On Good Friday

@mbhohio.org

The sun is shining brightly today.

Warmth is enveloping the air, reminding us that spring is finally here.

The tulips in our front yard have emerged triumphantly from their frozen winter prison and their brilliant yellow color enlivens our home.

There is, at least for me, a sense of hopefulness in the air. That's not been easy for me to recognize, if I'm honest. Look no further than my Twitter feed and you'll know that it's not been a walk in the park to find all things hopeful of late.

Today, though, I woke up with a sense of hope and I've pondered a bit as to the reasons why. My wife, the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML, and I are enjoying this "empty nest" phase of our life. As we reshape ourselves in this new chapter of our lives, it's been a lot of fun to progress together. Our children are in good, good places. The Awesomes have given us two of the greatest grandchildren on the planet and our lives are better for it. CAL is challenging herself in her career and is enjoying her Spring Break on the East Coast right now. The RM is, at heart, still The Boy and we wouldn't have it any other way. So I look around at my life and there is reason to be hopeful, even if our world is beginning to look like it may become the dystopian world we saw in "The Hunger Games" (#thanksforthatFuhrerTrump). Even in the dark, violent world she created, author Suzanne Collins wrote this about hope:

Hope is the only thing stronger than fear.

Hope consoles us. Hope strengthen us. Hope guides us. Hope can be found in the most difficult of circumstances. Difficult circumstances abounded nearly two millennia ago when the Son of God was crucified. Today, Good Friday, is the day that the Christian world remembers that day. It's a day of enormous import in Christendom, as the events of that day initiated a hope of redemption that burns brightly to this day.

I am grateful for this day and for He who, as I believe, died on this day. I am grateful that there is still a measure of good in this world. I am grateful for hope.

On Christmas

Our Tree

As our Christmas Eve celebration drew to a close last night, The RM announced that the Christmas morning festivities would begin promptly at 8:00AM. He was as serious about that statement as I've ever seen him. Since he was a wee one, he has been our primary Elf on Christmas day and apparently after two years of missing out on his duties, he was prepared to take them most seriously.

Sufficiently warned, we took to our beds, thinking we'd close our eyes for just a moment in order to do the things Santa proxies do. We were wrong, as that moment turned into a full night's sleep. I awoke and did my Sunday morning thing, including two crosswords, a shave and a shower, when it dawned on me that A) we'd not done our duty as Santa proxies and the tree was looking pretty barren and 2) it was uncomfortably close to 8:00AM. I roused the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML from her slumber and we quickly got things taken care of before The RM woke up.

He woke up shortly before the appointed hour and he was immediately agitated concerned that not every one was manning their battle stations, as it were. We woke CAL and we proceeded downstairs to first see what had made its way into our stockings (Poo Pouri was a big hit with one of us! Guess who?). Then our six year old, I mean twenty one year old, insisted we get to the main event - the opening of the presents. Although he ceded the "Elf" role (gift distributor) to me because I was closest to the tree, he directed it (my pacing was no good so I think I will not be reprising my role). Even as a young adult, his reactions were classic. For CAL, most of her gifts were shipped to her place behind the Zion Curtain - lots of things to stock your new adult world. For the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and I, the joy of Christmas came in having two-thirds of our children with us. It has been simply wonderful. Simply wonderful.

As we gathered at Church later in the day for a brief service, I ruminated over the the third verse of the carol, "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day,"

And in despair I bowed my head:

"There is no peace on earth," I said

"For hate is strong and mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good will to men."

and I was saddened that there is little peace in our world and hate is strong and sadly is only going to get stronger under the hate-based regime of the newly elected Fuhrer President of the United States, but I did see hope today. I saw it in my children, sat beside my wife and I as we worshipped. I saw it in the joy we felt as we opened our presents this morning. I saw it earlier this week as we relished being surrounded by dear friends during an all too quick visit to Chicago. Also earlier this week, I saw so much good as people from near and far rallied to help another dear friend find her missing father (delighted to report that it turned out beautifully).

So, yes, there is good in this world and there is yet reason to hope. Merry Christmas, my friends.

We missed these guys, but they're having a sweet Christmas
celebration behind the Zion Curtain

It's tough out here

Post-haircut shot. Mission life
is glamorous.

From time to time, the letters from TMFKATB have brought me to tears. Usually it's happened when he's shared an experience that was very similar to something I encountered when I served thirty-plus years ago. I could easily identify with his emotions and so mine were brought close to the surface. Today's letter brought me to tears smack in the middle of the ShopRite. Trust me when I tell you the only time it is justified to cry in that place is when you recognize just how much more we pay for food stuffs here in the 'Stan. It would drive the hardest of souls to tears.  But it wasn't the ridiculous prices that broke me down today, it truly was one of the best letters we've gotten in his nearly two years of service.

The bulk of his letter related the story of the miraculous events that led to the baptism of a Venezuelan family of five. His joy in their happiness and his recognition that he has been but an instrument in God's hands is what sent me into a spasm of tears. He has grown so much during these past two years. It's been amazing to watch.

It was a joyous letter but also indicative of that growth I mentioned. At the end of an exchange with me, he wrote:

A recent convert here that I was really close to got arrested and is getting deported this week. He called from jail and asked us to pray for him. His wife is a mess. It was weird for us twenty year olds to comfort them. It's tough out here. Even in America, people suffer.

He's right. It is tough out here and people do suffer here. Yet people continue to come here because as bad as it may be for them, it is far better than what they face in their home countries. The family that TMFKATB and his companion found so much joy in fled Venezuela just a few weeks ago because there is opportunity here.

It may be tough here, but there is hope here. There is opportunity here. There are people that care here. Sometimes they are twenty year olds who may not know exactly what to say but they find a way to bring comfort. There are lots of good people in this country of all stripes who are looking to make it a little less tough. And that is a good thing.

On Baseball

Wrigley Field...hallowed ground

As a child, I wasn't much of an athlete. Let's be honest, I've never been much of an athlete in the true sense of the word at any point in my life. I'm fine with that. Athletics just didn't come naturally to me, except water skiing, which I was pretty adept at, but that's hardly a team sport. The only sport, team or otherwise, that I really tried as a kid was baseball.

Ah...baseball. I can still remember my three seasons of Little League spent in the furthest reaches of right field. My playing position should tell you something about my skill level. I remember the excitement / fear of stepping into the batter's box. The anticipation of that moment could be overwhelming. My memories of hearing the crack of my bat as it connected with the ball are a bit fuzzy. That is not because of my solid middle age, but the reality that my bat connecting with a pitch was a rarity. It was clear I was never going to the big leagues and I'm not talking about the MLB. I wasn't going anywhere beyond Little League.

My lack of baseball aptitude never quelled my love of the game. Am I a numbers-mad fan? Can I quote a player's stats, chapter and verse? No and no. Does that diminish my love of the game? Absolutely not. It's a game I get. It's a game I really like watching, whether it be at a minor league field, a Spring Training Mecca, a big league stadium, or on my TV, I'm happy to take in a game.

That said, there is something wonderful about taking in a game live. Over the years, I've been fortunate enough to see games in several pro stadiums across the country. I've been in the cheap seats (you haven't lived until you've watched the Cubs play from the general admission seats above the ivy at Wrigley) and in more than a few suites (the sushi at Yankees Stadium absolutely does not suck). Regardless of the seat, there is something uniquely American about a baseball game. Around the world, we Americans are known for our arguable inflated sense of exceptionalism and that sense translates to hope in the baseball field. There's always hope there. Even when your team has yet another terrible season, you go away saying, "There's always next season." Believe me, as someone who proudly adopted Chicago as his hometown and hence the Cubs as his team, I know of where I speak when it comes to hope for the next season.

I've really liked that as a family, we've shared this love of baseball. Seeing my kids hanging out with Manny Mota on the field at Dodgers Stadium was a highlight. Watching my daughters ask Ron Cey for his autograph when they had no idea who he was was a lot of fun. Taking in a Texas Rangers game in Arlington last year with CAL was a memory I'll forever cherish.

Opening Day was just three days ago. Baseball is back. Some people complain it's a boring game. I'm not one of them. Baseball, to me, is good memories. It is fun. It is family. It is hope. Yeah, I'm a fan.