembered for something good or great that we’ve done. Most of us want our eulogy to be an inspiring story of greatness. But is it worth the cost?

Is it enough for my eulogy to say that I tried to be a good father, a good husband, and a follower of Jesus? Am I satisfied with being faithful in ordinary things rather than excelling in the extraordinary?

My Wife Just Can't Understand

My wife just can’t understand what it’s like to go through what I’m going through. She can’t understand what it’s like to have all the extra hormones that I had to deal with while I was hopped up on steroids for six months. Crying at a moments notice, being moody, irrational, and generally having a different emotional disposition are all things that she just can’t understand.

Try as she may my beautiful wife who is chronically thin has no idea what its like to pour on thirty pounds in just a few months. Even worse, knowing that the extra pounds are not permanent keeps one from justifying purchasing more clothes to cover the new girth. She just absolutely doesn’t get it! She can’t imagine how awkward it is to need to use a rubber band to hold my pants together ’cause the button won’t reach the buttonhole.

She’s never had something foreign growing inside her, sucking her life’s energy and strength to feed its own growth. It’s as if I have a parasite living in my back…but its not a parasite, it’s a tumor. There’s no way she can comprehend the loss of control one feels with something like that being inside of you, one with you, and yet completely foreign. She just can’t get it.

Jess doesn’t know what its like to be nauseous day in and out, for food to not sound good for months at a time, and to be stuck on your back all day every day. She doesn’t understand how boring it is to be on bed rest, to not feel good enough to read, and yet to realize that there truly isn’t anything good to watch on TV. Nope, she doesn’t get it.

I keenly remember when I was at the hospital the transition that happened as I lost any need for privacy. So many doctors and nurses had looked at my body, poked and prodded it, that I lost any sense that there was anything to hide. Jess can’t understand that. She can’t understand what its like to be exposed so many times and so regularly that you forget you might have anything to be ashamed of.

Jess can’t understand how taxing it is to have to go to the doctor all the time, to feel like you’ve got a chain connecting you with your doctor ’cause you aint ever going to get to far from ’em. No way, no how she understands that frustration.

Speaking of frustration!!! She has absolutely no way to understand how annoying it is to have to pee constantly! I swear I’m like an eighty year old man (my apologies to any eighty year old men I just offended)! I pee every five minutes…and there’s no way my wife gets that. She can’t understand what that’s like for sure. And it’s not just pee either, no way she understands what severe constipation feels like. It is a miserable feeling that she just can’t sympathize with.

Thank God I got a vasectomy last year.