Are They / They Are Among Us

All Coloradoans are proud and relieved – I know I am. We are leading the nation in a much needed area of concern: Space aliens. Yesterday, Jeff Peckman made a proposal before the Denver city council to establish an Extra-Terrestrial Affairs Commission, and at a bargain price of only 75,000 taxpayer dollars. I can tell you’re already jealous. I’m surprised that some city in California hasn’t beat us to it (and for all I know they may have already), but it is still a proud day for Colorado. We will have a detailed plan for what to do, not if, but when we encounter space aliens. Our emergency workers will be trained in how to respond to run-ins with extra-terrestrials. And to think, I would have been ignorant had I happened to meet a space alien before this training was available. It makes me thankful there are people who have the time and interest to look after me in my ignorance. The only obstacle now to getting it on the ballot in November is 4,000 signatures. Sign me up! It will be a perfect complement to the other major issue in the November election.

Roofing 101

I didn’t realize there was such a controversy over hammer versus air gun for putting shingles on your roof. In fact, the only one I’ve heard who thinks that old school is superior is Greg, but then again, Greg has never seen me swing a hammer. I figured it up – each bundle of shingles has 22 shingles and I have 150 bundles of shingles (plus 9 boxes of ridge cap shingles) to lay. Putting 5 nails in each shingle would mean, if I was able to drive each nail with one swing – which I can’t – I would swing the hammer more than 17,000 times (and that’s not even taking into account the misses, which would be many, where I put a divot into the face of the shingle or bend a nail sideways). So far with an air gun, in one day, I’ve put up about 500 sq. ft. of shingles and haven’t noticed a badly driven nail yet. I do carry a hammer for the occasional double tap (two nails at once), and drive the second one in, but other than that, I’ve only seen a remarkable consistency from the air nailer that I couldn’t begin to accomplish by hammer.

The real story was Saturday morning, when Brent and his two sons, Nick and Jessie showed up to help me get the shingles on the roof. Brent, who is a member at our church, is a general contractor here in the valley, and one of the most sought-after in Aspen (which is saying a lot!). He heard that I was going to roof my own house and knew I was in over my head. He offered to come over and help, and despite my polite refusal, he insisted it was no problem. So he, Nick and Jessie (both also in the construction business) showed up on their day off. Brent brought his skid loader (a fork lift on steroids) and lifted the pallets of shingles up above the porch where we carried them up to the different areas of the roof. After about an hour, I knew I was in trouble – I definitely wasn’t up to the task physically. The bundles weigh 80 lbs. and hoisting them on your shoulder and carrying them up a steep pitched roof to the top and stacking them is more than my sedentary lifestyle had prepared me for (who was I kidding thinking I could do it myself carrying each bundle up a ladder to the top of the roof?) These guys were like machines – they weren’t even breathing hard! I told Brent I swore I would never be out-worked by a 20 year old, and he said, “Don’t feel bad – these aren’t just any 20 year olds – these are my sons. They have been doing this since 4th grade.”

When we had finished getting the shingles on the roof, Brent started nailing the shingles – we have a skylight above the entryway and he also knew it was going to be more complicated than I realized. So he not only nailed about 20 rows of shingles, but cut, bent and put the flashing around the skylight. Watching him work was like watching an artist. He did everything so skillfully and precisely – he never had to stop and think how to do something – it was all second nature. I watched in awe… and more than a little humbled – not because I didn’t know as much as Brent, but because before that moment, I didn’t even know that I didn’t know – the worst kind of ignorance. That I thought I could do this by myself was the height of arrogance – and what a mess I would have made if I had. But Brent and his sons not only got me well on the way, and instructed me on the details I would need to handle, but literally saved my life (even helping carry the shingles, I was probably on the verge of a physical meltdown). I am indebted to three guys who were angels from God.

A (Not So) Quiet Week...

Interesting week so far. Garrison Keillor often starts out, “It’s been a quiet week around Lake Wobegon….” Well, though nothing earth shattering, it’s been busy, and is about to get busier.

A man named Stephan, who has colon cancer was traveling from California to Tennessee by Amtrak last week (to go be with family), and made it as far as Glenwood Springs before his pain became so bad they had to have the ambulance meet him at the train station and take him to the local hospital to have surgery (gall bladder). His uncle called me from Tennessee and asked if I would visit him, and of course, I said yes. Stephan is a fascinating man, and I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know him. On Tuesday I ended up getting him out of the hospital and back down to the train station, just as the train was pulling into the station for a brief whistle stop. I had to talk them into not pulling out while he went to get his ticket, but we got him on and down the road. (Epilogue: I just spoke to him and he made it successfully to Tennessee and is with his family now.)

We had the Cascade College Chorus come to Glenwood on Wednesday as they make their end-of-the-year tour. They sang Wednesday night, we fed them and housed them, and then they headed down the road on Thursday morning. They arrived in 75 degrees, short sleeve weather, and the next morning woke up to new snow. (Epilogue: They were headed east and had to put chains on to get over Vail Pass, but after that said the driving was fine down to Longmont, CO, their next stop.)

This morning, I had 5,000 sq. ft. of shingles (150 bundles on 4 pallets) delivered to the house, and so starting this afternoon, I’m going to start carrying them up on the roof and nailing them down in my spare time. The job already looks bigger and longer than I had imagined when I decided I was going to roof the house by myself.

We have a youth group from Denver (the Southeast church in Aurora) coming to Glenwood tonight for a retreat, and they will be sleeping in the building and using it as a base of operations. It’s been fun to have the different groups come and meet different people. I’m finding that we have quite a “ministry” (of sorts) in providing a stopping off place for the youth and college groups who come to the Colorado mountains for retreats and recreation.

P.S. I just realized, this is post #200 - not much of a milestone for you daily bloggers, but a little bit of one for me (especially since I blogged out for 6 months). Hopefully the next 100 will come easier.

Memoirs?

I often say I’m never surprised but frequently amazed. I’m sure I haven’t seen it all, but every now and then, one comes along that makes me shake my head in wonder. It was on the latest news from Hollywood – Miley Cyrus, all of 15 years old, is writing her memoir. Now, I’m sure she’s led a charmed life and has stories to tell, but a memoir? I even think it’s a little ridiculous to see 40 year olds writing their memoirs. I guess you have to cash in while your name is a hot item – by the time she is 25, no one may remember her or care what she has done in life. (To her credit, she says she is writing it to “let fans in on how important my relationship with my family is to me” and “to motivate mothers and daughters to build lifetimes of memories together and inspire kids around the world to live their dreams.")

It makes me wonder, though – at what point is your story worth telling? Would anything about my life be worth reading, or would it be required reading for I.A. (Insomniacs Anonymous)? I suspect most of us lead pretty routine lives (except for Greg England, of course – but how can you compete with that!), and most of the chapters would have the title “Ditto.” Even though I enjoy my life, I’m pretty sure no one else would think of it as a “can’t put it down” kind of book.

The only thing worth telling is where my story intersects with His story. Only then does my story take on any meaning or have a sense of plot to it. It is then that my story takes on epic proportions. When God’s story is the backdrop to the everyday excursions of a routine life, then you’ve got the makings of a classic.

The Thrill of the Read

I’ve always been a reader. I remember my first trip to the city library on my 7th birthday when I got my very own library card. I checked out the limit of 7 books and by 4:30 I had finished them and begged my dad to take me back before the closing time of 5:00 so I could exchange them for more. And then my first trip up to the second floor where they had big people books, and I discovered the world of biographies and history, and I worked through every book on every shelf, devouring every book and wishing there were more. I remember my parents giving me Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy for Christmas one year, and I had finished it by New Year’s Day.

I love non-fiction and fiction alike. I have all of James Michener’s novels, and John Grisham’s , and Tom Clancy’s, and Frank Herbert’s. When my kids would have to have books for their required reading in school, I would get them when they were finished and I would read them also. Those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile will remember my move last June and the 30 boxes of books from my church office alone. I probably had another 10 boxes of books from my home library.

It’s just how I’m wired. I love to read. More than that, I guess I’m driven to read. I love learning and being introduced to new ideas and new worlds, I love being challenged and having my mind changed by the things I read. I love a book that is so well written I literally can’t put it down, and having to stay up and read until I can’t keep my eyes open any more. I will often read favorite books over again, just for the sheer joy of listening to a story well told. I have a list of books that I would like to read, and as I read blogs and articles and reviews of various things other people are reading, I will add to the list and then pick them off one at a time.

You may be like me, with an insatiable appetite for reading. It may not be your thing at all. I just can’t imagine what it would be like not to experience the thrill of getting a new book in the mail and opening it to those first enticing words, “It was a dark and stormy night….”

Springtime in the Rockies

Out the window of my office at the church building I look across the valley and the Colorado river to the mountains that rise up above me. There is still snow on the highest peaks – some of our church members live up there and still have several feet of snow around their home. But down below, the snow is starting to melt, and slowly but surely spring is coming to the valley. We will still have several freezes and a few inches of snow, but it spring is here. The crocuses have come and gone, the daffodils and tulips are up, and just outside my window the tree is in full bud and leaves are bursting out.

I have enjoyed the winter. It’s been one of the snowiest anyone can remember, and I have loved being back where winter is really winter. I got little tired of shoveling snow (especially the three weeks back in January that I shoveled some new snow every day), but I still got that thrill every time I looked out the window in the morning and saw snow coming down.

But as much as I have enjoyed it, I’m ready for it to move on to spring. I had my regular tires rotated back on my truck, and stored the studded snow tires in my crawl space for a few months. I mowed the lawn for the first time last week and put on fertilizer to entice the grass back to its summer beauty. The temperatures have been getting up into the 70’s and we’ve been sitting out on the porch swing in the evenings watching our neighbors walk their dogs along our semi-country road.

We got our new ATV out for the first trip to Moab this weekend and it was incredible scenery and camping and riding. And we got to be with about 25 of our folks from church, so it was an extra great weekend. Friday afternoon, we had ridden up to Gemini Bridges, which is so far out in the boonies there isn’t cell phone coverage anywhere – but as we were sitting there eating lunch my cell phone rang and it was my daughter Alicia, calling from Germany, no less, to wish me a happy birthday! What a special gift that was.

Thoughts on 50-Eve

Well, here I sit on 50-eve, thinking about the previous 50 years (the first four are still a little fuzzy), and thinking about what the coming year might hold. For some reason, this one has me a little rattled. 30 was nothing, 40 was actually kind of fun, but 50 sounds so... middle-aged. It's not so bad, though. I figure I have another good 40 years before I start getting old. And by then my mind will be gone and it will be someone else's problem. (As one bumper sticker said, "I want to live long enough to be a burden on my kids"!)

I'll have to admit, I've redefined a lot of the standards I once thought made up success. I've long since given up worrying about being on anybody's top-10 list for anything. I'm not nearly as concerned with what other people think about me (or even if they think about me). I have quit thinking I had to have all the answers, or have even come up with all the questions. It's a lot less about me, and a whole lot more about us. I'm more confident that God has a plan, and a lot less worried that he let me in on it. I always thought being married to my wife was great, now I know it is.

I'm glad I am who I am, where I am, with whom I am, and whose I am.