Rebekah and David Henry

It was inevitable that I’d eventually post another picture of  our two-week-old grandson, David Henry. First off, he’s undeniably adorable – that’s a given. Then I love the image of Rebekah holding him. It was taken at the airport as she was leaving last Friday, so he was 12-days-old at the moment.

I’m also very much conscious that this blog has a wider reader base than just people interested in family photos! The stats this past month have told that story very clearly.

FLUMC Connection: Additionally, placing a link to this page on the United Methodist Conference website reminds me that my overarching interest in “The Fully Engaged Christian Life” is always the most consistent lens that I look through when I write.

God is most gracious: But this is a post that sits easily in both dimensions – personal and public. Looking at the photograph this morning I thought of a hymn I haven’t sung in decades. The words have been lodged deep in my consciousness since I was a child. The first verse goes like this:

I’ve found a Friend, oh, such a Friend!
He loved me ere I knew Him;
He drew me with the cords of love,
And thus He bound me to Him.
And round my heart still closely twine
Those ties which naught can sever,
For I am His, and He is mine,
Forever and forever.

Just a glimpse....

A Glimpse into Eternity: I have loved David Henry since the moment I learned he was on the way. I loved him “ere [he] knew [me].” But where does such an ability to love someone you don’t know (yet so completely) come from? It has to be an echo of the kind of love God has had for me (and you) since God first imagined us. It has to be a glimpse into eternity.

C.S.Lewis (one of my favorite mid-20th-century authors) wrote a lot about the “glimpses” we often get of the deep truths that live so magnificently in eternity. (It’s a lot like the idea the Greek philosopher Plato wrote about when he discussed “forms” or perfect renditions of objects and ideas.) Lewis argues that music and art and beauty in general offer us glimpses – previews – into heaven.

Too much beauty would – essentially – destroy us if we were exposed to it, and the truth about love is more “terrible” still. This is the line of thinking we read in the Old Testament, the idea that humans can’t look at God because God’s purity and beauty and majesty would be too much for us. We just can’t bear purity and light like that.

Well the love that I feel for David Henry  ”ere he knows me” tells me something of the scope – the length, breadth, depth, height and words that enter other dimensions – of God’s amazing love for me. If the great thinkers are right, then the love we’re talking about from God is beyond my capacity to even begin to imagine. Wow!

So God has given me – given us – David Henry. Given this privilege, this glimpse into the heart of love and the source of God’s ongoing care for each one of us. Considered in those terms, God is beyond too much… and so God continues to teach me via my own grandchild.

How gracious. How merciful. How kind.

In love, and because of love - DEREK

I love to tell the story of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory, of Jesus and His love.
I love to tell the story, because I know ’tis true;
It satisfies my longings as nothing else can do. (entire hymn – by Katherine Hankey, 1866 – posted below)

The 1920 Alexander/Maul/Campbell Rocker

It’s a simple thing, really. A grandmother and a baby sitting in a chair. But it’s so much more when there’s a story attached. The rocking chair in question is one of a pair we were only willing to split up when Naomi was expecting. It’s around 90 years old, and was first rocked when David Henry’s great-great grandmother Mary (Mary Roquemore Alexander) started having babies in the 1920′s.

The pair of rockers (or should I say “Roquers”) was the first furniture purchase made after Reed Alexander married his oh-so-young bride around 1920 in Athens Georgia. (Note: the family moved to Ohio when Reed found work at an insulator factory, purchased the rockers in Dayton – where Bob was born – and bought them back to Athens in the late 20′s.)

When we gave the roquer to Naomi and Craig it had at least two sets of tooth marks on the arm. The first was imprinted when Rebekah’s dad, Bob Alexander, chomped the furniture in the vicinity of 1926. Almost 60 years later, either 1982 or ’83, Andrew Maul added his own mark. Any damage perpetrated by Rebekah and her four siblings remains, at this time, undocumented.

Mary Alexander holding Robert D. Alexander, circa 1926

There is a lot of love in that strong rocker. It was, to be honest, hard for me to see it go. It was the right thing to do, of course, but I have so many tender memories of holding Andrew, and then Naomi, as they fell asleep in my arms. I’d keep the rhythm going, back and forth,long after they were heavy into their slumber, unwilling to leave the pure and blessed beauty of the moment.

Some of the best family times are built around that kind of remembering. We may have photographs, and digital recordings, and pictures both still and video, but the best way to remember is still in the sitting around and the telling of stories. Annotated, of course, by “corrections,” “interpretations,” “slants,” “additions” and “addendums,” from those sharing in the telling.

Family history is best when it’s a shared story. That’s what we’ve been doing this year at First Presbyterian Church of Brandon, as we celebrate 50 years as a family of faith. It’s been an all-year-long invitation to share the ongoing story, and to testify as to what God has been up to in Brandon because there’s a Presbyterian Church here.

Always sharing the story

We’re at our best and the most engaged with the Gospel we’ve been entrusted with when we gather in small groups and when we share. We tell the truth about God’s family of love when we share our faith, our questions, our struggles, our enthusiasm, our doubts, our triumphs, our growth and our belief; when we share our experiences of God and our need for God; when we pray together and pray for one another; when we celebrate and when we cry.

We’ve been doing all of that here recently, and we’re the richer for it. Fact is, a story that remains untold is no story at all.

- DEREK

I love to tell the story of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory, of Jesus and His love.
I love to tell the story, because I know ’tis true;
It satisfies my longings as nothing else can do.

I love to tell the story, ’twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.

I love to tell the story; more wonderful it seems
Than all the golden fancies of all our golden dreams.
I love to tell the story, it did so much for me;
And that is just the reason I tell it now to thee.

I love to tell the story; ’tis pleasant to repeat
What seems, each time I tell it, more wonderfully sweet.
I love to tell the story, for some have never heard
The message of salvation from God’s own holy Word.

I love to tell the story, for those who know it best
Seem hungering and thirsting to hear it like the rest.
And when, in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song,
’Twill be the old, old story that I have loved so long.

Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it. – Luke 18:17

Rebekah has her first conversation with David Henry

So how do I build a blog post around this grandson when Rebekah’s up there in Connecticut loving on him, and I’m not? Fortunately it’s not too difficult, because I have a few new pictures – and a picture sometimes says it all.

Like this one. Rebekah finally got to hold him. It was around 3:00 yesterday afternoon, right there in the Hartford airport. It certainly looks like David Henry has a few things to say for himself. Or he’s yawing. It’s difficult to tell. Rebekah said he was welcoming her to Connecticut. I think he was asking, “So where’s my Grandaddy Derek?”

Snuggle down

GOD’S HUG: But overall I hear David is a real snuggle-bunny. He likes to hold tight and just form himself into the contours of Naomi’s lap… or Craig’s… or Rebekah’s for the next few days. And I love that image because it makes me think of God, and how God simply wants to surround us with love – especially in light of this difficult week.

MEN’S ROOM: Wednesday night – all reeling still and full with questions – I chose Psalm 46 for my men’s group. We’ve been reading from the Book of Psalms for the past several weeks and this one just seemed to fit so well. You already know how it goes, so I’ll just quote a few of the highlights:

• God is our refuge and our strength… that’s why we have no need to fear…
• The Lord is with us… the God of Jacob is our strong place…
• God says, “Be still and know that I am God…”
• The Lord almighty promises to never let us go…

"Just hold me, Daddy..."

“Sometimes,” I told my guys, “all we can do is just to be still, to snuggle into God’s presence and cultivate an awareness of God’s care and love.”

I told them about David Henry, and how he doesn’t have the foggiest notion of what his mama or his daddy are saying; he has very little idea what they’re up to; he has no clue as to how he should communicate other than to cry like crazy when he needs something – and even then he really doesn’t know what it is…

But little David Henry does know WHO he needs. He needs his mama, and he needs to be held, and he just wants to be there and to feel her heartbeat like he heard his whole entire life so far – all those months before he was born.

God is the heartbeat of my life. God formed each one of us and created us as particular individuals. God did that with the idea of a relationship of love in mind. And sometimes all we need to do is to lean in close and to let the arms of God wrap around us. And we need to hear that heartbeat again like we did when we were being formed.

That’s all. God’s heartbeat. So snuggle in already – DEREK

Looks like Fall! - Amazon Rain Trees in the side yard

Here in Florida it takes some creativity to really grab the “Fall” experience when it comes around. A temporary drop below 80-degrees and a slight breeze? Bingo, it’s Fall. Sometimes you just have to use your imagination.

This morning, however, has been undisputedly chilly. When I left the house at 6:00 it was exactly 60-degrees. I got to wear a light jacket; I put on my walking shoes (beginning to break them in for Italy); Scout pranced at the end of the leash with her nose in the air and her tail held high; we covered more miles in less time and arrived home feeling invigorated; even the coffee tastes better.

Sleeping David, this morning....

Then my text message “in-box” lit up. It was a hot-off-the-press photo of our grandson David Henry, celebrating the fourth day of his fresh and invigorating little life. Definitely an “Oh My Goodness…” picture. But aren’t they all?

Something amazing happened around Sunday noon in Connecticut. There was a shift in the space-time continuum, a crack in the fabric of eternity, and God reached into this world to place a miracle into the lives of Naomi and Craig Campbell.

"What? It's a little chilly up here. I'm just a baby you know..."

What I love about fall is the relief from the long, oppressive summer. I love the feel of the cool air, the pleasure involved in simply taking a deep breath, the open invitation to simply live. That’s pretty-much the same thing David Henry has been hollering from his high-capacity lungs, all the way from Connecticut.

“Come on out and play. This life is a gift. Embrace the reason you were created. Celebrate and sing and explore the idea of abundant life!”

So that’s it for this morning. View the slide show (below) and see if you can hear David Henry cry; he’s offering you a “no-questions-asked” session of new-life playtime. I believe he knows what he’s talking about…

So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. MAtthew 6-31-34

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- DEREK

Yum yum yum....

Wow… There were new records set for a single-day viewing of my blog post – yesterday. Evidently, the words touched a lot of people (October 18 post “Rest in peace – live into promise” if you missed it).

Today is a new day – Wednesday – and I’m sure you can understand why this post is designed to be lighter.

Tuesday turned out to be a great food day. As you can see from the grainy cell-phone pic, I cooked steaks again. I’m going to begin by explaining the whole “steak-in-a-skillet” thing to those purists who say grilling is the only way. I have this amazing iron skillet with deep ridges in the bottom. Consequently, the steak not only gets the cool-looking “grill lines” but the juices have room to drain and we avoid the whole “boil the meat” problem that typically comes with steak in a frying pan.

Tim and Kelly Black came over for dinner. We decided that people used to feeding two pre-school boys need the occasional invitation for some center-cut tenderloin, fresh asparagus, loaded potatoes and good wine.

Well, we needed it too!

In the middle of a difficult week it’s good to sit down together with friends and simply relax in the company of good people.

Chef Geoff at home

The story continues: Earlier in the day I drove down to Sarasota to share lunch with my brother, Geoff. He took the time to prepare an excellent meal, too, and we enjoyed fresh, homemade soup, great sandwiches and some salad concoction that I can’t pronounce but really liked!

We are continuing our series of interviews about his story. Once again, the conversation ended up in a different place than where we started… because good conversations do that. The point of an effective interview is to help establish exactly where the story happens to be. And then to get out of the way as the story unfolds.

Home at last

Meanwhile, there’s that “new baby” situation unfolding in Connecticut. Word is that David Henry’s parents didn’t sleep any last night – his first at home – but that they did get some”z’s” in during the morning.

But look at him! What an amazing bundle of baby.

Yes, I know this a gratuitous display of grand-baby cuteness. But what can I say? I’ll likely find some way to slip in a baby photo or two every other day or so during the next few weeks.

David Henry - not wanting to go out on his first family adventure!

People have done worse things to boost the circulation of their blog!

In peace and gratitude - DEREK

The evening came; it was the first/last day

That new baby post (Sunday) was certainly good for a couple of days. Nice, huh? I could probably get by with just pasting in new baby pictures  for the rest of the week! But my commitment to this blog – and my readers – has always been for an ongoing conversation about the Life-Charged Life. Today is a new day, and God’s promises are new every morning too.

The picture of the sky was taken – another cell-phone image, by the way – at dusk Sunday evening. It made me think of the light and the life that came into the world just a few hours earlier with the debut of our grandson, David Henry.

However, the location where I took the picture was outside the home of my friend John, who passed away earlier in the day. And so the gathering darkness also serves to remind me that there is a constant battle, a give and take, when it comes to the promise of the life-charged life.

David Henry Campbell - snuggling in

The older I get the more I understand that we are engaged in a constant struggle when it comes to the balance of power here on Earth. I’m not questioning the final victory; that has already been taken care of by Jesus. But we happen to live right here and right now, and there is ground both gained and lost on a day-to-day basis.

This is one more reason that I am so committed to the idea of vibrant Christian community. Christian community does not eliminate the struggle, but it does provide the appropriate context in which to take it  on.

When things simply get to be too much… When hope slips out of the room for a while… When a spouse dies… When a child is lost or out of control… When life overwhelms… When despair is a constant companion… When things simply fail to make sense…

That’s when community – rooted in love – must already be in place. Taking the journey together, being the presence of Christ, serving our brothers and sisters, celebrating together, holding hands when things look grim, whistling in the dark, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs….

Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is. Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit, speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. – Ephesians 5

This life is about the journey. Light and dark. Stunning victory and temporary defeat. Joy and sorrow. Pain and peace. The birth of a much anticipated grand-child and a sudden death that is so troubling and hard to understand.

Life is difficult, period. Death does not make it more so. Birth… well, that helps more than a little. Both ends of the spectrum – both sides of the same coin – are part of the definition of what it means to be faithful human beings in this time and place.

Leaning up against eternity

We are the mortal who constantly brush up against the immortal; born into eternity but fixed – for now – in time; defined by faith, yet tested by doubt; released into possibility while still snagged on unbelief; looking into tomorrow through a vision sometimes clouded by tears….

So rest in peace, my friend. And live into promise, dear David Henry.

For none of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone. If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. For this very reason, Christ died and returned to life so that he might be the Lord of both the dead and the living. Romans 14…

In love, and because of love – DEREK

Darth Maul - 'nuff said...

Cultivate Thankfulness: Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune with each other, in step with each other. None of this going off and doing your own thing. And cultivate thankfulness. Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives. Instruct and direct one another using good common sense. And sing, sing your hearts out to God! Let every detail in your lives—words, actions, whatever—be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way. (Colossians 3:15-17 – The Message)

Taking some heat from the cat

Recently, I’ve been taking some heat from the cat. No, seriously. Darth Maul – otherwise known as “The coolest cat to ever prowl the neighborhood” – has expressed some serious angst regarding all this “Scout for President” noise, the “Dog Blog,” and all the various attention our oversized, galumphing Scout Labradoodle has been generating since the day she arrived home.

So, far be it from me to treat the pets with anything other than complete parity. Here’s a little love for Mr. Darth.

Darth arrived on the scene back in 1999. He was abandoned in the neighborhood and hung around our house for a few days, just to see what might happen.

Coincidentally, that was about the same time “STAR WARS: Episode I – The Phantom Menace” was released. A new dad-guy character burst onto the scene, the apprentice to the evil Sith Lord. His name, Darth Maul. Well, two things were immediately obvious. First, the name of the mysterious black cat. Second, where he was going to live.

"I may be 12 now, but I still move with grace and style."

I even wrote a commentary for the Tampa Tribune that featured my photograph alongside that of the sinister Star Wars character. The legend read “Derek Maul; Darth Maul. Same last name; not related.” That day I was stopped by someone on the street in downtown Tampa – it was possibly the only time I’ve ever been asked to autograph an op-ed column in the newspaper!

But I tell you, this cat turned out to be the sweetest feline ever. He snuggles, he follows Rebekah around the garden, he doesn’t need to be sedated at the vet’s (he waits quietly, talks back just a little, and allows them to do what they need to do), he let’s Scout get away with sticking her nose in his face, he knocks on the front door when he wants to come in, he talks to you. Young adults who have house-sat when we travel come back to visit – not with us so much as to spend a little time with Darth.

One day, when he was four years old, Darth had a terrible accident. We’re not sure exactly what happened, but he had a deep, penetrating, 3rd-degree burn on his neck. It was huge, and he thought he was going to die.

Darth was so convinced he was going to die that (rather than come home and tell us he’d been hurt) he found a quiet, secluded place under a neighbor’s hedgerow and prepared for the end. Fortunately, Doreen happened to hear something. She went to investigate, thought she recognized the cat, and came to get us.

"Did I ever mention 'Thanks'? and say how much I love, love, love you? Yeah, I know, I'm a cat... but I still feel all warm and fuzzy about my people..."

After our vet (Valrico Animal Clinic) saved his life, Darth hid under our guest bed during recovery. I had to crawl under the bed to give him his medicine. Eventually, after a couple of weeks on the brink, he pulled through. He has lived ever since as if he remembers, and is grateful.

I’ve decided that conscious gratitude is a game-changer in terms of how we live. People could learn a lot from Darth Maul. It seems to me that there’s seldom a day that goes by that I don’t remember to pause and give thanks for my family, all my blessings, my life, the fact that I’m forgiven, and the amazing truth that God loves me.

Living in that kind of awareness affects everything. I’m convinced of it.

Peace – DEREK

Geoff and Maggie, at home in Bradenton

¹ You have searched me, LORD,
and you know me.
² You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
³ You discern my going out and my lying down;
You are familiar with all my ways. (Psalm 139)

Every day I find more great stories to tell. Currently I’m right in the middle of telling the church story (yesterday’s post); each Wednesday I publish the story of another local resident in the newspaper; I’m showcasing a number of huge stories in my upcoming book; I share new stories every day via this blog… and – yesterday – I started work on the task of helping my brother, Geoff, begin to tell his story.

You don’t have to be famous to have a story. Fact is we all have one worth sharing, and there are many ways to go about the task. Your story could be told via a series of conversations, a biography, an autobiography, a journal, a blog, a movie, a scrapbook, a collection of letters, a play, a series of recordings… so many options.

Maggie listening in

But, regardless of how we proceed, I believe it’s important that each one of us find people and communities where we can safely allow others to read (and comment on) our ongoing narrative like an open book. Sometimes that simply means being more deliberately open and honest with our spouse or our family; sometimes that means sharing our ongoing story with friends; sometimes that means being part of a support group. We’re not all going to have our life translated into a “Lifetime movie” and discussed on Oprah… but that doesn’t mean we have to remain anonymous to the people who love us.

My brother Geoff wanted to know where to begin. He said it sounded tedious to go back to 1954 (when he was born) and work forward in a chronological line. I told him there are countless ways to frame a personal history; there are so many potential lenses to look through, so many apparently important things that don’t have any place in a memoir, and so many seemingly insignificant events that turn out to be the life-blood of the tale.

And so I did what I do – I asked him some questions, as if I were interviewing him, which I was.

Geoff making tea yesterday, in his home

“Here’s what’s fun and interesting about a good interview,” I said:

1. You don’t really know what you’re going to say until I ask you some questions.
2. And I don’t know what questions I’m going to ask you until you begin to talk.

He was certainly right about the beginning being seldom the best place to start. Now I can guarantee we’ll end up back at the beginning at some point, but the telling of the story will instruct us as to when.

The launch: “Let’s pretend I don’t know you,” I said. “Let’s pretend I’m a writer from The New Yorker Magazine and I ask you this question… Please tell me about a landmark event, an episode at any time in your life, something that represents who you are? What event comes to mind when you think ‘Geoff Writ Large’?”

The question surprised me. It’s not usually on my list. But good conversations are like that. Regardless, Geoff was ready. He jumped on it in an instant.

“Hannah’s wedding,” he said (Hannah is his daughter). And he talked about why the wedding came to mind. The result was about ten minutes or so of free-flowing monologue punctuated by only the smallest of prompts. I realized immediately that this could well be exactly where my brother’s story begins.

We are writing our own story every day

So I wonder, where does your story begin? What event could be the looking glass through which you might tell the story of your life?

There’s no such thing as a life without a story. The real question is, do you even know your own?

- DEREK

The garden from the 7th green

You, LORD, are my shepherd.

I will never be in need.

You let me rest in fields

of green grass.

You lead me to streams

of peaceful water,

and you refresh my life.

You are true to your name,

and you lead me

along the right paths. (Psalm 23:1-3 CEV)

Yesterday evening there was a moment, standing in the kitchen, when life was absolutely perfect.

I was preparing dinner and had just checked on the salmon that was baking in the oven; the aroma was heavenly, a Jimmy Buffett CD played optimistically in the background, Scout was spread-eagled on the cool tile floor. I looked through the window to the back garden where Rebekah – who had just come home from work – was pruning rose bushes; Darth, our cool black cat, followed her as she moved around the patio.

I glanced at a recent photograph of our son, Andrew – living his great adventure in Italy; and our daughter, Naomi – who (along with Craig) is happily expecting our first grandchild in a few short weeks. I paused to offer thanks.

It’s not so much the huge things that make life wonderful, but more often the quiet apprehension of grace in the moment. The way the sunlight catches an open flower; the particular phrasing of a favorite measure of music; Rebekah’s smile in acknowledgment of my wave; the goodness of nutritious food; a welcome pause from busy lives; the knowledge that our children are at peace….

And, when we held hands to say a simple blessing and voice our gratitude for the meal, we were speaking thanks for so much more than good food. Resident in those simple words were all the moment by moment evidences of God’s love that provide sweet commentary on the deep meaning of life, the awesome privilege of sharing truth and inspiration via our work, and our confidence that sublime serendipity will decorate the promise that is tomorrow….

Grace and blessing – DEREK

Hi Rachel; hi Faith; hi Tom....

And, while we’re on the topic of conversations, Rebekah and I fielded an excited call from my favorite niece-named-Faith yesterday evening. “Hang up and call me back,” she said. “But while it’s ringing chose the ‘face-time’ option! This is so cool.” And then she was gone.

Cool if you know enough about technology to follow what’s being said! Well, long story short I flubbed the first attempt, figured out I needed to switch Rebekah’s iPhone over to the “Wi-fi” setting, tracked down our wireless security code, punched in the numbers again and then selected the ‘face-time’ option once it was ringing.

And, way cool indeed, there we were – watching Rebekah’s Virginia Beach family looking back at us through their new iPad, and all was right with the connectional world.

VIRTUALITY: There are several ways to try to understand this video-phone phenomenon. Were they looking into their iPad and then out into our living room? Were they simply looking at an image of us, projected onto their screen? Or were we all meeting up somewhere in the space between, temporarily inhabiting a virtual reality?

This image made it onto the Internet just moments after I took it at 6:45 this morning

We seem to have such a need for immediacy in our world today:

• Correspondence has moved from letters that took months, to the Pony Express, to trains, to airplanes, to emails, to IMing, to texting.
• I used to write newspaper articles that I mailed in, then I started dropping them off at the office on a disk, then we switched to email. Now this blog/column will be posted by 10:00 today. It will be tweeted shortly thereafter.
• The sunrise I photographed at 6:45 this morning was on facebook before 6:46.
• When I left home at 18 I’d send the occasional letter, plus we tried to talk on the phone every couple of weeks. Today I’ll likely talk with Naomi three or four times, we’ll exchange a handful of texts, and there will be pictures too.

But here’s my question – are we actually communicating any better? Are our connections as sound as they were before? Are we able to conjure up substance in the instant mode, or has the bulk of our communication been reduced to drivel?

I’m not drawing any conclusions here, just raising the question.

O.J. in his famous white Bronco

I remember watching parts of the famous “O.J. Simpson white Bronco car chase” on television. What was remarkable was how it all played out at around 15-mph, lasting an interminable time. Ten minutes into the farce I concluded that a two-minute summary on the late-night news would be much better than watching lots of nothing happen in real-time.

Yet, somehow, millions of people were hooked by the idea of “instant”, “real-time”, and “breaking news.” Now we can participate in “reality” irrespective of if we’re actually there or not.

Personally I believe real-time is over-rated. Give me something someone has worked on, edited, fine-tuned, finessed and nurtured into a fine piece of correspondence/news/entertainment.

Repeat after me, people, E.D.I.T... Edit!

But… when it comes to family, I’ll still take them live, unrehearsed and as it happens. The rest of the world can (please…) leave 99% of their content on the cutting room floor!

(I edited this before posting!) – DEREK

Reading from a book about Grace, from Naomi

Yesterday evening Rebekah and I hosted a small birthday party for my mum, Grace Maul. She turned 80–years-old this week, which is a remarkable achievement.

I love the balance of life that family brings. Our daughter, Naomi, is expecting our first grandchild in just three short weeks, and meanwhile my mum turns 80. Yet you can see from the pictures that my niece Hannah’s children, Haley and Hudson, are right there on their great-grandmother’s wavelength. It doesn’t seem that there’s any generation gap at all.

And to think that Haley is still three years younger than my mum was when World War Two started, and when the British government evacuated her from her East London home (she came back after a year). Talk about a lot of water under the bridge since the day she was born in 1931.

Yet there they were, Hudson and Grace and Haley, playing together and chatting happily and perfectly in synch.

Haley crowing her great-grandmother as the birthday queen!

It’s because the spirit is immortal, that’s what I think. Hmm, I didn’t know that was where I’d be going when I opened this post a couple of minutes ago.

But, the more I think about it the more important a point I believe I’m making. The reason my mum is such a “live wire” who is still very much relevant – and never could be otherwise – in 2011 (she was the featured speaker at the women’s meeting at her church Thursday – on her actual birthday) is that Grace Maul is still the same person – at the core of herself – as almost-8-year-old Grace Kemp was back when England declared war on Hitler’s Germany, September 1, 1939, just a few day’s before her birthday.

I think we lose touch sometimes with our essential selves; and we allow our image of who we are to be so caught up with the stress of life, or politics, or work, or our worries, or image, or finances, or discord, or difficult relationships, or the news, or peer pressure, or cultural trends, or fads, or consumerism, or a million other misdirections … that we become ungrounded, misdirected people:

• “old” people…
• “hackneyed” people…
• “the right kind of” people…
• “worn” people…
• “cool” people…
• “fake” people…
• “conservative” people…
• “liberal” people…
• “successful” people…
• “stereotyped” people…
• We’re unrecognizable, or cynical, or self-absorbed or just plain lost.

They speak a common language...

But then we spend time with someone like my mum, Grace Kemp Maul (“Grace Ellen Watts Maul” in British), and we are reminded that the best place to meet one another is as immortal spirits. That’s why my mum has friends who are 80, 90, 60, 40, 25, 15, 10, 5 and 4 (and in-between). That’s why the young women at her church like to hear her speak just as well as her peers by age.

Because age is just a number if you understand and live into the truth that your spirit is immortal.

That’s worth thinking about, isn’t it?

- DEREK

Naomi and baby David (34 weeks)

Thus far I’ve documented several stages of anticipation regarding the advent of our first Grandchild, David Henry Campbell. “The Granddaddy letters” have chronicled joy, speculated on the future, wondered at the beauty of a simple sonogram image and even dabbled in “advice” to the new parents (thinly disguised, of course, as hopes and dreams).

Then yesterday, just four weeks ahead of the official due date, we ran into our first episode of serious concern. For Naomi, a weekend of severe back pain morphed into an early morning fever and it was “off to the doctor’s office” instead of going to work.

Little David – not so little, it turns out – had been (as my English friends would have said when I was a kid) “Giving some agro” to one of Naomi’s kidneys. Translated, that means he was wrestling, kick-boxing and variously pummeling the organ to the extent that it was unable to adequately perform its necessary functions.

The good news is that Naomi and Craig are very much on top of the situation and they have – unlike too many Americans – both viable health insurance and access to top-quality care. Our first grandchild is in good hands; he has been loved and taken care of since the first vague suspicion of a pregnancy. Our kids are doing this right, and in the context of mutual faith and commitment; we can’t ask for anything more than that.

"As o'er each continent and island..."

The episode made me realize once again the extent of connectivity that runs so deeply in family. It amounted to part-two of a double-whammey that started Sunday afternoon at the Episcopal church during remembrance services for 9-11. We sang the old hymn The Day Thou Gavest, Lord is Ended. During the middle two verses I thought of Naomi (far away in Connecticut) and of Andrew (all the way over in Tuscany)… and I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in my eyes.

We thank thee that thy Church, unsleeping while earth rolls onward into light,

Through all the world her watch is keeping, and rests not now by day or night.

As o’er each continent and island the dawn leads on another day, 

The voice of prayer is never silent, nor dies the strain of praise away…

And, yes, it was already a nostalgia-loaded hymn because it was a family favorite growing up attending Sunday-evening services at Folkestone Baptist Church in England. And, yes, my parents were there with us that afternoon. And, yes, I’m turning into an “old softie” who has long-since conceded defeat in the battle to pretend that real men don’t cry…

It’s not so much that I wish our children still lived in Tampa – I honestly don’t, because I’m so thankful that they are leading full and meaningful lives, engaging in adventures that are truly their own. No, it’s more of a profound sense of love and gratitude and blessing, all wrapped up in a kind of wistfulness.

I don’t cry because I’m sad; I cry because I have learned – over the years – to feel things like love and loss and joy and yearning with an intensity that I don’t believe our human frame can handle very well – at least not mine.

Glimpses of truth

Glimpses: In our human experience we are given glimpses – C. S. Lewis suggests – of the truth of heaven. Sometimes via music, or in relationships, or through art, or wondrous revelations in nature. Such experiences are a kind of muted preview. Too much of heavenly truth, Lewis theorizes, would do us in. That’s how seemingly contradictory phrases such as “withering beauty”, or “terrible ecstasy” manage to make sense.

Well, this love affair with life that I have; this parenting thing; this rich relationship with Rebekah; this upcoming granddaddy business; this renewed and ever growing spiritual awareness, I’m telling you, it’s all maybe more than I have yet learned to manage.

I am full with life, and sometimes I simply can’t contain it.

- DEREK

Worth the creative effort...

Okay, now for this morning: I want to pick up on an observation I made in an article I wrote yesterday for All-Pro-Dad. The title of the column is Ten Ways to Build a Relationship Now You’re Married. Writing the piece made me think about what happens to so many couples after their wedding. They are surprised at the complete turn around. Then, after just a few weeks, they find themselves saying things like, “Who is this?” “He/she is nothing like the person I married!” and “Why is everything completely different now…”

My article looks at ten initiatives we can take to actually build – or re-build – the relationship.

This is especially on my mind because I’ve also been thinking about the general concept of happiness. What makes people happy – and this is a world-wide phenomenon – is not what we possess, or even political freedom, but our relationships.

People seem to understand this when they’re dating! Up to and including the wedding, the relationship drives everything; nothing else matters. Then, within a short while of the “I do”s, this connection (one both parties forged so deliberately) gets pushed back behind a long list of new priorities. Setting up house, making ends meet, sleep and work and responsibility, raising a new family. “Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…”

• We all lives that involve a lot of routine, the day-in day-out that can become – if we’re not careful – little more than “The daily grind.” Dating, discovering one-another,opening ourselves up, exploring a relationship – this was a magical glimpse of life-charged life. The relationship was all about the excitement away from that routine.
• Then – all of a sudden – instead of escaping the routine to be with the love of your life, marriage brings the relationship squarely into the realm of the routine. The only place you seem to meet anymore is in the middle of the humdrum that – when you were dating – you escaped from to be together….

If married couples are not careful, they lose the specialness of the relationship. Then it’s not too difficult to imagine escaping that humdrum and looking for life elsewhere.

What amazes me is the fact that so few people recognize what is happening! They just feel disappointed – or wonder how they lost one another – or look to assign blame. But it doesn’t have to be that way! Relationships are worth the work and the effort and the application of creativity and commitment and imagination.

"Life is a daring adventure..."

We’ve already discussed the fact that real happiness is most often found in the context of relationships. So why not work on the one that captivated us so much to begin with?

Maybe we’ll get back into this discussion another day. But, for now, think about how amazingly worth-the-effort your relationships are, and how wonderful it is to love and live with life-charged imagination.

- DEREK

Image captured early Saturday evening

I’ll admit it, this is a very unusual picture. It’s not clear, there’s obviously some movement going on, the colors are kind of cool, you can make out a hand… but that’s about it.

The photograph has an ethereal quality – there’s something going on but it’s hard to pin down. You know there has to be some discernible content, and also some kind of explanation as to why the image is so distorted – but wrapping your mind around it is takes some doing.

I’m guessing most of you have figured it out by now. And, of course, it’s easier to make out once you know the subject matter. So here’s what happened:

We’d just had dinner with some great friends, ten of us celebrating life together, enjoying one another’s company. Then we sat around and chatted while two of my favorite children in the whole world made all sorts of commotion in various parts of the house.

I could hear the youngest heading my way, and I knew he was about to tumble into the living room and go for some of the cars on the coffee table. So I pointed my camera in his direction and hit “click” as he rounded the corner. However, being a cell-phone it took a while to shoot the image and I had to adjust my aim at the last moment.

Bingo! One small boy, stretched and distorted like a poorly calibrated “Beam me up Scotty” as I did my best to hold on to that particular moment in the space-time continuum.

Andrew, in Pensacola, circa 1988

But you know it’s very difficult to isolate and then hold on to a discrete moment in time. Some theologians talk about “The Eternal Now”, but I’m more inclined to believe what’s really going on is the “Eternal just missed it”, or the “Eternal whoops, there it goes.” Because the instant that we pause long enough to reflect and to process what’s taking place, why, the moment has just slipped into the past and we’re left grasping a blurred remembrance.

Rebekah’s brother Jesse posted this photograph of Andrew on facebook just a few minutes ago. Good grief! I can see the event so clearly in my memory. And there’s Naomi, watching in the background.

Rebekah calls it “Grabbing a memory.” She would always tell the children as much on vacation or during a special event, “Don’t forget to grab some memories today!” And we would.

Once in a while we were able to hold still long enough that the memories would come out clearly, like this picture of Andrew on Jesse’s road bike. In fact some of the most sharply etched memories don’t even have photographs to go along with then.

And then there would be the rush, the out of focus, the jumbled together and the blurred; hundreds of thousands of images sometimes covering weeks or months. And the children grow, and we get older, and the moments come fewer and further between because all of a sudden they’re living in Connecticut, and Italy.

I don’t know where I’m really going with this post, except that the two pictures came across my desk top within a few moments of one another and the connection, the message, was too powerful to pass by without noting.

There are people I loved dearly – both friends and family – who have already slipped out of focus, passed into history as their days on this earth came to an end. And there are those I love dearly whose image I want to (need to) sharpen considerably while I still can.

I guess I’m saying that while I understand that space and time are always fluid, and that there is no such thing as any moment that is not instantly relegated to the past, we always have this golden opportunity to live completely in the slice of eternity that is this day, this hour, this moment.

Grab a memory!

There are realities such as love and hope and peace that have more substance and more durability than the transience of time. Heaven and earth will – one day – cease to be, Jesus said, but the things that are true will continue. I think this is amazing, wonderful and immensely sobering.

So grab a memory by living in the truth of what really matters. Love, hope, peace. Live in love in this moment, live in peace, live into hope. Time may be fleeing, but truth is eternal.

- DEREK

Andrew heading out to Europe once more...

Well, it was drive back out to TPA (Tampa International Airport) yet again Sunday morning. Andrew was home for all of maybe ten hours this time, en-route from Central America to his home in Southern Europe: Nicaragua; Miami; Tampa; Philadelphia; Munich; Florence; Pisa. Piling on the miles. It’s no wonder they gave him one of those platinum cards and an extra bag of peanuts!

The mission trip was a success, and both Rebekah and I have been hearing beaucoups of good things about Andrew from the other team members. And I must admit to harboring a certain amount of pride, sitting next to him in church. “Yeah, that’s my son, right there; chip of the old block; taught him everything he knows…”

NOT! Well, I taught him a few things maybe, but nowhere near everything – and he’s certainly much more than a chip off any kind of a block. Andrew is his own person, 100%, and that’s what makes Rebekah and I feel so good about all of this. Our kids are so much more than extensions of me, or Rebekah. Both Andrew and Naomi have become these awesome young adults, and they have their own way of relating to life, and I believe they are both well on the way to making their world a better place.

If Rebekah and I have accomplished anything at all well, then I believe it has been in the realm of laying the groundwork, tilling the soil. We set things in motion the best we could – what they have done with it has been up to them.

• We raised our children in a way that ensured they knew without a doubt how much they are loved…
• We raised them to know and love God…
• We raised them on our knees and from our knees, because we knew it was a bigger task than we could accomplish on our own…
• We raised them in the context of the community of faith for the same reason…
• We raised them to understand that struggle is part of the definition of life, but also that redemption is always available because God is faithful…
• We raised them to be well-equipped to take life to the next level – if they chose to pick up the ball…
• We raised them to love and respect other people…
• We raised them to take responsibility…
• We raised them to be both self-sufficient and to rely on God.

Craig and Naomi (and David Henry)

At face value that last one sounds like a it could be a contradiction. But it’s not. Learning to rely on God is a key element of self-sufficiency. Because self-sufficiency is all about tapping the resources available. Those resources include learning, and hard work, and creativity, and community… and an ongoing relationship with the Creator. Including an active relationship with God is the most crucial element of what it means to live a fully engaged life.

Today is another Monday morning. I pray that we all head into this week determined to make the most out of it, and to do our very best as people living “The life-charged life”. Knowing that our children, Andrew and Naomi – along with Craig, are living that way gives us one more reason to celebrate.

In faith, and out of hope – DEREK

Birthday goodies for my Dad

Today’s post is an actual letter to my (as-yet unborn but already dearly loved) grandson, David Henry. David currently resides in Moodus, Connecticut… or wherever his mama, Naomi, happens to be at the moment. He is expected to make his debut in mid-October.

Dear David Henry: Today is your great-grandfather’s birthday. He’s 83. I thought you’d like to hear about it because you’re named for him (along with your dad’s grandpa, Henry).

We had a quiet gathering last night in Sarasota. Yes, that’s right, you have great-grandparents living in the Sunshine State. I know it sounds cliché, but – believe me – your great-grandfather David (G-G/F-D) is anything but cliché.

There are a couple of highlights from last night I’d like you to know about. This is not just history, David Henry, it’s already a part of who you are.

I know you haven’t had any math yet, but in order to be 83 today, G-G/F-D had to have been born in 1928. G-G/M-G (that’s your great-grandmother Grace) asked him a few questions about the years he spent living with foster-families in the north of England during the first three years of World War Two. You see, he was one of those children who were “evacuated” because of the bombs and the threat of invasion.

G-G/F-D talked about the four homes he lived in – The Greens, the Browns, the Whites and the Wrights (a doctor, a miner, the landlord of a pub and an Army family. G-G/F-D said he had to share a bed designed for one, and that he was hungry all the time – “But it didn’t mean they didn’t feed me,” he said, “It’s just that I was eleven years old!”

He did things like play cricket, attend a small mission chapel down the street, and go to the movie-house to watch the huge organ literally rise up from the floor when the organist played during the intermission (and he only got to go to the movies  because his parents weren’t there to stop him!).

David Henry, I hope you get to spend a lot of time listening to G-G/F-D’s stories. And, don’t forget this, G-G/M-G has some pretty wild ones too. These stories are a deep part of who you are.

David and Grace talk about life in WW2

Talking of who you are, that’s the other thing I want to share from G-G/F-D’s 83rd birthday party. We sang around the piano. This may sound like a small thing; but, believe me, it is huge.

G-G/F-D picked two of his favorite hymns. We sang “Dear Lord and Father of Mankind…” and “I thank thee Lord that thou hast made the earth so bright….” Both of them have six verses and the second one – BTW – was part of the service the day I married your grandmamma Rebekah.

But here’s what I’m getting at – and it’s more evidence that I am becoming a sentimental, tender-hearted old-dude!

• I heard my dad’s voice – your G-G/F-D – and so I looked over at him and my eyes just filled up. I saw how he was singing without even looking at the hymn book (all twelve verses if you count both songs), and I saw how full his heart is with faith and love and the peace that comes from knowing the Lord he was singing about, and I understood how fortunate you are, David Henry, to be born into a family defined by such faithfulness and commitment…

Listen closely, David Henry. Do everything in your power to make sure such a story becomes more than a cherished memory, or a piece of nostalgia, or a quaint entry in the family history. Such a faith must be experienced, and owned, and sought out, and practiced, and crafted into the character of what it means to be David Henry Campbell of Connecticut. Bottom line, dear grandson, it has to become your very own.

Your grandaddy

So I am – at this moment – praying for your amazing parents, Naomi and Craig. I pray that they, too, cherish the hope and joy and great love that comes from establishing a deliberately Christian home.

Your G-G/D-B (great-granddaddy Bob) spoke the following benediction over your Mama and Daddy, Naomi and Craig, just a short while before he passed away. He was not feeling at all well that day, but he mustered his strength and called them back as they were saying good-bye. He spoke clearly and he spoke from his heart:

“‘The LORD bless you
and keep you;
the LORD make his face shine on you
and be gracious to you;
the LORD turn his face toward you
and give you peace” (Numbers 6:24-26)

Rebekah, Derek, Naomi (David Henry) and Craig

Children are a heritage from the LORD, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them. (Psalm 127)

Rebekah is in Connecticut, helping Naomi set up the baby’s nursery. But it’s her birthday, and it feels wrong not be together July 18. It’s also my son-in-law Craig’s b/day today, so it’s no surprise my mind is on family today. We’re most thankful that our children are grown and happy. But it’s almost impossible to get even our small family all together. Sure, we managed 100% of Rebekah’s siblings at the South Carolina reunion, and nine of the ten grandchildren, but we really missed Andrew. Tuscany is a long, long way and when he does make it home Connecticut is still 1300 miles up the east coast.

But I did manage to photograph some most excellent family groupings. I’ll feature some of my favorites here along with some appropriate commentary.

all the nieces and nephews

One of the rarest images to capture is that of all ten grandchildren, and we didn’t quite make it in Santee. But I do really like this poor-quality cell-phone image I caught of Rebekah with her nieces and nephews. The big party (after church Sunday) had just broken up and I looked up to see all eight of them kind of swarmed around Rebekah. No time to get out the Nikon, but my phone was in my back pocket and you don’t set up something that awesome – you either capture it or you don’t. Sarah, Lindsay, Jared, Jordan, Seth, Rebekah, Reed, and then Micah (prone) and Faith in the front.

Roy, Rachel, Rebekah, Joe, Jesse

Family Dynamics: Every family has its own peculiar dance. The more children there are the more complex the choreography. That’s why this next photo is such a gem. Rebekah is the middle child of five, and they’re all ordained elders in the Presbyterian Church. That fact alone is a potential blog post in itself but I’ll let it pass.

We get together in twos and threes but seldom as a full set. The last time was Naomi’s wedding and nobody thought to photograph the whole handful.

Genealogy experts point out that most family lines disappear within just a few generations. We did some research and realized that both the Perkins (Rebekah’s mama’s maiden name) and the Alexander strains are in the hands of the youngest child. Both are named Jesse, and they were born just a day apart.

• 

  The Jesse's and their boys!

  Jesse Alexander is the youngest of five Alexander siblings, and he has the only boys – Seth and Jared – who carry the Alexander name.

• Jesse Perkins is the youngest of four Perkins siblings. and his boys – Cameron and Dawson (Spellings?) – are the only candidates to carry the Perkins name.

So I thought that would be a photo for the ages.

I shot a lot of cool combinations, and I’ve included a few more in this slide show. No matter how you line them up, family are irreplaceable.

… Now if we can just get that photo with Derek, Rebekah, Andrew, Naomi and Craig….

Slides….

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Tom serves his daughter, Faith

Here’s a question: PART I – Is this communion?

In this picture (to the right) Tom – my brother-in-law, is serving the bread and the wine to Faith – his daughter. Ed, who is watching Tom, had just been served by his wife – Rebekah’s cousin Zandra.

We came together for worship as a family (various Alexanders and sundry Perkins’s), as a family of believers (various Presbyterians and sundry Methodists and an assortment of other blends and flavors), and as an extended human family representing at least three continents.

Rebekah brings the message to the family

Rebekah gave the message, and her brother Jesse served communion; they are both ordained Presbyterian ministers serving churches in Florida. Jesse, Micah and I led the singing. And Anthony Perkins, who is a commissioned lay-minister in the Methodist Church, gave the benediction.

Coming together as a worshipping community is always a meaningful occasion, and I especially look forward to the first Sunday of every month, when we celebrate communion together at First Presbyterian in Brandon. But when your extended family is also the family of believers… and when the church family is also your family of brothers and sisters and cousins… then something exponential happens in terms of what it means to break bread together.

So is this communion....?

And so – PART II – is this communion? The picture I’m referencing here is the melee of covered dish lunch after church! Cousins elbowing and laughing and serving one-another from the shared table. For the adults, just watching this part of the feast conjured memories of gatherings past – and isn’t communion all about remembering?

This we did in remembrance not only of Jesus, who first offered the bread and the wine, but in memory of Nell Perkins Alexander – Rebekah’s mama, who died just a short while after the big family gathering at St Mary’s in 1999… and of Bob Alexander – Rebekah’s dad, who departed this life just two weeks prior to Naomi’s marriage to Craig in 2007… and of Al Perkins, and Grandaddy Albert and Grand-May….

And we shared communion in the bread and the wine and the squash and the chicken and the potato salad and the tomatoes….

As complete a Perkins-Alexander family portrait as is possible given the far-flung nature of our loved-ones....

Or – PART III – is this communion? One more big family portrait. But Naomi and Craig were still on the road from Connecticut… and Andrew was at his home in Tuscany… and Rebekah’s brother Roy and his wife, Lynda, were worshipping with the church where Lynda was recently appointed as music director… and the Jesse Perkins family were already back in Sylvania… and Zandra’s brother, Albert, insisted he needed to be with his cows in Newington….

But family gatherings without some of the family are communion just the same. Because we acknowledge the communion of the saints – and that doesn’t just include the “dear departed” but the reticent, and the recalcitrant, and the traveler, and the ex-patriot, and the lost, and the angry, and the sick, and the tired, and the distracted, and the hurt, and the estranged, and those who want to be there but simply can’t….

Sharing the word

Preach it, Rebekah! “He (and she) has God’s mark on him,” Rebekah said as she preached her way through Genesis, all the way from the beginning, where God said “this is good” to the reunion of Joseph with his long-lost family, where it was good once again.

She was referring to the fact that God’s love, and care, and purpose for us far out-reaches the temporary detours we often take. God is faithful and God’s promise is – like the Covenant with Abraham – new every morning and to every generation. Things in the Genesis story became “good” again only when Joseph lived his life in the truth of that bountiful promise.

The answer, of course, to the communion question, “Is this communion, or is this communion, or is this communion….?” is – “YES”!

“For where two or three are gathered in my name,” Jesus said, “I am there among them.” And, believe me, Jesus was there last Sunday morning, and it means so much to be a member of that kind of a family.

- DEREK

Jesse, Micah and Derek leading an arrangement of "How great thou art."

Self-portrait - early morning on Lake Marion in Santee

If, when we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! - Romans 5:10 (NIV)

Well I’m back from the family reunion… but not really. Rebekah drove on up to Connecticut with Naomi and Craig and I’m up-to-my-eyeballs in writing camp here at home. This is my “make-or-break” week on the new manuscript so I’ll be – essentially – incommunicado, other than these morning blog posts to get my writing engine warmed up!

NATURAL BEAUTY – It may have been hot in South Carolina last week (and we’re talking over 100-degrees most days), but there’s no denying the beauty of the Santee State Park recreation area. We stayed in a cluster of five cabins built out on a pier on Lake Marion. During the week around 30 immediate siblings and cousins from the Alexander-Perkins branch of Rebekah’s family spent anywhere from a few hours to seven days with us. I’ll write more about family later, but today I’m simply going to highlight the setting.

Hiding in the Cyprus Trees behind the cabins

I woke up early most mornings to get some coffee going and have a few quiet moments for meditation before the others spilled out of the cabins. Early is also the best time to see the birds – Lake Marion is home to 300 species. I’m no naturalist, but I certainly enjoyed the show.

Early mornings not only provided quiet time for prayer and meditation, but also some of the best views of the water. Today I’m trying to reduce my collection of photographs to a manageable number, but I’ve noticed I have as many as ten shots taken of exactly the same view… but at different times and in different conditions. The water is constantly changing and – consequently – each image is entirely unique.

Around the first headland to the pier at the boat ramp

But the early morning serenity was certainly the most compelling. Here I walked through the woods and down the shoreline to the public boat access point. Sunsets offer more of the reds and yellows, but these morning shots tended toward blue and gray, a gentle invitation to pause and offer thanks for another day. And I couldn’t help but think about my ongoing “life-charged” theme and the relationship of light to fullness of life. The Christmas hymn declares, “Light and life to all he brings, risen with healing in his wings….” Each new morning offers healing and life, and the truth of it was beautifully illustrated, over Lake Marion, every day.

The early morning view from the picnic table outside our cabin

Back at our cabin, all I had to do was step outside with my cup of coffee and sit on the picnic table to receive this, more subtle, invitation. Rebekah eschewed her usual morning reticence and came out to join me. Most days we read the Upper Room morning meditation together, and then held hands to talk with God about the coming hours, an offering of trust and faithfulness that added a sweet spirit of holiness to the emerging day.

Simply, profoundly, beautiful...

We live in the middle of a most awesome creation! I have to admit that my pictures are doing a better job today than my words, so this is all I have to say in this morning’s post. Tomorrow I’m going to write about family worship, and the remarkable service we celebrated together, sharing communion as brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews.

Peace, and blessings. It’s good to be back at this keyboard – DEREK

Scout Labradoodle checking to make sure I'm still here

Scoutie! Consequently, I’ve considered collaborating with Scout Labradoodle on the occasional blog post. I guess we could call it a “dog blog!”

Yesterday we had to make a quick visit to the vet’s office for a booster shot. The rain was torrential, so I left Scout with Christine (the clinic manager and a wonderful friend) for around 45 seconds while I moved the car up close to the entrance. 45 seconds! You know that’s not a lot of time in the great scheme of things. But, 45 seconds or 45 days, it was still a glad reunion for Scout! She burst through the office door and jumped all over me in excitement before bounding into the back seat of my car.

Scout evidently sees life in two very clearly defined categories. With my family. Not with my family. There’s no middle ground with her.

Scout has an uncomplicated view of the world. Everything comes back to relationships. Nothing else really counts.

• 

  Scout laughing about something....

  She could be tired, hungry, sick, recovering from surgery (she once ate significant amounts of pink fiberglass insulation!), soaking wet from a sudden rainstorm, or in trouble for stealing something potentially edible from Rebekah’s purse, … but all is right with her world if only she’s with her people.

• Or she could be living it up with her favorite food, lying in her personal cool spot on the tile, heading out for a three-mile hike around the neighborhood, or sorting through her box of toys… yet none of it means a thing if she can’t share it with the people she loves.

She’s on to something, you know. When I think about how much time and effort people dedicate to acquiring goods and services, things advertised to improve our lives and make us happy. Then I consider how much effort goes into valuing and nurturing relationships. Our spouse. Our children. Our parents. Our friends at church. Our neighbors.

Maybe we should get ourselves a more uncomplicated view of the world. A dog’s view:

• People = good!
• Stuff = merely decorative.

At Bible-study Tuesday evening, Charles tagged our Corinthians study by reading the following from the end of the second book.

“Finally, brothers and sisters, rejoice! Strive for full restoration, encourage one another, be of one mind, live in peace. And the God of love and peace will be with you.”

Scoutie

It sounds like something Scout Labradoodle would wholeheartedly agree with.

- Woof!

Scoutie

Disclaimer: All photographs were taken within a few minutes of Scout’s most recent grooming. Being a real labradoodle, she may or may not look anything like these pictures in real life. (no offense, Scout!)

Medical Center

Yesterday I got up uber-early to head up to Gainesville with my brother, Geoff. He had an 8:30 appointment with the transplant specialists at the Shands Medical Center. His clinical day, Monday, was Shands in the morning then Moffitt in the afternoon and lots of time on the phone with the Miami transplant center in between.

Essentially, being sick is a full-time job.

Shands turned him down. But the trip wasn’t an entire waste of time because you learn something every go-round – and this was the first opportunity I’d had to actually sit in on a conversation with one of the doctors.

Essentially, Shands said “no” for the same reasons Mayo did  in Jacksonville… then more besides because it’s been a few months since the comprehensive Mayo evaluation and a couple more things have gone south since.

I’m not posting my blog today to hang all my brother’s personal medical details out for public view, but to talk about a couple of Big Picture stories that Geoff’s journey bumps up against and sheds some light on.

First is the enormity and complexity of liver disease. The doctor told us there are 15,000 people on the transplant waiting list at any given time – and around 4,000 procedures annually. One reason people don’t get new organs is availability, and the other is when the team doesn’t think a new liver would solve the problem.

Another story is cost. Cost is a tricky issue to talk about because there are a lot of internal contradictions, logical non-sequiturs and “1,000 pound gorillas in the room”.

Nurse updating files, questions, etc etc etc.....

First of all, cost is entirely irrelevant if you don’t qualify for a procedure for medical reasons. Then, and certainly related to this, no amount of money is capable of effecting a cure that’s not there to be had. At the same time, all resources are in a finite supply, so both benefits and expertise are allocated according to industry standards. It’s a fact of life in that enough money will certainly buy preferential access… but dollars probably won’t buy a liver you can’t use, and money certainly won’t change the medical facts of your case.

We also discovered that cost-cutting measures back at Geoff’s old workplace (the people who provided medical insurance as an employment benefit) directly impact his point of service options. Simply put, when my brother’s old boss decided to switch to a cheaper healthcare policy, Geoff lost benefits.

The doctor at Shands was personable, friendly, engaging, knowledgable, familiar with Geoff’s file, frank, realistic and – this is important – attentive. He was not rushed or conscious of time, he fielded every question and he wasn’t evasive out of fear that we’d quote him somewhere else or attach unreasonable expectations to his opinions. Above all, he obviously respected Geoff, Geoff’s medical knowledge, and his level of understanding. The doctor even offered concrete suggestions as to what specific questions he would have addressed next if Geoff had been accepted as his patient.

So, kudos on the doctor… but ongoing disappointment in Geoff’s liver. His liver is supposed to be a vital organ, but it seems to have commitment issues, and is continuing to move toward an increasingly vulnerable future.

I may be learning a lot – but I don’t necessarily like what – now – I know.

-  DEREK

My credentials to celebrate Father's Day! Andrew and Naomi in New York last month

I’m opening this weekend’s blog entry with a simple riddle. Here it is: Today (Sunday) will be my 30th Father’s day as a dad. However, our oldest child, Andrew, is just 28 years old. That should be enough information. You do the math and figure it out.

(I’ll either post the answer at the end of the blog, or maybe I’ll make you email me for it…? Hmmm, what to do? OK, here you go. Post your solution to this riddle as a “comment”, then we’ll see who gets it first.)

Being a dad has been (and continues to be) the most amazing journey. I believe it’s accurate to say the simple fact of children has accentuated/exacerbated pretty much every other experience in my life and – essentially – multiplied the rest of the story to the power of amazing.

• It’s like adding jalapeno peppers to an otherwise fairly tame recipe…
• or spiking the egg-nog…
• or putting rocket fuel in your lawnmower…
• or  switching out the mini-van engine with a race-car motor…
• or exchanging a ten-minute family slide show for a full-length family featured movie directed by Spielberg…
• or having The Stones sit in with the church choir…
• or planning to remodel the back porch, but the guy from Extreme Home Makeover shows up – with a bulldozer and 100 construction workers….

Yeah, that’s it. I think I’ve nailed it! Life before children was like, “I think we’ll paint the walls and maybe re-do some of the screening…” Then the first Father’s Day comes along and – after that – it’s all, “Get out of the way, people, we’re demolishing your entire life and we’ll be building you a new one.”

It’s the same life, essentially; it’s just the same life but now it’s life-on-steroids; it’s a “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” that lasts a good two decades before it settles down some; and then it’s still radical, but all wonderful and grateful and laced with grandchildren (or soon will be) and… yeah, that’s it.

My dad at brunch Saturday

So anyway, I drove down to Ellenton yesterday to take my dad and my brother Geoff out for brunch. (Mum and Dad are usually in the UK this time of the year, so it’s the first time in I don’t know how long we’ve done this together – it was a real treat.) And I thought about how you can be 82 years old (and eleven months minus a few days, but who’s counting…) and still be a dad, and still love your kids because the wonder of that relationship will never change.

And I felt profoundly grateful for the gift of a dad who I can talk with, and who can have brunch with me at 83-(ish); and I really, really wished that my children could have been there too.

My dad has been a dad more than 57 years now. My brother, Geoff and I sure have added some jalapenos to his salad (and some rocket fuel to his lawnmower… and some Rolling Stones to his church choir…)!

Love you, Dad – DEREK

Miss you, Andrew & Naomi – DAD(DY)

Geoff, Mum (Grace), Dad (David), Derek

Monday afternoon my brother I got together with my Mum, my Dad, and my brother, Geoff for a cup of tea at their home in Sarasota. Here’s the image I captured – not a bad-looking crew for a cumulative 274!

We decided on meeting for tea because, first of all, we can – and that fact alone is worth celebrating. But the other purpose was to sit down together and talk about the latest challenge that has come our way as a family. It’s important that we all have the same information, that we’re all reading from the same page, and that we begin this particular chapter in the context of mutual love, support and prayer.

I’ve written about cancer before. A few years ago Geoff had to deal with a very aggressive prostate malignancy; then – in early 2010 – my cousin Linda passed away in her mid-forties. Well, the conversation is back front and center again because Geoff’s liver cancer has progressed to a point where getting a transplant is no longer a possibility. There never are a lot of good options when it comes to liver cancer, so crossing this particular threshold is a difficult place to be.

But make no mistake, this is still very much a post about the life-charged life. Because there are always two distinct options when it comes to facing tough times.

• There’s defeat – something that can also be disguised as despair…
• Or there’s the sure victory of the life that is not restricted in scope by the principles of mortality and decay. You’ve gotta love the way Paul talks about this in 1 Corinthians 15: “For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality….”

Good stuff for sure. But what has really been on my mind is the following passage from First Timothy 6: “But you, man of God… pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses.”

Rebekah preached on this text a couple of Sundays back. “I took a look at the Greek,” she said, “and I think the best translation in terms of today’s language is not ‘fight the good fight,’ but ‘struggle the good struggle.’”

The life that is good is often best understood in terms of ongoing struggle. Struggling is what we do when we’re faced with the reality of challenge. Life is all about challenge, both in the best of times and the not so good. If our experience was always a walk in the park, then it probably wouldn’t be the life-charged life.

• We struggled with our children during those times when they were teens and things didn’t always go well…
• Rebekah and I struggled when our marriage was in a tough place…
• We have both struggled to make the most of our opportunities, to resist negative influences, to transcend the limitations of culture and stereotype, to live well and to live the Good News out loud…
• When Jacob struggled with God at Peniel (Genesis 32) it was symbolic of life that is thoroughly engaged, that doesn’t avoid the tough challenges,that is anxious to live to capacity.

Struggle the good struggle: That’s the way I see our family dealing with what’s next. This is a struggle, yes, but it’s still life and it’s still charged with light and goodness and peace and the Gospel of Love.

We are clothed with the imperishable. We know the end of the story. It’s going to be Okay….

If you’re reading this, your prayers would be appreciated.

Peace – DEREK

Andrew at Tampa International this week

Well, Andrew should be back in his little Tuscan village by now. We dropped him off at the airport for his Tampa – Philadelphia – Frankfurt – Florence trek Saturday afternoon. It really was great to have him home for a few days.

I’ve been thinking about why it is that children add such an undeniable charge to life. And not just young children – like the crowd of animated small-fry who bring such joy to our church community – but our own personal children, even when they’re 26 and 28 years old.

I believe it has a lot to do with what we have invested in them; especially the love. We love our children so fiercely and with such abandon and for so many years, and that principal not only remains, it compounds over time.

That’s why it is just about impossible to let them go. Even parents who have experienced nothing but heartbreak draw life and strength from their offspring. I mean, it’s all right there, poured into them, the residue of our best hopes and our brightest dreams.

Andrew and Naomi carry around a portion of my life in them, and Rebekah’s.

There was a time, when Naomi was barely three years old, that she spent five days in the hospital for serious abdominal surgery. I remember watching her in the children’s wing at Sacred Heart, various tubes and monitors sticking out of her tiny body, and wanting to trade places with her if it would only take her pain away. If we could have taken the life force from our own bodies and shoveled it into hers we would have…

… But we did in a way. And what I’m talking about – life/love/light – is not the least bit finite at all. The more of it we shared with Naomi, and Andrew, the more we had for ourselves and consequently the more to give them in the future.

That’s what I could see in Andrew this week; it was life personified, the sense of purpose and total engagement in living that characterizes the redeemed soul. Andrew has it in spades.

THE KEY: I think the key element in this charged-life equation is the giving away part. Jesus talked all the time about concepts such as finding our life by losing it, being a leader by serving, going to the back of the line if we want to be first, adding value by giving ourselves away. The more we pour ourselves into other people, then the more we seem to have to pour into other people.

It’s kind of a reverse pyramid scheme. In the classic con, the people at the top – typically only a very few – make a pile of money from new “investments” coming from those further down the line. Advancement is always grabbed at the expense of others. It’s a system predicated on the tenacity and replicability of greed.

The life-charged life is entirely opposite. We give ourselves away, with no expectation of anything in return, yet we become immeasurably rich.  Jesus put it this way in John’s account of his ministry: “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:13-14).

I am so thankful my children understand what life really is, and that they have also learned to give it away. So long as they do, they’re never going to be thirsty.

- DEREK

Jared, Seth, Sarah

Rebekah – my awesome wife – is the middle child of five siblings.

• Roy – the firstborn – lives in North Carolina with his wife, Lynda, an accomplished church music director.
• Next comes Rachel, a high-school English teacher who has been moored at Virginia Beach for three decades with her Navy commander (retired but still doing Navy stuff) husband, Tom. They have three children in their 20′s.
• Rebekah came along as #3. Her parents prayed that “This one will be the preacher in the family” and had “John Calvin Alexander” picked out for a name. They said, “Never mind” when the baby was born a girl. I’m guessing God got a big chuckle out of that one.
• After Rebekah, along came Joe. Joe – the original “Joe the plumber” – lives in Orlando with his wife, Cheryl, and their teenaged daughter.
• Eventually, Rebekah’s parents finally figured things out and came up with Jesse. Jesse, another Presbyterian pastor, lives in the Jacksonville area with his wife, Heather. Jesse and Heather have four kids, 8-16.

Jordan, Andrew, Lindsey

It’s nearly impossible to get all five together at one time (we’re making a run at it in July), but we do manage to pull off a “three-fer” with the Florida sibs at “Joe’s Pool and Grill” in Orlando several times a year. So having Andrew home around Memorial Day served up the perfect excuse to throw some chicken on the barbie, sit in the screened porch and watch the younger children splash around while the rest of us shared what’s going on in our hearts and minds.

What came through loud and clear for me this time (and it’s an especially poignant observation in the context of “the life-charged life”) is the fact that life is difficult, challenging, overwhelming at times, full with various struggles and quite often a heavy load to bear…

…But, and this is a critically important point, life is – at the same time – beautiful and good.

I wish it were different, sometimes, I really do. I wish that people didn’t have to deal with chronic, debilitating disease. I wish that everyone enjoyed fun jobs with supportive work environments. I wish that leaders in all churches treated their pastors and music directors with Christlike grace. I wish that life was always one continuous Irish blessing for all the people we love… You know: May the road rise to meet you; may the wind blow at your back; may the sun shine warm on your face. May the rain fall soft upon your fields….

But, rich and full though life is, a great deal of our day-to-day experience simply won’t fit in the vision of Shangri-La. And that’s where the balance of the Irish blessing comes in… And until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand….

Duncan Alexander

Which is why I said that life is, at the same time, beautiful and good. Because there is always such a rich sense of God’s faithfulness at these family gatherings. We know we are loved, and that we love one another; but we also know most profoundly how securely we rest in the palm of God’s hand.

It’s like John DeBevoise said when he preached our big 50th church anniversary party last week – and he was quoting Rebekah’s dad, Bob, when he said it. “It’s critically important that we know who we are, and that we know whose we are.”

And we are blessed children of God, bottom line. And none of us doubt that great truth for a heartbeat. “See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” (1 John 3:1)

Alexanders know they belong to God. True for the Mauls too. Great is thy faithfulness, O God our father. Morning by morning new mercies we see. Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow. Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.

I’m thinking maybe it’s time already for another cook out - DEREK

Check this slideshow to see a few of the blessings…

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