Here are the top five lessons I (think I) have learned over this past 50 month journey and beyond. All are interconnected:

1. People are more important that what they do. Personalizing it: I am not what I do . That is, my identity is rooted in Christ, not my performance. I work from significance in Christ, not for it, as the Gospel would have it. (Repeat that last sentence with me! This message never grows old, and must be the cornerstone of a daily life. We must preach that application of the Christ’s glorious grace to ourselves every day.) In this season, I had to learn to do a few things well. To be fine with not being a perfectionist (okay, I am a recovering one). To release myself from forming a tiny view of life, all centered on me and what I am doing. I was a chronic do-er five years ago, and will never be that again, by the grace of God. Reality is, I work harder now, more efficiently, and am more content to simply BE, motivated by the Gospel.
2. Life is meant to have rhythm. Walking in step with the Spirit is a relationship worth fighting like heaven to keep vital. He is the One working in me to fulfill God’s ultimate purposes. Some people like to refer to life as being in "balance," and I probably should like that word as an engineer-type. It sounds so mathematical. Yet, it fails to see life in proper perspective, for we are not weighing things against one another (the definition of balance), but seeing them come together in harmony. Some like to pit propositional statements of faith against the story of faith. Jesus against Paul. The Bible against the Spirit. Truth versus experience. That’s utter foolishness. They are not against one another, but serve one another in love. Inexplicably connected. For example, in the Gospel rhythms, my job does not compete with my family.They are interwoven in a beautiful work of art by the Father, Son and Spirit.
3. GOD is the Gospel ( tag | search ). If there is one message I hope to bring to the local church, it is this one (along with the view that the Gospel is for all of life, even for Christians). I read the book by that title in 2006 while on hiatus from seminary (Kari was pregnant, I focused on working to provide for us). Lightning struck my soul. It is essentially 180 pages of meditation on two primary verses: 2 Corinthians 4:4,6 . Wow. All things exist and move towards the public display of God’s infinite worth (His glory). Since God Himself is the great good of the Gospel, entering into relationship like Him is like diving into a pool, not just off a diving board. As God is meant to permeate all of life, the Gospel is meant for all of life (like a living room, as opposed to simply the doorway to new life).
4. All of life is preparation. God will, as a loving Father, use every means possible shape us into the image of His Son ( Romans 8:28-30 , Hebrews 12 ). This process of sanctification (purifying) is deep and lasting, and cannot happen without pain, tragedy, relationships (including conflict and resolution) triumphs, and dependence. As a single man I began to see the need for Lamentations 3:25-33 and Habakkuk 3:17-19 become reality in my own life, asking God to shape me into the kind of man who praises Him no matter the circumstance. Doing that deep work requires preparation, which requires suffering. From a broken vertebrae that remains today, to relational brokenness, to physical pain in my feet, to disappoints of various sorts, there is no end to the design of God’s good for us through these experiences.
5. My life is meant to be wrapped about God’s story, not Him around mine. This couples with the others, and specifically #4, as God’s story is simply bigger than teeny, tiny me. That is because the Gospel is not merely good advice. It is the Good News — check that — the best news possible, that Jesus Christ, the Righteous One, died for our sins and rose again, eternally triumphant over all His enemies, so that there is now no condemnation for those who believe in Him, but only everlasting joy in God. Thus, God and His Word are the ultimate reality. I don’t apply the Bible to my life, I rather press my life into His Word, applying my life to Him. This is more than semantics, for each of us is prone to by default live for the glory of ourselves, to seek to further our own kingdom. I am a servant of King Jesus. I am part of His Kingdom. He holds the keys to the future, and I gladly submit to His leading, whatever that entails. As all good story feature conflict and resolution, the Grand Story of the Bible being played out in the universe by the Triune God is the best possible mixture of both.
6. (Just like yesterday there are six. Forgive me.) Faithfulness is our part, fruitfulness is God’s. Actually, our faithfulness is enabled by His ( Phil. 2:12-13; 1 John 5:3 ). Kari and I remind one another weekly that our home and family is the first ministry. Being faithful starts here. For whatever "success" I find in vocation, in being a pastor, in whatever, it is worthless if I fail as a faithful husband and loving father. That is the definition of success.

From these lessons I formed the chief objective of my life: To help everyone breathing know the one and only Triune God, in Christ, better than they know anyone or anything else, and to love and enjoy Him together more than anyone or anything else in all the world.

Ever a life-long learner (through all eternity), swimming in the depths of the Gospel and seeing how necessary these truths are, and looking for more to discover.

• Tomorrow I’ll share 5 lessons learned over these last 50 months . For now, here are five signposts along the journey to being a pastor (stretching back before these last 4+ years).

In 1998 I first sensed Christ’s call to enter the ministry. My heart and mind was electrified as a sophomore at OSU, an engineering student, and oh so fed up with how far behind I was spiritually. In that day, specifically Super Bowl weekend in late January, He ignited in me a spark that grew larger and larger, coupled with an insatiable desire for God’s Word. Those college years and serving in the local church and on the OSU campus were invaluable experiences. Many lessons learned, lots of failure. More grace. The relational connections made still remain firmly intact. The Gospel was our chief unifying reality. I have been blessed to see fellow students, and then my own students from Real Life and the School of Ministry forge ahead in their part of God’s grand story.

In 2003 I was graciously enabled to marry the woman of my dreams. Kari, I l. No matter what "success" I achieve as a pastor, my first duty is to be a faithful husband and loving father. Before God, let all these other things serve to reinforce that trajectory, not divert from it. Without you, Dutch, and now Heidi, this journey would not be worth taking.

Fifty months ago (2004) Kari and I took the plunge and moved to another state for the sake of my becoming a pastor in the official sense for the first time. Until then I had been "pastoring" in many ways, and while I knew the title would not add an inch to my stature, it was to be a significant jump in responsibility before God and men. And boy was it. Nothing like we imagined, and I never did became a "pastor" in the official sense. We felt "shelved." But God broke me, and rebuilt me again to be the kind of man who loves Him more than a title and is willing to suffer for the Gospel. People became real to me. The Gospel went deeper. Christ became huge, more than adequate and satisfying. We look back fondly on that season now with the vantage point of having come through it. Warren Wiersbe in On Being a Servant of God reminds us to not ask God to get us out of our trials, but to ask Him, "What do You want me to get out of this trial?" God had a whole different plan for us, a crucible of what seemed like an endless string of disappointments. Our character needed it. I thank Him for it — without reservation — and would not for a million dollars trade any of those experiences. Please don’t sign me up for it again, our good Father, but I would not go back and chart a different course.

In 2005 we came back to Oregon, continuing in a career of construction management  in construction for my good friend Ben was the sweet spot of God’s will for us at the time. As were were a growing company, and I needed to gain credibility with the crew, I took to being the lowest grunt of the lot, moving aluminum shoring and pipes, and finally getting some good callouses from hands fully engaged in some good manual labor. Installing sewer lines 8 feet below the ground surface and mortoring up manholes was a crucible for learning. I remember the guys often asking me during lunch, "They didn’t teach you that in college, eh, Mr. Civil Engineer!?" I thank them for it. During the process I learned that nothing is secular, the construction workers need the Gospel just like I do, and that all circumstances are "sacred" in that they are meant to be used for worshipping God. Without those "silent years" we would not be here (positionally, and certainly not ready in our character). I learned to practice God’s joy in all of life, especially the mundane things. That is why I plead with people to find their identity in Christ alone and not in what they do. Funny to thing back how my move into the office became official when on the eve of Thanksgiving I ran over my left foot with the Jeep Wrangler. (Yeah, it really hurt, and I walk with a slight limp today.)

Also in 2005 we also became students again. A couple years earlier we had wanted to go to seminary (in Chicago, we thought), but Christ had some pre-graduate school preparation for us (see above). Now, we were able to do this together , both as students, and those Friday-only classes and one night course during that first year at Multnomah was a unique experience. Not sure how we managed the 90 minute commute both ways (fuel was much cheaper), but that time did serve to be like mini "dates" for Kari and I. We entered seminary as a young married couple, and when Kari graduates this year she will have given birth to two children while a student. (She’s incredible, by the way…)

So much more could be said. Dutch was born around Christmas 2006, and our lives have been changed for the better because of him. Last year we lived with Kari’s parents, on purpose, and it was a tremendous experience for Dutch. For us, it showed us how much we love family, need them, and love to live on our own again Without it, we would have had to quit seminary. The last year of interning with Foothills Community Church has been mightily used of God. He reprogrammed me in many ways, especially relationally, bringing out lessons and things from our experiences through Pastor Dale’s care and mentoring. Again, without them, we would not be who and where we are today.

Some may be thinking — are they done with seminary? Not exactly. Kari will finish her last class in December and then graduate in May with a MA in Pastoral Studies with a concentration in Women’s Ministry. I will close out this semester, take a bit off, and then (probably, open to revision, as the above story proves!) take one class at a time when possible. Since pastoring (again, a verb) and serving the local church was and is the "end goal," seminary has served that purpose in part, and I hope to see it continue towards an MDiv (at least 2/3 complete now). We wouldn’t be here without Multnomah , in more ways than one. We love our professors, the staff, fellow students, and alums!

(Okay, this is six…) Today Christ has more of me than He did back then. Some like to talk about returning to their first love (see Rev. 2 ). For me, returning to that teeny, tiny love would be going backwards, for my vision of Christ and seeing as the ultimate cause, reason, object and satisfaction of my life is far greater today than it was then. Truly, all of life is preparation .

Helping others know, love and enjoy God above all else,

JP

Next Monday Kari and being our new journey with our new church family — about which I’m eager to speak and write about.

This week’s "staycation" has provided a little bit of reflection time. (And lots of needing wrestling time with Dutch.) In these days I’ve written down much to come back to later — for seasons of less clarity — a portion of which I plan to post on the ol’ blog this weekend. A brief five-point memoir, and a list of five lessons learned over this past 50 month journey.

Today was a unique time, a luncheon to get to know the church staff more. A great time, and really good food, mixed in with lots of laughs. What a great team of Gospel-centered, others-directed people we are joining.

My favorite moment what when we all were asked to answer briefly, "What were you like as a child?" Right then Dutch (the only kid in the room) walked out in the middle of everyone and threw his toy. Seeing it coming I pointed at him, saying "Just like that!" and tossed a toy over his shoulder too. I’d like to say he gets his dramatic flair from his mom, but we know better.

Yesterday he put four books in my book bag, thinking I needed to meditate on the Gospel.

He selected one paperback each from four great authors: Andrew Murray, H.A. Ironside, D.L. Moody, and J.I. Packer.

Thanks son, your exhortation is heeded!

(The yellow duct tape hold together my DIY laptop case.)

My creative wife reuses yogurt containers — this one flavored peach — for keeping special food items. In this case, after last week harvesting a couple of our Basil herb plants, she produced enough pesto for months to come. Since we’re out of bacon bits (bummer), that one came back for a new life as a pesto container.

Nothing profound. Just daily life, reusing and recycling, and celebrating the resourcefulness of God and my wife.

1. The God of Disappointment, Identifying Expectations (Friday night)
2. Processing Pain, Identifying Fear (Saturday morning)
3. True Hope, Unearthing Expectancy (Saturday mid-day)
4. Enjoying Fulfillment, Worshiping God (Saturday night)

Her notes are close to 40 pages single-spaced, and I look forward to going through them at the same time she teaches many miles away. They will provide specifics to pray for and about. She will probably have some reflections to blog about when she gets home and rested again.

On this end, I’ll be flying solo with the Dutcher (with family help), and having good discussions with our boy about how wonderful his Mommy is. Privileged again for the opportunity to preach in Wilsonville another time at Canyon Creek Church . This time the text is Philippians 3:1-11 , and the title will be "Worthless Doing and Priceless Knowing ."

It is amazing how difficult it is to distill a whole message on a couple paragraphs down to that length, just a paragraph or two. I was asked to give a little synopsis for the church bulletin; this is what I wrote:

We have natural bent towards religion. That is, we tend to find our identity by what we do, rather than in Who God is. It is easy to think we have done so much on our own, for our "gains" are clearly seen by looking at our own religious resumes and feeble good works — especially by comparison with others. Yet, in the Gospel, the ground has become level for everyone, from the talented and motivated to the least gifted. The common thread is God’s grace in Christ, and our response in humility (looking out to Him, not into ourselves).

The Gospel of God’s glorious grace is the only means God has designed to set us free from empty religion. We no longer come to our Creator as ones holding our great accomplishments in our hands. Instead, we along with the Apostle Paul, can rightly say, "whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ" ( Phil. 3:7 ). Our empty doing is traded for priceless knowing. We now can know, love and enjoy Jesus our Savior as the supreme object of our affections and the true desire of our hearts. Does that describe your trajectory?

Hoping to help us all discover grace-renewal in the God of all grace, and be people who "worship in the Spirit" ( Phil. 3:3 ), knowing, loving and enjoying our Savior above all else.

Pray for us, and for our hearers.

As Spring transitions to Summer, in some ways our future plans as a family in ministry are "on-hold," but in other ways we cannot help but sense God’s joy in conforming us to the image of His Son. Nothing is wasted in this process. Our identity is not limited to what we do. As I reminded the Cornerstone graduating class on Friday, even if I never "make it" as a pastor my core identity is "in Christ," and being a faithful husband and loving father are the measure of true success.

Today is also my last day as a 29-year-old. Kari threw me a 30th birthday party on Saturday, which was awesome and so much fun with family and friends. The big gift was what I call our "second car" — a Marin Muirwoods 29er. (With 29" wheels, larger than the standard 26".) It’s halfway between a road bike and praise God less expensive than either (relatively to an equivalent in value).

A few years ago my brother handed down his old Cannondale road bike, which is a great bike. It’s still rolling after 20 years. But it was built for a someone shorter than 6-foot, and with the rural roads out here I can’t get a half-mile from home without calling home with a flat tire. Enter what the experts call an "urban" commuter bike, and one gets the best of both worlds — half road bike, half mountain bike. The large 20-1 /2 " frame fits nicely, and the 29" wheels can really glide along. (And look ma, no flats!)

Thank you to Kari, my parents, and so many friends who chipped in on this sweet ride. It took me exactly 30 minutes to cover the 7.7 miles to the church office this morning, the last hill being the hardest (and thus most rewarding) part. Here’s looking forward to a summer full of worship and work commuting on this new bike. And rides with my boy, who loves his seat on the back.

We did do our hike, although it is now confirmed that Dutch does NOT like hiking. That is, he loves hiking, as long as he’s the one hiking. He doesn’t like being stuffed into a backpack. So, our hike was significantly truncated because about 1/2 through we had to let him hike on his own. That meant going as fast as his little 16-month-old legs could carry him. It went something like this: step step step (stop to pick up a stick and wave it around) step step step (stop to pick up a bug, mom grabs it before it goes in the mouth) step step step-TRIP, BOOM, WAHHHHHHH!!!!! (tears, hugs, scraped hands…sniffs, whining to be put down) step step step (veers over toward cliff, daddy scoops him up and plops him in middle of trail). Anyway, you get the picture. But it was fun nonetheless. We just need to plan to hike one mile in three hours.

Here’s a little video of the Dutcher hiking away…

And hiking with Mommy…

Dutch the hiding boy

We woke up to Winter

Came home and it was beautiful Spring again

Dutch the preacherman; he likes the ESV

Mommy + Dutch playing …

Mother and son reading … (kept still for 45 minutes!)

Kari took this picture of Dutch with her phone…

Kari started her one-year no-new-clothes fast today (read about her LiveDifferent challenge #1).

Truly, I married up (!), and miss Kari already. As much fun as Dutch is and as much as I love Him, I could not live without my Karina.

I think it was J.C. Ryle who wrote: “The great thing I always desired to find was a woman who was a Christian, who was a real lady, and who was not a fool. Whether I was successful or not, others must judge the better than I can, but I call God to witness these were the three points I always kept steadily in view.”

Before dropping her off at PDX I asked her to send me lots o’ pics, so I could at least "see" how they were. A whole bunch were waiting in my inbox tonight when I arrived home. Uncle Kris taught Dutch how to throw rocks, our precious boy giving cousin Jennika a kiss on the cheek, then giving her a little frightening, and then one of his beautiful blue eyes.

May God be the glory for all His mercy in our lives and the abundant ways He lavishes us with His love, in practical evidences of His grace.

——————————–
Nothing deep here … I just wanted to reflect on the joy of mommyhood.  Yesterday Dutch got a new toy–a green John Deere truck from my dear friend Crystal.  Dutch flipped!  He loved it. Usually snack time is the most exciting part of the day and when I pull out the special Dutch muffin and start breaking off pieces and putting them on his high chair tray, he just about goes crazy.  He loves muffins. But yesterday, he totally ignored the muffin as soon as he saw the tractor!  Then later, the boy who hardly ever plays on his own, took his tractor over to the stairs and played for 30 minutes, all by himself, making the engine sounds and loading and unloading special imaginary bucket-fulls of dirt on the stairs.

Dutch’s other favorite thing right now is to sneak into our bedroom and go through Jeff’s nighstand drawer.  He usually goes for the “No More Fungus” bottle (yeah, gross) and hides things in our bed.  So last night, about 2am, I woke up and couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t comfortable, the realized something hard was under my back.  I reached back and there was a deck of playing cards … from our special little boy.  Too tired to get up, I tossed them down to my feet and fell asleep smiling.  What a little boy.

Today at church, I was the proudest mommy ever because Dutch ran to Pastor Dale and jumped into his arms.  Then I said, “Dutch can you give Pastor Dale a kiss?”  And he leaned up and planted a huge kiss right on our pastor’s cheek.  Yeah, it was pretty sweet.  Of course he might be a terror at home for me, but at least he’s sweet at church. 

That’s all. Just savoring mommyhood. 

Even still Dutch enjoyed his slide during the break in the weather…

He also enjoyed roaming around the grass with his Daddy… can you tell there’s something in my hand he wants?

Papa had connections to some tickets in the best possible seats for bringing a 14-month-old boy — and Dutch loved every minute of it (see video at bottom).

Dutch was so attentive to the game…

All smiles with Daddy…

He was rockin’ to the band…

Sunday we ventured down to help them clean up the restaurant and get ready for their grand opening, Monday morning. Wish we could have been there to order the first sandwich. (Read Kari’s reflections on the day.)

If you are in Corvallis or stopping by, drop in at 2043 NW Monroe Avenue for a great sub sandwich. Tell Aaron you read about them here.

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Dutch took advantage of the sunshine on his new slide and playground equipment. Many more adventures await him!

It was Monday morning, February 24th, 2003 — five years ago today.

(I encourage all to read Kari’s rendition of it, as she’s a much better story teller than I am!)

Monday was our weekly day off, so the regular plan was to drive over to Kari’s apartment in the morning, picking her up at about 8 o’clock and then head to the gym to work out.

That morning when I picked her up she was uncharacteristically late and slow — she obviously had no idea of the imminent plans I had for us. I told her that some friends needed our help that morning, and since we were dressed in our grubby clothes that would be a good time to do some dirty work.

There was an old fraternity our ministry had begun to use, which was being renovated. Friends of ours, a married couple, lived there during the remodeling, and I told Kari that they needed our help.

The night before I had been so anxious I couldn’t sleep. Had even locked my keys in my car, and that morning my car ran out of gas on the way to pick Kari up. I ran to the gas station and then to the old fraternity to prepare a memorable scene. Lots of candles, an open Bible, some communion elements, a stereo playing some of our favorite songs, and a Lite-Brite. Yep, A Lite-Brite.

With the ring in pocket hidden in my pocket, we arrived at the old fraternity and walked downstairs. Kari was a little curious as to why music was playing in the basement, and then we walked around the corner. She was stunned. A plethora of candles (now she realized why I was in such a hurry earlier), our favorite songs, and the elements of communion. We walked over to the makeshift altar and then I diverted her attention, “What’s that over there?…” She looked over to the previously hidden corner and say the Lite-Brite emblazoned in the darkness, “WILL YOU MARRY ME?”

She turned around and I was on bended knee, ring in hand. She didn’t say a word, but then shrieked Yes! and we hugged (our first kiss would wait until our wedding day). It was a joyous time. We danced to the music, then I read some Scriptures to her about marriage and read the framed letter I had written:

My dearest Karina,
I love and adore you. God has sovereignly placed you in my life. May I ever live to serve you, love you, and put you before myself. You bring the sweetest of all joys into my life, and have caused my personal devotion to our Creator Jesus Christ to be multiplied. God’s amazing grace is so obviously upon you life — it’s contatgios and I desire to be a part of it. He shows me mercy, grace and abundant kindness in you; His favor is make obvious by your abiding presence in my life. May His Holy Spirit always lead us. I would be honored above all other honors to by your loving husband, your servant, and your constant companion. In sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for all times.
Will you marry me?

(That frame still sits in our bathroom as a reminder of the covenant of marriage and the enabling of God.)

And then the scened heated up. We sat there on the concrete floor leaning against the fireplace mantle, the candles behind us. We were bowed in prayer and then I stopped and yelled, “I’m on fire! I’m on fire!” Indeed I was. My long-sleeve shirt had caught fire from one of the candles and Kari was able to pat the flames out. A nice welt was on my shoulder blade and a 3-inch diameter hole in my shirt. I was on fire for my fiancee!

Why at 8:00am on a Monday morning?
Well, first of all Monday was our day off from college ministry, so I wanted as much time with her that day, especially with her ring on and rejoicing in one another and God’s goodness.

But the better reason is that I wanted Kari to know that I love the real her … no make-up, wearing grubby clothes, and purely herself. She is the one woman I desire and long to share the rest of my life with.

The last five years have been the best of my life!

—

On Thursday night I broke out the old Ms. Pac-Man game, and Kari gave it a spin, followed by all three of us watching Shrek the Third. Fun times.

—

On Friday we were able to show Dutch off to his uncle John, grandma (Nana, my mom), and great-grandma (Nan), while Jeff and John talked through the finer points of search engine optimization (he’s a dentist in Scottsdale – perhaps all four of my readers can help his page rank).

—

Saturday involved our friends Aaron & Candi finally arriving from their trek cross-country moving back from New England (we saw them tonight, it was awesome), and my looking at how much of our stuff we have stored in the shop here — throw it all out! And how wet its all getting this winter. Kari and I enjoyed the blue sky with a walk in the morning and run in the afternoon, while Dutch took his first journey walking outside.

This morning was my first time giving announcements at both services (normally the 2nd-service annc-giver) at Foothills Community Church. I love the people of our home church and the distinct value they contribute to the Molalla community.

Ever feel so out of sorts that you’re not sure what you are experiencing is real or a dream?

Ever flown on a plane attempting with side-winds topping at nearly 100 mph?

The last couple of days have been (a) without my wallet, (b) at times been a bit surreal, and (c) had some pretty gnarly wind storms. It started early Thursday morning and ended last night, with lots of plane hopping to, in and from California. Sandwiched in the middle was a day packed with family memories and emotional outpouring. It was good, passing too quickly (time with family) and lasting too long (time on a plane) all at once.

Thursday morning at 2:45am I woke up, showered and headed out the door to PDX, catching a plane to Los Angeles for my step-grandmothers funeral. She died the morning of Dec. 26th at the age of 93. Dorothy lived a full life, and the last five years were especially. In fact, unbeknownst to us (and her), God was especially gracious in how she had so much time with family in the last two months. We spend the afternoon with her on the 23rd, and she enjoyed snuggling with Dutch, her only great-grandson, aka “the baby.” It was like a kiss goodbye.

My Mom and step-dad picked me up at LAX, with other family in two, and we headed to the memorial grounds. It was a great gathering of her one son (my step-dad) and his two grown kids, their daughters (my nieces), and other family and friends. Dorothy moved up to Oregon five years ago, so she had strong ties to SoCal, her home for almost six decades. At the funeral I was privileged to be able to speak about Dorothy for my parents and speak of the character of God, expressly from Psalm 23. I read the memories of my step-dad about his beloved mom and we all cried and laughed as I and others spoke. As we grieved and continue to miss her, I can sense God’s presence and abiding comfort mixing our sorrow with His joy. I resolve to learn better how to grieve well, to allow my soul to feel the full blessing of pouring my soul out to God and knowing His comfort as our Shepherd.

Then Thursday night we gathered as a family at my step-brother’s home to simply be together, eat dinner and reminisce about grandma and catch up on one another’s lives. It’s amazing the patience and contentedness evident in times like that. No agenda, no hurrying through the moment, but true authentic family time, brought on through a crisis. A sandwich that night was the first meal I had since Kari’s usually incredible cooking the night before. I even drank California water from the tap (!). The day had sort of been a blur, and that night was was almost too tired I could hardly sleep. That ever happen to you?

My flight Friday morning was to be Southwest 178 out of Burbank at 7am, stopping in Sacramento and then switching planes to get back to PDX at about 10:30am. So I hopped out of bed before five, and my step-brother gave me a ride to the little Burbank airport. My only water bottle was confiscated at the security checkpoint (doh!), but I didn’t care because in a few short hours I’d land back in Oregon and be able to drive home to Kari and Dutch. Our plane was delayed about 40 minutes, so making the connection in Sacto looked to be iffy at best. Then the torrential downfall hit northern and central California and our travel plans were diverted. (See the storm images below; click on any to enlarge.)

The plane attempted to land in Sacto, but was we were only a few hundred feet from touching down all of a sudden the runway moved out from under us. The side-winds were howling (reports reveal them to be record winds been between 40-80 mph inland, topping the century mark at the coast; see images above, click to enlarge). They were pushing our little plane at will. At the last minute our pilot pulled up and we ascended back to 10,000 feet. Scott the pilot finally hopped on the horn and gave us the scoop. He did the right thing, and I don’t blame him for not wanting to attempt to land a second time in Sacto. For the next few hours truly, our pilots and three attendants were extraordinary. Could have brought some more peanuts and pretzels, but they did all they could with limited resources.

It was obvious (by the ridiculousness of the whole situation and decision-making) that the higher-ups for Southwest sitting in some skyscraper in Dallas were rolling dice as to our next plans. They obviously really wanted the plane to get to Sacto, but that was a silly proposition by almost all accounts at this point (the airport there was closed). Why didn’t we simply go back to Burbank after we refueled in Fresno? I don’t know, but the flight crew knew only slightly more than we did in the cabin. They handled it well and remained positive. Our captain spend most of his time in the back talking with all of us, answering questions, and answering his cell phone, the only method of communication with the higher-ups (see pic above right). Thus our plans changed about every hour, and the “options” were slim to none. Okay, none. Southwest could not be to blame for the weather, and certainly they got me home. I may write a letter commending the captain and his crew, while noting some less than exemplary customer service at the counters inside the airports (can I get a meal voucher?), and ask for a little help for those who endured their indecision (I might not write the critical remarks, see the next paragraph…). We ended going with Option C (or was it Z?), landing in San Jose, with plenty of wind resistance. A bunch of us where headed north to Portland and Seattle and this option actually made our final leg more readily possible, although landing in the Bay Area in the midst of a storm was a bit wearisome. I hope the bus that took those seeking Sacramento as a final destination came together, and those who simply wanted to get back to Burbank thanked God for His goodness nonetheless (nothing like a 12-hour Burbank-Burbank round-trip without meals and not really going anywhere!).

One ironic twist is that while I was on the (first) plane yesterday I was reading a book entitled Humility: True Greatness. Thank God for His perspective, because without a submissive attitude I likely would have sat their complaining and muttering under my breath about the delays. It was like a living parable on the practical level of the content I was engaging with my mind theoretically. In reality the whole experience was not all that bad. Sure we sat there in Fresno for over four hours (unable to get off the plane), the announced plans changed at least once every hour, my cell phone died, the battery on my laptop drained to zero, we ate and drank everything on the plane, and the bathroom was a bit overwhelmed. But, I am thankful for the maturity and humorous outlook of my fellow travelers on flight 178 and the use of my next-seat neighbor Steve’s cell phone.

I conclude that people who travel Southwest have in general a different outlook on travel obstacles than those who tend to fly first-class. For example, in talking with Steve, he noted that his wife had a layover at the moment in Hawaii, as a flight attendant with Delta. I candidly asked him what he thought would happen if one of her Delta planes had the same things happen. He shook his head and laughed, noting it would be a scary sight, lots of tension amongst the passengers, and he didn’t think the people would stay very contented for too long just sitting there with no news, plans and little food. The flight crew would have some complaining people on their hands. Could I perhaps say there may be a difference in expectations between a person who paid $77 for a one-way ticket on coach-class Southwest and the one who paid $500 or more for a first-class Delta fare? Pardon my over-generalization, but I think it fits.

Funny thing happened about an hour later: a Delta plane landed next to us and parked out in the middle of nowhere right next to us. Our pilot even made a pretty comical joke about the competition, all in good taste, after we had been there at least four hours and they had waited an hour.

Did I mention I forgot my wallet in my car back in Portland? All I had was my ID and some cash loaned by my parents for the trip back north just in case I needed it. Certainly needed it for my first “meal” of the day at about 4pm: a bagel and cream cheese for five bucks.

When I landed back at PDX we all applauded, and then I walked through the concourse with my laptop open and emailed Kari to tell her I’d landed (remember, dead mobile phone). I caught the bus to economy parking, hoping my wallet was still in my car. It was, wedged between the driver’s seat and the console. Thank You, Jesus.

Since one of the themes from grandma Dorothy’s funeral was on the importance of little silly events in marking our memories as they shape our lives, the rest of my travels seemed appropriate. I’ll never forget the 13+ hour flight from Burbank to Portland.

(Update: According to the USGS readings the water level tapered off a bit late Monday night, reaching just above 12,000 cubic-feet per second, matching the highest total recorded for this date. It has rained a total of three inches in the last seven days.)

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.” (Psalm 91:1)

Before

During

After – all clean!

After – handsome boy!

Kari has written some reflections on our trip, and specifically about Joe & Amanda and their wedding day.

The entire story is now up:
Ch. 1: The Phone Call | Ch. 2: The U-turn | Ch. 3: The Jeep | Ch. 4: The Apartment | Ch. 5: The Meeting | Ch. 6: The Rack | Ch. 7: The Barium Vials | Ch. 8: The Interview | Ch. 9: The Coffee Shop | Ch. 10: The Memorial Service | Ch. 11: The Seifers | Ch. 12: The Right Stuff | Ch. 13: The Acropolis | Ch. 14: The Home Fellowship | Ch. 15: The Settlers of Catan | Ch. 16: The Valentine Dinner | Ch. 17: The SonShiners | Ch. 18: The Road Home | The Epilogue

The transition is somewhat bittersweet for Kari and I as I’ve been able to work with and enjoy the daily interaction with a very close friend in Ben, and Kari has been able to spend time with his wife Zephyr. We’ve known eachother for more than a decade now, and that friendship will continue for life. Kari and I will return to classes at Multnomah Biblical Seminary in ten days from now, as I finish up an MDiv degree in the next couple of years, God willing, and Kari wraps up her MAPS.

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Okay, enough news about us nobodies… The real news is that Dan Patrick is leaving ESPN. Today is his last radio show after 18 years with the sports supergiant. I will listen as possible starting at 10am PST as I conclude my own last day of work.

For those of us who grew up watching SportsCenter, Dan became one of our trusted friends. Teaming with Keith Olberman, Patrick (his real name is Daniel Patrick Pugh) delivered the best sports highlights and quick-witted commentary the world has ever seen. Just as we missed the “Big Show” when Olberman left SportsCenter and ESPN, so will we miss it again as Dan Patrick heads off into his next stage of life, apart from ESPN. For 18 years he has been “en fuego.”

Jeremy is one of those rare friends who embodies the qualities we admire most: he’s humble, authentic, unselfish, has a listening ear, a wise mind, and is adept at seeing into the hearts and lives of others. Couple that with his considerable hoops skills and we became friends for life when we met for the first time back in ‘99 at OSU. It was a privilege to be one of Jeremy’s groomsmen, alongside my brother-in-law Kris Zyp. (In fact, each of us had the other two as groomsmen in our wedding.)

Here’s a pic at the reception on Lake Washington:

Today is moving day for the Patterson family. We have rented out our home and are moving in with Kari’s parents for the next two years (at least that’s the plan) to finish up seminary at Multnomah.  I will continue to work out here in McMinnville for the summer.

To that end, today is the best day to move, as I’m off work, and since we sold quite a bit at our garage sale and on CraigsList, it should be easy enough.

(If you need our new address, send us an email.)

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You may have also noticed that today is July 4th, commemorating our Independence as a sovereign nation 231 years ago, in 1776.  While most of the media and money related to today goes to support a pyromaniac’s delight, it would be best to reflect on the words of one John Adams, second president of the United States and my ancestor, who died 181 years ago today:

“Yesterday the greatest question was decided which ever was debated in America; and a greater perhaps never was, nor will be, decided among men. A resolution was passed without one dissenting colony, ‘that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States.’”

He died on July 4, 1826 (incidentally, within hours of the death of Thomas Jefferson). His final toast to the Fourth of July was “Independence Forever!”

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Speaking of freedom … how about the freedom we have in Christ?!

“For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” [Galatians 5:1]