March 3rd, 2008 Jeff
As you may have noticed, Kari and I are going to seminary. Multnomah Biblical Seminary in Portland to be precise. We’ve found a home there, theologically, relationally, and on so many levels. It has been life-transforming and deepening for us. The old joke is that seminary = ‘cemetery’ … but the exact opposite has been true in our first-hand experience. I’ve been challenged in my love for God, love for others, and being a husband and father. Our marriage has been enriched and encouraged. There have been practical applications of deep theological truths. It is truly a unique experience to be in school together, not just one of us. The learning is not mere head knowledge (cognitive), it is reaching the very core of our beings and character (affections). In fact, while we would love to be able to drop all outside work and charge ahead full-boar towards graduation, this season of working and plodding along in school has been a formative experience. We wouldn’t trade it for anything. The degree is not our primary goal; knowing Christ and becoming like Him is our aim.
Our professors, godly men and women, continually challenge and nurture us. Our classes ranges from spiritual formation (development of character, prayer, and spiritual warfare) to biblical survey, from preaching to biblical languages , from pastoral counseling to biblical exegesis. My MDiv program is a 3-yr program for a full-time student (15+ graduate credits per semester), although I’m already at three years and will be half-way done in May. Kari’s Masters of Arts in Pastoral Studies - Women’s Ministry degree is a 2-yr full-time degree. She’s nearly complete with her course work, and then will have another year of part-time internship. As far as we know, she and I are the only full-time couple both currently at Multnomah.
We’ve also found support with our local church family. Among our church leadership only one went to seminary (our senior pastor), yet there seems to be at least a curiosity and in many cases supportive attitude. Others in the congregation wonder why we could be in college with a child. We’re not exactly in ‘college,’ but we understand the puzzling look.
Certainly, going for years to get a Master’s degree that will end up decreasing your earning power seems a bit odd. There seems to be a general disconnect between seminary and the local church (one thing Kari and I hope to influence the opposite direction). Multnomah seeks to impact that trend with their internship program, melding the best of the academy with local churches who want to develop the next generation of equipped leaders. Our experience in my internship has been great. Instead of simply handing me a pile of tasks and things-to-do, the pastoral leadership has rallied around me as mentors ought to, allowing me to watch and learn and ask and attempt and fail and grow. It is not an all-or-nothing proposition, and while we hope for a pastoral position (a job) in the end, the process is worth it. We love the local church and that is a primary reason to be in seminary. We want to see the church become better, all she is meant to be.
One recent source of recent camaraderie has been the new site, Going to Seminary, started by ‘Just a Guy.’ He and his wife and two kids are venturing through seminary, having started this year. Over at that site there various posts related to relevant topics for seminarians, ranging from finances to relationships to spiritual life to advice on how to go about researching a seminary. The comments are helpful too, with a growing readership of current and past seminarians (and others, I’m sure), giving varying perspectives for a unique (niche) group in our Christian population.
Posted in Blog, Family, Multnomah Seminary | 1 Comment »
February 24th, 2008 Jeff
I caught on fire the morning I asked Kari to marry me. Literally.
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!
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February 10th, 2008 Jeff
We’ve had a variety of experience in the past few days. Last night Kari was reading The Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allen Poe, while nibbling on some buttery popcorn. Yum. I was working on some more theology homework.
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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.
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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).
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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.
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January 5th, 2008 Jeff
Ever travel without your wallet?
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.
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January 4th, 2008 Jeff
My brother-in-law Kris has started his new gig with SitePen, helping the web become all it can be. Truly, I do not know if I have met a more intelligent person than Kris, and I’m thankful his (and Kari’s) genes are part of our son’s makeup. May Dutch be as smart and wise as his uncle Kris!
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September 20th, 2007 Jeff
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September 17th, 2007 Jeff
One of the joys of now living out in Molalla is the close proximity of the forest and great hiking trails. Thanks to his Nana, Dutch now has a backpack to journey along on Daddy’s shoulders. Here’s a pick of us up on Leapfrog Loop above the Molalla River corridor.
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September 14th, 2007 Kari
I wrote this poem to Dutch six months ago…
Today
Someday you will gel your hair, fighting those cowlicks you get from your dad,
But today I smooth your fine, wispy tufts of baby blond with my hand.
Someday your eyes will look to professors, bosses, friends, a wife,
But today your deep blue eyes look straight into mine as you nurse at my breast.
Someday you’ll listen to radio programs, sermons, and university lectures,
But today you listen to my song as I sing you to sleep.
Someday your lips will kiss a wife,
But today your wet little lips kiss mine.
Someday you will taste wine and steak, coffee and cheesecake,
But today I wipe the sweet milk from your chin and the little folds in your neck.
Someday your chest will have hair like your dad’s, you’ll work to perfect your six-pack abs,
But today I give blow-bellies to your round little tummy and kiss your soft chest as I put on your jammies.
Someday your arms will bulge with muscle, as you count how many push-ups you can do at one time,
But today your soft little jelly-arms reach and bat at the little toys hanging from your baby-gym.
Someday your hands will work on cars, type emails, and catch balls,
But today I spread your pudgy fingers and hold your hand on my face, inhaling the sweetness of your clammy palms.
Someday your legs will run down the court, pedal a bike, jump to catch a pass,
But today your chubby legs bow, rolls on your thighs, socks leaving indents on your thick little calves.
Someday your feet will walk across a graduation platform, drive a car, leave our home.
But today your fat little feet dangle outside the stroller, kicking with excitement as we walk along the street.
Someday you will be a husband, a father, a man of God who changes his world.
But today you are my baby boy; Lord, thank You for today.
Mommy
3.14.2007
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