God Laughs and Plays

Today was kind of the beginning of the rest of my sabbatical. Up to this point, it's felt like a blessing of a vacation... but now I dive into the rest of the 'plan.' That means a little more reading.

I've started a couple of books I might tell you about later, but I finished a book today, too. The book is called God Laughs and Plays, by David James Duncan. The title is taken from a line by Meister Eckhart. I first fell in love with Duncan's writing when reading The River Why, which I totally recommend.

I'm not as big a fan of this work. His critiques leveled at the political Right, at former President Bush, and at fundamentalists just come across as shrill and angry. Of course some people might like that-but surely someone of his writing caliber who has his particular worldview could push us to think about these things with more whimsy and nuance.

There are moments, just not enough of them.

Angel Island Overnight

I took Hope on her first overnight hiking trip yesterday. We went to Angel Island in the San Francisco Bay. After a 10 minute ferry from Tiburon we were in the park and started our hike. In Hope's backback were her sleeping bag and clothes. The rest I carried, which wasn't all that heavy since we were just doing one night.

It was glorious one on one time with me and my oldest. Other than campers, the park closes at 3pm, so we had the whole afternoon to walk, talk and explore the park without  hustle and bustle. For my daughter, who is the closest thing we have in our family to an introvert-mystic-butterfly chasing-contemplative, it was a great way to start our year together.

To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, we slowly followed and observed a group of three dear for over 45 minutes... I was ready to move on after minute 3, but my heart thrilled to watch my daughter in her element.

The hike out was LOOOOONG. Lots of whining, and I ended up carrying both my pack and hers for stretches, but I didn't really mind. She's only 8, and she'll have great memories of her first backpacking trip, setting the stage for many more to come.

An Army At Dawn

I finished An Army at Dawn by Rick Atkinson today. My dad passed it on to me while we visited earlier this month. My dad, for as long as I can remember, has had an interest in the history of WWII. So, I did too. As a boy I remember him subscribing to the Time-Life collection of books on WWII. I think there are like 15+ books in the set. For hours I would leaf through the pages, pause at the pictures, and wonder what it would have been like to live that period in color. I accepted my dad's gift gratefully and dove in.

This book did receive the Pulitzer Prize, and it's excellently written. I confess I don't have the kind of mind that wants to keep track of various brigade commanders, troop movements, and like. As a result, I occasionally get lost in the fog of names and battle locations. I suppose it's appropriate that I get lost in the fog of it. It was certainly a fog to the participants, even those who mostly just looked at maps and sent out orders.

The title refers to the American army struggling to find its identity at the US entry into the European war. It turns out even organizations like the military need to learn to fight, learn tenacity, reject entitlement, and grow through failure. Since this is the title, and his major thesis (to my mind at least), the particularity and individual cost of war often gets lost while we observe the war in Africa unfold from 30,000 feet up. If you're looking for individual cost and the insanity of war I recommend All Quiet On The Western Front, or Catch-22 as classic examples of that genre.

I liked it enough to promise my dad I'd order the next one in the trilogy, The Day of Battle, and then pass it on to him after I read it.

Guilty!

I finished a book today, The Limits of Power: The End of American Exceptionalism by Andrew J. Bacevich.

It pinpoints the problem of American foreign policy in a surprising place: me and you. His thesis is found in the opening paragraphs of the first chapter (let's hear it for straightforward writing!)

If Americans still cherish the sentiments contained in Jefferson's Declaration of Independence, they have, over time, radically revised their understanding of those "inalienable rights." Today individual  Americans use their freedom to do many worthy things. Some read, write, paint, sculpt, compose and play music. Others build, restore, and preserve. Still others attend plays, concerts, and sporting events, visit their local multiplexes, IM each other incessantly, and join "communities" of the like-minded in an ever-growing array of virtual worlds. They also pursue innumerable hobbies, worship, tithe, and in commendably large numbers, attend to the needs of the less fortunate. Yet none of these things in themselves define what it means to be an American in the twenty-first century.

If one were to choose a single word to characterize that identity, it would have to be more [emphasis is the author's]. For the majority of contemporary Americans the essence of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness centers on a relentless personal quest to acquire, to consume, to indulge, and to shed whatever constraints might interfere with those endeavors.

 I can easily locate myself in those two paragraphs; I'm guilty and for some reason it hit me in a fresh way as I read this book. I hardly want to get into a "I hate the culture" kind of rant, but this book has opened my eyes in an interesting way to the sheer force of more that swims all around me. Though not the point of the book, I found myself deeply convicted  concerning my own pursuits and discontents. This is the personal theme I keep coming back to: I have an insatiable appetite!

He goes on to make the case that American profligacy (his term) is such a tidal wave that no governmental leader can do anything but swim along - and it has real consequences for our foreign policy as we continue to think of the whole world as our oyster.

Because Republicans have been president for 20 of the last 29 years there is much criticism to be leveled at conservatives, but to simply pin our troubles on one party or another misses the point:

To state the matter directly: Observers preoccupied with delineating differences between this Republican and that Democratic one may uncover any number of small truths while missing the big ones. Identifying the big truths requires an appreciation for continuity rather than change. It's not the superficial distinctions that matter but the subterranean similarities.

I'm not exactly a political scientist, and don't really want to be one, but this theme of constancy between presidential administrations rings true to me. Regardless of their political persuasion, they are going to protect our 'interests'.  What else are they to do? After all, they lead and swim among a bunch of profligates: me and you.

School Begins

We sent our little Malia to kindergarten today. I have vague memories of doing this 3 years ago with Hope, but one of the advantages of having multiple children is that you get to repeat experiences... but be a little more settled into it.

The day involved some crying (on my part and Malia's), but it was also filled with fun first day of school traditions: puff pancakes for breakfast, a card with a little blessing on it, and pictures in front of the school. Malia has seen us do this for three years with Hope, and she let us know about each required element.

It's a little stunning to think she's in kindergarten. I have such vivid memories of her birth, and of arriving here in Berkeley when she was just 3 mo. old that sometimes I can hardly fast forward to the present. Thankfully, she doesn't let us dwell on the past. None of them do.

It's Like Riding a Bike

We've been home for a few days now. Getting settled in. Straightening. Making our first little forays back into 'normal' life. It's good to be back home - but it's also frustrating. Being home is like riding a bike - we just do what we do. Which I suppose is OK, but my time in Canada was a time when God whispered anew to me. I musn't just do what we do.

In other news, Malia is struggling mightily to ride a bike before our traditional camping weekend with a bunch of families this weekend. We work on it together on the baseball infield at the park close to our home. I don't think I can describe the joy of watching her work and focus. I'll be a fortunate father indeed if she takes the courage I see in her now and applies it to the bigger challenges that await for her as she grows. It strikes me, as I watch her, that learning to ride a bike is more than just learning to ride a bike.

Jonas Creek to Waterfowl Lake

Today was a glorious day.

Our devotion this morning was from Psalm 73. We were asked to ponder especially the question in 73:25, "whom have I in heaven but you?" A worthy question, but my mind wandered to v.15, the NRSV translation reads thus:
If I said, "I will walk on in this way,"
I would have been untrue to the circle
of your children.
I prayed intently over these three questions, and I encourage you to also consider them:

1. What do I really understand and trust about my own identity as a child in the circle?
2. What exactly is my obligation to the circle?
3. How intimate and connected is this circle of God's family?

At the end of our ride, our legs were pretty beat up. It's just day two, and many of us are feeling a little leg weary. That doesn't bode all that well for tomorrow's ride up the pass, which will be even longer and steeper than today's opening climb.

As a way to recover many of us waded into the lake (See a picture here) as high up as our legs could bare it. We stood and let the cold seep and do its little magic recovery work on our legs. It also gave us a chance to bathe in a camp site that didn't have showers. Cleaning up isn't for the faint of heart, the water was glacier water less than 10 miles from where the water gathers into this lake.

All-in-all a great day. Tomorrow we head toward the campground where I first decided to follow Jesus 21 years ago. I'm trying hard to not over-sentimentalize it, but it's important for me to spend some time there.

Jasper Campground to Jonas Creek

Today was our first day of riding, something like 67 miles today. As you can see from the picture, it was a beautiful day for riding. We settled into a rhythm today that I suspect will probably be the way things go in general:

Wake up around 8ish
Breakfast
Putz
Devotions
Ride
Lunch (mid-afternoon)
Ride
Get to camp, dinner, ect.

Each of us is taking a turn leading our devotional time. Larry led the first devotion today. It ranged over three scriptures: Phil 2:5-11; 1Pt 5:6-7; 1Cor 1:26-2:2. It was a rich time for me personally, and it created great conversation on the road.

I didn't get to ride the whole day today. Each of us is taking a turn driving the van, and we settled the order by drawing straws... So, I drove first.

The 35 miles I did today felt good. I'm out of shape, but it's a happy out of shape. Ponder that.

We head north to Jasper

Today we headed North to the Canadian Rockies. The drive was a long one. I fell asleep once or twice - still unwinding - and I finished the book I was reading. I'm glad to not have the book hanging over my head. My brother-in-law recommended it and gave it to me earlier this year: The 3 Big Questions For A Frantic Family by Patrick Lencioni. It's pretty standard Lencioni if you've read any, quick and easy. At the same time I was gratified by two little things:

1. The acknowledgement that parenting/family advice is filled with tools, systems, or plans that create more burden and guilt than anything else. Unfortunately, I think this book ultimately does the same thing.
   
2. Families are complex systems. Without inducing guilt in myself (I hope), it's worth noting that my own family could use a little dispassionate and careful thinking about what our family is doing and why.

The drive up here was amazing. Conversation in the van was filled with laughter, chatter, catch-up. The spiritual tone has been set high - the van trip up was filled with men sharing their recent stories and willing to start the trip right. I couldn't be more thankful for them all.

We broke records today! We got here, Jasper Campground by daylight. Daylight! I don't think I've ever seen Mt Robson by daylight (pictured above) much less our actual campground. Tomorrow the riding begins. We each take turns driving the sag wagon. I drew the shortest straw. I drive tomorrow.