Party Like You Mean It

This recent Thanksgiving I was a little nonplussed to see Facebook posts proclaiming how well people were sticking to their diets. It seemed that some were posting in hopes that they could convince themselves that the dairy free, wheat grass encrusted, free range tofu loaf that they had forced upon themselves and kin was actually edible and sin free to boot.

I think a different tact for celebrations and giving of thanks is in order because of Who we as Christians are thanking. Our God doesn't give us a snake when we ask for a fish and it seems a pattern to follow that we shouldn't offer tofu loaves when celebration calls for turkeys and ham. One wouldn't go to Hawaii and post pictures of a cold storage unit they had spent their holiday in.

Now I'm not calling for wonton gluttony - swerving from that ditch to the other could get one a DUI- but for celebrating in such away that the Pharisees could accuse you of such. They did so of Jesus, as well as calling him a bit of a sot. Which probably comes from other means of celebration. Merry Christmas from the ordinary saint!

Evil Everywhere

Yesterdays news of two major school massacres rocked the hearts of people and parents around the world. The school shooting in Connecticut which, from reports I've heard has left 20 children and 6 adults dead and the school stabbing in China, which left 15 students dead and one adult wounded. These are horrible events that leave good people everywhere in shock. We want to be able to do something. And we ask "Why!?". Let me address the "why?" first and that may, if I'm capable, bolster support and understanding for the "what to do" part. In either case I feel that I may just be preaching to the choir, but the choir didn't get there because they knew all the songs, so I'll continue.

Why do tragic events such as these occur? The answer is more simple than we want to believe and that disbelief is frankly the reason they are becoming more common place. Mankind is evil. We are broken (Romans 3:10-19).
The further a society strays from love and respect for its Creator the further the darkness of our souls goes on display. And contrary to popular belief this starts in the church and leaches outward to secular society. Where there is national/sociatal fault it starts with the church corpus. I hope to delve into this in the future, but not here. In sum, until this world is redeemed depraved individuals will do harm. No law will prevent them, no government can protect us from them. Which leads us to "what to do".

As is normal among people who look to their government for salvation there are cries to remove firearms from those who haven't and won't use them for evil. It is, of course reactionary and straight up foolishness. The murders at the school in Henan, China are proof that man is evil even without firearms. I know that is shocking to some.
First on the "what do we do" list is to understand that evil happens while still in the realm of Gods sovereignty. Better men than me have tried to explain that and I'll leave that to them. I've seen it evidenced in my life and know it to be true.
So evil happens, God is sovereign. Now what? We do what we can to protect ourselves. I know what I say next are simple answers to difficult problems but nobody that has the direct power to make these changes is reading this anyway. And what I'll say generally had already been said by others. Now what I propose we do:We allow teachers to be armed. We don't force them but allow those that wish to arm themselves to do so. We trust our childrens education and minds to them, why not their protection?
We choose to spend our time and money at places that allow us to arm ourselves. The old saw "Gun free zones are a target rich environment" has proven itself true. Either don't give Gun Free Zone stores, malls and theaters your business or don't bother to inform them that you ignore their signs. And this is assuming of course, that you have chosen to arm yourself for your families protection. It is a deeply personal decision that should not be taken lightly. I have no contempt for those who have carefully considered and decided against arming themselves, but only for those who would take that right away. I believe in trusting God and doing my part. That fleshed itself out in having life, health and auto insurance and a Glock 19.

As with anything I say or blog I'd be willing to discuss it further with anybody who asked.

To My Dad

My Dad retired today after 38 years working at Northshore School District. I'm looking forward to him being able to enjoy his time as a grandfather to his two grandchildren and husband to my awesome stepmom, Aletha.

I look back at growing up as his son. Really alot of great memories. I recall building a model plane, a P51 Mustang with him. I remember being especially excited for him to get home every night that week so we could glue more parts together.
The house we lived in in Bothel had a greenbelt through the backyard and Dad built us a tree house and rope swing. Monte and I played for hours on end back there.
By far the greatest memories I have with my Dad involved camping. Yes, the fault lies entirely with my Dad for my love of the outdoors, camping, exploring and that evolved into Jeeping. I don't recall how old I was when we first headed up past Granite Falls in our late 70s Ford Econoline van but our tradition was to stop by the general store and I could pick out a toy from the revolving rack. Plastic cap guns, green army men a truck. They fueled the imagination when we finished building a dam across a creek or caught minnows. Dad could skip a rock across the river using a sling shot, which is pretty much the coolest thing when you're 8 years old. Ha, I even remember my Dad saying "fart" as we were driving down Crooked Mile Road. We couldn't say that at home! That was also the most "vulgar" word I ever heard him speak.Those all were the greatest memories a boy could have with his Dad,and of course many more.

As I got into my teen years, as happens with many young boys, I realized my Dad wasn't the perfect  super hero I always thought he was. He annoyed me and I frustrated him. We butted heads often. I was pugnacious and knew what buttons to push. My teenage arrogance didn't leave much room for mercy. Fortunately for me my Dad had plenty.

At youth group one night when I was 17 our youth pastor, Arnie Guin, spoke about respecting our parents - whether or not we thought they deserved it. Somehow it hit me that I was in the wrong. That night started a slow change in our strained relationship.

The next few years with my Dad are a little foggy in my memory. Things weren't great at home and I moved out when I was 18. Carin and I got married two years later. This caused a huge rift among our families and my Dad and I didn't spend much time together, though he wasn't against our marriage. It was about a year or so later when my mom filed for divorce. Without going into all that involved it freed my Dad and I to spend more time together. Dad wasn't ever much for standing up for himself but the divorce was a wake up call. We both started growing together spiritually and as father and son. There were many times I could tell he was nearly overcome with guilt for his shortcomings as a husband and father. But this is when I really saw the foundation for humility. Dad talked to me not only as a son but as a friend. He listened to me in the same way. I really had the privilege of seeing a broken man become a man of God. When I would get hot headed he calmed me down without talking down to me.
Years after my parents divorce was final Carin and I had a few years of a rocky marriage. Dad and I spent many hours on the phone,he counseling me with the wisdom gained from experience.

I used to be a little upset that Dad didn't teach me how to work on cars or fix things around the house. But, looking at it now, my Dad, at the right time taught me the most important thing. He is teaching me to be a man of God, a husband who loves his wife and a father who can raise a boy into a man. And Dad gives all the credit to God. We, together have been able to experience the mercy of God in the healed relationship of a father and son, the saving of my marriage to Carin, the new relationship of his marriage to Aletha and his discipling me in my new fatherhood. If my relationship with Ethan is even similar to mine and my dads then I will be a success in this life. We give God the glory. I love you Dad. Congratulations on your retirement. You deserve it.

Why I Laugh at All of You

Christians, far and above most people, buy their undergarments pre bunched. That is to say they find ways to be offended and usually about the wrong things. My favorite seasonal offenses are those revolving around the use of " Xmas" and "happy holidays".

We've all heard the old hens cluck at somebody who says "Happy Holidays!" with an admonition to remember the reason for the season. They piously announce that they,as good Christians, only say Merry Christmas.
And this is why I laugh at both of you. I laugh first at the Christian because they should know better. They should know that because we are heirs with Christ we are heirs to the words God created. These are our words and we should know their definitions. Holiday comes from the words "holy day". And if we are worshipping Christ and His entrance into this earth then that may just be a day that is holy (Romans 14:5-6). And IF we know that we should be able to look at each other- with a Christian twinkle and not a dour scowl - and chuckle at the person who uses "Happy Holidays" as an attempt to remove Christ from Christmas.
And that does bring us to the much loathed Xmas. We are often told of how the dirty heathens use an X (scribbled in goats blood, I'm sure) to X Christ out of Christmas. A little history, a little Googlian etymology reveals that the dreaded X is really just an abbreviation in the Greek. For all their writings of mythology and musings of the pen or quill the Greeks still didn't mind the occasional abbreviation. Xmas was the Grecian version of what would today look like Cmas. I for one, wish that they abbreviated abbreviation. That is a long word to describe the shortening of a word.

So I encourage you all to lighten up, spike the eggnog if you need to and know that our God made the words and therefore the definitions. A rose by any other name is still a rose, marriage is still between a man and woman, and the days we choose to honor our Creator are holy.

                Happy Holiday

Warrior Spirit, Warrior Dad / A Three Book Review

If you spend the better part of a minute around me you might find out that I like me some firearms but for even a longer time I've had a fascination with the military. I think it would be a conservative guesstimate that I have consumed over 300 books on the subject in the last 20 years. A good portion of those have been focused on the war in Vietnam (I read every book the Snohomish library had on the subject) . Lately my focus has been on three books written by three Navy SEALS, namely Marcus Luttrels "Lone Survivor", "American Sniper" by Chris Kyle and the latest book "Fearless" by Eric Blehm.

It would be to time consuming to go thru all of them in detail but I think I should give a little info on each of these guys.
Chris Kyle was a SEAL sniper who gained his reputation for the most kills for any sniper in US history. One thing that always interests me is how a man can witness death at his own hand time and again and remain, for lack of a better word, indifferent. Kyle's candid words on the matter are revealing.

Marcus Luttrell was the one SEAL that walked or as the case may be shot, fell, limped, fell, shot and bled his way through the day the US lost more SEALS in the history of the organization. I shed tears reading his account of those hours in hell.

Adam Brown. I don't know where to begin with this story. And I won't really be satisfied with anything I could say about this guy. I really laughed and wept through this entire book. Much like the Bible speaks of the warrior David, exposing all his shortcomings and falls from grace so does the writing of Eric Blehm about Adam Brown. From a mediocre football player with a ton of heart to a meth-head druggy who stole from friends and family until crashing to rock bottom in a jail cell with 11 felonies to his name where he finally came to salvation, to the challenge of becoming a Navy SEAL.And not being satisfied with that was accepted into DEVGRU, the top one percent of the top one percent. And achieving that after losing vision in his dominant right eye in a training accident and four fingers on his right hand when his HUMVEE rolled in a collision. Front there we read about a man who would not stop glorifying God for dragging him from the pit all the way up to his death in the desolate Hindu Kush mountains.

One of the things that strikes me most about these three warriors is their emphasis on family. Men who stare death in the face, see evil incarnate, men who see the depravity of humankind and yet went home to their wife and kids and were (or became, in the case of Luttrell and Kyle) family men.

In Kyle's words " People have an idea in their heads that fathers aren't able to spend comfortable time with their very young children. Hell, I had as much fun as they did".

Adam was known for giving Afghan children rides on his ATV and handing out shoes and socks that he requested his home church send- in place of personal care packages. He was winning hearts and minds for a different Cause.
To sum it up here's the stories of the top one percent of men among men, guys who got the Job done, who are the success stories and the thing all of them come back to is the priority of the family and especially in the case of Adam Brown,the mercy and grace of God.

Thanks for taking the time to read this.

( A little side note if you geek out on these HSLD guys stories like me, Marcus and Adam both were in class 226 of BUD/S which makes for a nice parallel read if you're into that. Marcus ended up being moved to 228 due, if I recall, to injury and Adam graduated with 227)

Political Prose

I haven't put pen to paper for the purpose of prose in a very long time so, in advance forgive me for forgetting every thing I ever learned about poetry, with the exception of rhyme.

On the eve of this election
I ponder my countries direction
Barry spoke my mind when he growled out Eve of Destruction
Now they plan to take our guns
"For your protection "
When all they want is servants in genuflection
If you're a product of government school Google that for definition
Speaking of which you can make your own rendition
"Marriage' they say " is an old tradition"
The Church claims "Its the gays!"
The wise say "It's the Brides sedition!"
The Church indeed is a poor reflection
We believe we're former monkeys
Not Gods creation
While demanding He bless our nation
And sacrificing our babies on the alter of free fornication
So please, let me make this prognostication
The country won't change without a revival in the church and a new reformation
Its time to exchange pride for humiliation

So, tomorrow when you vote for faux-marriage and weed legalization
Know it don't make a difference without a heart transformation
No Obama or Romney nor government legislation can provide what you need
                   Eternal salvation

Husband, Father, Servant

Carin, Ethan and I went to a wedding today. The young couple getting married are active in serving the community and the church and I'm excited to see what God has in store for them.
Near the end of the ceremony Ethan was getting antsy so I took him to the back. What I saw there surprised me. There were at least four dads caring for their children. No moms. Just the guys and their kids.
Now weddings aren't a guys favorite place to be so maybe that was the reason they volunteered to head up the noisy kid care. But I'd like to think better of my fellow dads and so I'll go with this for a reason: Maybe they understand that their wives have been caring for Billy and Becky all week long. Maybe they want their children to see what leadership through service looks like. Maybe, just maybe they want to look like Jesus to their respective families.
I like this concept.

There are more places this plays out than at a wedding.

Think about it. Over the course of the week your wife has likely made you somewhere between five and seven dinners. She probably packed a few lunches. She got up early, went to bed late. She wiped poopy bottoms,washed dishes and your underwear and socks (hopefully not at the same time as the dishes). She probably even got up in the middle of the night to care for a crying baby. And she is fully planning on getting up and doing the same thing again tomorrow.
One of my favorite memories growing up is sitting at the kitchen table, listening to Adventures in Odessey while my dad made us breakfast. That's a tradition that will carry on in our house. The reason being twofold. One, I love my son and want to spend time with him. Two, I love my wife and want to serve her. And you cannot love your children without loving their mother.
So, I encourage you dads, help take a load off your brides shoulders. Get up next Saturday before she does, take care of the kids, let her get up and tend to herself on her own schedule.

But that's just one example. Lets go back to my original revelation at the wedding. Church is another place to let your bride have a break. In our  church there is no Sunday school class for the kids, just child care up to the age of three. This is by design, not for lack of flannel graph  volunteers. Having the family together for worship puts the family man in the position to lead...or not lead properly. The opportunity is there for us guys to step up and serve. We get to serve. A very real way to serve in our situation is to take care of the fussy kid(s).

I really enjoyed seeing those dads, those MEN, taking on the responsibility of serving their families tonight. The family is in crisis in the world today because of a dearth of Godly men. Fighting against that starts with dads, husbands in the home.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. Hopefully I've expressed my thoughts well, and in a God honoring way.
And if you're a Dad reading this hopefully I'll see in you in the back of the church holding your little one soon.

Valuable Life

I can't think of many sounds as sad as a sick 1 year old. Ethan is making those sounds right now. It's heart wrenching. But its the sound of life- no matter the temporary affliction. There is something worse than that sound.

The sound of no baby at all.

Tomorrow would have been the ninth week of Carins pregnancy. The ninth week of our son or daughter. Ethans sister or brother. But God decided that was not going to be. That is His decision to make. While I can't see past the horizon of His plan that makes the the sunrise on the other side no less brilliant. No less worthy of wonder. I'm not one of those who looks at the pain in my story and denies the Author.
Instead I do see the beauty of life a little clearer, with a little less morning fog.

On the side of Life it says in bold, red letters FRAGILE ! Handle with care.
I have friends who have lost babies. Some as tiny as ours, some who arrived on their birthday without life. The thought of their sorrow feels like a stack of bricks on my chest.
Life has value. Those that think depriving a little one of his life for their convenience are warped.

I was looking forward to sometime in May,hearing the cries of our newborn. Seeing that pink little baby. Heck, even changing more diapers. Really. That excitement is postponed but I will look at our third baby with a new set of eyes and a new appreciation.

And I will thank God.

Winter Camping

Even though the warmth of summer has kept us Washingtonians in shorts and t-shirts longer than normal the cool, foggy mornings have pushed into my brain the hunger for mountain top winter camping. Its been occupying much of my thought lately. Obviously,as I stated, the change in weather has been my prompter. But not just that. Part of it has been my internal struggle as a responsible (trying to be) family man to decide what to do with my Jeep. The Freedom Machine. The Adventure Wagon. My backpack on wheels.THE JEEP! I've halfheartedly tried a couple times to sell it. Part of me says its not practical, part of me-a large part of me-says keep it for Ethan. Keep it for memory making. Keep it for high winter mountain camping with your son. So there's my struggle and my lust for winter camping. Many people don't understand camping in the sunny 70+ degree weather much less 17 degree camping. That's fine. Leave those peaks to me and mine. But you're missing out. Let me take you for an adventure in my Freedom Machine.

To make a short story long...

Lets start on a Friday, early December a couple years ago. I've been waiting all week for it, I get home and finish loading the Jeep. The backseat is removed giving way to room for a 10 degree rated sleeping bag that I've had for 8 years now. My Big Agnes two man tent that Carin bought for me (the lady knows her tents. This one achieved top ratings the year before in Outdoor magazine. She got last years model for some 60% off) My ALICE pack that's traveled the world with me,now holding a change of clothes,ammo and Mountain House meals. I still liked beef stroganoff then.( Bad gas and a mummy bag changed that later this particular winter. TMI, I'm sorry). Monte,my closest in age brother, and I share a passion for camping and exploring handed down to us from our Dad. His Jeep is the lowliest in our group of Jeeps but his skill, wrought from much trial and error supercedes everyones expectations constantly. We often enjoy watching new wheelers give him advice on how to conquer a difficult section of trail. He humbly nods, we smile and he blows their minds by taking the route they advised against while making it look as difficult as parking at the mall. But this time there are no onlookers, no minds blown. Its just he and I and our mountain.  Our destination this cold afternoon is Beckler River Road past Skykomish. The sun has long since fizzled into the snowy horizon when we turn off highway 2. The roar of the Jeeps torquey 4 liter makes way to the throaty "whopwhopwhop" after we shift into 4low. In summer Beckler River Rd is driveable by a Honda Accord. But today there's easily two feet of powder, nearly double that at our campsite. Perfect conditions. We take the necessary side road that takes us to our icy retreat. 10 lbs of air in our tires gives us a boost in traction while still keeping the tire on the rim. We slowly wend our way up the Forrest Service roads, above the tree line and finally above the low clouds. The moon is nearly full, bathing a blueish tint to the snow, the shadows a darker blue. We could, and briefly do, turn off our headlights as we drive. The sun is powerful enough in its moony  reflection to light our way.
At last we've arrived. Elevation on the GPS says we're 4,445 feet above the whales in the sea. Not quite a vertical mile above my house. We stomp the snow flat for our tents, LED headlamps filling light into the gaps left by the moonlight. We hadn't planned for a fire, instead expecting to sit around the Coleman stove, boiling water for our food,sipping  Jack Daniels and Dr Pepper for warmth. But the cold gets the better of us when we remember a log that was there last summer, now mired in the snow. Soon its unearthed (unsnowed?) from the grave and Monte strips off the wet outer layer of bark and wood. Amazingly we get it lit. This log, four feet long and thick enough to keep me from wrapping my arms around it, will be but ash by the time we leave. But now its heat. I eat reconstituted beef stroganoff. Stomachs full, it's time for the camping ritual. Cigars. I recall a Romeo y Julietta of some sort. The smell of campfire. The leathery goodness of tobacco leaves from some distant land. The warmth of a little whiskey. Go ahead, close your eyes. Enjoy. Now open them and see my view from this mountain. As the orange of the flames strobes the snow I can look north to the mountain ranges near Darrington and beyond. The clouds below us looking like grey blue cotton candy, the snow on the backs of the mountains 50+ miles away lighted up for our viewing pleasure. It's after the halfway point of night. The week and the cold takes its toll. Its time for bed....

Its time for winter camping...

If you noticed that I was gone,you may notice that Im back.

After a brief (ok six month) blog hiatus Im back.Nothing crazy or alarming has kept me away and definitely no dearth of subject matter has kept me from blogging. No,the only thing that has kept me away has been a power cord.Yep. I mean our old computer died or at least we couldnt get it to work and so we were sans computer briefly.But for a couple firearms related forums,Facebook and this budding blog we dont really need a computer so there wasnt much of a priority on getting a replacement.But a friend of a friend was getting rid of their old laptop which only needed a battery and a power cord.Now we have all those and Im anxious to get back to blogging.
There are several subjects that Im excited to jump on but probably the first one I'll delve into will be Biblical forgiveness/Biblical unforgivness.I think believers miss the boat both ways on this matter so Im interested in stirring up the water here. Eventually I want to talk about the sin of praying in restuarants and other weird things :)
I havent done much writing since high school and I never learned to type so I make no claims of literary greatness or even good-enoughness but I enjoy it and I hope you will too.I think it was G.K. Chesterton who said something to the effect of "Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly".

I'd also like to add that one of the main reasons I blog is to keep tabs on my spiritual growth,to kinda be able to look back and see where I've been spiritually and hopefully see progress. Part of progressing is listening to others. If you see something here that you have any question about feel free to post your questions or arguments in the comments or call me or email me at joshnotlaw7@gmail.com or if you see me during the week just ask.