2025-09-16T10:55:28+00:00

A Dallas Cowboys Win

September 16, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The Dallas Cowboys are the official NFL team of the Bridge Faith Community, I’ve decided, and yesterday they barely eked out an overtime win over the hated rival New York Giants. To be honest with you, it was pretty disappointing, and as I am examining why that is, I am finding that it speaks to a reality that is far mare important than some dumb game in Texas.

Every year, I think the Cowboys will win the Super Bowl, and every year since 1995, I am wrong. This no longer ruins my year, season, month or even day, like it did when I was a teenager. They are just my favorite team. I am not a player, I have no stake in the team whatsoever. Yet, I would say I love them. [Obviously, not in the way I love my wife or any other person I actually know. I’m not an insane teenager anymore.] This is, I recognize, a ridiculous reality, but it is a reality nonetheless.

Now, let me tell you about a family beach vacation, about 10-15 years ago. One evening, we were on the boardwalk and my sister and I began to argue – I don’t remember what it was about, more than that I wanted her to say and/or do something, and she wasn’t saying or doing that thing, that way. She wanted the same from me. We had pictures in our heads of how the evening should go, and when they didn’t, we were frustrated and angry.

(If you have a sibling, you know the kind of ‘frustrated and angry’ I’m talking about. There is a certain safety in screaming out of frustrating and anger at someone you’ve lived with since you were born.)

Why were we arguing on a beautiful night on a boardwalk in Ocean City? For the same reason I was (am) disappointed in a nice win. It’s also the same reason the Angel and I usually have conflict, in our relationship. When I’m shockingly mean to me, in my head, it’s for this reason, too. And it’s also why I don’t buy, or listen to, the new Counting Crows albums. While we’re on the subject, it’s probably why we all hate each other on social media.

My sister and I fought because we had an expectation for the evening, we expected something from the other. I expect the Dallas Cowboys to win every game, comfortably. When I listen to new Counting Crows records, I still have August & Everything After in my head, and this new one is never that! I walk into these conversations with my wife with expectations that she will see it my way, or respond to me in a particular way.

Expectations are about what they should do, what they are supposed to say, how this should go, who should win, how you are supposed to see the world, and on and on. And when they don’t, when it doesn’t, I am disappointed and petty. I lash out, or pout (in other words, I say mean things or nothing at all.)

That night on the boardwalk opened my eyes to a new question, instead of why she didn’t participate in my mental construct for a perfect evening. Who in the world was I to decide how she should be, what she should say???? What gave me the right to be the all-knowing arbiter of what is supposed to be?

And when I finally asked that question, and searched my super ugly parts for the truth, it’s easy to see that I gave me that right. It’s simple arrogance, the same idolatry that is so commonplace all over the Bible and still is, today, in every corner of all creation. I didn’t like that answer, but what I like or don’t like doesn’t really matter when we’re talking about the truth.

What if I could have allowed my sister to be and do only what she wants to be and do? What if I didn’t have to control every aspect of all people and circumstances? I’ll tell you what happens – I am free to enjoy the time. I am surprised by the kindness, care and thoughtfulness of people, and the stunning beauty of my life, when it can unfold naturally, without my need to write everyone’s story by the blinding light of my own altar. Most importantly, without expectation, I am free to be grateful.

I can’t always do it (like yesterday’s NFL game, for example), maybe I never will be perfect, but I’ll sure keep trying. It’s totally worth it. Those Counting Crows albums probably aren’t so bad, after all.

Home at College

September 1, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I’m not watching much tv, outside of Fisk, repeating the 3 seasons. And when I get through them for the second time, I’ll start on the 3rd. I’m listening to Kitty Flanagan’s book 488 Rules For Life, and probably, when it’s over, I’ll just restart that, too. (Maybe not, there is another book to dig into. But as good as this one about the Rules is, maybe I won’t.)

My youngest son is now entering his 2nd week in college. My college experience was really, really awful. It’s no exaggeration to say I hated almost every day, with 2 big exceptions.

The first is that I played baseball, and I loved playing baseball, at a every level. Incidentally, I had a dream that lasted 22 years to play professionally, and I worked and worked, went to all of the all-star games, attended several open tryouts. But alas, I was not good enough. There is no shame in this, and I feel no shame at all telling you. I gave all I had to my dream (at the time, it was the only thing I could have said that about), and have zero regrets. I heard someone say, no matter what level you stop playing, you only stop playing because you’re not good enough for the next level, and that is almost never not true (no matter what the dads in the stands at high school football games say.) I was a college baseball player, and loved it 3,000.

The other exception was, obviously, the Angel. I met her in my junior year (which was not my 3rd year – I was on the extended plan;), and began dating her in my last semester. (It was a very good thing I was on that extended plan, I would have been long gone by that last semester if I was more focused and motivated.) She’s better than baseball, and I love her way more than 3,000.

Anyway, my boy sent me a video of a classmate playing his guitar and singing along with a girl who may or may not be a romantic interest. The song was “Home,” by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros – you know it, here’s the first verse and chorus:

Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my ma and pa, not the way that I do love you… Well, holy moly, me oh my, you’re the apple of my eye, Girl, I never loved one like you… Man oh man, you’re my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness, there ain’t nothing that I need… Well, hot and heavy pumpkin pie, cotton candy, Jesus Christ, there ain’t nothing please me more than you … Oh, home, let me come home, home is wherever I’m with you. Oh, home, let me come home, home is wherever I’m with you.

You know it, right? You love it, too. I know you do, because everybody does. The only people that don’t are those who are trying to have a too cool, imagined elitist, take – those people you don’t want to hang out with anyway. They are not your friends.

This college guitarist was surprisingly good, and the 2 of them sang together, and that was also surprisingly good. I watched the video several times, and since I’m a sucker for this type of beauty, I do hope she’s a romantic interest for my boy. But here’s the thing that’s more important, that I texted him his morning: this is what I want college to be, for him. A space with the free exchange of stories, ideas,

(I’ll continue in a second, but it seems important to tell you that, right now, outside my front door, the Angel has returned from her walk and is singing out loud while she stretches. I have the best life and it is rare that I forget that simple fact. I’m going to kiss her in a second.)

…free exchange of stories, ideas, talents, and hearts. This is also what I think the Church is, lots and lots of people being exactly who they are, and that who they are is accepted, appreciated, embraced, and loved by the others who are also being exactly who they are. These are places where we are invited to share ourselves, with vulnerability and complete authenticity.

He responded, “I really love it here.” Of course, you do, buddy. We all do, it’s home.

Wedding Clothes

August 11, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I sometimes get the privilege of officiating weddings, of getting to say “Do you,” and “kiss your Bride,” and filling out legal paperwork that ties people together forever. I fully recognize the statistics that say we have about the same chance of forever as a quarter has of landing on heads, I just don’t care. I don’t have to acknowledge it, I can believe it’s forever.

This couple had been together since the 8th grade, through braces, high school graduations, college in different cities, injuries, long distances, COVID, and Trump, twice! Their book had the sweetest pictures you’ve ever seen of every awkward, beautiful step.

Their guests filed in, early and immaculate.

I mention it, because this is not as usual as you’d like to think. Some are late (some significantly so), some come in jean shorts & cut off t-shirts, and some take the opportunity of someone else’s wedding to make a mess. I had one Bride’s mother show up late for an outdoor wedding in a park, and drive by slowly, uncomfortably close to the people, and through, never bothering to stop and attend. This isn’t only guests. Once, a Groom wore a tank top and gym shorts to his own wedding to a woman in a perfect white dress.

I would tell you I mind, and I probably do. But that tank top wedding was awesome, some underdressed guests were wonderful surprises to the couple, and really, who cares how you are there, as long as you are there, right? I don’t necessarily like our casual culture, where every time & place is the same as any other. We “come as we are” everywhere we are. Of course, I’d like some separation. I’d like to set apart some moments. A wedding simply isn’t a ballgame. I’d like to bring back church clothes. But I’m the pastor and I wear shorts and untucked shirts all summer long, so there’s that.

We can agree that some things are just more important, like heart postures. Clothes aren’t everything, are they? Nope. But they can certainly tell a story, (not the whole story, obviously), and give a window to the posture of the heart. They can speak volumes. The look of the guests at this wedding sure did.

I imagine that the women bought new dresses and shoes (who cares where they bought them or how much they spent???) for this day, they started doing their hair and makeup in the morning. The men bought new ties, shaved, and wore fancy socks and pants that fit. They reflected on this couple, who they desperately love, as they did it all, and respected them, the day, the amount of money and time that was invested in the ceremony, and the grace of the God who made all of this possible. That’s what I imagine, and you can’t convince me otherwise. They came and gave their very best to this moment…because this moment deserved it.

Now. That sort of implies that some moments don’t, and I don’t believe that, either. Maybe that’s the justification behind our super-casual, dressing down. And maybe that’s where I can argue. Maybe instead of bringing everything down to the level of picnics and McDonalds, maybe we can acknowledge the significance of every second, every place, every person. Maybe McDonald’s shouldn’t be eaten in the car and maybe we shouldn’t show up late to anything. Maybe we could eat on the fine china for sandwiches with our spouses? Maybe we should raise the consciousness and treat everything like the blessing it is? Maybe we can just start with this moment and go from there?

Hulk Hogan Instead Of Terry Bollea

July 29, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Theo Huxtable, Hulk Hogan, and Ozzy Osbourne died in the last several days, and so did big parts of my childhood.

I loved the Cosby Show. I probably would now, too, if Bill Cosby, paragon of (what turned out to be) hypocritical virtue, wasn’t so problematic. Malcolm Jamal Warner was the best in a perfect cast of bests. I haven’t thought of him in years, but I still might miss him. I wish his family peace. But I think I miss the show, and my pretend idea of what the show was, what the show represented, even more.

I didn’t much care for Ozzy’s music. Maybe that’s a terrible thing to say, maybe I should think Black Sabbath “changed my life,” like I’m supposed to think about wildly overrated Radiohead. Whatever. Who has time for what we “should like?” “Barbie Girl” sounds & feels better than anything Radiohead created after The Bends.

However, Ozzy is a very important footnote in my life. In my middle school hell years, I thought about suicide often, and wrote about it in some awfully dark poetry. My mom found these poems, and, appropriately frightened, confiscated my cassette tapes. She had, apparently, bought into the common belief of the moment that heavy metal bands were killing our children. I raged against her for taking my Ratt, Quiet Riot, and Ozzy tapes. She was THE WORST. She said she threw them in the garbage, and was willing to suffer my wrath forever. But my thoughts about suicide faded into a depressed rhythm, never too real after 8th grade. I discovered that it wasn’t always going to be that/this dark. As it turns out, she didn’t throw them away, and I got them back eventually. I was happy to listen to Ratt and QR again, but not really Ozzy. I don’t think he caused my depression, it was just probably timing. However, what my mom did remains one of the very finest things anyone has ever done for me. It means something very significant that you would be loved enough that someone will go to any lengths to hear/listen/help you, even to risk your hatred of them. She put my life before her comfort, our relationship, or anything else. She gets an A+ for that. And every time I think of Ozzy, I feel really, really important and loved.

Now. Hulk Hogan. I don’t know how to express to you just how much of my attention and life went to professional wrestling, and Hulk Hogan. And to tell you the truth, for some reason, I don’t want to try.

What I notice right now is that I refer to these 3 by their character names, Hulk Hogan instead of Terry Bollea. That’s telling. They weren’t people, they were someone’s invention, and they are that to me. I don’t know Malcolm Jamal Warner, I only know Theo Huxtable. I know how these fictional characters made me feel, or what they represent. And what they represent is other places and people, real places and people. My mom, sister, girlfriends, and my best friend. The ones who loved me, who I loved, who cared for me, the ones with whom I shared the most valuable moments of my life. I guess that’s why I love art – and artists – so much, for their ability to reach into our real lives through connected imaginations and find commonalities, emotions, events, giving hope that where we are is awesome, but where we’re going can be even better. They asked us to believe in them, in each other, and ourselves.

And I still believe.

Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginning’s End

June 19, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I’ve coached my last game, spent my last day in the high school weight room. My youngest son has graduated, and will be leaving for college in August. My oldest son has a great job. Better yet, they are 2 of the best human beings I’ve ever met. The Angel is The Angel (and yes, it’s still very obvious I’ve married well out of my league, but that’s her problem, not mine – I say that a lot, and I really, really like to say it). The church is on solid footing, or at least as solid of footing as a ministry can be. God can call any of us in a different direction at any time. It’s best not to be too comfortable with these sorts of things. I could lose some weight, but probably many of us could/would say that. Maybe I will. Maybe not.

But the question that keeps rearing it’s bright-eyed, exciting, excited head is one I love: Now what?

I referred, in my last post, to a hope for the time & space on vacation to bring some clarity, some light in a dark hallway for the next steps. It didn’t, exactly, which is both disappointing and awesome.

So, here’s what I’m thinking…

I am a rescued, redeemed child of God, husband, dad, brother, friend, pastor, possibly exceptional dancer, lover of everything, including this life I have been given, you and pop songs. My ministry is to love, and to tell everybody how much they are loved, what the Gospel is, and why that matters so much. That is who I am.

Now, what will I do, in service of that ministry/life?

I am always working on the sermons for Sunday mornings, and will continue my commitment to this call to pastor our beautiful community – an increased imagination will probably lead to more Saturday evening events, and different risks, at the Bridge. There will be a focus on a marriage curriculum. I do some marriage counseling (pre- and post- marital) and will make myself available for more and more of that, in pointed, individual & group, class-ish contexts. There is a new book in the works, which will be called, We Have a Weight Problem, which is not actually about body weight. (Well, it’s a little bit about body weight. It’s more about the value we give to things in our lives and how we’d go about changing those lives.) It’s a good title, right?

I post in 2 places every week (the Bridge Faith Community, and Love With A Capital L), and may increase that frequency. I should probably do some interesting things to get those posts in front of more eyes.

[I often treat my work as if it is a secret. I guess it’s residual ash from from setting fire to my imposter syndrome. As if I think you might not want to see or read it, and if you did, you might not like it. That’s silly. Of course it’s true!! You might not like it, but that’s ok. I don’t like all Morrissey songs, and I’m not the greatest singer of all time. I’m not for everyone, you might actually hate my work, but you might not, too. In fact, it might be cool, it might give you a new perspective, you might think it’s awesome. I’m going to stop treating these things as if they’re a fancy club, where you have to know the password to get in. I’m going to invite you to the Bridge.]

There’s a new series that will show up somewhere called “What I’ve Learned,” I just don’t know where. Maybe here. I might begin a podcast-type thing, like the old Facebook minis (10 minute shorts), but with other people and their ideas and viewpoints. I’ll follow up on the Bull Elephants (if you know what that means, you know, if not, I’ll explain it another time). I’ll make a new Instagram Bridge page, where I’ll invite you to the Bridge, and keep you posted on any-/everything else. I’ll be at our mid-week prayer group, and increase the opportunities for connection with the people I know, and the people I meet. These connections will be to counsel or coach, to provide space to ask questions and discover the answers, to study the Bible, to discern spiritual gifts, or to build & strengthen the bonds of friendship.

I don’t think the Church is a place people come to, I think the Church is a group of people that go from a certain geographical, local home. Our ministries are in places you are, at town squares, malls, grocery stores and fields. We cannot just walk around trying to build attendance in our local churches, as altars to ourselves. Instead, we’re called to GO. Much of the next steps, as far as I can see today, are loosely tied to where I/we already are (but maybe that’s bound to be the case) .

I am not discouraged at this. (I once would have been, and would have thrown this all away immediately.) What this means now is that I show up and am faithful with what is here in my ever-growing circles. Maybe there will be time for all of this, maybe just for one or 2. All I can be is fully present in where I am, what I am doing. But I am also paying attention to all the burning bushes, looking for the ones that aren’t consumed, because it’s often there that God gives our specific GO.

So, what now? Well, I’ll love who & what is in my path – Jesus, you, me, everybody, this lovely creation – in the ways I can, and if (and when) my path changes, or expands, I’ll love there, too. And i’ll be really, really grateful for all of it.

expectations

June 19, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

We have a summer family vacation every year. I’m always thrilled with it, as it is a time to (mostly) disconnect from devices and the strength taskmaster of the planet Busy, and connect with each other. Last year, it was also a time of pretty significant transformation for me – as I was in the ocean, a big beautiful Truth swam right up to me and punched me in the face. It’s not much of an overreach to say it changed me forever. I expected it again this year.

We usually stay in a hotel, but this year I chose to book with an Airbnb. Instead of 2 beds in 1 room, we would have different rooms, a kitchen and a living room. There would be privacy, time and space. I know there are many kinds of Airbnb’s, from mansions to single rooms in apartments. I am also sure that the one I chose was properly described. I just had a different picture in my head that I was expecting.

The Angel had wrapped up the school year 2 days before we left. Often, we go a few weeks after the end, after she has a solid start on her summer school responsibilities. This year, we left immediately, to allow her to breathe and decompress on the sand, before those responsibilities began. I expected her to easily transition from the extra-stressful end-of-year to the peaceful vacation state of rest.

Our summer vacation was outstanding, but…

Counting Crows released August & Everything After on September 14, 1993, and it remains a perfect album. When their next album, Recovering The Satellites, came out, we all expected another A+ album, and it was fine. But it was not our expectations and paled in comparison to the album in our heads.

The Goo Goo Dolls have never released an A+ album, they’re all pretty much in the B+ to C range. Some songs (like “We Are The Normal”) are really great, and some are absolutely unlistenable. This is what we expect from the Goo Goo Dolls, and they rarely disappoint. We don’t expect anything different, anything more. If Counting Crows would release a Goo Goo Dolls album, with great songs sitting neatly next to trash, it would be widely considered THE WORST ALBUM OF ALL TIME. But in our minds, it’s just a solid Goo Goo Dolls album.

Our opinion has very little to do with the actual album, it’s our interpretation of it, seen through the paradigm of our expectations.

Nothing life changing happened, the Airbnb was a 2 room ‘motel,’ with virtually no privacy or quiet space. The Angel needs the days to decompress to regain some semblance of control before we go. All of my expectations were wrong. I expected myself to be slow, easy, and fully present. I was mistaken about that, too. Expectations make presence nearly impossible, because we’re focused on how it is supposed to be.

In hindsight, our vacation was wonderful. I just wish I had taken some more time to enjoy it, free of the weight of should’s & supposed to’s. As a matter of fact, I want to take that last sentence into my life, to smash all expectations I have for things and people and myself, and just enjoy them as the beautiful gifts they/we are. I’m finding that gratitude and expectation are probably mutually exclusive.

But, now that I think about it, maybe that is the Truth of this trip. Maybe it was more transformative than I guessed. Maybe the laughter of the board games, the softness of the Angel’s tanned skin and lovely smile, and the time just eating, walking, swimming, and putting on suntan lotion, together, was the best gift of all. I wonder if this mindful look back is exactly what I needed to see it for what it was…

Maybe it was actually better than I expected.

Anniversary

May 27, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

[The Angel & I have 2 sons, and the youngest one graduates from high school Friday. I’ll write about that next week, when it has passed and I have some sort of handle on my overflowing emotions. I also can’t seem to shake the notion that the 2nd season of Andor will help me with that handle. Who knows?]

I just told you that the Angel & I have 2 sons – you might be interested to know that, today, we will have been married for 24 years. This is the year that she will have been married to me for more years of her life than she has not. (I’m not there quite yet.) That feels like a monumental milestone. I guess it’s not, but it sure does feel like it.

So, I’ll tell you what we did to celebrate this anniversary. We went out to lunch/dinner yesterday and then went shopping for a Graduation Dress. When we go clothes shopping for her, she allows me to choose up to 5 items that she will try on along with the ones she chooses. There’s almost zero chance she’ll want any of my 5, but that’s not the point at all. If you’ve ever seen her, you know she’s an absolutely fox. She has a perfect figure, like a little guitar, and I love to see her in interesting styles and fabrics. Yesterday, she graciously waived the 5 maximum rule, and I filled our cart.

As I was standing outside the fitting room, I started thinking about being married to her for so long. She is way out of my league, far better than I could have ever dreamed of, yet here we are. I don’t know how this happened, and like to say, “but that’s her problem,” as if it’s hilarious, which it is. But it’s also true.

When I was young, we’d go to Hersheypark and I loved it like crazy. But I’d, almost immediately, start thinking how I didn’t want to leave, didn’t want the day to be over.. Or Christmas morning, the melancholy of the end being over would set in while we were still opening presents. Sometimes, it’s hard to be present for the most wonderful moments, because we’re waiting for the end. The first time I saw Morrissey in concert, as I sang along, I cried because I wanted it to last forever. How many of the best moments of my life, how many of the greatest gifts, did I miss simply because I was elsewhere in my mind?

Probably very early in our relationship, I expected her to wake up and move on, but I said a cool thing to her that changed both of our lives. (I don’t know if she knows how much it changed mine.) Usually, you think of the perfect thing to say as you walk away, right? Once in my life, it came at exactly the right time. She was very hesitant to step into our relationship with both feet – for lots of reasons – and I said, “what makes you think I’ll wait,” (honestly, it doesn’t sound that awesome now, it kind of sounds arrogant and posturing, maybe you had to be there, maybe you had to be us) and then something like, we can spend our lives waiting for something that is right here, right now, and end up thinking about how we missed it. I was not telling the truth, I would have waited for a million years, but she wasn’t the only one tip-toeing into us. I believed she would leave, eventually, so, like Christmas morning, I waited for the end.

When I said that supercool line, I was talking about waiting for her, but I was waiting for me, too.

Jacob wakes up in the wilderness and realizes God has always been there, he just wasn’t aware. That is one of the biggest tragedies I can think of, that we are in the midst of the divine, of the amazing, of our lives, of this love, and we just walk on by, as if it’s common, or ordinary. My wife is not ordinary, not even close, and neither is our marriage. Our lives aren’t ordinary, and neither are yours. These are all gifts from Our Creator, if we only have eyes to see and hearts to hold them.

We made this decision, so it doesn’t matter at all if she’s in my league. What matters is that we’re here, we’re 24 years in, and my vows 24 years ago are still true, maybe more than ever – that I couldn’t promise her easy or lots of money or that I wouldn’t be ridiculously high maintenance, but I could promise that I’d love her. What I left out, that I was thinking about outside of that changing room, is what I should have also promised; that I would be there, I would show up, I would not wish for her to get done trying clothes on already, I would not miss these moments shopping, I would never call us ordinary, I would not miss her and this. I will keep loving her. I will not miss us.

I think it’s possible that God wants us to be fully present to our lives, reminds us over and over, in parables and poems and songs and stories, is because He knows what He has made, how awesome it is, what He has for us, how awesome that is, and knows the importance of gratitude and worship in keeping us awake to the wonder of each other and our lives, and Him. I am more grateful than I could ever tell you, for not just today, not just her, but for all of the days and moments and people who have made everything so beautiful and full. And to/for the One Who made, is making, them all.

People

May 12, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I finished a book last week, called Mastering Fear, by Dr Robert Maurer. It’s probably the 10th time I’ve read it, and it never fails to change me in some pretty significant ways. One of the main ideas is to emphasize that, in stressful, anxious, difficult situation, we are created, hard-wired to find others. The best example is when a child is scared, (in healthy environments) they climb into their parents bed for comfort. As we grow, that positive impulse is conditioned out of us. We believe we are on our own, we hold up independence as THE primary characteristic to success, not to mention the myth of the self-made anything.

Friday, my boys and I all knocked off of work/school and went to the theater to watch the Thunderbolts*. It’s the latest offering from the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and the asterisk is a totally intentional plot point that I won’t spoil for you.

The MCU has followed the law of diminishing returns since Endgame, this multiverse business is boring and hollow, an excuse for cheap gimmicks, and has effectively eliminated consequence. Whatever. It’s fine. Disappointing, but fine. I see the movies when I do, but they are no longer vital to me, like The Winter Soldier or Infinity War was. (I have heard a “reboot” is coming to rescue us all from this nonsense, and it is desperately needed. Fingers crossed.)

Thunderbolts* is an exception, it’s fantastic, really great. At their best, superhero films are about big, real life issues, just in a science fiction context. When critics bemoan the explosions and unrealistic elements, as if those bells & whistles are the only reason for their existence, they have missed everything authentic and important and meaningful.

Yes, I recognize that I just called these movies ‘important,’ and they can be. I am not sorry. This is one of those times. Thunderbolts* is the modern human experience laid out before us. It’s super soldiers, enhanced superhumans, and genetic freaks. It’s also about mental illness, isolation, loneliness & crushing depression. Mostly about those.

And, like Maurer’s book, the solution is a team of super-people. Those who show up to hold our hands and help us lift giant pieces of falling skyscraper, to listen, and to save cities. (Of course, that is somewhat simplistic – a buddy isn’t a cure for mental illness, but a buddy always helps. Always. Someone who cares, someone to turn to, to climb into bed alongside of when we’re scared, and sometimes someone who will remind us that pharmaceuticals aren’t a flashing neon sign of weakness or faithlessness or anything else other than a crutch for an injury that may or may not be temporary. Depression and mental illness are complicated. They are also nothing to go through alone.)

These people in our lives are complicated, too. They can be full of contradictions and drive us crazy. The more we allow them in, the more power we give to wound us deeply. They can annoy. They can just be the worst. And they are also the ones who make this life so wonderful.

We don’t save worlds from “the Void” alone, and we don’t build beautiful lives alone, either.

How Did I Get Here?

March 4, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The site is asking me, if I were writing my autobiography, what my opening sentence would be. Hm. Probably, “How did I get here?” Or maybe, “Where am I?”

I’ll turn 50 this year, in a few months, and with more years behind me than ahead, and can look back at the twists and turns and false starts and the forks in all of the roads. I’m not sure any of them make sense, by themselves, but looking around, there does seem to be a certain wisdom – NOT in my choices or planning (my participation looks more like a confused fumbling in the dark) but by a gentle hand that led with a looong leash that allowed me more freedom than I deserved, the freedom to hurt people (myself more than any others), the freedom to do the worst of all possibilities.

I made tons of terrific decisions for the wrong reasons. How? Or Why? Who knows? Not me, I don’t know, but I believe there’s One who does know, and it was His gentle hand in mine, His arms that held me in my broken-ness, His whisper in my ear, that brought me to this site prompt, today.

So, where am I? Here. And I think I got here by following what small flicker of Light I could see or feel. In my youth, I tried and tried to block that Light, to cover It up, to run away from It. But It could not be extinguished. It lit the way for 20+ years, through school, college, then to The Angel, and thankfully, I was smart (or lucky) enough to hold on tightly to her, then these 2 boys, then a faith community so deep and loving, then then then.

I guess how I got here is grace. That’s simple enough. And absolutely True. Just grace. Undeserved favor. (Which we all have, by the way. We all are loved beyond reason or limit. There is not now, and has never been, anything special about me, in that department.)

So, yes, “How did I get here?’ This is pretty fun, because I know that the Here I am today isn’t the Here I will stay. The story will change and morph, I’m nowhere close to a finished product. I guess, now that I’m thinking about it, the biography isn’t really mine at all.

2 Kinds Of People

February 28, 2025/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

A senior in high school, my youngest son is navigating the college process. He is a very sharp young man, an extraordinary basketball player with a terrific GPA and a truckload of talents and gifts, so he has a wide variety of options. That, however, does not mean that his decision is without stress or anxiety, so we were very happy when he was able to choose an institution and release that weight.

Drew University in northern New Jersey was the early front runner, by a country mile. Everything about them was subpar, to my superficial eyes – the unprepared, hurried tour was a waste, the facilities were in disrepair (compared to all of the others), etc – but they offered a program to study in New York City that comfortably set it apart. We ordered t-shirts and informed family that he’d be a Drew bear, or ranger, or whatever.

Drew slowly fell back to the pack, through their inattentiveness. They were mostly uncommunicative, and when they did connect, seemingly put out and bothered to have to answer any questions. But they did have a stellar business program and that NYC opportunity, so they remained ahead, though the margin was not quite as wide.

We visited many other schools, some of them were great, some not so much. Lycoming College (I have no idea what the difference is between a college and university – I imagine it’s easy to find, but I really couldn’t care less. What is true is that there are universities and colleges and there is little noticeable difference between the 2) nosed it’s way into the no. 2 spot, but still, the space between Drew and Lycoming was huge. We scheduled visits on consecutive days in October, after which, he would make his decision.

Honestly, we figured the first (Lycoming) was a formality. He was going to be a Drew bear. We arrived at 8:30ish to find the basketball coach standing outside, waiting for him. This coach would be our guide, spending the whole day with us. We met with professors, prospective teammates, and admissions (where he was awarded a gigantic scholarship), finally ending with basketball practice and formal meeting in the coach’s office. Everywhere we went, on campus, the administration knew and correctly pronounced his name (something the doctor’s office where he’s been a patient since birth can’t yet figure out). The players on the team went out of their way to welcome him. The entire day could best be described as a celebration of my son. He was cared for and clearly valued. The coach asked us to text when we got home, like he was our dad, and when you’re entrusting one of your most prized blessings to another, you want a man who asks you to text when you get home.

As Drew fell back, Lycoming made a deeply compelling argument. As much as we loved Lycoming, the next day was Drew, and it was still theirs to lose.

Again arriving at 8:30ish, this time to an empty silence, we were on our own to find admissions for our appointment. Also again, he was awarded a gigantic scholarship, but this time it was with little significance. Just a folder slid across a desk. They asked for questions, woodenly answered, and sent us on our way to tour the campus by ourselves and, later, find our way to practice. My boy asked for a detailed breakdown of classes in his major, which they quickly, carelessly sent to his email… but of course, the attached document was for the wrong major.

Drew is a little over 2 hours away, so we drove 2+ hours there, sat for 30 min, and immediately returned to the car for the 2+ hours home, and on that drove home, we informed the coach that we were Lycoming Warriors.

There are 2 different kinds of people in the world, Drew’s and Lycoming’s. Lycoming affirms your humanity, treats you with dignity and respect, waits for you outside, makes time to share a meal, and values who you are. Drew condescends, is busy, impressed with itself, is sooooo very important, and might make time. Drew is better than you.

And, as is always the case, the Drew’s are arrogant and self-obsessed…and convinced of their inadequacy, in every way. Their fragile ego is afraid of your greatness, so they hide behind pretense and a curated image. Lycoming’s are humble in their excellence, secure enough to make you the focus. Lycoming believes you are awesome, and wants everyone, everywhere to know it, too. Drew cares only about Drew, Lycoming’s interest is in others, in building a beautiful community and world that is based on shared experience. Lycoming asks what they can do for you, Drew wants to know what you can do for them. Lycoming listens, Drew waits to talk. Lycoming loves, no matter what, Drew might like, as long as you’re useful.

The world needs more Lycomings in campuses and grocery stores, on the road, and in office buildings & churches. We already have plenty of Drews.

Love With A Capital L

A journey towards living an inspired life of love in the modern world

Tag: gratitude