Category Archives: Love

First Responders…with a dash of hope

Posted on by
7

Sometimes terrible things happen and there’s absolutely no reason why. Sometimes there are reasons. And sometimes it just doesn’t matter. I don’t know much about this story, I’ve been watching from a distance and am unfamiliar with many of the details, and…well, I’m not sure it matters. Our local newspaper, The Columbian, writes about it here: http://su.pr/2vC1z5 and here http://su.pr/1tzvIe.

Essentially my friends had a shooting happen not only in their neighborhood but in their front yard. What was so amazing, what was so beautiful was that my friend is a firefighter. So as the person to call the police and as the first person to make it to victim who had been shot six times he was fully prepared to care for this boy in ways that you or I would not have been. Even further, however, my friends family (including his wife and boys) are people who have spent the last many years learning to respond with love, grace, and compassion to anyone and everyone who comes their way. So not only was he equipped to deal with the physical stuff (and it looks like the young man is going to survive!) but their family has been an overwhelmingly amazing ‘first responder’ to the family and neighborhood’s needs as well. From coordinating meals for the victim’s family for a month to now coordinating a neighborhood-wide effort to honor the family through inviting a communal voice of hope with chalk (I’ll explain in a moment) they are finding ways to be responders with hope.

Once again, The Columbian writes about it here: http://su.pr/2KOtPB

So here is what I’m getting to. If you live in Vancouver or Portland, I want to invite you on August 21st from 10:00-1:00 to join the Hough neighborhood to “Chalk the Walk“. Chalking the walk is a Vancouver tradition (and a very cool one at that) but this year at 1114 W 21st, Vancouver, WA 98660 it’s going to be a tradition marked with a deeper message when neighbors and friends counter the senseless violence that happened with messages of hope, life, and togetherness. Want to join?

Here’s the thing. I’m tempted to end this blog by saying something like “It’s not about Nate and Jasmine and how they’ve responded. It’s bigger than them. It’s about the neighborhood, it’s about you, its about…” but you know what? You know what the reality is? The reality is that we have so much to learn from this family, from Nate, Jas, and their boys (yes, their boys seem to always be a integral part in leading the charge as well!). If it were not for their posture of responsiveness to their neighbors none of us would be entered into this story. If it were not for their families core of love, grace, and compassion none of us would be invited to be ‘second responders’, if it were not for them this story would look very differently. So, you know what?, while this blog would probably feel better if I expanded it here at the end to include all of us as the ‘moral of the story participants’ the reality is that we’ve got to be learners here! We’ve got to learn from the Cook fam’ how to be first responders with a little dash of hope.

While we cannot (and should not…and I WILL NOT) try to pretend like any form of response at this point will dull the pain and terribleness of the situation–our hope, as always, is that God can transform shit into something beautiful. That’s what he does when we allow him to enter into our story. He doesn’t always get rid of the messiness (oh how I wish he would) but he is willing to enter into our narrative and do something magically beautiful. None of us know where or how this story is going to end, but because of this families willingness to enter into the fray we all are being invited to bring a candle of light into the bleak narrative in hopes that light might one day shine through it.

So will you join with us on August 21st from 10-1 at 1114 W 21st, Vancouver, WA 98660 as a second responder of hope?

Our Dating Story

Posted on by
8

Don’t tell anyone (as if its not already clear) but Jess and I are hardcore nerds. Yes, that’s right, we both grew up homeschooled. I even grew up a preachers kid. As teenagers when we were doing the Running Start program at our local community college (where high school students take college classes) my dad would drop us both off either in a church van or in a beater truck that was painted like a solar system. I didn’t get my licensee until I was seventeen. Jess didn’t wear jeans to church until she was like thirteen. I could attempt to convince you more, but I don’t see the point. My guess is that you’re already convinced…and, oh, how I’ve just begun.

Neither of us dated much. Jess had one boy friend that could be considered legit. I technically dated two girls before Jess…I think I may have held their hands once. Lets just say it never got hot and heavy and there wasn’t much depth to the ‘relationships’!

Essentially we are both of our first loves. As an eight year old Jess journaled about me as her “hunk”. I think early on had I journaled about her it would have been as my “best friends annoying little sister”. But oh how things change!

We fell in like over my last few years of high school. Jess’ brother moved away and I (relationally) moved in. I started to see this girl for who she was, not as a little sister but as a genuine hottie. Jess claims she always knew that I was a hottie and was just biding her time. As is the case for most of you, I’m certain, your first venture into sharing your love for your new bff was via email. Right? Isn’t that how guys and girls do it these days? So I wrote Jess an email proclaiming my love for her in not so many words. Over time we decided that there would be no reason to date unless we were going to get married (remember, we’re still acne riddled fifteen/sixteen year olds right now). So what did we do? We talked to our parents of course!

“Mom, dad, I really like Jessica and I was wondering if you thought she was someone that I might one day marry?”

 

…crickets…

 

“We were thinking about dating but we didn’t want to do it unless it might one day lead to marriage. And we wanted our parents approval and advice”

 

…crickets…

 

(I’m sure my parents said something but it was the verbal equivalent to…crickets…which could probably be translated as “my son is effing nuts. What is he talking about and why is my nerdy little boy talking about getting married? Maybe the kid should get his drivers license first!”)

Jess did the same thing with her parents and received about the same type of response. I don’t remember chronologically how things happened next, but it was on January 1 of Y2K that we started officially dating.

Our first kiss was at Scarpelli Hall. What is Scarpelli Hall? Well it’s only one of Clark Community Colleges buildings with one of the nicest waiting rooms on campus! Plush blue chairs, little to no privacy, pop machine, foot traffic. What more could a boy ask for? And remember this: I’ve never kissed a girl before in my life (mom, sisters, aunts–you don’t count). I think the scene went a little something like this:

Me: Hey Jess I’d really like to kiss you. I’ve never kissed a girl before and I think that I deserve to finally do so. I’m kind of a dweeb and I don’t really know how to…

 

Jess: quietly sings ‘hush little baby don’t say a word…”

 

Me: (I begin my pucker about ten inches away from any known face in the region and slowly move in)

 

Jess: (She quickly cuts the distance between my long pucker and her mouth by kissing me in a more appropriate fashion)

 

Me: (in shock and surprise I receive a real kiss.)

 

Some kid from some unknown science class lights off sparklers and dances around us as another student lights off some mortars in the background to celebrate my first kiss and, more importantly, OUR first kiss.*

So we started dating in January and it was in July that I moved to Lubbock, TX and eventually Lisbon, Portugal. For two years we did the long distance thing. Jess spent lots on phone cards (lots!). I spent lots of time charging my phone. We wrote letters, we made each other videos. We made lots of gifts. From pillows with my smell on it, to ugly shirts with my face. From her sending my whole Lubbock class (about fifty of us) home made cookies and gifts to her sending me specially made journals to write her back in. We did the long distance thing well. All the while, however, knowing that it was a long shot that it’d last. We tried to break up numerous times but it just never worked. We just couldn’t do it. We knew we were made for each other.

There was no one else like Jess. Seriously. I traveled the world, I sailed on the Greek Mediterranean seas only to discover that the only woman for me, the only woman who would do, the only woman who had ever capture my heart was the woman waiting for me back in the ‘Couve. Loving long distance was miserable but probably the best thing that ever could have happened for the two of us. It forced us to get to know each other in ways that we never could have experienced otherwise. We talked. And talked. A lot. What more do you have over an ocean than to talk or sing to each other? (yes, that’s right, she made me sing to her sometimes)

When I finally moved back things had changed. Jess was funnier than she had ever been before.** She was more confident as a person, more sure of who she was, and she was funnier (did I say that already?). She had new friends, she was more beautiful than before, and–oh, and I was different too. It took some adjustments but by September it was clear that we were still in this together and that the awkward request we put to our parents some three years prior was still right on. We were gonna get married. And so on the day before her October 4th birthday I surprised her and offered her a ring. And come June of the following year we tied the knott.

And we’ve never ever looked back.

 

* I may have embellished some of this portion of the story.

** Some would argue that she was always funny and that I only now realized or gave her credit for it. But only SOME say that.

The Great Homosexual Lover

Posted on by
8

This video is terrible for two reasons. Reason number one: the man is a very poor communicator. Reason number two: the man is absolutely filled with hate and misrepresents both what the church and Jesus is supposed to be about.

At one point he references Obama and says “I’m not going to vote for a baby killer and a homosexual lover!” Umm…I’m not sure if he realizes that Jesus was and and is a homosexual lover. No, I’m not going to write about whether or not I think Jesus is okay with a homosexual lifestyle because I think that this is arguable from both sides and from different angles…and that’s just not what this blog post is about. What IS NOT arguable is that Jesus loves all people, even and especially those who have been marginalized in society (which clearly includes the GLBTQ community). Those who have been forced to the fringes are those who early on were most drawn to the church, they were the ones who filled the crowds who followed Jesus, they felt drawn to Jesus and Jesus people.

I see no need to spend time calling out the people in this video because obviously the preacher and the backwards people who were cheering and clapping his hate-filled speech are not accurate representations of what Jesus people should be like. It would be like spending time and energy trying to argue against the Westboro Baptist folk–it’s both a waste of time and a waste of argument because there’s not really anyone in their right mind who needs to be swayed to disagree with them in the first place! So to spend time arguing against Pastor Charles Worley feels wasteful.

I do, however, think there’s reason to pause and remind us Jesus followers (and those who question what Jesus followers look like) that Jesus was and is a lover of all peoples regardless of race, sexual orientation, moral compass, sex, or economic status and that we are invited to do the same. It is so often easy write people off, to find reasons to be unkind, or–more likely–to find pretty sounding ways of treating people who are different from us with less dignity and respect. The whole “hate the sin love the sinner” phrase is one example of what I believe is a “pretty” way to treat people with less dignity. To look me in the eyes and tell me glibly that you hate what I do but are willing to still love me comes off patronizing and does not in any way feel like an act of love. I’m not suggesting you must like all people’s behaviors, but that phrase has an arrogant superiority to it that I believe is hurtful. It is especially hurtful because it usually emerges outside the context of relationship. Had Jesus’ first words to Zacchaeus been “Hey little man, I hate the way you live your life and your probably going to hell…but because I’m nice and loving I’m still willing to go out for coffee later with you. What do you say?” Zacc probably wouldn’t have hung out with him as he did. Instead Jesus not only treated him with respect and dignity but also showed and received hospitality from him. While Jesus did later invite Zacchaues into a new way of living, Jesus didn’t really live into that phrase “hate the sin love the sinner”. I just don’t see a reason to even use it. It feels arrogant, invasive, hurtful, assumptive, and just plain ol’ not nice. But I digress from the point…

Plain and simply: Jesus loves people. If you don’t vote for “homosexual lovers” then you’d find yourself not voting for Jesus. If you’re someone who wants to lock people up and drop food off via an airplane you’d probably not be in the same voting block as Jesus. If you’re someone who uses a stage, microphone, or pulpit to invite people into hateful living then I’m certain you’d be worshiping at a different church than Jesus. Jesus loves all people…

…now if only I were able to master doing the same…

 

Love you Mom…

Posted on by
7

I don’t care if it’s cliche, I love my mama. This morning my sister and I will take her out for breakfast in North Portland to my new favorite place (it’ll be her favorite too i’m sure). Normally Mother’s Day is a whirlwind of activity, church gatherings to plan, the mother of my children to care for, my mother to care for, my grandma to care for, my wife’s mother to care for, etc. Lots of planning and figuring out and all that jazz. This year we’ve just returned from being with most of those moms in Disneyland and we’re choosing simplicity above all else. So in a few hours I’ll go on a quiet date, just the three of us–dad was uninvited. Tomorrow I’ll be at home where there will be a quiet meal around the table with my wife, me, and our kids (don’t worry, my wife won’t be cooking). Quiet. Simple. But together.

But don’t let the simplicity of all this fool you. My wife is the most amazing mom I’ve ever seen in action and my mom is the most perfect mom I could have ever wanted or needed. Today is my mom’s day, so let me share a bit about her with you.

I grew up in a very safe home. I don’t mean safe from guns and violence (though those are both completely true) but I always felt loved. Always. There was never ever a doubt that my mom cared for me, wanted the best for me, and would do anything to meet my needs along the way (which I should clarify means not meeting every want of course). I remember her as a mom who was willing to do what it took to engage her children, to invite us into learning and to free play. The simple fact alone that she was involved enough in our schooling to know that it was best for us to be pulled out and to be home-schooled at a time when it was literally on the edge of being illegal (am I right?). My mom was a pioneer in many senses of the word–not only did she occasionally dress up like a pioneer (Tara do you have those pictures?) and have us do the same but I’m realizing that I think it’s her fault that as I’ve grown older I’ve been drawn to the life of a guinea pig in many ways. Exploring new ideas and questioning the status quo is something that I’m realizing I learned from her–what a gift!

My mom was always attentive–to the point that she stressed and worried constantly about being inattentive. As the youngest child of a youth minister’s kid I got dragged around to every youth group event for all of my life…and yet I was never ever forgotten or ignored. I had a special and unique birthday party during literally every Summer youth group mission trip. I remember a season when my mom chose not to go to youth group activities and instead the two of us would go to McDonalds together on dates, spending time together away from the crowds. She worked hard to make sure her children felt special and cared for, unique, and above all loved. What more can a child ask for?

My mom is a learner. She’s always learning. I have vivid memories of her Bibles over the years–as a matter of fact I could sit here and tell you about each one, about their color, their type, and even the type of binding that they had. They were always tattered and well used. With any book (especially the Bible) she’s a terrible highlighter. If something isn’t starred, underlined, or highlighted it must be pretty boring–’cause everything else is covered! For most of my memory my mom would be awake before us, reading the story of God, highlighting, and journaling through it. She doesn’t just take in information but she’s constantly seeking integration–what does this have to do with my life, how can I be a better lover of people, etc.? She’s always been a learner and it is something that I’ve not only carried with me into adulthood but crave to pass onto my children. I love that about her.

I could write so much more! I could write about waking up each morning to the sound of oatmeal bowls hitting the table. I could write about memorizing scripture together in the mornings. I could write about defining family road trips to Yellowstone, Canada, and Californian. I could write about her stranding me in the Yosemite river. I could write about the sacrifice and gift of homeschooling and what that meant for our family. I could write about her love of snow and the fun we’d all have anticipating its coming. I could write about her bravery in entering into counseling and paving the way for her family to do the same. I could write about how she’s cared for my wife as a daughter and what that has meant for me as a son. I could write about partnering with my mom in church planting and what it’s like to become friends with your parents. I could write…so so much more! But at this point it’s gotten to that awkward moment where my wife is beginning to wake next to me and the tears that are streaming down my face will make for a strange waking!

Mom I hope you know beyond everything else that I love you and I’m so grateful that you were the person who raised me, Jen, and Tara. What more could we ask for than to know beyond everything else that we are and were loved children, and that we are and were cared for, that you will and would do anything for us? Time and time again you’ve proved all this to be true. Thank you. I love you.

Life has not been what we expected or anticipated in more ways than just the ridiculousness of the last year. “Surprising” and “ridiculous” might just be the words to define our lives in general, let alone this last year. The journey we’ve all been on has sucked in many ways and I’m tempted to end this note of appreciation and gratitude with an expletive or two…and I think that you’d agree and get it…I think that of all people you’d see that as a fitting end to this post! You’d get it ’cause it’d be absolutely ridiculous for this to be my last Mother’s Day to tell you that I love you. It’s just not right. So…just in case…just in case I get another year or seventeen, I’ll leave this blog post polished up and decent! I love you so much mom and I want to tell you thank you for your gift of taking care of me, my sisters, my wife, and my kids. Thank you for your example as a woman of God, as a learner, as a pioneer, and as a lover of people.

See you in a few hours for breakfast.

Everyone Deserves to be Loved

Posted on by
1

I post this about every two years…and it’s time again. Fred Rogers beautifully captures what it means to follow Jesus, to live a life of love, and to honor the image of God in every single person. He may not use Jesus-y language but he lives it out and it’s inspiring to say the least.

Enjoy.