Oh, this can't be true...

But even if it is not, it's funny.

A monkey has learned to control a remote arm to fling its own poo at researchers. From the article: "Researchers at Duke University have taught a lab monkey to control the movement of a robotic arm, using only signals from its brain. The monkey's immediate utilization of this new skill was to shower a group of neurobiologists with feces, according to the report by lead researcher Miguel Nicolelis."

Oh please, oh please, oh please be true!

Bike to Nelsonville... check

There is an end to that bike path.

Never Picture Perfect

The other day I went to the hospital to visit someone. I guess some people think that all pastors DO are hospital calls, but I really don't do them that often. But I really like this lady and I sense she is really scared... so I drove to Columbus. I had to drop off my daughter at the grandparents... so it was 4 hours on the road for a 20 minute hospital visit. But it was well worth it.

It was worth it for her because I was there. And to her and her generation, I represent God. I used to fight that with every part of my being. "We are all priests! I'm not special as the pastor," I would demand. And that is true.

But then last year I spent a couple of days with one of my mentors, Rob Bell. And at the end of our time together, he knelt down and served me communion. And yes, I know Rob is just a guy, but I was in the presence of not just Rob, but the God he and I both serve and love. It was a holy moment for me because it was Rob. (I hope that makes sense.)

All of this is to say that our hospital visit was a holy moment for both me and this woman. Holy for her, because her pastor cared for her. Holy for me, because I was in the presence of brokenness, pain... and faith. Hospitals are a humbling place.

On the ride to and from the hospital, I put in a Rich Mullens CD, "Never Picture Perfect." I haven't listened to it in years... but it was a very moving experience for me. I think Rich is an amazing song writer... his words touch me -- even if his songs are now a bit outdated. But they touch me, partially, because I came across them in a very formative time in my Christian journey.

The title song is about his family. And although Rich is from farm stock, and I'm from the "rust belt," it has never been too difficult to put myself into that song. Really, it is a song I would sing about my family.

"My folks they were always the first family to arrive
With seven people jammed into a car that seated five
There was one bathroom to bathe and shave in
Six of us stood in line
And hot water for only three
But we all did just fine

Talk about your miracles
Talk about your faith
My dad he could make things grow
Out of Indiana clay
Mom could make a gourmet meal
Out of just cornbread and beans
And they worked to give faith hands and feet
And somehow gave it wings...

The song closes with this bridge...

And now they've raised five children
One winter they lost a son
But the pain didn't leave them crippled
And the scars have made them strong
Never picture perfect
Just a plain man and his wife
Who somehow knew the value
Of hard work, good love, and real life

I just love the way Rich speaks of his family... and as I said, it is the way I see my family. I came from pretty humble stock. When I was really young, my dad worked 3 jobs to put food on the table. I never thought of myself as poor, but I guess we were. Well, financially poor, relationally rich.

My parents are just ordinary people... but in my eyes they will always be bigger than life. My dad is my hero. He was the best man at my wedding and is one of the most generous men I have ever known. He as taught me a lot about God just by being so faithful to my mom and my family. My mom is my role model for the perfect women (my wife is very much like her). She is one of the most brilliant people I have ever known. She was an amazing mom, and quite the success in the working world as well.

All of this is to say that, if you didn't know this about me, you need to know that I'm incredibly close to my parents.

I just got off the phone with my dad. And I sense that he is quickly on the downward track in terms of his health. He has been struggling with his health for years, but I sense that this life is drawing to a close. Wow, it took me a long time to write that last sentence. In fact, I sense these are a lot of "last moments" for us. I savor the time with him... when we last saw him he was reading to my daughter and I took a lot of video tape of it... thinking... that may be the last time.

Life really isn't picture perfect. Life is really, really hard. And really, really sad. And people we love, die. And it's messy. And as I type these words I am failing miserably at holding back tears. And my wife is sleeping on our couch and I look at her and she is more beautiful than the day I first met her. But we will pass away. Even this good thing will end.

And my days of biking to work are numbered. Someday I physically won't be able to do it. And the joys of this life, things I often take for granted: a good meal with friends, reading to my daughter, sex with my wife, walks with my mom, waking on a Sunday morning and being able to stand and worship God with these amazing people I know and love... all those things will pass away... at least in the form I currently understand them. "Everything that can be shaken is shaken and all that remains is all I ever really had."

And I guess I really don't like this.

And I guess I have a lot of questions about it.

But I know this: this life is not the end of the story. And I can't tell you how much I cling onto that hope. I know, in the core of my being, that although I die, I will live. I have this profound hope that no matter what pain this life brings (and I expect a lot of it), there will be that day when there will be "no more mourning, crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."

Biking for a purpose

By the way, I made a decision the other night. For the first time in my life, I want to physically train for something. I have decided that, next summer, Laura and I are going on a bike tour. Most likely of Maine. It's one of those things were you ride 20 miles or so a day... and then visit towns, etc. A friend of mine is doing this in a couple of weeks and when he told me my eyes lit up and I decided.... "I want to do that."

So I'm biking with a purpose.

Now I need to learn basic bike maintenance.

If this doesn't do it...

Man, if this doesn't make you go organic, nothing will.

First Street Hill... check [revised]

Today I went for a bike ride just to ride. I took Lemaster down to the bike path and then around to the Eclipse town. The significant thing is that I make it up first street hill...

Let me add that first street hill isn't a major deal for real bikers... but for me, it was my first milestone. I'm biking to Nelsonville tomorrow.

Magic by computer

Try it.

U2

I'm a pretty big U2 fan, but I don't listen to a lot of music. Just recently, I started listening to them again and was reminded what an incredible band they are...

Anyone looks better singing their songs.

I guess imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Chatting away...

I've been sick since Tuesday... nothing serious, just a dull ache in my stomach and nausea. Nowhere near as bad as some friends of mine, but still annoying. Fortunately, nothing pressing is on my plate, so I have been kind of a slacker this week.

Sickness lead to boredom, which this week, lead to chat.

I got on chat for the first time in over 8 years (when chat first started). My how it has changed. First, there are a lot of hormones out there. The room names are the first hint: "married and lonely," "30 and Flirty," etc. It's actually pretty sad. The "funny" thing is that the rooms have a description... and it usually is something like, "Come on in, the beer is cold and the food is plentiful..." as if it was an actual room... a real party (as opposed to a bunch of 14 year old boys trying to talk dirty to girls.)

So I picked my name..."Paul" (I'm not very creative) and signed on.

"Fresh meat!" the room cries. Suddenly a bunch of people are PMing me, "a/s/l" (age, sex, location).

First, why would I start a conversation with someone demanding my age, sex and location? It really is none of their business. It just seems rude; abrupt. So I just didn't respond. I watched the room and found a couple of people who seemed, "normal." (Meaning every word wasn't a sexual innuendo and their name wasn't something like, "Born_to_bone."*

Finally, I met a couple of people who were okay with just talking: Rob and Dixie. Rob and I talked about Grisham novels, Drum Corps and our families. Dixie and I talked about our families --we both are the same age, happily married, have one daughter (22 months old), and both waited late in life to start having kids. We actually spent some time talking about why the heck we were chatting at midnight (I had slept during the day and was not tired- it was only 11 for her... she was out West).

And we talked about God (I was inspired by "The Big Kahuna"). We talked about pain, and fear, and raising a child, and being a good spouse. And does God care about those things? ("Yes, I tell her.") She went to church as a child but does not remember anything about God or Jesus or the bible. She really doesn't think of spiritual things. She just goes on with her life.

But for someone who doesn't think of spiritual things, she sure did ask a lot of questions...

At then end of my chat with Dixie, she said how refreshing it was to talk with me. She said she hadn't talked with someone like this in a long time. She said she felt, "more alive" after talking with me.

That made me really sad.

Because, in fact, it was just another conversation for me. I have conversations like this pretty much every day of my life.

But maybe most people don't. Maybe most people are so far removed from people who talk about anything deeper than their work and the weather (or cyber sex)...

I think we all long for deeper things. I have always held a deep conviction that most people want to talk about the deep things of life. And the longer I live, the more that is lived out in my experience. I have found that people love to talk about God... and struggle... and relationships...and pain. And they love to be prayed for... even if it is over chat.

I challenge my readers to go beneath the surface. Not just with strangers, but with your friends. Find out how they are really doing. What they are struggling with. How it is with their family?

How is it with their soul...

It's too bad we spend so much time talking about industrial lubricant.





*I was inspired to get on chat because of a Dave Barry column. That was the name of one of his characters.

So maybe I need more practice...

Read previous post...

My front yard is very irregularly shaped. In fact, it is really hard to cut. And it never looks nice and neat like our neighbor's yard.

My wife and I just went to lunch. As we were getting in the car, I proudly pointed out that I just mowed our lawn...

She teasingly poked, "Yea, it looks like it was mowed by vandals."

I married her for those moments.

Cutting grass

So I just got done cutting my grass. Yes, I know it's Monday at noon and probably all of my readers are hard at work at your job (or two, or three) but, where there are several disadvantages of being a pastor, one advantage is that sometimes I can cut my grass on a Monday at noon if I so choose.

Okay, so I cut my grass on Monday because I work most weekends. Maybe it's not too much of an advantage.

But anyway, so what is it with people who cut their grass so much? I have neighbors, who, mind you, are really nice people, but you would think their butts/hands must be artificially grafted to their mowers. They cut their grass two times a week! Their lawns look like golf courses!

I like my house to look nice, but come on...

You have got to be kidding.

Don't just read the article, you have to watch the video. Who needs a dating service when you have 911?

Biking update

So in response to Jen... :O)

I have really enjoyed biking to work. So far, I have only a week under my belt (5 trips) I just hit the 60+ mile mark. Hardly a huge record compared to Jen, but hey, seeing it is almost as far as I have biked in the previous 3 years, not bad.

There are some changes I must make (keep a stock of clothes at the office and maybe buy a larger bag to carry my stuff, buy a windbreaker and learn how to do simple maintenance), but so far, I have to confess, I really like it.

I like that I get some exercise, that I run with rabbits and squirrels every morning, that I have seen 7 deer so far, that I'm not driving a car (and using gas), and honestly, it gives me a strange feeling of accomplishment. There is a certain competitive streak in me that makes me want to beat my time and have a higher average speed... but sometimes I just like to cruise.

And Jen was right... it appears my hand problem was nothing more than muscles that had not been used much... it it much better.

Thanks again to all who encouraged my latest goal.

I just realized...

I just realized that three posts I have made to this blog in the past several weeks have not actually been posted. And they are gone.

I was wondering why no one was responding!

Only a little sweat

So I picked up my bike from its first tune up... got on it for the first time in 2 years... and biked to work today. Honestly, it was not bad, and no where near as far as I thought it would be. I think it's about 6 miles... it took around 25 minutes.

Going to work was not a big deal, going home will be more of a big deal, as there is one hill (Hemlock) which looks like... well... it could kill me. (Get it? Hemlock? Kill me? HA!)

There is no reason I can't do this regularly. I need to do some adjustments as my hands are shaking from the pressure... I know that is not good. But soon I suspect will be looking for a longer route.

They always say that to lose weight or get healthy, you need to find exercise that you can work into your life, that you enjoy and that renews you. I have to say, that was pretty fun.

Thanks Jen.