New life...

That's the grass of my front lawn.

We've started working on it again.  *Again* because every year, in this one same stubborn spot, it dies.

Death and re-birth.

My friend's wife died last week. He's 34, she was a bit older. 28 days from her initial diagnosis she was gone, with Jesus.

The funeral was Saturday.  It was moving, scripture soaked, and very meaningful. 

You know what I've gotten out of watching, and praying, while this episode has unfolded? A new sense of focus.  I've gotten a shot of *new life* injected into my life's calling.

See, like you, I find it tough sometimes to keep going.  Sometimes I want to quit. Sometimes I get tired of waiting, tired of working for 'free', tired of writing thankless proposal after thankless proposal. I get tired of writing sermons I don't get paid for, tired of taking phone calls and emails from people I'm not getting paid to pastor.  I get tired of parenting, tired of working to be a good husband.  I get tired of battling sin, tired of doing the simple work of devotion.  I get tired of doing the right thing, tired of being patient with people who really need a smack upside the head.  I get tired of politics and manipulation.

But being 'tired' means I'm *alive* and, with my friend's wife's passing, I've realized, again, how very important it is to simply, humbly, faithfully *do* your job without sweating all of the above.

The practical upshot of all this is that I've received, in just the last month, a SHOT of passion, inspiration and patience for (half) my job; meaning the pastoral half.

I'd intimated on this here blog how hard the four or five weeks following Easter were for me. We hit our 'summer slump' early, I was preaching to a tiny room, and our services weren't functioning or flowing in the way I knew they needed to (for the sake of the people God has entrusted to our care) and I found that EXTREMELY frustrating.

Then, the week of my friend's wife's diagnosis, things started shifting. Attendance started climbing a little (not to pre-Easter levels, it is still summer after all, but to more respectable ones) and our services started flowing better and I started finding more joy in my preaching.

Could it be that all the praying we were doing for her, and all the introspection forced on us by thoughts of her, combined to shift gears spiritually for us?

Could it be that I was finally figuring out, at the same time, how to preach, with joy and about Jesus, verse by verse through an ENTIRE book of the Bible (which for me was an *entirely* new thing)? Did it help that I 'un-followed' a bunch of guys who were making me depressed?

Did the people start coming back 'cause the preaching, as a result of the process in me, was getting better?  Were they bored through the middle stretch of the book we were studying, just like I was?  As I, as their preacher, got refreshed did the same start happening for them?

Dunno'.

I just know that there's a strange wind in our sails these days.

I just know I'm not feeling as 'hemmed in' and 'trapped' as I've been feeling since September. 

It could be that I'm starting to 'accept' God's clear direction and settling down into my *actual* calling to do what I do (preach and produce) HERE in the 'provincial' backwater of town that is my home and that's meaning I'm kicking less against the 'goads' which means I'm plowing better which means the work is better which means the results should be clearer (which they are).

Dunno'.

I just know there's more fruit popping up these days.

Could it be that in finally getting my simple small sailboat and mooring it four minutes from my home on Lake Ontario I've stopped panicking that my 'dream' of taking to the seas (even if they're only the 'inland' kind for a while...) will never happen, and that's allowed me to re-focus on the task at hand?

Dunno'.

I just know that walking onto that dock four minutes from my house feels like walking into a whole other World.

Could it be that my friend's loss has inspired and re-focused this man and a host of others?

Dunno', and I sure as heck would never wish on him or anyone what he's endured.

But it just might be that his (and his 7 year old son's) loss is proving to be a mighty blessing to people around the World, and in my world.

I'm not *saying* any of this is the case, but I *can* say with certainty...

It's windy outside (the wind of the Spirit...) and I can FEEL it.

T

Carpe Diem...

I realize you're going to get sick of seeing pictures of the boat.

I'm not.

This is the end of the day, Sunday, when my Brother in law and I had arrived at our 'home' port. We stopped at the gas dock to check in, then made our way over to the dock to meet our cheering kids. 

As I walked the docks that evening, it was like I was having an out of body experience of sorts. I felt like I was walking through a dream. See, I've sat on the shores of our 'home' harbor for seven seasons straight, countless hours on the grass looking at the boats coming and going, dreaming of the day when I'd be coming and going.

So, to be there, doing it for the first time was breathtakingly wonderful. I was praying my thanksgiving ceaselessly in my heart as I walked.  The first time I used the 'fabled' key fob to get past the 'forbidden' gates to the marina I almost squealed.

Truly glorious.

And the joy of it for us was mixed with the very real pain of interceding for our dear friend whose wife was dying this week.

He's my age, she was a bit older, but nowhere near the age where you'd expect to get diagnosed with a brain tumor and be passing away less than a month later.

She died yesterday.

All of us who know them are groaning inwardly for our friend and his young son. It's been very sad and very meaningful at the same time as we've watched our friend's faith sustain him throughout, what must be, an impossibly difficult experience.

He's a pastor, leader of a thriving church that's part of a growing movement of churches. He's dedicated, focused, bright, passionate, hard-working, and now a widower.

At 35.

Heavy duty.

One of his last posts before his wife died said, "I am savoring every moment with my wife. You should be savoring every moment with yours..."

Yes Sir.  I'm listening.

Savor the moment. 

Use each moment.

Live full-speed.

Live thankfully, and in-fellowship with God, because life is short and doesn't make sense at all if you're living it exclusively for yourself.

I'm preaching the passage that leads up to this verse, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me..." this week at THE WELL.

Gonna' preach it for him.

Godspeed.

Carpe Diem...

T

Of boats, sore joints, and dreams...

I've been talking about her (no, not my wife...) a lot.

Here she is, in her 'element' for the first time in three years, back from the dead (or at least a serious season of 'neglect'), happily enveloped in a, very, loving family.

Introducing...

"Aiyalon"

She's a 'Mirage 24' which is a cheaper, Quebec-made, version of the classic 'C&C 24'. Many Canadians who end up cruising south, and even further afield, started sailing lake Ontario on a boat just like this.

She's small enough to be affordable but big enough (just) to do some weekend trips on.  We're going to cram all six of us onboard and sail as frequently and as far as we can this summer. Yes, we're ready for the strange looks we'll get when two adults and FOUR kids pile out of her on arrival at a marina.

I'm thrilled.

My whole life I've DREAMED, and I mean intensely, of having a 'keel boat', a sailboat we can take long-distances, sleep on, eat on and start learning the ropes of the 'cruising lifestyle' on.

Eventually I hope to have a boat big enough to entertain numerous guests on; a boat big enough to spend most of our summers aboard (commuting back for Sunday's at THE WELL) and on which, one day, we'll take off for either a sabbatical (which would mean an 'Atlantic Circle Cruise') or perhaps a longer trip. We'll see.

For now, we start small, but at least we start.

(and I have the extremely sore body--it's like every single joint hurts--to prove it)

It's been nice to have the boat to work on.

The HUGE deal we were expecting to close last week didn't (surprise, surprise--scroll back a year or more on this blog and you'll see me going through the EXACT same thing this time in 2009) and it was quite distressing for the wife and I.

It took us a few days to get through it.

Now, we're waiting, feeling a little more hopeful, trusting Jesus a bit more, and generally happy and realizing that, long-term, this very tense season we're in will work out like it usually does. So I work on the boat, get my 'real' work done in-between trips to the boat, and do my best to simply thank God for His mercy.

It's cool to be the youngest guy at the dock with his own keelboat.  I thought I would have missed that 'boat' (I'm not 26 anymore you know...) but no, I'm still fifteen to twenty years the junior of most of my dock-mates.

Here's the point for you...

Last year, sitting watching the boats go in and out of Bronte Harbor (like we've done for years) I turned to Niki (my wife) and said; "That's it, I don't care how cheap and small we have to go, I'm buying a boat for next season. I can't stand sitting here watching for one more year, I just can't..."

Yes, I'd just watched 'UP' and was feeling convicted to 'live' the life that God had called me to regardless of how silly it seems, 'cause I wasn't getting any younger.

True story:

When the boat went in the water this past Sunday, Niki's Mom and her aunt and her second cousin came to watch.  They all cheered when she went in the water and didn't SINK.

Anyway, once we'd docked her, and while my kids were crawling all over her, I stepped away to the adjacent dock to just look at her.  I was feeling very thankful...

Then I noticed Niki's second cousin standing nearby looking a little down. See, her husband died suddenly (at 52) last year and she's still, understandably, processing her loss. We got to talking.

And she told me it had always been her husband's dream to own his own boat. They'd even taken an introductory sailing course but had just never gotten 'round to buying a boat of their own.

So, watching us put our 'dream' (small and humble) into the water had her feeling a little sad.

Fair.

Can you feel the 'UP' moment I had standing there with her?  Can you feel how intensely I felt (for the second time) the urge to live life to the fullest RIGHT NOW?

Reading this, do you know what it is that you need to get out and DO, right now?

Thought so.

Go get to it.

I'll be thinking of you while I'm sailing with my family this year, hoping that you're not sitting on the sidelines dreaming...

T

Don't know what to say...

It occurs to me that I might be a complicated person.

Know any 'simple' ones?

I've taken to walking around the neighborhood like an old person.  Much of it has to do with my wife's newly busy (and getting busier) schedule. She's now officially a certified Personal Trainer and has launched her own small business. It's fun to watch as momentum arrives in her life. Seems like it's catching her a bit by surprise.  

I'm not surprised. 

She's talented, smart, very personable, duty-oriented, follow-through oriented, kind and very good-looking to boot.

(have you read about how the better looking you are--by your culture's norms--the easier it is for you to 'get ahead' in life? Scary, but true...)

She's also discovered what she loves to do and that is a surefire way to invite momentum to come to roost.

Anyway, as she gets busier, I'm having to--in some small ways--be more available at home to make sure the kids get what they need while Mom's out. Most of her classes are in the evening these days so that's been taking the form of me cooking dinner and feeding the kids then cleaning up, then chillin' with them a bit before she gets home.  Once she gets home, I've been putting on my runners and going for a stroll.

The intent of the stroll is not exercise; Lord knows we're getting enough of that training for our June 18th triathlon.

(for the record, I've lost 12 pounds since December...)

The stroll is for spiritual/emotional exercise.

I walk slowly and think and listen.

It's been good.

Last night I was doing some ongoing 'life review' work.  Thinking about who I am, who I used to be, who I might be becoming, and what I'm supposed to be 'doing' with my life. I'm also thinking about how the 'doing' of that thing might be able to be translated into 1) income generation so I can provide for my family and 2) continue being 'significant' enough (only in so far as it aligns with who I am and what I think I'm supposed to be doing) to keep me feeling like my life's not a waste.

It's been tough the last month.

We're still waiting on some news on the show biz side. We were supposed to hear last Friday but, as usual, the date got pushed to tomorrow.  So, all going well, we'll *know* tomorrow what the next year and half looks like.

I've found (as I always do) the waiting to be borderline 'soul sapping'.  I've said it here before but, the wife and I agree, that the only thing we find difficult about *faith* is faith.  Truth is, I find it hard to not be 'doing' which is weird 'cause I'm kind of a contemplative guy and not your typical workaholic.  I tend to be silent or idle for a stretch then work in a blur for a stretch accomplishing what I need to accomplish, usually at a fairly high level.  The challenge is to continue to self-examine in that I don't want to just slip into being a lazy procrastinator but also want to be sure that I accept my *wiring* allowing myself to work in the way for which I've been designed.

A tough task.

On on the other front, we've definitely hit our spring/summer attendance slump at THE WELL. We've been down 20% the last four weeks in a row.  It's true that, regardless of the size of church you attend, this will be happening all around you.  It's also true that in a room of 1,000 you notice the missing 200 less than you do in a room of 70.  And the simple reality is, no matter how hard you try, the growth or non-growth of your church *gets* to you over time. You begin wondering, questioning, second-guessing, stressing, and generally putting yourself into a faith-less, soul-sapping mind frame.

Stuck between these two 'rocks', my wife and I are working really hard to take honest stock of our lives each and every day. We're doing the classic *count your blessings* thing. We're thanking God for the small blessings and trying to focus on a simple 'ethic' in our life.

Funny how I forget.

I remember going through this at my last church.  I remember the summers being a time where I had to give myself permission to 'slack off' a bit. I recall forcing myself to just enjoy the good weather and not stress too much about what was happening in the life of the church. With so many people away and the rest of them very content to just laze the warm season away, spring/summer (in Canada) is no time to be getting ambitious about church growth or vitality.

So, here I sit, trying very hard to re-focus.  Trying to figure out what to do come fall (re: sermon-series, location, programming etc.) and wondering if I'm going to be getting paid (from the show-biz side) and even if the floodgates are suddenly going to flood open and how I'm going to weather that.

Anyway.

It's a tough spot.

Figured I'd write about it to 1) process and 2) because I was thinking about a thing I read on FB a while back where some girl was lamenting the fact that everybody always seems so 'happy' and 'together' based on their status updates.

I recognize that the nature of social media makes it tough to be really honest.  You'll see this to be the case when one of your friends posts a status that's even slightly depressed or down and a raft of friends chime in, over-reacting to the status, asking if they can help and so on.  How to really tell the truth when 'The World' (of your friends and their friends) is watching?

Also, I don't think any of us really want to parade our naked soul.

So, how much do you say and how much do you keep close?

Tough one.

I'm hoping here to be less-narcissistic and less-self-promotional than the medium, and my nature, want me to be while, perhaps, being of help to you and help to myself.

Knowing that, ultimately, we can't really help ourselves.

(how 'bout THAT for a useful double-entendre?)

Hoping for happier days...

T

A dream fulfilled...

Big day in 'Todd World' today.

I closed on a boat.

A real, live, will (barely) fit my family, keelboat.

Something, I've been dreaming about since I was 12.  And when I say 'dreaming' I mean actively so. If I were to sit down and count the number of hours I've spent wandering around boat yards and marinas, dreaming about the day when I'll have my 'own' boat to be working on come spring, my 'own' boat to be launching come May, my 'own' boat to be figuring out how to dock elegantly at the marina in Bronte Village, my 'own' boat to bring friends and family to, my 'own' boat to sail the lakes (and someday the 'beyond') on, my 'own' boat to sip a glass of red wine on with my friends as the kids fall asleep below, my 'own' boat to take out in a storm just to see how close to the edge I can get, my 'own' boat to--one day--take me and my wife (and maybe the kids) over the horizon (and back) I'd have to conservatively say it would add up to...

364 hours in the past 14 years.

That's 15.2 ENTIRE DAYS spent wandering marinas, dreaming.

(a six month season x 3 days a week x 20 minutes per visit x 14 years of doing it divided by sixty times 24)

As my wife says; "Obsession!"

That said you can understand why today was such a good day, taking the broker an envelope full of cash, handing it over, shaking his hand and pocketing a signed bill of sale.

For "Aiyalon", my first real sailboat.

("Aiyalon Entertainment" is the name of my production company and "Aiyalon" will be the name of all my boats--not just so I can write the boats and their expenses off--but because "Aiyalon" refers to the Valley of Aiyalon in the OT where God made time stand still so His people could defeat their enemies.  I figure that's what good entertainment does, makes time 'stand still', and for dang sure, that's what a sailboat does for me)

Makes TIME stand still.

Aiyalon.

Got a nice ring to it.

I stink like varnish.  I was re-doing her brightwork today. She doesn't have much of it, all the more reason to make sure that what she does have, looks awesome.

Lemme' say this.

I decided last season (spring/summer/fall 2009) that that was it, I wasn't going to spend another season sitting on the grassy hill beside the marina watching longingly (almost with palpable pain in my heart) as all the boats came and went on those breezy summer nights.  We were sitting there one night--ice cream with the kids our usual deal--and I just turned to Niki and said; "That's it, I don't care what I have to do, next year we're going to be on the water."

I think, as an aside, that we'd just seen "UP" and I was cut to the heart with the need to embrace 'today' for all it has.

It's now next year.

And we're going to be on the water.

I will admit that I've spent the entire year, doing my best to squirrel away the money needed to make this purchase.  I've watched my account, pared down my spending, been careful to tithe faithfully, talked lots with my wife about it so that we can plan accordingly, basically done whatever it takes to make this happen.

To make a dream come true.

I realize, of course, that there are larger forces at play here.  I 'get' that I'm not actually making anything happen.  I spent a lot of time praying thankfully today, believe me.

But it's a combination.

God rules, we obey.

God ordains, we work.

God calls, we dream and follow.

God gives, we bless, thank and serve.

God gives wind...

We sail.

Oh yes we do, we do, we do...

T