Bryan’s Blog – Page 3

Salute to Service

The Vietnam War was in full swing while Dad was in college. He received a college deferment, but upon graduation, the war was still slogging on and his draft number was pretty low. He was willing to serve, but he didn’t want to be drafted, so he signed up for the United States Air Force as an aircraft maintenance officer. He spent the last two years of college as a member of the Air Force ROTC, so the transition was smooth, and he attended boot camp without incident. The trouble didn’t start until his first duty station where he ended up in a bit of hot water.

Storms Blow

I just discovered another way that I’m like my Dad. He hated cancelling activities. Neither snow, wind, rain, or hurricane would stop him. I was unreasonably annoyed last year when the governor cancelled every activity in the state for Hurricane Michael. I’m annoyed again now that so many activities are cancelled for Hurricane Dorian. There are definitely areas of Virginia Beach that will deal with flooding and power outages, but why can’t we play volleyball or go to the Y? It’s a little wind and rain, no worse than a standard nor’easter. Annoying. Dad was like that too, particularly about church.

As pastor he could make the call. If it was Sunday, he would insist on having church, regardless of the weather. Lianne and I lived right around the corner, so we were always there too. One year, 2010, we had a huge Christmas storm. The streets were covered in snow, and it was still snowing on Sunday morning. Dad sent an email telling everyone that the service was a go. It was a very small crowd. In an effort to make the most of the situation, I took a nice snowball into the sanctuary and pelted Dad right in the chest. I figured Jesus wouldn’t mind a little snow on the floor of the church because he loves little kids, and he knows how to have a good time.

It was a motley crew that Sunday, but we had a blast. We sledded in the parking lot, and had a snowball fight. It was the day after Christmas. I assume we sang a few songs and Dad shared a word, but I honestly don’t remember if we had a church service at all. I do remember playing in the snow with friends and family.

Similarly, a few years later, Dad scheduled an outdoor church service in June. It was only a few weeks before Dad passed away. The weather was iffy, but of course he decided to do it anyway. Dad, foreshadowing his own experience, released his turtle from captivity, back into nature where it belonged. The rain showed up, but the people didn’t. Those who did … they remember it.

I don’t know why cancelling things grated against my dad’s instincts. He was big on commitment and keeping the Sabbath. Attending church regularly was very important to him. He was also unfazed by the storms around him. Not reckless, but not careful either. In fact, oftentimes there was joy in the storm. There was shared experience in the struggle. I think that is what Dad enjoyed most. He wanted to exert his will over the circumstances instead of allowing them to push him down a path he didn’t want to go. I can relate, but sometimes the storms are too big for this life.

Storms blow, rain and wind causing a great tree to bow and break.
Storms blow, sickness and disease causing a great man to bow and break.
Storms blow, but we shouldn’t cancel life because of them.

We Bear the Scars

You’ll often hear older folks waxing poetic about the good ‘ole days when kids played outside, climbed trees, and weren’t afraid of a skinned up knee. I’ve slid down my share of impossibly high slides with no guard rails. I’ve spun so fast on merry-go-rounds that I nearly passed out and was eventually launched from the metal platform like a droplet of water flung from a shaking dog. I learned about centrifugal force that way. #science I’ve jumped on trampolines, and get this, there were other people on it at the same time!! Crazy, I know. I’m pretty sure the springs were extremely rusty as well.

Chicago Vacation 2019

I’ve included some pictures of our trip in this post, for more pictures click here.

We left Virginia Beach around 2am in a rental van. The goal was to drive straight through to Chicago. We’d check into our hotel, pick up my mom from the airport, and chill. It worked perfectly. I forgot how fun driving together on a long trip can be. We had so many great conversations. We know each other pretty well, but we got to know each other even better during that 14 hour van ride. The first few hours Jaron kept us company. The last few hours, Ava and Davin chimed in. The middle few hours went something like this ….

Ducklings in the Road (Earth Day 2019)

Suburbia is where the developer bulldozes out the trees, then names the streets after them. — Bill Vaughan

On the way home from church yesterday traffic slowed to a stop near a busy intersection. Up ahead we could see a couple of cars with their doors open. We thought it might be an accident until we saw a lady bent over on the median, walking with her hands out. She was trying to usher a duck, and four little ducklings, across the busy street. Six lanes of traffic were blocked, and there were a few people getting angry. We also had somewhere to be for Easter, but I thought about it and realized that this was the right thing to do.

Learning to Drive Stick Shift

Fewer and fewer cars are sold with manual transmissions. We never had one growing up. I learned to drive behind the wheel of our full sized family van. So it was kind of embarrassing when my girlfriend wheeled around in a Ford Escort stick shift, and I couldn’t even drive it. My fragile psyche couldn’t handle the emasculation. Dad had pity on me and took me out to the parking lot in Lianne’s car to show me the ropes. It was a trying ordeal, a rite of passage, a gauntlet on my journey to manhood.

Joe and the War Wagon

Joe Hancock, a co-worker of mine, passed away suddenly this week. He was 41 years old. I had plenty of interactions with him at work over the years. He had a wry sense of humor. He was kind. He was eager to learn and to teach on the job. He was an excellent teammate at the office, but that’s not what this blog is about. This blog is about the time, a few years ago, when he came up to our property in Amelia County to shoot. I’ll never forget him pulling up, parking, and opening the back of his truck to reveal an overwhelming arsenal of guns and ammunition. Joe was an incredibly peaceful guy, and also quite the gun enthusiast. My family is relatively inexperienced with weapons. We’ve shot small guns and rifles a few times, but nothing like what he had. I could tell he was proud of his collection, and eager to show us the ropes.

Shamrockon

I checked again, even though I knew the answer. Windy and 42 degrees for a high. In case you haven’t heard, I’m running a half marathon in March. I need to get in my thrice weekly runs so I can finish the race without embarrassing myself. Treadmills are torture, and I’m not a fan of the colder weather. I need to run at least 3 miles, that’s it. I psyched myself up and jetted home from work so I could get out there before dark. I double layered everything. I even found my jogging gloves.

Drens and Krods

Mom and Dad didn’t let me and my brothers fight when we were younger. The expectation was that we would get along and actually like each other. When we argued and verbally fought with each other, we got in trouble. I can’t even imagine what manner of wrath would have befallen us if any of our disagreements had come to physical blows. That was simply never an option in our house growing up. For my part, I was such a laid back older brother that not much bothered me and I was nice to my little bros. That turned out to be a smart move because my height and weight advantage quickly disappeared as we progressed through high school. Fortunately I’ve maintained my intellectual edge by a long shot.

Continue reading Drens and Krods

Transcend and Include

I recently heard Father Richard Rohr reference Ken Wilber and the concept of transcend and include. Many Christians grow disillusioned with religion, move toward something new, and reject the faith of their youth. Richard encouraged us to find the value in what we learned in the first stage of life. Include those traditions while we transcend toward the second stage.

This resonates with me. I grew up in the charismatic movement, but over the years I’ve moved away from that focus on emotionalism and supernatural gifts. I question the idea that speaking in tongues is mandatory, or even something to be sought. I look at the elevation of prophets and prophecies with much skepticism. I’m uneasy with the focus on uncontrollable physical reactions, such as being slain in the spirit and shaking during worship. I don’t see faith as a contractual agreement with God whereby He is subject to our needs. I don’t believe the Bible is inerrant or that it has one authoritative meaning.

However, I still include much of what I grew up with into my current life and practices. For example, I try to combine body, mind, and spirit during my worship times. I lift my hands and I move. For me, this is an outward manifestation of the wonder that I feel. It allows me to holistically experience and express my connection with God. I also view speaking in tongues as a type of meditative practice, although I meditate in different ways now. I see faith as a continual journey of growth, and I pray for good things and for healing, with as much conviction as I can muster. I read the Bible as a diverse collection of writings about God, and I hold on to my respect for the Truth it contains.

I think this is where many of us miss out as we transform our beliefs through the years. We utterly discard where we came from, rejecting it with an anger and a contempt that isn’t healthy. In our drive to be more progressive we exclude our past and fail to incorporate it into our future. I want to grow and transcend beyond the faith of my youth, but at the same time respect and include the things it taught me as part of my continued journey.