Sunday, February 28, 2010

Father / Daughter Day



For the second weekend this year, I served as referee of several Upward basketball games.

I know I missed several calls today.

A man towered over the baseline. I could not take my eyes off of him. He was demonstrative, sometimes overly so, and his muted-histrionics focused on one particular girl. His daughter.

The demonstrations were not ones of anger or disgust or frustration. Each movement was punctuated with a smile and either a palms-down push, (pre-tainted) Tiger Woods fist pump, or the classic coach double clap.

But the man was not a coach – he was just a father. A father who caught his daughter’s eye with every trip down the court and directed her where to go and what to do – through sign language.

I recently saw Babel, which tells the story of six interlocked characters from across the globe. One of the characters is a deaf girl, and one of the most jarring scenes is her going to a nightclub; able to see the lights and the moving people, but unable to hear the rhythm they are bouncing to.

Unable to hear the coach, the other girls, or even the referees, the girl looked to her father. The father wholly and lovingly obliged, never missing a chance to encourage. Without saying a word, he loved her.

I hope when my baby girl gets here, she sees me running the baseline, catching her eye, encouraging her, and painting for her a picture of kingdom-love without uttering a syllable. I hope I learn to speak her language.

(I also hope she plays basketball.)

Friday, February 26, 2010

Canada's Last Laugh

Taken after Canada's Olympic preliminary loss to the United States.



Pictured: Harsh reality.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Lenten Learning



For a week now, I have been without the upholder of un-unproductivity, Facebook. Prior to Lent, I was challenged by a few of my students who decided to give up Facebook for Lent. I took on the challenge and spread it around my group – and there are 30 of us leaving out logging in for 40 days.

There has been, however, a disconnect from the purpose of disconnecting. The tension between wallowing in destruction (woe is me, I miss my friends, I wish I could make this my status) and allowing for re-construction (how can I use this time wisely) is ever-present.

The discovery has been in this tension in my own life. Am I de-constructing or re-constructing? Living into cynicism or creativity? Hate or hope?

Friday, February 5, 2010

Sweet Music

The first rule of streaks: you don't talk about streaks! At the risk of messing up the mojo, the following presentation is a Utah Jazz work of art. Why do I watch the NBA? Why do I like the Jazz? I submit exhibits "a" and "b".




Monday, February 1, 2010

Pink'd

There is a uniqueness in youth ministry. The ability to walk the line between adult and youth, to speak with and be heard by both groups. Also, the ability to hold multiple cell phones in your pockets, and remember to return them to their respective owners.

The most unique element of youth ministry? Pranks. Pranks that walk the line between "big enough so you notice" but "small enough so you still love them at the end." After much trash talk, some of my senior high girls have perpetrated the prank to top all pranks - painting some of my office PINK.

They kindly posted the evidence on Facebook.







The bottom picture represents what my desk usually looks like (minus the large purse). My friends were kind enough to put everything back the way it was. They were also kind enough to paint the wall a shade that I struggle with. Thus, the wall looks gray - and therefore great - to me.