Notes from the Journey: An Author's Life

Soul Mates & Sopaipillas

2011-09-16T11:31:00.001-07:00

A mellow evening welcomes us as the sun sets slowly over the Sandia Mountains. We're winding our way through Old Town Albuquerque toward one of our favorite restaurants, Monica's El Portal. We're in search of some delicious oxymoronic food: Old New Mexican.

The byway is busy with peds like us: The chatter of children is everywhere, mostly in Spanish. We window-shop --- pottery and beads, turquoise and silver, images and icons. Hand-crafted by artisans and reasonably priced; our slender sales resistance weakens and wanes. Eventually we reach Monica's, seat ourselves by a window with lace curtains, and wait for our first basket of fresh chips. You can have any salsa you'd like, as long as it's Monica's. It's hot, about an 8 on a fire scale of 10, yet you can still taste the delicate edge of cilantro.

We nosh on chips and salsa (complementary), carne adovado (a house specialty), frijoles refritos (crispy out, soft in), and sopaipillas (five of them, all complementary, perched next to a squeeze bottle of honey). Our total indulgence, including tip, will run about $20 this evening. We'll be sated and stuffed as we wander back through Old Town after dinner.

Soul-mates. That's what we are this evening, as a perfect fall day in New Mexico yields gradually to the risen moon. Sharply outlined peaks tower over us. The chatter of children has moved indoors, now joined by the clink of dinner dishes. We are lazy and well-fed with no schedule to keep, thirty years together and much in love. Why did we approach our grandparenting years before figuring out life/work balance? Are we slow learners?

We have another book releasing soon, "The Soul-Mate Marriage," and we'll be busy promoting it, traveling to speak and work, but that is for another day. Tonight we are merely soul-mates, not authors or speakers. Tonight we are full up on sopaipillas, carbed out on comfort food and feelin' no pain. Nondescript and anonymous, we are just two more tourists here.

But tonight, if we could be anywhere on earth, it would be just down the street from Monica's El Portal, talking softly and walking side-by-side through Old Town. We linger, savor, sample, stop, celebrate. Far up above --- la luna, semi-circular and self-satisfied, whispers to us and we can almost hear it.

Goodnight, moon.

(This encore edition post originally published in October, 2008.)

400 Weddings & My Funeral

2011-09-08T16:57:00.000-07:00

After I die, someone will discover among my personal effects this item: a small wooden plaque with a brass plate. The plaque congratulates “Dave & Lisa Frisbie” for exploring all 65 Minnesota State Parks. My wife and I earned that plaque over a ten year time span from 1990 to 2000, purchasing a passport from the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources, then having that passport stamped and validated as we camped and hiked our way through Minnesota’s state park system.

We loved that process, and along the way we earned patches, badges and I believe also a baseball cap. The culmination (if you explored every single state park) was the aforementioned plaque. That plaque doesn’t matter to any living persons except Lisa and I --- for us, it has a value that is beyond priceless. Instantly, that little plaque reminds us of our lakeside campsite at Father Hennepin, our hikes along the shores of Lake Superior, and an early August snowfall as we tent-camped near Fergus Falls. That little wooden plaque on the wall holds a decade of happy memories for us: We love camping!

The plaque represents a milestone in our lives together. In much the same way, we celebrated a major milestone recently as I performed my 400^th wedding. Far from being “just a number” every wedding I’ve shared in has been designed as uniquely personal, about the bride and the groom, never a generic or standard service. Each wedding has been personalized and meaningful --- at least to us! And for us, reaching 400 weddings is a milestone we treasure.

The bride in this milestone was Abigail Stranz, radiant and beautiful on the day of her wedding. (See photo above left.) I had the privilege of preaching the wedding of Abigail’s parents, Barry and Pam, back in 1983. At that time I was not yet ordained and could not yet legally sign a marriage license. But apparently Barry and Pam thought I could preach: they asked me to do so. They sang to each other, someone else signed the license, and I crafted the best sermon I could think of (literally).

This I did again for Wedding Number 400 --- and every wedding I’ve ever done. I’m sure there are busy little wedding chapels in Las Vegas that do 400 weddings on a summer weekend --- but for me, it’s taken a lifetime of learning and sharing, listening and counseling, speaking and teaching. And although I can’t claim to remember every single detail of every wedding experience, I certainly remember the brides and the grooms and the parents and the relatives and many of the friends. People matter.

Since weddings tend to involve people, weddings end up mattering too. I loved doing Wedding # 400 and the next few are already getting scheduled. If I die before Wedding Number 401, no worries. You can make me a little plaque for my gravesite which reads “He performed 400 weddings” and no one will read it or care, but thank you anyway. Or if you prefer, you can put the following on my tombstone, after you cremate my remains. You can just put “He was my friend.” It will be a true statement.

Season's End: The Promise of New Beginnings

2011-08-21T20:09:00.000-07:00

Winter whispers in the late summer wind, even in Southern California. The cool breeze chases teens into hoodies, adults into jackets, swimmers into street clothes. Summer is winding down; we are moving toward a season's end.

Farewell whispers in the late Sunday afternoon, even on Mission Bay. Nostalgia chases teens into chatter, adults into cherished memories, parents into quiet tears. Child-raising is winding down; we are moving toward a season's end.

Frank brings barbecue and waits patiently for a new heart. Melvin brings a devotional message, reminding us all that better days are ahead. Sam mixes bass and percussion while he sings and strums, solos and syncopates. Pat mixes with her guests, orchestrates a sumptuous feast, and charms us all.

Analicia -- she of the soon departure -- is at the center of it. Such a rare vocal talent. The same crystal quality of voice that graces Norah Jones, Sara Groves, or Corinne Bailey Rae. Fluid and resonant and ever more confident, relaxed into the rhythms of her father's smooth and professional arrangements.

Analicia -- she of the plays and musicals -- is at the center of it. Such an accomplished actress. Capable of stealing the show or nailing a supporting role. She moves on to Westmont to pursue drama and music; the Designer's good purposes are evident in her.

A season is winding down but for now: What a concert! Passers-by -- arrested by the voice and the confidence and the grace and the band -- stop and listen, frozen on the spot. Strollers wheel to a stop. Conversations cease. The dog can be walked later. Crown Point is not often a venue for concerts of this caliber.

We gather as friends and family, neighbors and supporters, an intergenerational and multicultural mix of people that feels more like heaven than earth. Smiles and songs, beans and rice, hot links and cold drinks. Those who were strangers five minutes ago are connecting at a deep heart level. Children run in and out, laughing out loud.

Gradually the sun arcs lower; the wind's whisper seems more insistent. Across the park, the bay sparkles quietly. For Sam and Pat, a labor of love is ending -- their work of raising Analicia is nearly done. Now comes a new season -- an empty nest, visits to campus, a transition from parents to mentors to friends.

These two will make the adjustments with wisdom and strength. Over time they will realize a central truth: They have raised their daughter well. Her talent, her gifts, her heart for God, her heart for others --- these and other qualities were nourished and nurtured and taught and transmitted by two people whose work may be mostly done, but whose influence will endure and thrive.

To Sam and Pat: Well done. To Analicia: We love you and we are proud of you! May your future pathways be illuminated by God's light, God's love, God's truth, God's purposes. The way ahead may seem unknown --- but when you get to the future, you'll find that God is already there.

A Great Morning: Right from the Start

2011-07-19T06:27:00.000-07:00

Deep into a summer book tour for "Right from the Start," we awaken in the Midwest, only 2 blocks from a Chick-Fil-A. Rising early, we stroll to our favorite breakfast locale.

We recite our usual orders while the cashier peers at us, scanning us closely. This is unusual: We're a romantic, low-key couple, generally considered non-threatening.

With our order taken, the counter person looks at us and shyly poses a question: "Um....aren't you the Frisbies?"

Busted! Only one of us (cute, female) has showered and dressed for this occasion. The other one (male, taller) has been writing for several hours early this morning. He has not yet showered, not yet shaved, and had no intention of "going out in public." Just walking a few blocks to a remote Chick-Fil-A in the random Midwest.

The cashier awaits our response.

Lisa smiles brightly: "Yes, we are!"

"I knew it!" the cashier beams. She goes on to tell us about a book-signing we did in this city, two years earlier, at a Mardel store. She tells us which book she purchased and she explains how God is using the book to change her life. It's clear that she has interacted with the book's content: She quotes it (us) accurately.

We stand across the counter, amazed by God and His good work. We have no immediate response to this conversation, just shock and awe.

Then the cashier, who is also a manager, smiles and comps our breakfast.

There is pretty much nothing in the world that is better than a Chick-Fil-A breakfast burrito (chicken). Except maybe a breakfast burrito that is free!

Better still: The joy of encountering a reader -- someone whose life is being impacted by God-breathed words that an author or artist helped to create. A reader who took the time to attend a book-signing, took home a book, and then began to read it with an open heart and an inquiring mind.

Two authors begin a random day in the midwest.

God shows up.

"Hi David & Lisa," God seems to say to us.

"Today, breakfast is on Me..."

The 4-Dollar Banquet: Love Within Limits

2011-02-14T06:55:00.000-08:00

Do you love her more if you spend $2 million on the bling, or if you drop a quarter in the machine next to the gumballs, and the ring is plastic? Which says “I love you” the loudest?

See – you already know this.

Today is Over-Hyped Day, a holiday that screams “spend money and prove your love.” Perfect day to be rich, so that your emotions really count. As if.

So if you love like Rodeo Drive, but live like the Taco Bell value menu -- a few tips for today, gentlemen:

1) The $4 banquet. This works at Panera Bread, but you can improvise at Caribou or Starbucks or that great little no-name coffee place you both love. Here’s the menu: Two (2) muffies (sliced-off muffin tops), Two (2) waters (not artesian or artisan, just agua), One (1) coffee to share, and a table by the fireplace or over there in the corner. Limited PDA is way okay, but please save the fireworks for after you get a room.

2) The $2 truffle. Many women love chocolate, but don’t want to wear an entire box on their hips or waistline. A single indulgence is better. Most malls have a vendor that will sell you an amazing chocolate truffle (so many flavors, so many choices!) for around $2. Look for a candy store or a chocolate factory and if truffles don’t do it, why not a cupcake? They’re everywhere.

3) The free foot rub. Choose your moment, and rub it like you mean it. Chill dude, and let her decide whether it’s foreplay or not. Not everything has to be foreplay, unless you want even more diaper bags around the house? Besides, the best foreplay pays off days later, not just right this minute. Romance is a marathon, not a sprint.

People who spend large sums of money are often over-compensating for something. Or maybe they’re just stinking rich, God bless them.

If you’ve just had an amazing year, income-wise, and you want to bling her out --- please do. But if you’re between opportunities or currently under-employed, no worries. Get off the computer and answer the real call of duty, okay?

Elevator Music

2011-01-13T06:12:00.000-08:00

Both of us grew up in musical homes, surrounded by classical masterpieces, timeless hymns and occasional bursts of jazz. Both of us learned the value of music at an early age -- thanks to parents who enrolled us in weekly piano lessons without our consent! :)

Today music is essential to our life together -- woven tightly into fabric of our daily lives. Right now we're listening to James Taylor and Carole King, in their recent concert at the Troubadour up in Los Angeles, from the CD/DVD combo of the concert. These two make beautiful music together! We're lovin' it.

Meanwhile, here are three valuable music lessons for today:

1) Elevate Your Mood. Music is a powerful mood enhancer, no drugs required. Try a little music therapy the next time you're struggling with seasonal affective disorder (or you're just plain tired of winter). Good music makes life better!

2) Elevate Your Game. Whatever you want to do well --- practice constantly. There is no substitute for practice! Great reputations do not win football games, bring a Carnegie Hall audience to its feet, or sell more books. What succeeds is greatness itself --- and to become great, there is only one pathway. More practice.

3) Elevate Your Friends. Sorry to post you this memo, but life is not about you. All around you today are people who could use a word of encouragement, a short but amusing text message, or an actual phone call. (Tech note: Some cell phones are equipped with voice features. Ask your carrier.) Life is better when you share the journey with others -- focus on serving and helping someone today.

The Seasons of a Great Marriage

2010-10-28T10:37:00.000-07:00

The youngest couple we've met was married almost 70 years. Only death separated them, and then not for long. They're in heaven now, most likely driving a classic car to the malt shop for yet another date night!

These two loved each other and everyone within their GPS area knew about it. Their love was genuine and authentic, fresh and real. You could listen forever and never hear either of them complain about or criticize their life partner. However, you could hear them compliment each other all day long! They never ran out of positive, encouraging things to say about each other.

Well into their 80's and still young in every way, they celebrated their wedding anniversary by going to Alaska. They stayed in a fabulous hotel in Anchorage, charming the staff and other guests with their infectious good humor and deeply romantic relationship. When the hotel found out that it was their 67th wedding anniversary, the General Manager decided to comp their entire stay.

Ray and Wilma Bridges were exceptional people, but the pattern they left behind can be followed by any married couple. Love each other well, speak positively about each other always, keep having new adventures, keep learning new things. This couple never slowed down and never stopped: Death had to catch them on the run! And as believers already realize, even death is temporary.

Autumn is a great season to get outdoors, spend some time together, go on a hike. You don't have to spend money (and who has any?) all you need is the desire to be together and a place to get away. Trample around in a pumpkin patch or wander through an apple orchard. Take a horseback ride or let a tractor pull you on an old-fashioned hayride. Have it your way --- but get it done.

Be the kind of couple that would make Ray & Wilma smile if they saw you....

Sunday @ Steamers

2010-09-19T21:35:00.000-07:00

Steamers Jazz Club is a Fullerton fixture and a staple of the SoCal jazz scene. Today it fills to overflowing; the crowd spills out into the sidewalks and onto the streets. Busy servers fill plates with appetizers and take orders from new arrivals.

Daniel St. Marseille is here to perform -- he's in this place often; he proposed to his wife here a decade or more ago. Today is ostensibly a graduate-level recital for a Cal State Fullerton degree, so Dan has gathered the masters, young and old, for an afternoon of sublime sound and good-natured competition.

A half-dozen pieces, three of them composed by St. Marseille, fill a bustling club with inspired improv: keyboard battles trombone, guitar mocks piano, soprano sax mixes it up with everyone. Tom Hynes on guitar nearly steals the show in the final number; yet every other musician matches his level of excellence, each on his own instrument. Today, Hynes is on fire: He is absolutely ablaze.

For this listener (and from an informal survey of surrounding tables) the sentimental favorite today is "Emily" -- a Johnny Mandel tune sung by Julie Andrews in the title role of 1964's "The Americanization of Emily." Since then Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennett have made it their own, but today it belongs entirely to a lone saxophonist, standing center stage and waving off the band for a bluesy, soulful solo. Not that we don't love improv --- such creative noise, and so much of it! --- but in "Emily" we find today's center (and we can usually locate the melody line too).

The band beautifully deconstructs "Speak Low" early in the set. A Kurt Weill piece composed for musical theater, the song has been covered by almost everyone. Today the original is systematically taken apart, then joyously reassembled in several new ways, by a sax teacher and graduate student, together with his hand-picked cohorts -- each at the top of his (sorry gals, the musicians were male today) game.

A word about these cohorts: The aforementioned Hynes kicks the walls out on guitar. Both Chris Dawson and Ryan Pryor dispense sheer excellence via the keyboard, each in an entirely different form. Pryor is simple, soulful, sardonic --- Dawson swings samba and riffs majestically on 3-piece combo interludes. Roger Shew lays down the bass with masterful authority: Is he the best bass in SoCal? Today's performance argues yes. Joey Sellers takes a trombone where it hasn't gone before (through the roof) and brings the house down in the process. Thomas White caresses the percussion with meticulous consistency: the epitome of cool. And on the final number, Jonathan Rowden riffs an impressive alto sax line as Maestro St. Marseille opts for soprano. The full band, in full voice, closes out "Ka Leo" (a St. Marseille composition) with a playful freedom that displays not only great confidence, but also much purity of form. Yet today, in the final analysis, belongs to the man who gathers all these talents together in one place, for one purpose, then directs their genius into full view. That man, noticeably more relaxed after each amazing piece concludes well, is Dan St. Marseille.

Mr. St. Marseille, you have graduated. You earned a PhD. from this listener and from each of the six or seven tables in every direction nearby. Don the robe and square off the cap: You're the new master!

Keep track of what's happening in this busy jazz venue (http://www.steamersjazz.com/) and keep an eye on the future of composer and musician Dan St. Marseille, plus a rising sax star in Jonathan Rowden, and each other member of today's crew. Live musical performance, much like sessions in the recording studio, is a continuous mix-and-match of players and skills, friends and cohorts, instruments and genres. Today St. Marseilles shows us inventive compositions, impressive arrangements, and bulletproof skills on the sax. All that, plus a knack for surrounding himself with first-rate talent. Sheer genius, and an afternoon well spent.

I Am Dying Like An Angel....

2010-08-26T07:01:00.000-07:00

Exactly one century ago today, Macedonia gave our tired little globe one of its greater gifts. In the village of Skopje, two Albanian parents celebrated the birth of Agnes Gonxha Bojakhiu. How could they have known that this tiny baby would one day become a venerated nun, a helper to many, an example to all...

Today is the 100th anniversary of Mother Teresa's birth. Working at first by herself, then with the help of dedicated others, Mother Teresa began relentlessly caring for "the least of these" --- those who were dying in the back alleys of urban Calcutta. She opened a hospice unit, called Pure Heart, and simply cared for those who were dying, alone and forgotten, too poor to receive help.

One dying man, resting in the arms of this beloved nun, famously told her "I have lived like an animal, but now I am dying like an angel..." His experience was shared by thousands of others who were treated with dignity, receiving genuine love from caregivers motivated only by a desire to serve Christ.

In the name of religion, many mistakes have been made in the past. We can be certain that more mistakes are ahead in the future. Yet set against the backdrop of greed, politics, legalism, self-righteousness --- and other sins of religion --- at times one encounters the true life of faith, being lived simply and honorably.

Mother Teresa's life reminds us of this. Parents giving birth today, 100 years later, may hope their daughter grows up to become a CEO, or their son an electrical engineer. These are noble aspirations to be sure. But what if a parent, cradling a newborn on this day, simply breathed the hope that this new son or daughter would grow up to emulate Mother Teresa, who herself emulated Christ by taking up the basin and the towel, and serving others....

In Loving Memory: Thomas R. Perry

2010-06-09T11:22:00.000-07:00

When a man of integrity passes, his life is celebrated by those who were inspired, mentored and blessed by his example.

Thomas R. Perry of Smithville, Missouri was such a man. All who knew him were immediately aware of his faith in God and his love for his family. Tom's faith and love were authentic and genuine: this man was not fake or phony or fraudulent: He was real.

Tom's passion for aviation led to a long career as an instrument mechanic for Trans World Airlines (later American). His collection of transportation memorabilia led him to found the TWA Museum in Kansas City, where artifacts from flight history are on display.

He was buried with full military honors near his farm in Smithville. Tom served his country during the Korean conflict and was a strong supporter of military families and all those who sacrifice for the cause of freedom.

In the photo at left, Tom is making a batch of his world-famous chili, a staple at family gatherings for three generations. He was quick to laugh, always ready with a story. Tom was noted for finding a new gadget or buying a perfect gag gift for friends.

Tom Perry saw the best in people; consequently he brought out the best in all those who knew him. He is survived by wife Kathleen, three adult children and their spouses, and nine beloved grandchildren. In addition his extended family and his friends remember him with fondness.

All of us who knew Tom are permanently impacted by his life. His faith in God and his love for family remain as a shining example, set before us to lead us in the right directions.

E pili mau na pomaika'i me 'oe

2010-01-11T07:07:00.000-08:00

E pili mau na pomaika'i me 'oe

As the sun slips softly behind the chiseled slopes of Diamond Head, two friends make gentle promises on a Kahala beach.

These two dated in college, yet each eventually married someone else. Nearly five decades later, each having survived the death of their original partner, they hold hands as they quietly form a new union.

A handful of friends stand watch. Former students, current Sunday School class members, a sister. The loving circle offers affirmation and blessings as the early evening sun frolics in frothy waves behind the bridal pair.

E pili mau na pomaika'i me 'oe

Scriptures and praying, pledges and repeating: Troth plighted and pledges made. Is it simply the passing of time that makes these words sweeter, or is it the shared history, all those years ago, when younger hearts could not have foreseen this autumnal blessing?

There are moments when less experienced persons speak these vows, and you find yourself wondering “Do they even understand what they’re promising?” Today, surrounded by the richness of deeply ripened relationships, it is evident that both bride and groom speak words of carefully chosen, deliberately purposed intent.

This is not an accidental union. We are awed by it, a tangible tingling that slips in somehow between the Scriptures and the prayers, the pledging and the plighting.

Perhaps the groom’s former student and the ceremony’s ‘Best Man’ captures it perfectly for all of us as witnesses. “God Hides in Plain Sight,” Dean Nelson suggests. Hand-in-hand on the beach, a small circle of friends is surprised by joy. This evening on the sands of Oahu’s southern shore, the One who loves us is not in hiding. We bow in reverence, welcoming and accepting the Divine embrace.

Holiday Traditions

2009-12-14T04:32:00.001-08:00

For the fifth year in a row, Northwestern Bookstores invited us to Minnesota to do some holiday book-signing events for them. This year they hosted us in three different stores over a brisk December weekend in the Twin Cities.

Setting up on a frosty Saturday morning (see photo) we had no idea what to expect. Yet once again, Minnesotans proved among the friendliest and most supportive people on this little blue planet. Once again we were busy at all three stores, meeting new people and connecting with lifelong friends.

So many blessings! Martin dropping by when we were busy in Woodbury, seeing a crowd at our table. His response? He disappeared briefly, then came back with coffee and muffins for us --- just exactly the boost we needed (caffeine is one of our key food groups) on a long afternoon. Where do such friends come from? Thank you, Martin --- We are unworthy.

Andrea the world-traveler. Off to Brazil for the holidays, but she drove from Minneapolis over to the far side of St. Paul, stopping by our book table to catch up. She's finishing up an M.B.A. --- Watch out, world! Her intellect and energy will bless all her future employers.

Alyssa and Andrew, newly engaged. Correction: Newly betrothed. We tried to discern the difference. Andrew's take on it? "If I was engaged, I could still back out of it. When I'm betrothed, that means I have to follow through and get married. I'm already committed." Their radiant smiles brightened our bookmarks and gladdened our hearts!

Molly with daughter Patty. Molly is one of the smartest and best single moms we've met along our journey. She's building a career in law enforcement and currently applying to join the force in a nearby Minnesota community. Note to that community: HIRE HER. Molly is bright, honest, hard-working, and very wise.

Rachel whose marriage is featured in the intro of our book "The Soul-Mate Marriage." Busy raising two great kids, Rachel got up early on a Saturday morning and drove many miles to see us. We've known her since before the marriage, before the kids, before so much of life.

Our good friend Naomi with two adopted sons, launching a career in social work. Naomi, we are so proud of you! Paul and Pauline, married these many years, looking young and energetic as always. Trent and Melissa, Michael and Alice, Curt and Lori --- all these and more. What a blessing to connect with each one of you. Here's a hint: It's not about the books, it's about continuing our lifelong friendship with you and your families.

Rising well before dawn to meet a looming deadline, there are moments when writing can be a lonely profession. Is anybody out there? Will anyone read these words? After a busy weekend meeting readers old and new, we are refreshed, renewed, encouraged. As long as God gives us breath, we'll do our best to help marriages be stronger, families be healthier, parents be less stressed and more successful.

We'll keep writing --- and we'll keep being grateful when people show up to say thanks. Speaking of thanks --- our thanks to the good people of Northwestern Bookstores for creating such a fun holiday tradition. We are grateful!

From the journey ----- 2 writers.

Enchanted Evening

2009-11-08T06:21:00.000-08:00

Two musicians meet in a freshened sanctuary. He waits at the top of the aisle; she joins him after a quiet procession with Bride’s Dad along a rose-strewn aisle.

Eighteen of their closest friends fan out across the platform in muted greens and classic black. Groom’s Dad sings a blessing from his perch at the piano. A choir from Azusa Pacific University intones a marvelous Eric Whitacre composition.

Ministers minister, vows exchange, a ring surprises.

Will you? We will. And they mean it.

On to Old Towne, where so many Arts+Crafts homes line quiet streets designed a century ago. Out behind the French Estate, Mishavonna will sing – overflowing with the same talent and poise we witnessed so remarkably on American Idol – sans Simon.

The back-lawn buffet group is all smiles, quiet laughter, meaningful toasts. Sliced beef and sauced chicken, poured wine and decanted cider, a towering cake topped by the kneeling Batman and his chosen Belle.

If life is not entirely a journey through the rose petals, at least it can be launched amid mentors and ministers, sisters and fathers, grandparents and aunts, cousins and roommates. Hard times may come, but on this enchanted evening we ward them away with full glasses and plentiful plates.

Jonathan and Rachyl, we are here for you. Not just tonight, but always.

Jazz as the Son Rises

2009-09-28T08:33:00.000-07:00

It's a sultry Sunday evening in downtown Escondido ---84 degrees on the curb; much warmer on stage in front of the footlights. We're at the Metaphor Cafe to catch one of our favorite jazz combos in action. We've been tracking this band for the past several years; they just keep getting better.

We're here in the heat to listen to "A Rae" --- their blend of jazz, fusion, Brazilian samba and Caribbean influences continues to amaze and inspire us. At the band's center is composer and guitarist Sam Hawkins, a gifted arranger who can draw from a classic hymn or a Sara Groves standard and somehow give the song wings.

Speaking of wings, the band is fronted by the voice of angel. Analicia Hawkins, daughter of the group's founder, sings like a blend of Corinne Bailey Rae and a young Norah Jones. Without pride or ostentation, Analicia steps to the microphone and lets the music live/breathe/express itself through her vocal chords.

This is a pure, uplifting, musical experience. Tonight the combo has added a father-and-son team that brings drums and sax to the mix. Woven into Sam Hawkin's tightly scripted arrangements, the sax adds a wonderful counterpoint: keep it coming. Meanwhile the drummer hits the rhythms exactly, carrying the pace with confidence.

Sometimes you're almost afraid to attend a concert, worried that a band you love may let you down, may have an off night, may not be up to the standards you expect. We've been following "A Rae" for several years now --- at coffee houses, jazz venues and even occasionally a church --- and this band simply doesn't disappoint.

For a few hours on a warm Sunday evening, we are carried away. From "Redemption" to "Great is Thy Faithfulness" we are blessed, inspired, encouraged, renewed.

On the Merits of Avoiding Writing...

2009-09-23T08:37:00.000-07:00

Yellowed leaves are cliff-diving off the higher branches today. Enormous peer pressure must be in play: They're all doing it.

Meanwhile the squirrels are on meth. Who cooks it up for them? Where do they find the $40 to make the buy? Somehow every squirrel in this area has gone erratic and irrational --- and at very high speed. Thank God they can't drive.

I am on my patio at the moment, avoiding writing. Surrendered to the serene, I let the canopy of the trees and the chatter of the sparrows and the warmth of the sun carry me off to better places.

Out here there are no words, just wonder.

Well perhaps a few words. Dorothy Parker's poem floats up in my lazy memory: "Summer makes me drowsy, Autumn makes me sing. Winter's pretty lousy, but I hate Spring."

Exactly. Just now summer is reluctantly passing the baton to autumn. So when the clatter of keypad becomes too much to bear, I flee outdoors to learn from Nature. Nature which, with the exception of today's squirrels, is so enormously patient and forgiving.

Outdoors between musings I'm reading a wonderful new book, God Hides in Plain Sight, written by my friend and college cohort, Dean Nelson. Dean tells everyone that I gave him his first job in journalism; it's at least partly true. I was the editor of our university newspaper and I hired Dean to write occasional columns on topics of his choice. Today he's moved on to The New York Times.

Quoting Walter Wangerin, Frederick Buechner, Anne Lamott and others, Dean explores the Christian sacraments and teaches us how to find the holy amidst the seemingly mundane moments of everyday life. Dean has crafted a brilliant book, the kind where you read a paragraph and stop, thinking for a while, and then eventually you go on. Pick up a copy today; you'll be glad you did.

Are you avoiding writing? Choose a wiser way to do so. Learning from Nature, reading a great new book or a classic older one, these are helpful occupations for anyone who loves words. Over time the quality of our output is greatly affected by the virtues of our input. Until someone develops "CSI: Oxford" there may not be much merit to staring at the tube for hours.

Grab a great book like Dean's new one. Run outside and jog your memory. Bundle up your kids or someone else's and take them out for ice cream. Doing any of these things --- while being observant and fully present --- will help to feed your inner writer.

If you're an advanced lifelong slacker, ignore this lame advice. But if you're driven and tend toward perfectionism, if you're borderline OCD and self-critical by default (i.e., if you're a working writer) perhaps right now is an ideal moment to avoid writing --- if you can find a good way to do so.

Slip away outdoors. Curl up with a great book. Feed your soul. At some random unplanned moment in the future, your soul will nourish you in return.

Isn't that exactly what all of us need?

A Wedding in Wisconsin

2009-09-13T18:49:00.001-07:00

The farmhouse perches on a hill; after a steep drop the yard takes a gentle slope to the lake. Gather 200 white chairs, pretty ribbons and bows, a wooden trellis.

Add in aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins, Californians and Kansans, then fly in some friends from Scotland. Mix joyously on a Saturday afternoon and voila! you have a wedding in Wisconsin, sparkling under clear blue skies as ducks practice their landings on the choppy waves. Light the barn for dinner and dancing, feed people well, and watch people celebrate and enjoy.

Hunter and Meghan say "I do" and there are a couple of hundred witnesses, more if you count the ducks. Perfect weather, friendly people, fabulous food. Our host transforms his home and acreage into a picturesque wedding venue, scenic and memorable in every detail. By Saturday at dusk there's a newly married couple strolling barefoot along the grassy shore, smiling and greeting their guests.

After 359 of these (plus 16 renewal-of-vows ceremonies) people ask us if it ever becomes routine? Absolutely never. Each sermon is unique, crafted to the character of the bride and the groom. Each service is memorable, some more than others, most of them for the right reasons.

For Hunter and Meghan, no glitches. No one falls or faints. Even the junior couple has star-power, strolling confidently along the petal-strewn path. They almost steal the show! But we are here for the bride and groom, each lit from within by a genuine and lasting joy. Their love is infectious and spreading.

Now the sun has set, the cake's been cut, and the bridal couple is dancing. The DJ spins Tony Bennett, Boys-2-Men, Michael Buble' and more. Grab your partner and hit the floor; this barn is swinging.

Celebrating 60

2009-09-06T06:11:00.000-07:00

Some people don't just say "I do."

Some people actually do.

Sixty years ago Mom and Dad pledged their lives to each other.

It's a pledge they've kept.

We're celebrating that this weekend, respecting and affirming the power of promises kept. What a legacy!

The happy young couple in yellow, along the right side of the table?

Those are the "newlyweds" who said "I do" sixty years ago. Don't they look great?

Two of Mom's siblings, two of Dad's siblings, spouses, kids, spouses of kids, kids of kids, grandkids --- Mom & Dad began as great parents but now they're great-grandparents.

Mix in a church service, a country club buffet, lunch for all around Mom's table (she insisted) and a couple of dozen family members --- You have all the ingredients for a happy celebration.

Mom & Dad --- Thank you for keeping your promises!

Where It All Began

2009-08-29T17:33:00.000-07:00

This is where it all began.

This small, interfaith chapel is where we said "I do" on a sunny Sunday morning in May, surrounded by family and friends. Today, 31 years later, we stop by.

We're on our way to another celebration, a friend's graduation open house, but we take a scenic detour just to have the privilege of visiting our wedding place. Can we find it again? Will we remember the way? We don't live around here: We haven't for years.

Yet we round a corner, curve down a hill, and turn right into the campgrounds. There, nestled along the scenic shoreline of Lake Koronis, we find the chapel ---unchanged, open, welcoming and serene.

We stroll in, hand in hand, not quite believing it's been 31 years since we walked through these doors. 31 years since David's sister rang the bell as the ceremony concluded and the party began. 31 years.

31 years and the trees are taller, yet in a surreal twist the chapel is exactly the same: same furnishings, same decor, same details. We walk in the door to see everything just as it was that day, except for the smiling faces.

That day a young couple stood here, recited their own vows, and began their new life together filled with hope for the future. They're more in love now than then, closer together now than during the ceremony, but who could have known what time would bring?

If we could talk to that couple today, what would we tell them? Would we reveal their future, or simply let them wait and find out? What would we whisper in their ears as they exit the chapel and begin the first day of their married lives?

Maybe we'd borrow from a song: "Don't worry. Be happy!"

Maybe we'd tell them that God is absolutely trustworthy. All the time.

Maybe we'd tell them their material dreams were probably not going to come true,
but their dreams in every other category would be not only met but exceeded.

Maybe we'd tell them....oh, never mind. They didn't know any of these things that spring morning. They just knew they loved God and they loved each other. They just knew their parents and family members and friends were cheering for them and praying for them.

Maybe we wouldn't tell them anything at all. Maybe we'd just let them discover life one day at a time, finding a God who can be trusted, a future that doesn't need worrying about, and dreams that become reality within God's perfect timing.

Maybe we wouldn't reveal their future to them at all.

Maybe we'd just breathe a prayer of thanks, smile at their youthful joy, and be glad that we're farther along by now, a little less ignorant and a little more hopeful. Maybe we'd just watch them walk by, admiring them from a distance. Maybe we'd laugh with joy and let it go at that.

Today, quiet in the embrace of the same chapel, we say a prayer of thanksgiving and gratitude.
It's been an amazing journey, and God has authored it every step of the way.

Facebook or Face Time ?

2009-08-01T05:06:00.000-07:00

So the wedding is finally over and eventually you'll write those "thank-you" notes. You're back from your honeymoon, looking forward to a life of romance, intimacy, and deep friendship.

Should happen, right?

But both of you are working, life is busy, and before you know it --- you look and sound like some of the 'old married couples' you know. So how did you up HERE???

We work with 20-something married couples all the time; here's what you need to know.

Would you believe a 20-something married guy spends HOURS a day playing on-line video games, but MINUTES a day in meaningful, engaging conversation with his wife?

Would you believe a 20-something married gal spends HOURS a day updating her Facebook page and connecting with MySpace friends, yet only MINUTES a day in face time with her guy?

Hey, maybe that's not the pathway to true intimacy.

Remember those long walks, coffee dates, and hours spent talking on the phone? You were madly in love and it showed --- EVERYONE noticed.

Hey, it's time to get back to the future.

Send each other silly text messages while you're at work.

Buy each other small gifts for no reason, without waiting for a special occasion.

Do a chore around the house --- because it's there, not because someone asked.

Find your partner's laptop and sit there.

I Love You Today (Forever)

2009-06-11T17:19:00.000-07:00

I fell in love with Lisa on July 25, 1975 --- and every day since then.

I was 18 years old when I met an 18-year-old who is now my wife. I was impressed: Amazing smile, quick laugh, cute face, very pleasing shape. That was enough to get my attention, but it was her Christian character and her high intelligence that made me keep coming back.

I fell in love with her on July 25, 1975 --- and today --- and every one of the hundreds of days in between. I love her today (forever).

We spent several hours tonight counseling another married couple, also in ministry, both needing some healing after a bad experience in a church. The stress of that toxic, unhealthy congregation has taken its toll on this marriage. Yet as we peel back the layers, stripping away the surface hurts and recent arguments --- the core of their relationship is solid and strong.

Love is a choice, not a feeling.

Has it really been three decades since the two of us, attending the same college, began to realize we shared the same values, dreamed the same dreams, and even grew up in similar families? Both of us grew up reading, our noses buried in books, emptying out the library for the trip home.

Three decades later, books that we've written are in the U.S. Library of Congress, and at our local WalMart store, and staring at us (just tonight) from the shelves of our neighborhood Barnes & Noble. Who knew, all those years ago, that two 18-year-old wannabe writers --- would end up writing?

We're still going the same direction, hand in hand, still moving forward.

We've watched a lot of our friends split up across these years. He found someone 'more interesting.' She found someone who would really listen. Both of them moved on to other relationships and began new families. How did we miss alll that trauma? How did we stay together?

I love her today (forever).

Marriage is a daily choice, a fresh decision each morning. Marriage is dying to self, honoring your partner, putting someone else's needs and wants ahead of your own. Time to become a doormat? Not ever. But definitely time to offer and serve, help and hold, support and encourage. Guess what: Life is definitely not about 'me' --- it's more about 'u' and 'us.'

Every day is today (forever).

All those years ago, did I realize that love would cost me this much, require this much, yet somehow be so valuable? No. I just knew it was real, and worth giving up my freedom for. It was, so I did.

Three decades later life is richer and more fulfilling than my most extravagant ideas. The marriage of my dreams? It's the one I'm living in today, right now --- a summer evening spent counseling others and then driving home together, counting our blessings.

We are crazy in love, or maybe just crazy.

We can't wait to get home tonight, and luckily for us there is absolutely nothing to watch on cable. We call that a perfect evening...

Happy Trails

2009-05-07T04:45:00.000-07:00

Today is our 31st anniversary; both impossible and surreal. We’ve been married for 5 or 10 minutes, maybe 5 or 10 months? We are still on our first honeymoon.

31 years? Random. But so far God has taken us to 50 US states, 9 provinces and 2 territories of Canada (territories are provinces by another name, eh?), and 42 nations of the world.

31 years? Unlikely. But so far God has granted us 10 published books; we just learned that Book #11 has been approved by the editorial team at Harvest House. Let’s get writing!

31 years? Survivors. So many of our friends have loved and lost, experiencing brokenness in their marriages. We are ordinary people – no different, no better – blessed to have somehow escaped the trauma of a fractured family.

31 years? Workers. Everyone wants to know if we’re taking a cruise or jetting off to Europe. Not exactly. We’re both working today, blessed to be employed in a global economic meltdown. Four words of advice for aspiring writers: Keep your day jobs.

Today is our 31st anniversary; we had planned a nice dinner but a pastoral couple has asked for our help. Instead of dining out by candlelight, we’ll gather for 90 minutes of counseling others; helping a pastoral marriage heal, recover, and grow.

Happy Trails. Although it’s always nice to come home, the truth for us is that home is a suitcase, a new destination, making new friends and visiting old ones, getting video e-mail from grandkids and just being together. Home is being together.

We wish you many happy trails in the days ahead.

Ian Campbell: REMEMBERED

2009-04-01T18:17:00.000-07:00

A browning leaf, curled against the last breath of winter, flutters at the end of a barren branch. Beneath the same oak a patch of snow hides in the shade of the trunk, fearing the sun. Spring is on its way to New Hampshire, but the landscape is wary.

Our bus bounces across the bridge spanning the Merrimack River. A baker’s dozen of us are sprawled out inside a bus-turned-limo, laughing and remembering and telling stories. Twelve Campbells plus one tall outsider, joined for this evening in tribute to Ian: husband and father, son and brother, uncle and friend.

Laughter is the best medicine. Daughter Heather tells a barnyard story --- she’s attacked by a rooster but saved by Dad. Ian’s broomstick revenge on the rooster has us laughing out loud --- and when Heather tells this same story later tonight over at Shiloh Christian Fellowship in the midst of the tribute to Ian --- the crowd roars in response. We need the healing power of laughter right now: Heather, you’ve given us a priceless gift.

Son Michael runs the family business. Grace Limousine, within whose bus we are chauffeured to the church, is an ongoing success story. Ian built this business from dream to reality, from no fleet to a gleaming group of new Lincoln Town cars and other specialty vehicles. We are riding in style tonight. The pastor and many friends will greet us as we step out of our limo. Although it’s an hour before the service time, the community is already gathering to honor a favorite son.

From memorable moments among many: these few.

Marines unfurl a flag while a lone bugle calls us to attention. Then ever so slowly and with infinite precision, the color guard folds the flag and hands it to the widow of a United States Marine. It is, in an evening of meaningful tributes, a highlight that all 600-plus of us will remember forever. Solemn, dignified, and respectful.

Ian’s son grabs a guitar and approaches the microphone. With Collin are his mother Annie plus brother Mike and sister Shawna. Collin Campbell, musical heir to his parents’ many gifts, leads us in worship and praise as we pay tribute to his dad. Collin’s voice, clear and strong and beautiful, carries the harmonious group through Agnus Dei. “I didn’t know Collin could sing so well,” say many who attend. Back home in Tulsa there are 800 people who already knew that: Collin leads them in worship every Sunday.

Joseph clings to his grandfather, a noble Scotsman who is burying his son with dignity and with great courage. Isaac cares for his mother, checking to see if she needs anything. Son Jeff has brought his own sons, red-haired Scots with the full family DNA; Jeff’s joyous and active boys remind us of the cycle of life.

Shawna and others have prepared a wonderful slide show. Photo after photo shows us Ian as we love him: child, Marine, young wedded husband, doting dad. The birth of each child is celebrated and honored in pictures. The 25th anniversary of Ian and Annie is noted with photographs. One by one the images show us Ian surrounded by his adoring and grateful family.

This evening will end, as all such evenings must, yet the family lingers late and long, receiving each guest with great grace. They are tired, these Campbells, tired after days of watching Ian pass into eternity. But there is no hint of tiredness in their eyes or their words tonight: They are making sure that each guest gets their full attention. Annie, in particular, blesses the multitudes.

Eventually the limo will go home, back toward the house that Ian built, out in the country in Goffs Town. The house will be a little quieter, a little sadder, a bit subdued. Yet somehow everyone in that house knows that Ian has gone to his true home --- and that one day, we know not when, he will welcome us to join him.

Manchester is dark now. Little orbs of light flicker here and there against the ebony hillsides. We ride mostly in silence, watching the flames dance in the video fireplaces of the limo.

There could be no better tribute in all the world than the one Ian has received on this night. His bride, his children, his father, his family and his friends have gathered to remember him. They have gathered to honor his life and to affirm his long walk with God. Then when all is said and done, Ian’s bride and his children turn out the lights and go home, taking Ian’s example and witness with them always.

Ian, you are in our hearts forever.

Looking Up and Looking Around: From Psalm 33

2009-03-27T10:13:00.000-07:00

Have you ever tried to picture what it was like when God created the world? I see God in worn and faded overalls, down on His knees in the dirt, prodding the soil with a hand shovel and shaping creation with His fingers.

I love gardening: I assume I get that from my Father.

Meanwhile the Psalmist explains creation differently. “By the word of the Lord” --- the stars and heavens were created, reports the Psalmist. So God was not shaping matter with His hands; instead He was literally speaking creation into being. (Psalm 33:6)

God breathed; God spoke. In the moment of His speaking, God’s Divine words tumbled out into empty space and the stars were born. Planets began their orbit and the energy of matter began spreading out in a beautiful array, in all directions.

I’ve heard a lot of explanations for creation. Big bang. Matter colliding with anti-matter until (luckily for us) there was no anti-matter left. Then matter colliding with matter until an azalea bloomed, a fish swam and an elephant bellowed.

Instead of placing my faith in explosions (exactly what blew up, and what made it blow up, and how did it get there to blow up?) I am more than content to picture a Creative God breathing and speaking. From the words of Moses to the words of David to the words of Jesus I am content to believe in my Creator and my Lord.

Lessons from Woody

2009-02-26T15:44:00.001-08:00

We knew we couldn't keep him forever, but we held on as long as we possibly could. Our good friend and writing mentor, Dr. Sherwood Wirt, has finally departed our San Diego Christian Writers Guild (which he founded) in favor of a higher calling.

Woody Wirt was our friend (here's Woody at 93, with David, attending and teaching at the guild's annual fall conference in Rancho Bernardo) and our mentor in writing and life. We learned so much from his wise example!

Woody taught us humility. He authored 42 books in his lifetime, and was working on book #43 when he passed away. We've seen the notes; that next book would be wonderful just like his others. Our favorite from the entire group? His translation of St. Augustine's "Confessions" which is titled "Love Song." Although the book is out of print, find it where you can and simply enjoy. Augustine's prose may have been beautiful; Woody's is gorgeous. Yet despite all his success in publishing, Woody was approachable and humble, patient with beginners, never condescending or proud.

Woody taught us intellectual curiosity. At age 97, even just before his death, Woody was learning -- learning -- learning. He was always learning! Woody was the last journalist to interview C.S. Lewis before Lewis died; out of those notes Woody wrote articles and taught courses about Lewis. Woody's wide-ranging intellectual curiosity covered all things Christian, many of the great periods of history, anything about words and writing.

Woody taught us personal integrity. Woody was the pioneering editor of Billy Graham's magazine called "Decision." The magazine grew out of Woody's interviews with Billy Graham and his subsequent involvement in the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association. Woody traveled the world with Graham and his team, always modeling the highest standards of personal character and personal integrity. Billy Graham surrounded himself with men of exceptional talent: Dr. Sherwood Wirt was one of those men!

Woody taught us the virtue of humor. Positive, encouraging, and always filled with zest for life, Woody survived the death of his first wife, whom he deeply loved, and yet kept his love for life. Eventually Woody married again -- he is survived by his wonderful Ruth, who has cared for him with such tender love in Woody's later years. Woody was always quick with a punch line, quick with word play, quick to laugh! Any interaction with Woody involved a great deal of laughter: Woody knew the value of fun.

Ten books and dozens of articles into our rookie season as authors, our lives have been hugely impacted by Woody Wirt's personal example, his wisdom about words, and his extended ministry through our guild. It's hard to imagine writing without Woody -- but we know he's in heaven's library right now, either reading or writing.

Woody, you continue to inspire us!

Light Snow, Good Friends & Caribou Coffee

2008-11-16T05:51:00.000-08:00

Light snow dapples our rented RAV4 this morning; God TP'd our Toyota with his own special blend. Don't worry about us: we'll scrape through this somehow...

We're scraping snow off our frosty hood in the Twin Cities this weekend. It's the world premiere of our new book: The Soul-Mate Marriage: The Spiritual Journey of Becoming One. This book has our voice, our life, our soul in it --- this book is what happens when you work with marriages for 25 years, you pay attention, and you stay awake.

We stay awake with Caribou Coffee, our favorite, available here and in Chicago, plus a few of our most frequent airports. We're lifting a few frothy cocoa mugs this weekend to raise our spirits; we love Caribou! Sadly, Caribou have not roamed in the Pacific Southwest for many years; we lament their absence.

Absent from Minneapolis for so long, we are reminded of what we miss about this frozen forest: Caribou, Byerly's, Target, the Vikings, and fond memories of what once was Dayton's. What's not to love?

Speaking of love: it's these people. We've spent this weekend surrounded by close friends, kids of friends, friends of kids, friends of close friends. Friday night was a blur of handshakes and autographs and camel's breath. (Yes, there was a live petting zoo behind us, and a reptile pit nearby.) Saturday was more of the same, but only after sleepy Scandinavians were awake.

Awake this morning before church, we're dazzled by the sight of snow, counting our blessings that this massive metro area contains so many of the people we most value, cherish and treasure. Our hearts are here; where is Tony Bennett when we need him? We left our hearts in....Minneapolis.

Minneapolis is a multicultural igloo, beautiful and varied, a place where the term 'melting pot' would first be preceded by a long discussion: what the heck is 'melting'? Talk freezing up here: then we know what you mean.

Here's what we mean: we miss this place: not the snow, not the traffic, not the road construction which apparently guarantees permanent employment (it never ends). Just the people. Small and large, all shapes and sizes and races and colors and languages. If we made a gallery of our favorite faces we would frame these! Here are the people we love and here is a culture we understand and celebrate.

Celebrating 30 years of an amazing and God-blessed marriage, we know for sure we aren't worthy of these friends and their families. Yet as winter marches in with relentless Norwegian fury, we're slowly rolling out with our hearts freshly warmed for the season ahead.

Ahead of us: many more roadways. If only we could take the grandkids along, just like we took them to Burger King on Friday -- laughing and joking, pretending to be lost in a neighborhood we served for a dozen of the best years of our lives. If today there are fewer lost kids in that neighborhood, then perhaps those 12 years mattered for eternity.

About eternity: we believe there is a plan for our lives, and we believe we are following that plan. We are not perfect, not always right, sometimes mixed up with our culture and customs instead of authentic faith. But we are, on this frosty Minnesota morning, moving consistently in the direction of what we truly believe: that there is a home for us in eternity, around whose hearth we hope to see all of these faces, plus many more.

From the journey....Dave & Lisa

My Next President

2008-10-13T20:21:00.000-07:00

My next president will be imperfect, like I am. He or she will make mistakes: mistakes of judgment, mistakes of timing, mistakes of direction, and a few random stupid mistakes also. I expect a president to make mistakes: I think it shows character when he or she admits them. All of us make mistakes.

My next president will need my prayers, just like the current one does. Scripture reminds me (and I need the reminder) to pray for those in authority. Our current president, whose term in office began with a terrorist attack on our nation, is closing his term by facing perhaps the greatest global economic challenge of this generation. Prayer helps presidents: prayer helps us all.

My next president will be immediately loved by some people; immediately hated by others. He or she will face an immediate chorus of criticism, sarcasm, political satire, and late-night-talk-show-jokes. If he or she is a person of faith, this criticism will be especially intense and often mean-spirited.

My next president deserves my respect, whether I voted for him or her, or not. The media’s constant criticism of a president has the powerful effect of lowering respect for my leader: I must not only ignore this largely mindless chatter, I must rise above it and realize that anyone who leads a great nation is worthy of my respect, regardless of his or her political views and personal values.

My next president will lead the nation where I was born. He or she will take actions that he or she believes will advance the safety, security, prosperity, and well-being of this nation. Good people can disagree on how best to achieve these goals: my next president will pursue our nation’s advancement.

My next president will have my support. God knows, he or she will need it. Regardless of whether I vote for the person who becomes my next president, when the election is over my president will have my support, my respect, and my prayers. That, as I understand it, is the key to good citizenship.

Raising Great Kids On Your Own

2008-08-15T08:16:00.001-07:00

Are you raising a world champion?

Pictured at left is another great kid who was raised by a single parent. Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps was raised by his mother after his parents divorced. At age 9, unable to pay attention in school, he was diagnosed with symptoms of ADHD.

Let's face it: parenting isn't easy! Especially if you're all alone to raise your children.

Here's the good news: You can raise world-class kids, people who go on to high achievements in sports, medicine, entertainment, government and many other kinds of leadership. We've been learning from successful single parents, literally around the world, about what it takes and how to get there from where you are.

The best of what we've learned from today's successful single parents is right here, in a brand-new book that is just releasing this fall. The title is "Raising Great Kids On Your Own" and it's selling at Barnes & Noble, Borders, Target and in many other stores. You can also purchase it on-line at Amazon through a link along the left side of this blog.

Stressed-out while raising kids on your own?

Worried that your children are disadvantaged?

Your children can go on to achieve greatness, with your help. Just ask Michael Phelp's mom!!

FIREPROOF Your Marriage: Here's How

2008-08-02T10:51:00.000-07:00

This fall our newest book arrives (see cover at left) and we're so blessed to be speaking and teaching in connection with new movie "FireProof."

We've seen "FireProof: The Movie" three times, and it just keeps getting better with each viewing. This fall we're out on the circuit speaking, teaching and training married couples --- as we've done since February 1982.

This new book brings the count to ten --- ten published books, not counting the pile of rejection slips, the two novels, and the amazing PK book that no publisher believes "has any market." It takes a lot of rejection and patience to get 10 books in print.

No whining here: our body of work has now grown to 10 published books from four publishers! God is good.

Seven of our ten books are available for purchase right here on this blog, from boxed links to Amazon's always-open superstore. So sorry Amazon doesn't have our new book's cover posted yet. Coming soon; meanwhile click the link and pre-order the book today!

Thanks for stopping by our blog; thanks for reading this post. Now would you please say a prayer for new movie "FireProof" and also say a prayer for our new book "The Soul-Mate Marriage" --- both of these brand-new resources have been designed to rescue marriages and to help couples find lasting, lifelong, committed relationships.

From the journey ---- David & Lisa

http://www.MarriageStudies.com

Washing Feet

2008-06-10T08:39:00.000-07:00

When I finally finished my homily, the groom grabbed a chair. He brought it under the tent, placed it in front of his bride and offered her a seat. She sat.

He knelt down in front of her, grabbed a basin and a towel, and washed her feet, installing clean white sandals for her (she walked the aisle barefoot as she arrived).

When he was carefully and tenderly done, he took his place on the chair and his bride washed his feet, installing similar clean white sandals for him.

They stood up together, we began the exchange of vows, and the wedding service continued. But from that moment on --- two of us had cleaner feet. And all of us had witnessed a gentle moment in a private relationship between two servant-hearts that were uniting as one.

They leave tomorrow for their honeymoon: they're heading to a third-world country and all of us will be surprised if they don't find ways to serve and minister while there.

Meanwhile, we're just returning from Lanesboro, Minnesota -- Amish Country -- after performing wedding #350 for us. And despite what you might think, after three-hundred-plus weddings, every one of the services has been unique; each homily crafted for each couple, never anything generic.

Even after this many weddings, each one resonates as an individual, identifiable ceremony.

Yes we did a wedding in Switzerland. Stone chapel. No sound system or electricity.

Yes we did a wedding on an island in the Boundary Waters Wilderness Area. No plumbing.

Yes we've done weddings in most of the 50 U.S. states and in many other world areas.

Yes we've done weddings for every sibling within a family circle; but one at a time. :)

Yes we've done a wedding (just one so far!) for someone whose parents we married.

Our wedding march continues. Driving away from the rolling hills of southern Minnesota, we turned off the stereo and just talked. Thirty years together and we still haven't run out of things to talk about, laugh about, and explore for our future.

Heading away from wedding #350 we are moving forward, excited about God's direction for our lives and glad to be following Him, honoring Him, serving Him.

We are definitely imperfect, but we're moving in the right direction....

Stepping into Early Church History

2008-05-23T06:58:00.000-07:00

Moments before this photo was taken, we stood in silence on the stone floor of an ancient chapel; the very spot where the Council of Sardica took place.

Standing on these same stones, the leaders of the emerging church debated doctrine and established the New Testament Canon. Here they affirmed the Nicene Creed, publishing their council proceedings in both Greek and Latin, the languages of the day.

Our visit was limited to 15 minutes; the original site is now an internal (largely unchanged) portion of a functioning Orthodox church in the capital city of Sophia, Bulgaria. Foreigners may visit briefly.

We were in awe; meanwhile bearded and black-robed Orthodox priests stood very nearby, hovering close so that we did not photograph anything or show disrespect for the site. Disrespect? Our response was the opposite.
Many artifacts from the period encircled us. "The rocks cried out."

Constantine was in this city often. Jerome writes of this very council. All of the early histories record the debates and discussions here. Right here: only a few meters from the place of the fountain, above. It was almost too much to assimilate in a quarter-hour; our hearts and minds overflowed.

In a hushed silence we emerged from the cool darkness of the chapel and stood blinking for a few seconds in the bright Bulgarian sunshine. We then walked the perimeter of the church's exterior, thinking about others who also walked here --- pensively wrestling with how to help us avoid error, how to think about questions of matter and spirit, body and soul, eternity.

As contemporary believers we inherit a well-documented faith; a tradition that has been argued, debated, discussed, clarified and re-thought since the very beginning. Seven Councils -- as the Christian community began to emerge in diverse places and languages -- sought a unified understanding of what core Christian belief and practice looked like, sounded like.

It is not inaccurate to say that Christianity has often been divided and at odds with itself in its two millenia of history. It is also not inaccurate to say that at its core, there is or should be agreement on the essential confession by which we proclaim our faith in the Risen Lord. Here in this place, that seminal affirmation was prayerfully and powerfully refined.

We who travel here rejoice; hoping our journey conforms to His own.

The Council of Sardica, one of seven in which the emerging church defined the New Testament Canon, refuted heresies, and decided church policies, was held in the 340's AD, circa AD 347.

Learning to Grow Up

2008-05-05T10:36:00.000-07:00

We tend to view parenting as our chance to mold and shape young lives.
We look at parenting as the task of teaching our children, training them to make wise choices, and helping to form good character within them. There is much truth in this common understanding of our role.

Yet another truth is also at work here. Parenting changes us. Raising a child scratches and dents our theology, scuffs and scrapes our self-image, and drags us out toward the deeper end of the pool, whether we’re ready to go there or not. Parenting helps us grow up.

Lisa and I recently spent three years learning from single parents while researching and writing our new book, Raising Great Kids on Your Own. We sat down with single moms and dads across North America and in many parts of Europe and Asia. We listened to them, learning about their struggles and also their strengths. Across differences of age, race, culture and worldview, we simply asked these parents: “What’s working? Have you found a way to make a difference?”

Our friend Molly didn’t plan to be pregnant at 16. Faced with difficult possibilities, she made a courageous moral decision: she chose to let her baby live. That complex and intentional act led to another tough choice: she decided to keep her child and raise it herself.

Molly was not alone, of course. Molly’s mom was available and willing to help. Molly had brothers nearby who would pitch in as often as possible. She had some friends at church, caring adults in a small community of faith that genuinely wanted to help if they could.

Six years after giving birth, Molly is one of the wisest people we know. She has learned to delay gratification, to make painful and difficult sacrifices, and to look out for someone else’s good, not just for her own. Our world is full of 40- and 50-year-olds who are not as wise as Molly is; they have advanced in age without moving forward toward personal maturity.

Molly grew up by raising her child. Torn between having fun and doing the hard work of parenting, she didn’t always choose the work. Yet as she watched the consequences of her own choices and as the miracle of childhood unfolded literally before her eyes, Molly realized that the meaningful things in life often require sacrifice, self-control, and generosity of spirit.

While her friends were playing, Molly was praying. She asked God for wisdom as she tried to shape and mold the thoughts and actions of her daughter. Meanwhile, as Molly raised a bright and inquisitive little girl, Molly herself moved consistently and powerfully toward maturity.

Parenting grows us up. We can divorce our partners, change jobs, and leave the state. We can walk away from our debts, ignore our commitments and choose to avoid reality, partying until we drop. But if we stick around and do the hard work of parenting, whether we’re single or in a committed relationship, a funny thing starts to happen. While we are raising a child, we ourselves are learning, growing, changing and becoming better adults.

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TURNING THIRTY

2008-04-15T09:09:00.000-07:00

If we all popped out of the womb as unselfish people, marriage would be easy.

Instead, at least since Adam’s apple, we tend to be born doing a bad cover of the classic Sinatra tune: “I want it MYYYYYYYY way…………”

This makes marriage difficult.

In a couple of weeks our marriage turns thirty. As if --- we got married five years ago, maybe ten. We’re what, maybe late 20’s ourselves? We can’t possibly have been married for almost…..three…..decades.

Life is strange.

But marriage, which started out difficult, has gotten sweeter, closer, much more fulfilling, and in every way better. We fail, we fall short, we make mistakes, but we are saints-in-progress (and Lisa is making more progress than her partner).

Most of that progress can be described by Bonhoeffer, who talked about the primary invitation of Christianity as being “come and die.” He didn’t refer to a physical martyrdom (although he himself died opposing the evil of Hitler). Instead, Bonhoeffer referred to the death of selfishness; dying to “my way.”

That kind of death is absolutely life-giving in marriage.

After two or three years of struggle and challenge, Lisa and I somehow began to find our groove (obscure 70’s reference, forgive us, we married in ’78) as a couple. We each began to make genuine sacrifices for the other, bending our wills when it mattered, not just when we didn’t care or didn’t have an opinion.

We also began praying for each other while with each other. That daily bond and connection in prayer --- praying for each other, with each other --- is a principle we have taught to other couples also. It’s the number one source of relational glue for committed marriages. It builds a love that covers a multitude of sins.

Selfishness divides, but prayer unites.

It’s more than a bit surreal to watch our union turn thirty.

We’re planning to drive up the coast, hang out in Carmel (where it all began) and just generally celebrate our anniversary. There’s nothing we need to “accomplish” or “complete” or “achieve.” Well, maybe we'll try for a nice tan...

Mostly, we just want to thank God for thirty years together. We want to renew our commitment to him and to each other. We want to keep on dying (to self) so that our relationship can keep on living and growing, moving forward.

See you in another thirty, God willing…

A New Way of Seeing

2008-04-10T12:17:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time I stretched out flat on a lawn chair, fully reclined, prone against the night sky, eyes wide open – waiting for the show to begin.

There were a dozen of us, maybe more, neighbors on aluminum cots, our friendship fueled by excessive caffeine and warmed by the remaining embers of a waning campfire. Patience was required of us, but we filled the pre-matinee vacuum with jokes and stories, boasting of the sort of long-ago adventures that become far better with each retelling.

Then the show began, quieting us, and we lay there side-by-side as a meteor shower shattered the silence of a South Dakota sky in mid August. Fireballs hurled by unseen gods thundered across empty space and blazed into infinity, ending not with bangs but with whimpers.

Nothing we watched was detonated by human hands, no careful mix of gunsmoke shot tiny balls of explosive arrays upward to awe our tiny crowd. We were caught in the grasp of the mighty Perseids, remnants of a long-ago comet, shattered and racing toward nowhere.

Philosophers love the sort of questions posed by that long-ago night. “If a meteor shower dances across the night sky, and no one lies down on a cot to see it, did it really happen?” Questions such as these help explain why so many promising students of philosophy end up as cab drivers, a noble and much-needed profession.

Some of us had not showered that day, but the meteors did. This objective display was set in motion long before our camping trip was dreamed or planned: it was our good fortune merely to arrive in the best place to see it. For that night at least, the Badlands were Good places. We did not imagine this, individually or collectively, but we were witnesses to a divine moment, hushed of our boasting by the kind of awe that places wee (sic) humans in perspective.

Annie Dillard talks about this in describing our search for God. Here is Dillard:

“God does not demand that we give up our personal dignity, that we throw in our lot with random people, that we lose ourselves and turn from all that is not him. God needs nothing, asks nothing, and demands nothing, like the stars. It is a life with God which demands these things.

“Experience has taught the (human) race that if knowledge of God is the end, then these habits of life are not the means but the condition in which the means operates…You do not have to do these things – unless you want to know God. They work on you, not on him.

“You do not have to sit outside in the dark. If, however, you want to look at the stars, you will find that darkness is necessary. But the stars neither require nor demand it.”
---- excerpts from Teaching a Stone to Talk by Annie Dillard

The Bible As History: Documents

2008-04-03T11:30:00.000-07:00

There are more than 5,000 manuscripts of the New Testament in libraries and private holdings around the world; by latest census the actual count is around 5,400. These are partial or complete manuscripts of portions of the established New Testament Canon.

I had the chance to study some of these documents in the 1980’s, working as a visiting scholar at the Hill Monastic Manuscript Library which is located on the campus of St. John’s University. Deep within the basement of the library’s main building I spent many happy hours studying ancient illuminated manuscripts; my visiting scholarship is noted in the annual reports of the library during this period.

I was looking at texts and fragments of texts in many languages, laboriously copied by monks in caves and grottos, castles and monasteries. Some of these I examined by microfilm; priests from St. John’s were touring Europe during these years, photographing previously unseen documents from the earliest of times. (Monks hid these treasures from centuries of looters and spoilers, including the Nazis.) It is impossible to describe the beauty and majesty of these documents from so many historical eras, in so many languages, many of them decorated with intricate drawings, borders and pagination.

Archaeology is bringing us new treasures almost daily. More and more New Testament manuscripts are being discovered, some of them written on papyrus, an early version of paper. These papyri can be dated with high degrees of accuracy; among two examples are P52, which contains excerpts of John’s Gospel and is dated circa 100 AD, shortly after the time of Christ. Another lengthy papyrus, P46, contains 86 of the 104 leaves of Paul’s epistles, circa 200 AD or earlier; some scholars estimate late 1st century.

The four gospels of our New Testament Canon were in common use by the 100’s AD, mutually agreed as authoritative. Seven subsequent councils would eventually define, after much frank and open discussion, which books made the Canon and which did not, yet the four gospels were already established as authoritative.

Archaeology, historical study and literary criticism will never be able to confirm or affirm ‘faith in God’ as being valid. Such faith is a matter of personal choice, made in the heart of each believer. It is the same kind of faith that some of us exercise when we choose to believe that someone outside ourselves truly, deeply loves us.

Having said this, it takes no faith whatsoever to believe that there was a Jesus, that he lived, traveled, taught and died. The historical accounts are clearly substantiated and carefully documented. The surviving documents give us many witnesses, on the record, who state clearly their belief that Jesus performed miracles and that this same Jesus was resurrected by God’s power, appearing again to his followers, days after his very public and painful death. We can accept or reject these claims; either way they are part of history.

Ten of the eleven original followers of Christ were martyred for this stated belief: that Christ was both human and divine, that he healed and worked many miracles, that God raised him from death. After these ten, many others were also imprisoned, tortured and killed. The simple path “okay, maybe Jesus was just a nice teacher with good manners” was not chosen by these early believers; they died attesting to the truth of Christ’s power, authority, and victory.

We inherit their testimony, which can be validated with far more historical accuracy and consistency than say, the plays of William Shakespeare, a much more recent figure. We have thousands of pages of evidence; more are being discovered daily in the caves and hills and ruins of the Middle East and the Mediterranean.

We cannot pick up our Bibles as blunt instruments and hit others on the head: “Ah, you see, there is a God after all!” Nothing in the Bible proves that there is a God, that He loves us, or that He gave His only son to redeem us and reconcile us to Himself.

The Bible does not prove these things: it only states them for us. On the record, in so many voices and languages, dating from Old Testament prophets who were stoned and drowned, through New Testament apostles who were tortured and killed. On the record, written not only in various inks but also, figuratively, in blood.

For some of us, the poignant reality is that many deaths took place so that we could read, reason, understand and believe --- all in our own language. And for some of us, the even more poignant reality is that one death took place so that we might live.

"In his disciples’ presence Jesus performed many other miracles which are not written down in this book. But these have been written in order that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through your faith in him you may have life.”
--- St. John’s Gospel, Chapter 20, Verses 30 and 31

The Resurrection as History: Witnesses

2008-04-01T11:12:00.000-07:00

After years of oppression by the Romans, Jews at the time of Christ were ripe for revolution. They were tired of slavery; ready to assume their destiny as free people.

Since within the Jewish doctrine fewer ideas are more entrenched than that of the coming Messiah, many sprang up claiming "I am the Messiah: Follow me!" and they drew a few followers by doing so. It was, for those alive at the time, a widely known cultural phenomenon. (Not unlike California in the 1960's, by the way.)

This is one reason why, as the ministry of Jesus grew and spread, the Roman leaders at first reacted by thinking "oh, we get it --- another one of those people." They thought of Jesus as yet another 'crazy person' with a Messiah complex, drawing followers out to the wilderness ---- or in some cases, actually plotting revolution. The Roman government was annoyed by these types, but didn't feel threatened. A few crazy people here and there, with or without followers, do not bring down an army and a government as organized as the Roman Empire.

There is a wide range of extra-Biblical material about the culture and its many Messiah wannabes; and the Scripture also comments. Gamaliel, a Jewish leader and teacher, mentions two of these "Messiah types" by name: Judas of Galilee (led a revolt, circa AD 6) and Theudas (led about 400 followers at his peak). Find Gamaliel's comments in Acts 5:35-39. Gamaliel's hearers 'got it' --- they had seen the same phenomenon.

Acts 21:38 refers to another of these leaders, who assembled a militia, four thousand strong, and led a failed revolt. This leader was Egyptian but is left unnamed. Later, circa AD 70 John of Giscala and Simon bar Gioras also led followers into battle. These are several of the more prominent persons, among many examples of the type.

Ultimately these revolutionaries failed, as did their movements. In part these leaders failed because the power of God did not support their 'ministry' --- that is, no blind people saw, no lame people walked, no dead people came back to life. The absence of God's presence left the followers uncertain, divided, and ultimately unsuccessful. These leaders were great at stirring up rumors, but couldn't produce the results!

In stark contract with these many wannabes, Christ's ministry was accompanied at all times by the kinds of 'signs and wonders' that drew crowds and made history. In public and on the record, miracles happened. People were amazed: anyone would be!

Christ could have capitalized on all of this free publicity and led a powerful revolt against Rome; many hoped He would do so. He could have had an impressive career in politics. Instead he maintained a steady humility that pointed His followers to God alone, and to God's Divine purposes. Christ humbled himself and walked the path of obedience all the way to death, His death on the cross (Philippians 2).

The story, beautiful and interesting as it was, might have ended there, except that God decided to vote again. God raised Christ to life; Christ then began appearing to His former followers --- who literally at first could not believe it was him. Would you? Dead people don't walk. In the days following His resurrection Christ appeared to more than 500 persons, "in the flesh" --- fully alive and very much Himself. (I Corinthians 15; see also Josephus among other historians.)

Many of these witnesses later died for their insistence that they had seen Christ alive after His resurrection. It would have been simpler (and a real life-saver) to simply admit that they were mistaken, or they had 'seen a ghost' or 'had a vision' or maybe even 'dreamed it all up.' Instead these witnesses told the truth --- and for their faithful witness they were tortured in horrible ways, and killed --- as were many later, also.

Good people live and die. Some of them attract followers. Some of them leave us their best ideas in printed books; many do not. What transforms the history of humanity is something unique and much more powerful: a dead man walking.

When you greet one another on Easter Sunday with a simple "He is Risen!" and its response "He is Risen Indeed!" you are continuing a witness that has carried down through 20 centuries of oppression, persecution, and hostility, staying faithful to the 'facts on the ground' at Golgotha. It is the Resurrection which establishes Christian faith as an enduring cultural phenomenon to this day, and which will do so tomorrow.