Trusting Days

I just spent Easter week on a road trip with my family. The purpose of the trip was to take a vacation, see the sights and end up in Spokane to evaluate the idea of moving there for my PhD. The trip was awesome to say the least. An RV can be a daunting experience, cramped, and never enough time out of the cabin but this was not the case for us. For the first 9 of the 11 days we enjoyed awesome weather that allowed us to get out and see the sites. Seattle was beautiful and so was Coeur D'Alene.

But then there was that little stop in Spokane. Remember I have nothing against Spokane. I am currently attending Gonzaga but through the online program. I went there in January for my residency requirement and I had a lot of fun. But, I didn't really get to see anything outside of the school. My hotel was right next to downtown and the River Park is beautiful, even in the winter.

As we drove into Spokane, we made our way to the school. I wanted to show my family where I was attending and let them get a first taste of the city. It was nice and I felt like I was really enjoying being back in school. It was fun showing off my school to my children. Students were out in the courtyard practicing rugby and the weather was nice. It was a good start.

But then I made the mistake of driving to our RV Park which was not in the best of neighborhoods. We drove down 3rd street and I could instantly tell my wife was not liking the city. I have three kids and security is important to her, as its important to any parent. And she was not secure. The RV Park was actually nice and we met some great people, but as we drove around town I could see my dream of getting my Ph.D. at Gonzaga go down the tubes.

See the point of this story is not that Spokane is a bad city, or that the trip turned bad. Both of those are untrue. Spokane is a great city. A lot of people have told me that it is awesome, and I have to admit we only saw much of the city center. We drove to South Hill to look at houses, and it reminded me of Willow Glen in San Jose about twenty years ago. Spokane is a sleepy little town and I think it wants to be that way.

The point of this story is that as we drove towards Coeur D'Alene the next day, it was as if I was driving away from what I had expected my future to be. I knew that my wife was not into the idea of moving there. As we spoke over the next couple of days, she confirmed this. Something inside of her just couldn't do it. She had become aware over the drive how far she would be from family and she needed certain things to be able to make the move. Spokane just wasn't it.

I wrestled with the emotions that emerge when a dream I had lived with for several months went traveling in a different direction. I had built a story, told my friends, made commitments, looked for a job. This was supposed to be my direction and here it was going some place I didn't expect.

And then it dawned on me that I had narrowed my view. I had assumed that Spokane was the end when it quite possibly wasn't. I haven't ruled out Spokane, but the likelihood is less so since the trip. As I watched my future go a different direction I realized that it was possible that my Father had other plans for me.

I had to make a decision at that moment to do one of two things. I could fight it and try and talk my wife into Spokane, but it occurred to me that this would be an uphill fight and my future wouldn't be there with me. Or, I could let go of my perception and follow my future in a different direction.

I don't believe that I won't get another degree, or my Ph.D. As I step back and lean towards a new direction I realize that as in the past, my Father may have something better in mind.

So what was the point of the Spokane exercise then. Why get all geared up and send me in that direction. I believe what it did was get me to think outside of my box and cause me to see where my heart wanted to go. I want to find some blend of teaching, education, spiritual development, and business.

These are trusting days, and as I ponder a new direction, I'm not scared. I'm very aware for the first time, that following my Father means going in directions that are unfamiliar, but ultimately they will be fulfilling to my heart. I know now that he really does love me. I know that he has something better for me. And if I don't let that go, I'll miss what is perfect for me.

Here we go!!

The Least Of These

I think I saw Jesus today.

I'm traveling this week with my family up the West Coast on a family trip. We're taking a RV for the first time, hitting some great spots. Ashland has great food and a wonderful downtown. Believe the waitress when she tries to sell you a bottle of Medford wine over a cheaper Napa brand. Nice wine.

Today we spent the entire day visiting Seattle. We saw the Space Needle, the Pike's Place Market, but we missed the fish throwers. The immigration rally was taking place downtown and made for a really bad traffic flow. (Note to self: Next time join the rally or stay the hell away.)

As we walked towards the fish market, a woman named Lenora walked up to me. She was obviously homeless and didn't have any shoes on. She tried to sell me a story on how she needed money for a key deposit for the shelter. I didn't really need a story. I knew it was most likely a lie, but it didn't matter. This was my moment to meet Lenora.

I don't like to think about giving to the homeless. What I mean by that is I want to have my hand on my wallet ready to give before they ask. I want this for my own soul. I want to give because in giving I validate myself. In recognizing Lenora's dignity, I lift my own.

I didn't really let her finish her story and I just felt like $20 was the right answer. I don't know how to explain that other than I just went with my heart and gut and what felt right at the moment. I've given to homeless people before but something was different this time. I looked into my wallet and then went to the local coffee house to get some change. I bought a coffee and then went back to Lenora. I handed her a twenty and then asked her if she wanted the coffee. She smiled at me as though I had saved the world that day. Believe it or not the coffee meant more to her than the money at the moment.

I asked her if she like cream or sugar and she did, so I took the coffee back and got it for her. I found out that most coffee establishments in Seattle won't allow the homeless in unless they have shoes. Lenora didn't. I went back and got her cream and Equal, four packets.

While I was gone, Lenora talked with my children and was deeply gracious to them. She made my son laugh and complimented him on his Spiderman skills, which he loved. I returned and handed her the coffee just the way she liked it.

I introduced her to my family and they all were gracious to her. Lenora really didn't know how to act. I left and she was beaming.

I recount this story because I recognized something in the giving that I had never seen before. In giving her money, I was satisfying a present need in her. She may have been telling the truth about the key deposit. Or she may have been waiting for her next heroin dose. I'll never know. But in just giving money, and walking on, I have missed something in the giving.

What I do know is that when I stopped and served her, got her coffee, went back for cream and sugar, she lit up. My recognition of her dignity was infinitely more valuable to her, represented in the simple cup of coffee. As I walked away with my family, she held onto it as though it were gold. It had become a symbol that she was still valuable in this world.

The experience made me wonder, no realize, that the heart can still be touched with love. It made me question our methods of dealing with the homeless and that our first response should be to restore the dignity. It made me realize that there is a human being, deeply valued on the other end of the $20. And when I've done my giving, and walked on by, I've missed the real gift in giving.

I want to thank Lenora for helping me see that.

Roto Players Will Know

For anyone who has ever played Rotisserie baseball you know that Opening Day is a sacred moment. Its that first real day when you get to see how smart you were on draft day, make ridiculous assumptions about your team and go into a frenzy about that one player you drafted for 37 dollars and sucked it up big time. I wrote this fun email to my league in response to those feelings. Because isn't this what we're all thinking?

Message: It's time to dump.

After yesterday, it has become very clear to me that I can't make a run at the title so I'm starting early this year. It's time to dump. I know. I know. Your saying "what?" It April. But think about it. You have to start some time. Why not now? If I dump now, I'm sure to get ahead of the game and every other player who wondered why the guy who he spent 37 dollars on went 0-4 or had a 7.34 ERA.

If you really think about it, its easy at this point in the season to still get you to focus on last season stats before my star player goes into stats hell or blows out his arm and becomes untradeable. I know, I'm a forward thinker.

And...I won't have to spend endless hours this season looking at seventeen different roto services trying to find that one key player that will turn my team into a contender. Which makes me really wonder what I do on Saturday mornings while my lawn grows two feet tall. Damn, is it spring already?

But still...it's April. I know. But think about all the time I'm saving that I could be spending with my kids. Think about all the time I could be working on the next great American novel that I've been thinking about for at least fifteen years. Think about all the conversations I won't have to have as my wife tries to pull me away from the computer to come to bed, but I won't because the waiver deadline is coming up.

You see, the truth of the matter is, I'm a good roto player, but I'm not a great roto player. The best I've done is 2nd, and that was 9 years ago. I know Roloff is not with us this year and that increases my chances about 3% but I don't know if I'm willing to give it a shot anymore. I've decided it time to come to my senses and work towards next years draft.

So, everyone's available. Send all offers.

Jonathan

PS: Just in case you were really wondering, yes this was a joke.

Isn't baseball great?

Love Wins

I have a project that I work on called Vacation Rentals America. It is a vacation rental listing service. It is a fun project and I don't make money on it. It was meant to be for profit but is still in incubation mode. I don't have to do much to support it and I hope that it sprouts someday.

To build the database of rentals I've given away free listings for new customers. They can use a coupon to add the property for free. Sometimes they don't add the listing and I do it for them as a service. It is no big deal.

Yesterday I added a credit for a customer who had signed up but didn't add his property. I added the credit for him so he could then add his information. The process is very easy and usually takes customers 10-20 minutes. The credit automatically notifies him that he can add his information. It's simple.

I got this email back from him.

"I have advertised my condo on many different sites. Your site has been designed by a moron. It is the most unnecessarily complicated and difficult site to create an ad. If I were you I would shut down immediately for you have no chance of making a success. Also shoot your web site designer. Remove me from your mailing list, etc."

Honestly my first reaction was surprise. I have received numerous emails from customers telling me they love the site, the process is easy, and the graphics are great. I thought about sending him a nasty letter, but then it hit me. This guy is hurting. He's probably having a bad day and my auto-email caught him at his worst moment. He tried to get on my site, didn 't understand something and then got frustrated. I sent him back this email.

"(Name Withheld), You must have had a bad day to write something like this. Hope it gets better for you. We've deleted your account. Best wishes. Jonathan"

I didn't expect to hear from him again. But then I got this reply from him today.

"My day has been fine. The truth hurts,eh?"

I was quietly stunned. I realized that to send the first email, he had to spend the time to say what he did. I replied back to him letting him know that we had fulfilled his request. That should have been the end of it. But then he came back at me a second time, with as much spite as the first. I just couldn't help feeling sorry for this guy. To expend that kind of negative energy a person really has to be lost.

I thought about my response all day. I thought about sending him some awful response telling him to "get lost" but not in such kind words. But then I realized that Love Wins. It really does. He just didn't get the memo. And if I really believed that I would respond with my own medicine, which was love.

I finally sent him back a response. It said very simply, "Love Wins."

I hope he stops and really reads it. I also hope I can keep saying it. Because I believe it.

Do you?

The Father's Love

This morning I woke up to my son's feet in my back. Whenever my wife is out of town my son likes to sleep in my bed and he always sleeps sideways. He has to be touching me as if I'm his comfort blanket. He woke up before me and began sitting on top of me telling me he wanted to go downstairs for juice and his favorite Spiderman show. I got up thinking this morning was just like any other. It almost wasn't.

My two daughters were still sleeping, so I thought, and I wanted to close their doors so the sound of the television wouldn't wake them up. Amber was fast asleep so I closed her door. I looked in McKenna's room and she wasn't there. I assumed she was downstairs already.

Carter and I walked downstairs and I proceeded to pour him his juice and put on Spiderman. He tucked himself under the blanket and watched his favorite show. But then I realized that McKenna wasn't downstairs. I assumed she was in the bathroom or something. No big deal.

I went upstairs to find her and checked her room again. I had that feeling inside of me that she had to be somewhere and there was no worry, at this point. When I checked her room she wasn't there. I checked my room to see if she had crawled into my bed, which she has done before. She wasn't there. I tried not to let the fear get to me, except there was one important fact I was suddenly aware of. I had not locked the doors to the back door last night. I rationalized the fear with the realization that if someone entered the house during the night, Kipper, my dog would have barked instantly. He just does that.

I quickly ran around the house checking everywhere. I ran outside. I checked the back, the front, the garage, everywhere. And then for that one split second it hit me. What would it mean to lose my daughter? What would it mean to me not to have her by my side? The sudden thought gripped me. I was not ready for that.

I continued to check the house, now looking in the cupboards, crevices, and under the beds. Amber was now awake and I didn't want to scare her but I was now calling out McKenna's name. She didn't answer. I didn't like the fear.

Amber began to help me but as I checked each little crack in the house, in the showers, places we had played hide and go seek, I couldn't help but process what it would mean to lose my daughter.

Then I went back into her room and there she was, in her bed. The fear left me, now rushes of joy swept into my heart. She was found. I think she was playing an April Fool's joke on me, not realizing it was the 2nd of April. I held her for a minute or two allowing the fear to leave me.

After thinking about it, I was struck by the thought of how God must feel when we leave him. When we choose to walk away into the hands of the world. I was aware of the lost coin, the lose sheep, and the Prodigal Son. How the Father must have felt to lose his precious child. I realized that there is no way he could ever NOT miss us. There is no way his heart could do anything but grieve. That is the way a Father is built. To love his child.

It also made me realize that my Father could never not love me. There was no way I could not love McKenna. It's just not possible. I'm just not built that way. Maybe my Father was trying to teach me that he loves me more than I give him credit for. Thanks You Father.