Considering a Flight Out of Newark

It was precisely 30 days, 6 beds and 4 states after our arrival in Newark.  As the plane descended that day, CavGirl shouted “Green!” with glee over seeing so much green that is decidedly missing in the desert.  It was a great vacation.  My one complaint was that I didn’t get as much sleep as I wanted (and I didn’t get to go to Fenway).  This was partly because my in-laws don’t believe in using shades, blinds or anything else that blocks the light from entering the windows.  This means the CavKids got up early.  They would inevitably decide to wake me up.

This morning was no different, though a little bit earlier.  For government work, I’d say around 6:30 or so they roosted me from my slumber.  It would be the beginning of a long day, that would not end until about 3:30 in the morning after crossing the country.  It was not as strange the first trip, but strange in its own way.

After our good-byes, we climbed into the Envoy for the long trip to NJ.  Deciding to save CavWife from car sickness, I sat in the middle section.  I thought that after we got out of the mountains we’d switch.  I … was …. wrong.  This meant I spent about 4 hours unable to stretch my legs except for the stops at rest areas necessitated by traveling with 2 young children and 2 retirees.

Finally we arrived at one of CavWife’s sister’s home.  She fed us a late lunch.  The kids were able to get some exercise in the pool.  Soon they beckoned me to join them.  I dragged my aching back into the pool while CavWife spent time talking with her parents and 2 of her sisters.  At one point I inadvertently ran CavGirl over with the raft CavSon was in.  She was a trooper, hanging on and bobbing back up without getting scared.  Ah, progress.

Then back into the car for the ride to Newark and the airport.  This time I lodged myself into the front passenger’s seat.  No, didn’t call shotgun.  After another hour or so in the car, we arrived and were dropped off.  We paid the sky caps to take care of our bags rather than wait in a long line.  He must have been new because our boarding passes took forever.  His name was long, and unpronounceable.  “Welcome to America!  Here, have a job checking our bags.”  He must have thought us a strange culture.

We made our way through security, and then the fun started.  We were in the same terminal but all the things we didn’t notice in our previous exhaustion soon became apparent.  It is a smaller terminal.  Operative word here is smaller.  There was precisely one sit down restaurant.  We didn’t want to sit down for dinner.  It was around 6 and we wanted something to carry on to the plan.  Mrs. Obama would be happy, there was no McDonalds.  We were not so happy.  There was only a newstand that sold $8 sandwiches.  Yes, $8 for prepackaged sandwiches you could get at 7-11 for half that.  You have to love the whole captive passenger thing.

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Considering John Stott

I did something I rarely do yesterday.  I checked my Facebook via my semi-smart phone (or is it quasi-smart?).  I was traveling with the family all day and decided to do a status update for some reason.  That’s when I saw that one of my friends mentioned John Stott’s death.  If the death of His saints is precious in His sight, it should also be in ours.

Acts says that David served God’s purposes for his generation.  The same, I think, can be said for John Stott.  Oh, some will lament his views on annihilation (as do I), but overall he was a faithful servant of Christ and was a key figure among British evangelicals, as was J.I. Packer.  His impact was not limited to England.  In the late 90’s I went on 3 mission trips to assist Armonia, a ministry in Mexico City committed to urban transformation.  Saul Cruz had studied under John Stott, and their ministries were linked in some way if I remember correctly on this sleep-deprived day.

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Considering Study Leave

The other day I was talking to a church planter and the topic of study leave came up.  He wasn’t sure how I approached study leave.  Some guys prepare for upcoming sermon series by reading a commentary or two.  I usually don’t approach it that way.  I use study leave, primarily, to do the things I often don’t have time to do in the regular rhythm of pastoral life.

I try to read a book in an area of interest or weakness.  Recently, while preparing a sermon, I noticed my library was lacking books specifically on the Trinity.  So on this study leave I read Fred Sanders’ book on the Trinity, The Deep Things of God.  We all have areas as pastors we have not studied deeply.  There are some issues (the doctrines of grace, spiritual gifts, leadership or eschatology) that pastors spend lots of time reading and thinking.  But there are many we neglect, and are neglected by authors.  The Trinity is just one of those.  I’d also include Christology, the atonement and the Sacraments (though baptism is popular, but not as part of understanding sacraments).

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Considering Practicing Affirmation

Our personal history can help us, or hinder us.  I don’t recall my childhood being one filled with affirmation and praise.  I seem quite capable of affirming the kids, but struggle at times when I need to affirm adults.  I’m not sure why that is.  Perhaps because they don’t often learn new things, and much of my affirming the kids comes as they gain new skills.

Many kids today are growing up in an era of “fake affirmation”.  They are affirmed so much for so many things they probably wonder if they can do any wrong.  Maybe I had a graduation ceremony for elementary.  I can’t remember.  But today every little milestone is celebrated so that those that actually have meaning have their meaning minimized.

So there are two errors that can take place: the neglect and over-use of affirmation.  One aspect of over-use is the man-centered aspect of affirmation.  It is into this context that Sam Crabtree has written his long-needed book Practicing Affirmation.  He believes that Christians should practice commending others to the glory of God.   In other words, we commend them for character, attitudes and actions that reflect the character, attitudes and actions of God.  As a result, we are praising God as we commend them.  This keeps us from what he calls idolatrous commendation, and failing to commend (just as sinful as the other extreme).

This is a fairly short book that seeks to facilitate the practice of affirmation.  It is not just defending the practice, though he does do that.  And there are some questions or arguments he spends more time on.  For instance, he spends much time refuting the argument that non-Christians should not be commended.  He rightly asserts that such a conclusion neglects two very important biblical truths.  First, as James 3 notes, people still bear God’s image.  Though unregenerate, non-Christians still bear some testimony to the God whose image they reflect.  Second, due to common grace even non-Christians can grow in relative character and act in ways that are commendable.

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Considering a Trip Home

Right now I’m stuck.  Flat tire.  You know how that goes.  Planus interruptus.  Instead of heading to church, we are stuck at the Farm because I can’t seem to lower the spare tire.  As annoying as it may be, it is not as annoying as if it had happened Friday while we were driving home back from NH in the midst of a heat wave.  That would have been worse, especially in light of my inability to lower that spare tire.  We passed one poor soul whose jack had dug into the hot pavement, unable to lift his vehicle.

Before traveling to NH to visit my parents, we decided it was time for a haircut.  The “Butcher of Bakers Mills” discovered the clippers, held together by duct tape, only had 2 attachments.  So I got buzzed pretty good.  I decided this was a good time to remove 3 weeks’ worth of stubble from my face.  I ended up looking like one of my brothers.  So I thought.

She's got an idea...

But even before this… CavGirl stepped on a nail while playing in the woods with her cousins.  CavWife heard some screaming over the persistent sound of Pop-Pop’s lawnmower.  He big cousin Evan carried her to her aunt’s house.  It bled alot, which was good.  And she seemed to do well.  We agonized over whether or not she needed a tetanus booster.  We relented since it had been 5 years.  The doctor decided she needed antibiotics just in case.  2 problems.  First, he gave her a liquid.  Second, he said it didn’t taste very good.  I want to smack this guy.  Though this could be the reason he is practicing medicine in the middle of nowhere.  For most of the 10 day protocol of antibiotics, 4 times a day, we had to deal with screaming, running, gagging and more.  A few night’s later I watched Inception with my oldest niece.  He planted the idea in her mind that this would taste horrible and like Cobb we couldn’t get the thought out of her mind.

With renters in the main house, we headed down to CavWife’s sister’s home.  Down into the cave so the morning sun wouldn’t wake me up.  But the footsteps would.  But before a night’s sleep, we went to someone’s house on Garnett Lake.  He is the retired basketball coach from Wheaton.  He and his wife were great hosts as we sat by the lake with one eye on the kids while we talked about life.  Then I slept in the 4th bed on this trip.

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Considering the Circus

When you’re a kid, there are few things more exciting than a circus.  When you are the parent … there are few things as frustrating.  And enjoyable.  We experiences all of that and more on our recent trip to the circus while on vacation.  Seen thru the eyes of faith, there are few things that more clearly give us a vision of the creation mandate.

There is the blessing, and the curse.  You see people subduing part of creation.  The trainers have various animals performing prepared routines.  While this could lead to exploitation, it isn’t necessarily the exploitation of the animals.  We see people exercising the authority God gave humanity at creation.

We also witness some performers mastering the “laws of nature” to perform great feats that exceed our imagination.  I love to see people do such things.  It is a glimpse of glory.

Then there is the curse.  Sometimes people and animals are exploited.  Some of the performers are treated like, or act like, sexual objects.  One of the performers had a very casual and scarily seductive way about her.  Sex can sell, and she was using it to keep her job.  That’s sad because her skills exceeded the other women she was working with.  They were more awkward.  She seemed a natural, but the look on her face seemed to invite more than admiration of skill.

The curse is also seen in the crass greed.  They had some good sale pitches.  For instance, peanuts were only sold for 5 minutes and might include a coupon for a free balloon.  The stick of the balloon won by the girl in front of my kept hitting me and poking me.  Not so much fun.  But I felt like Pilgrim at Vanity Fair: buy this, eat that, ride this…. The onslaught was non-stop, and my kids would have been willing victims.  Thankfully, we don’t carry much cash so they didn’t get all the pony or camel rides, popcorn, etc. that their hearts desired.

So, our recent trip to the “one ring circus” was filled with glory and depravity.  It is a microcosm of life.  And I find that interesting.

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Considering Life in the Middle of Nowhere

I grew up in the 2-time Money Magazine #1 City to live in.  Of course this was after I moved away (is there a correlation or causation there?).  I spent about 7 years in Orlando, FL.  My 10+ years in Winter Haven were small city-ish.  I now live in a large city again.  But my in-laws live in the middle of nowhere.

Seriously. Friends visiting us there asked where the town was.  “You’re in it.”  The only non-residential buildings I’ve seen are the Post Office, volunteer fire station and the church.  The school is 6 miles and 2 towns over.  The nearest Wal-Mart is about 40 minutes away, as is the nearest mall and actual movie theatre.  Cell-phone coverage?  About 9 square feet on the back porch.  There are only 2 gas stations within 15-20 minutes, and they are next door to each other.

Here in the middle of nowhere, we have chickens and guinea hens.  It is amusing to see a chicken running across the lawn.  Or to see a gaggle of guineas hooting their way around the yard.  This year we discovered a hen being followed by 18 chicks.  The days of mail order chicks may be done.  But there is talk of a highland (or furry) cow.

Mystery Animal

When you live in the middle of nowhere, one of the things you do for fun (read: entertain the kids) is visit petting zoos and alpaca farms.  Each year we make our pilgrimage to the Word of Life Ranch.  I say ‘hi’ to the llama with the offset jaw.  He’s a reminder to me that I am loved by God despite my own brokenness.  The young kids love the goats, sheep, rabbits, horses and more.

This year we stopped in on an alpaca farm.  What, you ask, is an alpaca?  It is part of the same family as the camel, and looks like a smaller version of a llama.  They are not beasts of burden, like the camel and llama because of their size.  Like sheep, they are shorn and their fur is turned into yarn.  Don’t tell the lady who raises them, and calls them all by name, but they are also raised for their meat.

They are fascinating creatures.  Unlike most livestock, they use a common “bathroom” to prevent predators from tracking them.  They are basically helpless.  Which is why it was so funny to watch 2 of them fight.  It was like two geeks trying to hit each other (I can still use the word geek, right?).  Their necks were intertwined (see the picture of the shorn alpacas) and they made camel like grunts while spitting.  See, there is a common denominator between the 3- spitting.  They roll around in the dirt to cool off and lay with their bellies exposed to the sun to soak up the vitamin D.

There's an alpaca under there!

Life here is very different from any life I’ve known.  This summer has been interesting in some new ways.  For instance, this was the first time we were up here for the 4th of July.  We often travel the 11 miles and 30 minutes to a beach a few more towns over.  We decided to head over there on the 2nd of July.  One of the kids’ cousins from NJ decided she wanted to spend birthday up here.  We went to the beach to play and have a cookout.  We didn’t realize it was [name of town] Day.  I guess each year they have their annual meeting, have a parade, covered dish BBQ and watch the fire works.  Could your town have a covered dish BBQ at the local park?  In the process of preparations, we had to move about 3 times on the beach.  We made sure our food was ready before the parade.

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Considering the Deep Things of God

Earlier this year I made a sad discovery.  I discovered that I have no books on the Trinity.  I have plenty of Systematic Theologies with sections on the Trinity.  The closest thing to a book on the Trinity in my library was probably J.I. Packer’s Knowing God.  While not on the Trinity, as an heir to the Puritans he was quite Trinitarian in his theological approach.  So, in the words of Uncle Duncan in Braveheart, “We’ll have to rectify that.”

“Forget the Trinity and you forget why we do what we do; you forget who we are as gospel Christians; you forget how we got to be like we are.”

One of the books I bought to remedy that was Fred Sanders’ book The Deep Things of God: How the Trinity Changes Everything.  I’m on a combination of vacation and study leave, so I thought this was a good time to read it.  I’d have a bit more time to think on it.

Prior to leaving on vacation the guy who lives with us commented “he keeps talking about evangelicalism”.  Sanders’ point is that Trinitarian thinking has long been foundational to evangelical thinking.  This foundation has been cracking of late as the implicit has been largely forgotten or at least seen as non-essential.  His goal is limited to evangelicalism.  This is the Christian heritage of which he is a part and which he wants to be healthy and growing.  He’s not trying to evaluate and critique other traditions in the visible church.

These means that while Sanders uses Scripture, he’s not putting forth a biblical-theological defense of the Trinity.  He’s more concerned with how our Trinitarianism plays out in our understanding of our faith and practice.  So the reader must keep this focus in mind and not expect something profoundly different.

Sanders does draw on the writings of earlier evangelicals of different stripes to illustrate how deep the heritage runs (and how shallow our present experience).  So you find sections looking at Francis Schaeffer, Susanna Wesley, C.S. Lewis, Adolph Sahpir, Henry Scougal and more.

“A gospel that rearranges the components of your life but does not put you personally in the presence of God is too small.”

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Considering Love Tanks

Like many people getting ready to be married, CavWife and I read The Five Love Languages.  It has become a cottage industry for Gary Chapman.  It highlighted a very important truth that all married people need to understand: you perceive and show love differently!

In his book Seeing With New Eyes, David Powlison reveals some of the serious shortcomings of the rest of the book, particularly the concept of love tanks.  I’m surprised I didn’t blog on this book.  Since I’m not currently at home, I can’t refer to the book.

But this morning I listened to a sermon by Tim Keller on marriage that I think interacted with the concept in a significant way.  He did this in terms of “leaving and cleaving.”  I found myself thinking about my own marriage while listening to him (yes, that was the point, wasn’t it?).

In his wife’s family of origin, her father was very involved in family life and chores.  He helped out around the house, changed diapers etc.  This was how he loved his wife.  And this was what Tim’s wife thought a husband does to love his wife.

In Tim’s family of origin, his mother did everything in the house.  He father was not involved in changing diapers, vacuuming the carpet, folding clothes etc.  This was how she loved him.  She recognized he worked long and hard outside of the home.  This was not “her duty” but her delight out of love.

What do you think happened when Tim had his first child?  Their very different experiences rose to the service.  His expectation to have her change the baby’s diapers was heard by her as “he doesn’t love me.”  Her refusal to step in and remove that from him was heard by him as “she doesn’t love me.”  Okay- this is not (NOT) about roles.  This is about how we give & receive love.  Which one of them was to “submit” and change how they give and receive love?  Their views, oddly enough, we polar opposites.  So either one of them caves, or they find a new way.

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Considering the Trinity and Translation

The attempts of missions organizations like Wycliffe to translate the Bible into languages in predominantly Muslim cultures has hit a snag recently.  The Insider Movement was an issue at some General Assemblies this past year.  The issue is about the interface of translation and cultural context.  For Muslims the concept of God the Son is quite troubling and offensive.  When we say that they are importing an meaning that is quite different from what we intend.  They think of it in a most crass sense, as if God the Father was Apollo cavorting with women.

There is a way in which these concerns seem valid on the surface.  If care about success more than faithfulness.  They are not mutually exclusive.  We should want the gospel to prosper, but not at the expense of faithfulness to the message.  This tension plays out in ministry philosophy (I hate using those 2 words together), church growth and more.  Translation principles is not the only place this plays out.

As ambassadors of Christ (2 Cor. 5), we are to faithfully relate the message He has given us to proclaim.  He is far wiser than us, so we should not presume to radically alter the message He has given us in the name of contextualization.  Contextualization is intended to assist meaning, not obscure it.

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Considering Lake Placid, NY

Years ago CavWife and I took a trip with her parents to Lake Placid.  It was the dead of winter.  I have rarely been colder.  We had lunch that day at the Great Adirondack Steak and Seafood.  In order to get there from our car we had to walk between a large gap in the buildings that led to Mirror Lake.  Can you say Wind Tunnel?  It was worse than the one by the dorms near Nickerson Field at Boston University.  Cold.  Real cold.  Extreme cold.

Mmmmm.... popcorn

My in-laws took care of the kids today while CavWife and I made our way to Lake Placid with her sister and brother-in-law.  No snow on the ground this time.  No ice on the ground this time.  No one else at the wheel this time.  I love driving those twisty roads in a decent car.  No Pop-Pop mobile today.  It was J-9’s G6.  It was an enjoyable ride.

We stopped at one point to take pictures of some guys climbing rock faces.  We enjoyed pondering the lakes apparently created by the infamous “jumping glacier”.  We also passed the Olympic ski jump which was impressive even without snow.  Finally we rolled into the village of Lake Placid.  We made our way down Main Street to find a parking space.  The meters were a slightly different concept.    You periodically had a meter that put out receipts you placed on your dash.  That was a new one to me.

We got a good laugh as some of the local police patrolled the strip in little electric cars.  No high speed chases for these guys.  We found a nice spot at the end of the strip that overlooked Mirror Lake.  Just beautiful with the mountains in the background.  So much green (live in the desert for a year and you’ll crave green too!).

CavWife and her sister were focused on finding the restaurant.  It has its own microbrews and we had an old 1/2 gallon jug of theirs we wanted filled with a good beer or ale.  I wanted to just look around and enjoy the place. We stumbled upon the old “wind tunnel” from our previous trip.  Now it was green and beautiful, overlooking the lake as well.  There were some chair down there and it would be a great place to sit and enjoy a book or some conversation with a beer and cigar.

See, Ridiculous!

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Considering Mirror Ball

In his newest book, worship leader and song writer Matt Redman, uses a Mirror Ball as a metaphor for the main message of the book.  The mirror ball is not a source of light, but does reflect light so that light is sent into many different directions and many different places.  The glory of God in the gospel is like light (2 Cor. 4) which transforms us (2 Cor. 3).  This is essentially what the book is about.

“Worship doesn’t start with you.  It begins and ends with a merciful, majestic, and powerful God.”

When most of us think about worship, we think about worship services, songs, prayers and the like.  But Matt rightly (biblically) expands that notion to all of life.  The words translated worship usually mean service or to pay homage to someone.  You serve the one you worship.  His point is about integrity of life.  We can sing and wave our hands all you want, but if you live the rest of your time as if God didn’t exist you are not a worshiper of God.

“The true test of our passion for God will always be our lives. … It involves a life laid down in service and adoration.  The concrete evidence of whether our worship has lived or died in us will always be our lives.”

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Considering the Original Curse

I’ve enjoyed sports and history as long as I can remember.  As a kid I would read lots of sports biographies- including some of the dreaded Yankees.  My dislike for the Yankees didn’t keep me from appreciating the skill of some of their players.  Of course most of the ones I appreciated were from eras when the Red Sox were essentially uncompetitive.

Sometimes books come along that allow me to revisit sports and history.  Sean Deveney’s The Original Curse is one of those books.  Deveney puts the 1918 World Series into its historical context, and that context is vital to his main thesis.  His thesis, which he admits cannot prove, is that the Cubs threw the 1918 World Series.  This is particularly intriguing as a result of the futility that plagued both teams since that World Series.  The Red Sox’ futility has only recently ended, but the Cubs’ continues.  Such utter inability to win championships is astounding to say the least- particularly since they were both so successful before that time.  This was the 5th World Series victory for the Red Sox.

“Prosperity tends to provide a pretty big blind spot.”

Deveney focuses on a few things outside of baseball.  World War I wrecked havoc on the world economy.  While ball players were well paid, inflation in the few years leading up to the 1918 World Series was about 55%.  Their good paychecks did not go as far as they used to go.

World War I put pressure on the players themselves as well as the game.  Some of the players were drafted during the season.  There was controversy as to whether or not to end the season.  Players were viewed as slackers because they were not directly assisting the war effort.  The War Department had underestimated what it would take to get fully involved in the conflict.  They put off requests from baseball for clarification repeatedly.  Some players left the pros to work in the shipyards which often had ball teams.  Many of these guys didn’t work but just played ball.

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Considering Time and Worship

"Fix your eyes upon Jesus..."

The length of worship services has been an issue for as long as the church as existed.  Paul preached so long at one evening gathering that a guy fell asleep and dropped out the window.  Most of us are used to people falling asleep on us.

Some shared an article from our cousins over the pond about the length of worship services.  The basic point of a bishop was that more people will come more regularly if the service is shorter.  At one point the Anglican service was about 50 minutes.  Knowing they celebrate the Table each Sunday, I find this hard to believe.

But the Bishop of Lichfield thinks that servies have become too long and too complicated.  As a result, non-regular church goers are increasingly confused and unwilling to show up.  One survey indicates that Anglican clergy are preaching for as long as 42 minutes and services have crept up to 90 minutes.  But it isn’t just the sermon that is longer.  They are singing and praying longer (perish the thought- discipline these hacks!).

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Considering Enemies of the Heart

Enemies of the Heart: Breaking Free from the Four Emotions that Control You by Andy Stanley is a pretty good book.  Andy is a great communicator.  That means, for the most part, the book is interesting, easy to read and potentially impactful.  It is an updated version of It Came from Within.

His premise is that most of us are controlled by guilt, anger, greed and jealousy.  I would agree that these sins- I have a hard time calling greed an emotion- make war on our souls and flow out of our hearts.  His theology, as a pastor he should have a theology, is fuzzy at times.  He’s a bit inconsistent as to whether they flow out of our sinful hearts or attacking our hearts.  It does matter.

Andy seems to be writing for unchurched or newly churched people.  This, it seems, is his niche.  He avoids theological terms, which is perfectly fine.  At times, however, it is shorter than it need be on theological concepts.  So, while it is far deeper than most self-help books, at times Andy doesn’t go far enough.

First he identifies each of the 4 in order.  Then he cycles through them 2 more times in how to confront them and how to put on new habits.  He is typically clear and practical in his orientation.  I found a fair amount of the book pertinent to my own life and struggle with sin.

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Considering the Jersey Shore

This was my first trip to the Jersey Shore.  I’ve enjoyed other parts of New Jersey, and endured other parts.  But I’ve never been to the shore.  One of CavWife’s sisters worked there for a few summers.  For nearly a decade, a large part of her family has been going to the shore after school gets out but before the seasonal rates increase, meaning before July 4th weekend.

Don’t think about a bunch of Guidos.  Spring Lake is nothing like that.  Spring Lake is upscale- very upscale.  Lots of Victorian homes, bed and breakfasts, and a few hotels.  We stayed in one of those hotels- The Breakers on the Beach.  We were late additions to the vacation plans, and we got the last room available: the penthouse.  Well, that’s what we called it.  The elevator when to the 4th floor, but we were on the 6th (though there was no 5th- I don’t understand either).  I expected some more living space but it was about the same, though the bathroom was larger.  But the views…. we had better, panoramic views.  We also had a gas fireplace.

Our Room

What we didn’t have was 2 beds, or a suite style room.  There was a fold-out sleep sofa.  This was to be CavBoy’s bed.  Initially we were going to have CavGirl go to sleep and then move her to the sleep sofa.  But it just didn’t work out that way as he did his usual sprawl across the bed.  This put the rest of us on the king size bed.  Somehow I was in the middle.  As a result, I spent 2 nights getting whacked and kicked by my daughter.  The pillows were huge and fluffy, quite the opposite of the pillows from the night before.  Almost everyone who used them woke up with a sore neck.  In the middle of the 2nd night, I cast mine onto the floor and slept pillow-less.

Our entire entourage was 24 people in 6 different rooms.  Lots of kids.  But most of the other guests were in the same boat so we didn’t drive too many people at the hotel crazy.  You were not supposed to wear beach attire in the lobby since they had a relatively upscale restaurant there.  We had to come and go through the basement to either the beach or the pool area.  This was the first time I ever needed a beach pass.  The adults had little pins to prove you had beach access.  If you didn’t have one, you could buy a wrist band for $8/day to have access to the beach.  Lots of rules, but the beach was pretty clean and well kept.  You could see the life guards training as they prepared for the summer rush that was about to hit them.  They got plenty of work with the whistle as people would drift too close to the breakers.  If those waves pushed you against the rocks, they would do serious damage.

The boardwalk was initially built by the WPA in 1937, stretching for a good distance for all those interested in walking or jogging.  It was very beautiful.  I hadn’t heard the sound of the surf for over a year.  It was a welcome sound- relaxing and peaceful.  After getting on the beach- after spending a long time lathering up- I took a good long walk on the beach thinking about ministry, ambition and other matters.  No iPod- does that surprise you?  But I didn’t want lots of sand to muck it up.

I tried to get into the water.  It was like a liquid ice flow.  I’ve been spoiled by that Gulf Coast water.  This was like Gulf Coast circa February.  Cold, reason I left New England cold.  Body parts retreating in agony cold.  And there was something strange in the water.  Tiny jellyfish.  No one warned me about this.  Thankfully they didn’t sting.  They just got all over you, stuck to you like … jelly.  Waiting to die and give you an unpleasant odor.  Yeah, not exciting.

By late afternoon, as the sun started to work its way through the sun block I made my way to the pool, and some shade, with the kids.  I had read some more of The Original Curse and talked with numerous people from the entourage.  CavSon was having a ball in the kiddie pool, which used to be hot tub the overly friendly lady in the yellow dress told me.  I soaked my feet as CavSon refused to talk to her daughter who inexplicably had one of those inflatable ducks kids float in- in the kiddie pool.  Where is CavWife to run interference.  Then again, why would this person be interested in me.  I’m feeling less than attractive with a few extra pounds around the middle covered by my t-shirt.  But I’m told my legs are still sexy.  Maybe it was those legs.  Maybe it was just wishful thinking since I’m feeling oh so unattractive.

Then I notice the kiddie pool seems to be filled with jelly fish from the 50 kids who have been there earlier in the day.  I’m kinda grossed out.  I want to leave, ASAP.  But CavSon is having too much fun.  And he’s NOT going into the big pool.  CavGirl is trying to remember her swimming lessons, but needs dad to help her.  So off I go to help her, having to remove my shirt and feeling awkward and gross.  At some point I became my father, minus the powerful forearms, and I’m not liking it.

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