<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336</id><updated>2011-11-27T08:12:48.367-05:00</updated><category term='parenting'/><category term='reflections'/><category term='sabbath'/><category term='eli'/><category term='ethiopia'/><category term='church planting'/><category term='esther'/><category term='jesus'/><category term='detroit'/><category term='leadership'/><category term='apple'/><category term='family'/><title type='text'>The Pool Party</title><subtitle type='html'>reflections from our life</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>161</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3019867158000050459</id><published>2011-10-14T08:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-14T08:52:59.518-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ogallala</title><content type='html'>My Dad's goin' to Ogallala&lt;br /&gt;I can feel it&lt;br /&gt;He's going&lt;br /&gt;He'll travel over the rolling hills and dusty plains&lt;br /&gt;His eyes seeing the land he's dreamed of since youth&lt;br /&gt;He'll see that farmland&lt;br /&gt;He'll trace those roots&lt;br /&gt;He'll find that church that his father's family from Scotland settled into &lt;br /&gt;He'll drink in the grasslands&lt;br /&gt;He'll milk those cows&lt;br /&gt;He'll feed their young&lt;br /&gt;He's goin' to Ogallala&lt;br /&gt;Oh River of plenty&lt;br /&gt;He'll be who he was meant to be&lt;br /&gt;Jumping in that water as if a boy&lt;br /&gt;Floating in the sun's rays glistening wet&lt;br /&gt;Just bobbing in the quiet&lt;br /&gt;Joy resting in his head&lt;br /&gt;The face of a man now smiling&lt;br /&gt;As one who's found his home&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3019867158000050459?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3019867158000050459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3019867158000050459' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3019867158000050459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3019867158000050459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/10/ogallala.html' title='Ogallala'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-8235138282131974455</id><published>2011-04-18T13:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T13:58:01.050-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ponderings of the Heart</title><content type='html'>Twin moons of blue look up at me&lt;br /&gt;Waiting has ceased with sweet closure&lt;br /&gt;A new abandon of joy has been born&lt;br /&gt;I ponder with Mary at what a savior you are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In wonder, recalling the dove you sent down&lt;br /&gt;Cascading over the son, love soaked with pleasure &lt;br /&gt;Sleep announces its end with a smile and a noise&lt;br /&gt;I awaken each day and send my own dove&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sacrifice arrives like a much anticipated book&lt;br /&gt;Comprehension of this gift escapes me&lt;br /&gt;I hide away each moment in the vault of my heart&lt;br /&gt;Sweetness reaches out to caress my face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sending out, releasing, letting go&lt;br /&gt;New seasons bring new meanings to familiar words&lt;br /&gt;Creation embarked with the three intertwined&lt;br /&gt;Was he easier to send having that time of delight?&lt;br /&gt;A kernal of wheat is grasped in the hand &lt;br /&gt;Many seeds hoped for&lt;br /&gt;Certain deaths to die&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-8235138282131974455?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/8235138282131974455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=8235138282131974455' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8235138282131974455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8235138282131974455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/04/ponderings-of-heart.html' title='Ponderings of the Heart'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-2713868983188943491</id><published>2011-03-30T08:57:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T12:28:17.940-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Granny and PaPa</title><content type='html'>I drove up their driveway this week&lt;br /&gt;In a closet of memory that's been kept shut&lt;br /&gt;Grief opened the door to risk a peek&lt;br /&gt;I saw sun bouncing off fresh blacktop&lt;br /&gt;Showing up in our old Pontiac station wagon &lt;br /&gt;My mom and us three kids&lt;br /&gt;That driveway meant salvation&lt;br /&gt;We would run out, estatic for a place&lt;br /&gt;A refuge and hole to burrow and be &lt;br /&gt;The sunporch, jujubee's, cookie jar and old cast iron sewing table&lt;br /&gt;Granny's antique doll, jewelry and nail polish, the shed and PaPa's creek and garden &lt;br /&gt;All signposts of relief&lt;br /&gt;A brief layover in a village void of&lt;br /&gt;Alcohol&lt;br /&gt;I never knew until now that they saved my life&lt;br /&gt;Taking naps with PaPa&lt;br /&gt;The smell of his sweater as I lay my cheek on his chest &lt;br /&gt;The touch and feel of a Father&lt;br /&gt;356-5429&lt;br /&gt;A number not dialed in over twenty years &lt;br /&gt;It's retrieval so instinctual&lt;br /&gt;Like milk in it's place on the fridge door &lt;br /&gt;Oh, to brush now finger over numbers and press down...&lt;br /&gt;I'd tell you thank you&lt;br /&gt;PaPa, for the quarters and dollars and trips to the park&lt;br /&gt;For Yankee Doodle Dandy&lt;br /&gt;For your guardian eyes, watching and perpetually pacing and tracing our footsteps through play &lt;br /&gt;I'd hear your stories and ask and listen more&lt;br /&gt;Granny, you birthed a stillborn son and buried a daughter &lt;br /&gt;Cathy was her name&lt;br /&gt;Your childhood had you webbed in it's own alcohol&lt;br /&gt;Nightmare&lt;br /&gt;Did you know you could name your son and grieve his death?&lt;br /&gt;Or was that sorrow shoved down too in a pit named forgotten and no more?&lt;br /&gt;I see why the yarn of control had you wound up in such a tight ball&lt;br /&gt;I'd want to gently snip through those stitches of a heart so bound and sewn in pain&lt;br /&gt;And allow the space for the beat to begin it's pulse again&lt;br /&gt;You called me your angel&lt;br /&gt;I think you were mine&lt;br /&gt;And, I would give anything to drive up again down that winding road&lt;br /&gt;That led to your house&lt;br /&gt;On Brainard Street&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-2713868983188943491?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/2713868983188943491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=2713868983188943491' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2713868983188943491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2713868983188943491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/03/granny-and-papa.html' title='Granny and PaPa'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-4327950762769537887</id><published>2011-03-10T09:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T09:07:30.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can Churches Learn From Microbreweries?</title><content type='html'>I think it goes without saying that microbreweries, and the craft beers they produce, are huge right now.&amp;nbsp; Michigan boasts a rapidly growing micro-brew industry and it seems like any medium size town will have a microbrewery.&amp;nbsp; Even the big beer execs have seen the trend and they are marketing their own versions of "craft beers."&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes them special?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Microbreweries are almost universally seen to be good for the local community.&amp;nbsp; They encourage a neighborhood sensibility and hometown pride.&amp;nbsp; They are thought to encourage economic vitality and stimulate local artistry and creativity.&amp;nbsp; Then there's the craft brews themselves.&amp;nbsp; Typically local sourced and always locally made.&amp;nbsp; Each batch crafted with attention to the distinctive details of its particular flavors.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there anything churches could learn from here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can churches be widely regarded as good for the local community?&amp;nbsp; What if churches encouraged a sense of hometown camaraderie and pride?&amp;nbsp; What if churches contributed to the local economic health and nurtured creativity and artistry?&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what if churches made disciples, followers of Jesus - our "product" - the same way microbreweries crafted beer?&amp;nbsp; What if churches developed more homegrown disciples - locally sourced and produced - instead of relying so heavily on imports from other churches?&amp;nbsp; What if pastors and church leaders crafted followers of Jesus with careful attention to the qualities of each person (or each small group batch?) so that its distinctive flavors could be developed and savored?&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Might God be pleased?&amp;nbsp; And the world too?&amp;nbsp; And might we enjoy the process along the way, as a master craft brewer must surely enjoy his or her work?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would it take to do this?&amp;nbsp; And are we interested?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-4327950762769537887?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/4327950762769537887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=4327950762769537887' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4327950762769537887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4327950762769537887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/03/can-churches-learn-from-microbreweries.html' title='Can Churches Learn From Microbreweries?'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3436687949411717457</id><published>2011-01-23T13:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T13:50:04.428-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jan. 2nd (part two)</title><content type='html'>I haven't felt this alive in years&lt;br /&gt;Driving through the Ethiopian countryside&lt;br /&gt;I am transported&lt;br /&gt;This is the Tuscany of Africa&lt;br /&gt;I ride as a guest&lt;br /&gt;Watching flashes of glory pass by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTx2RgosMqI/AAAAAAAAAl8/528l9wcYRVw/s1600/DSC_2901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="214" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTx2RgosMqI/AAAAAAAAAl8/528l9wcYRVw/s320/DSC_2901.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3436687949411717457?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3436687949411717457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3436687949411717457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3436687949411717457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3436687949411717457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/jan-2nd-part-two.html' title='Jan. 2nd (part two)'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTx2RgosMqI/AAAAAAAAAl8/528l9wcYRVw/s72-c/DSC_2901.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7927685217381174552</id><published>2011-01-23T13:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T17:33:16.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jan. 2nd</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTx3yp-MSNI/AAAAAAAAAmA/WbTigrUeeo4/s1600/IMG_2068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTx3yp-MSNI/AAAAAAAAAmA/WbTigrUeeo4/s320/IMG_2068.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Birthday wishes for me&lt;br /&gt;A children's choir honoring our visit with their voices in Amharic worship&lt;br /&gt;Buna entata (coffee with milk) at our breakfast &lt;br /&gt;Coffee so good- my mouth sang a new song&lt;br /&gt;Our son gently stroking the hair and face of the most striking Ethiopian girl sitting next to us&lt;br /&gt;The church at Mugar serving back to us the bread we had brought &lt;br /&gt;to share with them&lt;br /&gt;And not allowing us to leave without first serving us more coffee&lt;br /&gt;I drank it without cream or milk and could have had five more&lt;br /&gt;Our friend Tsegaye praying over Jim and me&lt;br /&gt;Kneeling down and grasping our feet and weeping his heart for us to God&lt;br /&gt;My son praying with us over two women for Jesus to break through&lt;br /&gt;the chains in their lives &lt;br /&gt;A constant thoughtfulness toward us that was as natural to these African men as nursing infants&lt;br /&gt;with their mothers &lt;br /&gt;I am wordless to tell the story of this grace&lt;br /&gt;My senses and knitted frame have been blanketed in the warm embrace of a people so lovely&lt;br /&gt;So beautiful&lt;br /&gt;I stand changed as a new year dawns&lt;br /&gt;I rise with the pink and orange and yellow hues of the sun&lt;br /&gt;I lay out arms stretched and palms supine&lt;br /&gt;To bake in its light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTx4GWquV0I/AAAAAAAAAmE/jrV3zg071Lk/s1600/IMG_2066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTx4GWquV0I/AAAAAAAAAmE/jrV3zg071Lk/s320/IMG_2066.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7927685217381174552?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7927685217381174552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7927685217381174552' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7927685217381174552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7927685217381174552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/jan-2nd.html' title='Jan. 2nd'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTx3yp-MSNI/AAAAAAAAAmA/WbTigrUeeo4/s72-c/IMG_2068.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7407287294104975202</id><published>2011-01-23T13:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T13:34:00.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friendship</title><content type='html'>An African woman surprised me today&lt;br /&gt;She wore a flowered dress with a white shawl&lt;br /&gt;She came to our gathering at her church building &lt;br /&gt;I called those up for prayer who needed healing&lt;br /&gt;The Spirit led her forward&lt;br /&gt;We prayed and prayed&lt;br /&gt;Our hands on her shoulder and head&lt;br /&gt;She cried tears of God's mercy and&lt;br /&gt;Presence &lt;br /&gt;And God spoke to her&lt;br /&gt;I told her he was giving her the new name&lt;br /&gt;of Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;I told her he wanted to take away her pain and shame from her past&lt;br /&gt;He wanted her to be a leader and mentor to younger women &lt;br /&gt;In wisdom, purity and truth&lt;br /&gt;She spoke no English and I no Amharic&lt;br /&gt;Yet her tears told me that she heard&lt;br /&gt;As I kissed and hugged her as we left &lt;br /&gt;I felt a profound rush of intimacy&lt;br /&gt;A gift of lift and flight&lt;br /&gt;From a woman I'll most likely&lt;br /&gt;Never see again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTx0fOEcR5I/AAAAAAAAAl4/3xUxqXh_jw0/s1600/IMG_2027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTx0fOEcR5I/AAAAAAAAAl4/3xUxqXh_jw0/s320/IMG_2027.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7407287294104975202?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7407287294104975202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7407287294104975202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7407287294104975202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7407287294104975202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/friendship.html' title='Friendship'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTx0fOEcR5I/AAAAAAAAAl4/3xUxqXh_jw0/s72-c/IMG_2027.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7332452684430285458</id><published>2011-01-23T13:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T13:30:20.538-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Paradox</title><content type='html'>Sitting up late in a rural cafe&lt;br /&gt;Shay, buna and macchiato&lt;br /&gt;Elias brings out his Connect Four&lt;br /&gt;And engages a hovering group of Ethiopian men&lt;br /&gt;He coaches them using his Amharic&lt;br /&gt;They marvel just as much at the game as they do to an&lt;br /&gt;almost 8 year old blond haired white boy with glasses &lt;br /&gt;All the while the Ethiopian version of "American Idol" is showing in&lt;br /&gt;The background&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTxziCK9DwI/AAAAAAAAAl0/yIC2vecJT9A/s1600/IMG_1648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTxziCK9DwI/AAAAAAAAAl0/yIC2vecJT9A/s320/IMG_1648.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7332452684430285458?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7332452684430285458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7332452684430285458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7332452684430285458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7332452684430285458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/paradox.html' title='Paradox'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTxziCK9DwI/AAAAAAAAAl0/yIC2vecJT9A/s72-c/IMG_1648.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-2298108355737773539</id><published>2011-01-22T07:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T07:50:23.074-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mt. Menagusha</title><content type='html'>We pass by two "very known mountains" on our journey to Mugar&lt;br /&gt;This from Hailu, our guide &lt;br /&gt;"Eli, look, a mountain" we say&lt;br /&gt;"Climb" says Elijah &lt;br /&gt;I could tell he wouldn't stop asking&lt;br /&gt;His drive to climb fuels his living flesh and muscle&lt;br /&gt;"Tell the Lord your desire to climb" I say &lt;br /&gt;"He will make a place for that"&lt;br /&gt;I watch him bow his head&lt;br /&gt;His yearning tempered by waiting prayer&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-2298108355737773539?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/2298108355737773539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=2298108355737773539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2298108355737773539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2298108355737773539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/mt-menagusha.html' title='Mt. Menagusha'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-1734149924318773022</id><published>2011-01-22T07:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T07:40:46.833-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sorrow</title><content type='html'>I wept my way through rural Ethiopia&lt;br /&gt;Through Minke, Minare, Koche, Hella, Mugar and Holeta&lt;br /&gt;Even in Addis &lt;br /&gt;Weeping for every tiny foot caked in wet mud&lt;br /&gt;For every open sore assaulting a child's mouth&lt;br /&gt;Weeping for the smell of poverty&lt;br /&gt;That invades air and morsel and sheet&lt;br /&gt;For cough and disease and exposed need&lt;br /&gt;I wept&lt;br /&gt;Wept for myself who struggled to touch infected skin and layer of filth&lt;br /&gt;Wept for fear of stepping in&lt;br /&gt;To love's sorrow&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-1734149924318773022?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/1734149924318773022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=1734149924318773022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1734149924318773022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1734149924318773022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/sorrow.html' title='Sorrow'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-238980900061395730</id><published>2011-01-22T07:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T07:37:40.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Food</title><content type='html'>I now know what Jesus meant when he told his disciples&lt;br /&gt;"I have food you know nothing about" &lt;br /&gt;I had to wait to eat in Ethiopia&lt;br /&gt;Eating is communal there&lt;br /&gt;You can't get your coffee to go&lt;br /&gt;And there's no pulling out your Clif bar unless you have 8 or 9 to share&lt;br /&gt;As I prayed for the timing of food&lt;br /&gt;While descending a mountain at 10,000 feet&lt;br /&gt;To a church in the valley below&lt;br /&gt;I put on the restraint of waiting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTrPK7xurqI/AAAAAAAAAls/OHz2MtuNGt8/s1600/IMG_1888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTrPK7xurqI/AAAAAAAAAls/OHz2MtuNGt8/s320/IMG_1888.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The line was not long&lt;br /&gt;My food was the ripe song of African chants&lt;br /&gt;The washed faces of gladness&lt;br /&gt;And the still sunrise of thanksgivings&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;My greedy stomach still cried for bite and swallow&lt;br /&gt;Yet I was fed by the man from Nazareth&lt;br /&gt;Only with hunger forced upon me&lt;br /&gt;Was I able to rest in the company of satiation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTrPYWSF6cI/AAAAAAAAAlw/piJH1M8BNGY/s1600/IMG_1902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTrPYWSF6cI/AAAAAAAAAlw/piJH1M8BNGY/s320/IMG_1902.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-238980900061395730?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/238980900061395730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=238980900061395730' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/238980900061395730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/238980900061395730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-food.html' title='My Food'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTrPK7xurqI/AAAAAAAAAls/OHz2MtuNGt8/s72-c/IMG_1888.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-5901701870515532303</id><published>2011-01-21T07:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T08:11:09.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Under Developed Country</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTl3XOqoHRI/AAAAAAAAAlk/w2l8UdqqcQw/s1600/IMG_1945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTl3XOqoHRI/AAAAAAAAAlk/w2l8UdqqcQw/s320/IMG_1945.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A sign reads "Ministry of Water"&lt;br /&gt;No wonder&lt;br /&gt;Water runs one day, the next day dry&lt;br /&gt;Bottled water purchased daily like lattes in the U.S.&lt;br /&gt;I find myself praying for water to wash and bathe&lt;br /&gt;Thankful when it comes even in frigid cold&lt;br /&gt;Singing hallelujah's when it's hot&lt;br /&gt;My son finds some hanging laundry&lt;br /&gt;He starts to engage with it for distracted play&lt;br /&gt;I explain the differences in what we have&lt;br /&gt;And, what is left bereft here&lt;br /&gt;Yet it is I who feel bereft&lt;br /&gt;My heart is opening&lt;br /&gt;They are first world in smile and courtesy&lt;br /&gt;Service and presence&lt;br /&gt;I hope to dig my own well back home&lt;br /&gt;Learning to pump and carry and pour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTl2pCjq7aI/AAAAAAAAAlg/TwAh4wDySPA/s1600/IMG_1911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTl2pCjq7aI/AAAAAAAAAlg/TwAh4wDySPA/s320/IMG_1911.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-5901701870515532303?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5901701870515532303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=5901701870515532303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5901701870515532303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5901701870515532303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/under-developed-country.html' title='Under Developed Country'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTl3XOqoHRI/AAAAAAAAAlk/w2l8UdqqcQw/s72-c/IMG_1945.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-954526568190958954</id><published>2011-01-21T07:01:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T17:57:50.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Stirring</title><content type='html'>We came into town&lt;br /&gt;To a schoolroom with dual purpose and use&lt;br /&gt;I stepped onto plush carpet of red mud and damp wood &lt;br /&gt;Our entrance ensued a sudden clapping like the chorus of the heavenly host singing to the&lt;br /&gt;Shepherds&lt;br /&gt;The rawness of emotion crept behind me like the tiptoe of wind&lt;br /&gt;As I looked down at 40 little faces&lt;br /&gt;Hallowed, hungry eyes&lt;br /&gt;Packed on benches in a space the size of our son's bedroom&lt;br /&gt;My heart was suspended from the work of a beat &lt;br /&gt;They were clapping for us&lt;br /&gt;They had waited for us&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTl1iWMmFyI/AAAAAAAAAlc/NBAc5XMe18A/s1600/IMG_1866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTl1iWMmFyI/AAAAAAAAAlc/NBAc5XMe18A/s320/IMG_1866.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="goog_1657669380"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="goog_1657669381"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-954526568190958954?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/954526568190958954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=954526568190958954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/954526568190958954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/954526568190958954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/stirring.html' title='A Stirring'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTl1iWMmFyI/AAAAAAAAAlc/NBAc5XMe18A/s72-c/IMG_1866.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6170610538782882794</id><published>2011-01-20T07:01:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T07:10:40.563-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetry</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTgjq0PLimI/AAAAAAAAAlI/A7Q4dP3QxCo/s1600/IMG_1873.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTgjq0PLimI/AAAAAAAAAlI/A7Q4dP3QxCo/s320/IMG_1873.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting in the back of our Land Cruiser&lt;br /&gt;Three Ethiopian men in front&lt;br /&gt;Concerned for our comfort&lt;br /&gt;Refusing pleas to share our seat&lt;br /&gt;I'm reminded of how I haven't written poetry in almost 5 years&lt;br /&gt;A desert of stifled thought&lt;br /&gt;The words now run ahead of me&lt;br /&gt;I can't keep up&lt;br /&gt;Surprised by milk and honey&lt;br /&gt;Sprinting to the promised land of home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTgj03PEn4I/AAAAAAAAAlM/uvMZeycjaOA/s1600/IMG_1858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTgj03PEn4I/AAAAAAAAAlM/uvMZeycjaOA/s320/IMG_1858.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6170610538782882794?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6170610538782882794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6170610538782882794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6170610538782882794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6170610538782882794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/poetry_20.html' title='Poetry'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTgjq0PLimI/AAAAAAAAAlI/A7Q4dP3QxCo/s72-c/IMG_1873.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7719985069346725105</id><published>2011-01-20T06:38:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T07:11:05.620-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Prima Cafe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTglgmxbCMI/AAAAAAAAAlU/1qGrGCs7kKQ/s1600/IMG_1942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTglgmxbCMI/AAAAAAAAAlU/1qGrGCs7kKQ/s320/IMG_1942.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Downtown Addis "22"&lt;br /&gt;Espresso doused over hot frothy milk&lt;br /&gt;Streaming down this delicacy like chocolate syrup over ice cream&lt;br /&gt;I ordered two&lt;br /&gt;Zena I wish you were here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTgk78yIlPI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/qanxtwh-RpY/s1600/IMG_1813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTgk78yIlPI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/qanxtwh-RpY/s320/IMG_1813.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7719985069346725105?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7719985069346725105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7719985069346725105' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7719985069346725105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7719985069346725105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/prima-cafe.html' title='Prima Cafe'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTglgmxbCMI/AAAAAAAAAlU/1qGrGCs7kKQ/s72-c/IMG_1942.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-56100870313058148</id><published>2011-01-20T06:31:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T07:12:14.654-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Coffee</title><content type='html'>We sat in an apartment smaller than our&lt;br /&gt;Living room&lt;br /&gt;The smell of roasted coffee and heated milk wafted into&lt;br /&gt;My very pulse&lt;br /&gt;We ate grain fired and browned and drank the rich dark drink&lt;br /&gt;My caverns under earth and day were seen&lt;br /&gt;Time given for time itself to know and be known&lt;br /&gt;Kids playing Connect Four&lt;br /&gt;The exchange of relationship lingered like a drawn out candle&lt;br /&gt;The wax of communion dripping down&lt;br /&gt;Warmth of friend and fortune&lt;br /&gt;Hospitality like I'd never imagined&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to leave&lt;br /&gt;Ethiopia &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTghFRqLaZI/AAAAAAAAAlA/P7-V5ePbAKY/s1600/IMG_2042.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564233714139621778" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTghFRqLaZI/AAAAAAAAAlA/P7-V5ePbAKY/s320/IMG_2042.JPG" style="display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-56100870313058148?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/56100870313058148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=56100870313058148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/56100870313058148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/56100870313058148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/coffee.html' title='Coffee'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTghFRqLaZI/AAAAAAAAAlA/P7-V5ePbAKY/s72-c/IMG_2042.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-651190470478012174</id><published>2011-01-19T20:49:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T07:13:25.195-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dec. 30th</title><content type='html'>Joy arrived (late-comers and early ones)&lt;br /&gt;Wedding clothes on&lt;br /&gt;Some exquisite with fine material, shining golds&lt;br /&gt;And deep azures&lt;br /&gt;Others mud-stained&lt;br /&gt;Joy dressed with oozing eyes&lt;br /&gt;And the eagerness of poverty&lt;br /&gt;Lens peeking in&lt;br /&gt;For a matrimony&lt;br /&gt;Joy strewn over the water-logged ceiling with&lt;br /&gt;Streamers and half blown balloons&lt;br /&gt;A processional of joy&lt;br /&gt;In song, girl, boy, candle and beaded basket&lt;br /&gt;Joy encapsulated inside piercing expression of an Ethiopian man&lt;br /&gt;In love&lt;br /&gt;An exhortation wrapped in joy&lt;br /&gt;Gift of word and wisdom&lt;br /&gt;Joy in a face so bright and lit with the flame of&lt;br /&gt;Contentment&lt;br /&gt;Joy in a drum beat and African chant&lt;br /&gt;Joy's generosity laid out at the feet of the Beloved&lt;br /&gt;Joy bestowing a new identity&lt;br /&gt;Every kiss, greeting and hand clasped&lt;br /&gt;All from joy&lt;br /&gt;All for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTeVHVfKNeI/AAAAAAAAAk4/js6fCJ1ZXuQ/s1600/IMG_1767.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564079817898997218" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTeVHVfKNeI/AAAAAAAAAk4/js6fCJ1ZXuQ/s320/IMG_1767.JPG" style="float: right; height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-651190470478012174?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/651190470478012174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=651190470478012174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/651190470478012174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/651190470478012174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/dec-30th.html' title='Dec. 30th'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTeVHVfKNeI/AAAAAAAAAk4/js6fCJ1ZXuQ/s72-c/IMG_1767.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-464188347116646946</id><published>2011-01-19T20:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T07:14:29.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First Flight</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTePXJwEgfI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/ZYFL5qnix2g/s1600/Pool%2B241-40.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564073492556841458" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTePXJwEgfI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/ZYFL5qnix2g/s320/Pool%2B241-40.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 213px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tears&lt;br /&gt;For my girl&lt;br /&gt;I love my girl Lord&lt;br /&gt;You, only you know&lt;br /&gt;You know how much I have already failed a four year old&lt;br /&gt;And, how much emotion for her lies beneath the thin layer of ice on the&lt;br /&gt;River&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to start the trip out leaving these tears behind&lt;br /&gt;And here they are flowing out&lt;br /&gt;I am thinking of Eden Joy&lt;br /&gt;Her sweet face&lt;br /&gt;Waving goodbye to me from the window&lt;br /&gt;The signed fingers saying "I love you"&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I feel like I am on one side of the river&lt;br /&gt;And she on the other&lt;br /&gt;Yet the river is wide&lt;br /&gt;And it's banks are lined with wildflowers and rushes&lt;br /&gt;Reeds and sunlight&lt;br /&gt;Precious coves of sand&lt;br /&gt;Places to sit and wonder&lt;br /&gt;Water spiders dancing&lt;br /&gt;For my baby&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-464188347116646946?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/464188347116646946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=464188347116646946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/464188347116646946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/464188347116646946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/first-flight.html' title='First Flight'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTePXJwEgfI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/ZYFL5qnix2g/s72-c/Pool%2B241-40.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3878541837427886601</id><published>2011-01-19T19:24:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T21:33:50.778-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Poem for You</title><content type='html'>I wrote this while transitioning continents.  Its of someone I love dearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTeRf4h33sI/AAAAAAAAAkg/xK94Cvc0UNI/s1600/IMG_4426.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564075841575968450" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTeRf4h33sI/AAAAAAAAAkg/xK94Cvc0UNI/s320/IMG_4426.jpg" style="float: right; height: 214px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought of you today&lt;br /&gt;I have your earrings on&lt;br /&gt;Dangling jewels of recollection&lt;br /&gt;An adornment of friendship&lt;br /&gt;Quiet acceptance&lt;br /&gt;Waiting love&lt;br /&gt;Calm strength&lt;br /&gt;Hoping through seasons&lt;br /&gt;Forbearance&lt;br /&gt;These things I cherish in you&lt;br /&gt;I wear you with me&lt;br /&gt;I think of why people love you so much-&lt;br /&gt;And I smile&lt;br /&gt;When loneliness hits like a sudden shift in&lt;br /&gt;Weather&lt;br /&gt;And I'm left with the raw need for the&lt;br /&gt;Rain that didn't seep deep enough&lt;br /&gt;I remember the gift of you&lt;br /&gt;Right next door&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3878541837427886601?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3878541837427886601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3878541837427886601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3878541837427886601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3878541837427886601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2011/01/poem-for-you.html' title='Poem for You'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/TTeRf4h33sI/AAAAAAAAAkg/xK94Cvc0UNI/s72-c/IMG_4426.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-5210948796943487710</id><published>2009-04-29T12:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T12:42:19.214-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI*MTAyMzI4Mzk3NCZwdD*xMjQxMDIzMzI*NTQyJnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmdD*mbz1hYjMyMjg4MWMwNmU*OTZmOWNjNThmODFkZjgwZmQ1NyZvZj*w.gif" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/soccer ball/zamuel069/images7.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i609.photobucket.com/albums/tt172/zamuel069/images7.jpg" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-5210948796943487710?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5210948796943487710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=5210948796943487710' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5210948796943487710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5210948796943487710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-1780263197156968463</id><published>2009-01-16T09:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T09:42:24.954-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Proud to live in Detroit!</title><content type='html'>Friends,&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally back on my blog, after a long winter of absence.  And I'm here to post a story of why I'm happy to live in Detroit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the &lt;a href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2009/writers/the_bonus/01/07/detroit/index.html"&gt;article&lt;/a&gt;, by Detroit's own, Mitch Albom.  Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-1780263197156968463?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/1780263197156968463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=1780263197156968463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1780263197156968463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1780263197156968463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2009/01/proud-to-live-in-detroit.html' title='Proud to live in Detroit!'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-4178453777079722201</id><published>2008-11-05T11:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T11:14:01.915-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Thoughtful Words on Civility</title><content type='html'>Okay, so it is a bit ironic to post this now that the election is over.  But we're still going to have to live together.  So maybe this will help.  &lt;a href="http://www.vineyardcolumbus.org/resources/congregational_letters/archives/2008/200805.asp"&gt;Some thoughts on civility in the church and culture&lt;/a&gt;, by Rich Nathan, pastor of the Columbus Vineyard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-4178453777079722201?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/4178453777079722201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=4178453777079722201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4178453777079722201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4178453777079722201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/11/some-thoughtful-words-on-civility.html' title='Some Thoughtful Words on Civility'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-2020773771427209813</id><published>2008-11-04T07:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T10:57:23.655-05:00</updated><title type='text'>not one but two</title><content type='html'>"Ask and you shall receive."  That's what Jesus said.  When I mentioned an interest in learning more about George Washington, I hadn't expected it to be an application of that.  I got one recommendation from one friend, who lent me the book (&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_b_0_22?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&amp;amp;field-keywords=rediscovering+george+washington&amp;amp;x=0&amp;amp;y=0&amp;amp;sprefix=rediscovering+george+w"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Founding Father: Rediscovering George Washington&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, by Richard Brookhiser).  And then I found in my mailbox a day later a copy of Richard Alden's, &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/George-Washington-Biography-Southern/dp/0807121266/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1225802330&amp;amp;sr=1-2"&gt;George Washington&lt;/a&gt;.  They both look good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus was right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-2020773771427209813?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/2020773771427209813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=2020773771427209813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2020773771427209813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2020773771427209813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/11/not-one-but-two.html' title='not one but two'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-367283368241935953</id><published>2008-10-27T12:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T12:07:47.846-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Founding Father?</title><content type='html'>George Washington is a bit of an enigma to me.  I mean, we all know he is considered great, and the father of our country.  But still, for all that, I realize I don't really know too much about him.  Not in an adult sense.  I love Lincoln.  Lincoln seems self-evidently a great president, a great man, yet Washington, while I'm sure worthy, is opaque to me.  &lt;div&gt;Any thoughts on the Lincoln-Washington comparison?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 80px; height: 124px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SQXnGup52FI/AAAAAAAAAjk/U7kKlW0GOvo/s200/51826687_a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261865842441312338" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm realizing this when reading, &lt;a href="http://www.borders.com/online/store/TitleDetail?sku=0375405445"&gt;Founding Brothers&lt;/a&gt;, by Joseph Ellis, a book I saw recommended at my local library.  It is rather good, almost sneakily so.  And it has made me realize I'd like to learn more about Washington in the same way that I have recently explored Lincoln.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Any suggestions on a good Washington biography?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-367283368241935953?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/367283368241935953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=367283368241935953' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/367283368241935953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/367283368241935953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/10/founding-father.html' title='Founding Father?'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SQXnGup52FI/AAAAAAAAAjk/U7kKlW0GOvo/s72-c/51826687_a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-4525394767788956653</id><published>2008-10-16T18:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T19:09:37.354-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Michael Beschloss: Hippest Historian Alive?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SPfJqojyPkI/AAAAAAAAAjU/wwT1N4EKwlI/s1600-h/beschloss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SPfJqojyPkI/AAAAAAAAAjU/wwT1N4EKwlI/s200/beschloss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257892824257543746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember Palmer Joss, the super-cool scientist played by Matthew McConaughey in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Contact&lt;/span&gt;?  He's the Presidential Science Adviser who's so cool and hip you know he gets autographs outside the White House and at Harvard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Michael Beschloss, presidential historian, would be the real-world Palmer Joss of History.  You may have seen Beschloss on PBS.  I have.  Best I can tell, he's provided commentary for the presidential debates in the last three elections - beginning as third chair historian for Bush v. Gore, then second chair for Bush v. Kerry, and now NPR's first chair presidential historian for the current contest.  He's handsome, dresses cool, has an ususual voice, always smiles, and regularly hasn't something insightful to say that actually has to do with history.  But not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;too&lt;/span&gt; "historical."  Accessible history ... know what I mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael Beschloss, friends, quite possibly the hippest historian alive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-4525394767788956653?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/4525394767788956653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=4525394767788956653' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4525394767788956653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4525394767788956653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/10/michael-beschloss-hippest-historian.html' title='Michael Beschloss: Hippest Historian Alive?'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SPfJqojyPkI/AAAAAAAAAjU/wwT1N4EKwlI/s72-c/beschloss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-5738663334332090389</id><published>2008-10-16T11:37:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T11:38:05.811-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm probably busy when ...</title><content type='html'>instead of blogging, I just update my Facebook status.  That's not good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-5738663334332090389?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5738663334332090389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=5738663334332090389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5738663334332090389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5738663334332090389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-probably-busy-when.html' title='I&apos;m probably busy when ...'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7964530447964074048</id><published>2008-09-28T22:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T22:10:45.217-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Dancing</title><content type='html'>Okay, so we were all a little loopy after the long Cause Conference weekend.  But we were having fun at the baptismal pizza party after the gathering on Sunday.  Watch Jeremy as he takes me down in head-to-head crazy Russian-style dancing competition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-43f91cf8d123c7f9" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D43f91cf8d123c7f9%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331367500%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D83D7C2265C5E570C50E38B8DCE6BB4426D064BCC.14C6FFE458965DF405C3B74018371884434762FA%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D43f91cf8d123c7f9%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DYSdocO9PAMveTjWG-jE5zibZdvU&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D43f91cf8d123c7f9%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331367500%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D83D7C2265C5E570C50E38B8DCE6BB4426D064BCC.14C6FFE458965DF405C3B74018371884434762FA%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D43f91cf8d123c7f9%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DYSdocO9PAMveTjWG-jE5zibZdvU&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7964530447964074048?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=43f91cf8d123c7f9&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7964530447964074048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7964530447964074048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7964530447964074048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7964530447964074048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/09/crazy-dancing.html' title='Crazy Dancing'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6482139046439897570</id><published>2008-09-28T21:59:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T22:01:07.772-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Church in the news ...</title><content type='html'>our church got a nod (albeit anonymously) recently in an online paper for our outreach at the AIDS Walk Detroit.  &lt;a href="http://royaloakvineyardchurch.blogspot.com/2008/09/read-all-about-it.html"&gt;read&lt;/a&gt; all about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6482139046439897570?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6482139046439897570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6482139046439897570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6482139046439897570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6482139046439897570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/09/church-in-news.html' title='Church in the news ...'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3141180135428833692</id><published>2008-09-13T19:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T19:08:35.756-04:00</updated><title type='text'>sink and soap for kids</title><content type='html'>so some of you may remember my comments (rant) about the sink and soap sized for kids.  well, today, my family relaxed at ikea for a while.  it was something to do during the rain - and with cheap, family-friend cafe to boot.  well, anyway, back to my point ... it turns out that ikea has solved the problem.  all my male readers will be familiar with the short-sized urinal - that one on the end that is just right for the little dudes in our midst.  well, it turns out that ikea realized they should have a short-sink too.  they've brought the little urinal concept to the world of sinks and had a regular style sink proportioned perfectly for kids.  genius!  well done, ikea!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3141180135428833692?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3141180135428833692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3141180135428833692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3141180135428833692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3141180135428833692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/09/sink-and-soap-for-kids.html' title='sink and soap for kids'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6178750989046238299</id><published>2008-09-12T06:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T06:25:33.284-04:00</updated><title type='text'>my week</title><content type='html'>i love paul's second letter to the corinthians.  i think chapters 3-6 are some of the best descriptions of what pastoral ministry is like.  and i think it describes my last week or two.  especially the first 10 verses of chapter six.  and maybe a bit of chapter four, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6178750989046238299?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6178750989046238299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6178750989046238299' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6178750989046238299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6178750989046238299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-week.html' title='my week'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6683407661078324440</id><published>2008-09-05T09:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T09:28:19.564-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good News</title><content type='html'>I've had opportunity recently to discover again afresh the goodness of Jesus and the life that he offers.  Recently I had need to ask forgiveness from some people I love.  I had come under conviction that something I had done was wrong.  My heart was heavy with my sense of sin.  So I confessed this and asked for forgiveness.  I was forgiven.  I know God forgives me.  And I now I feel at peace, with a light heart.  I no longer carry the burden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is good news.  We don't have to beat ourselves up or second-guess or anything like that.  "&lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?book=1Jo&amp;amp;chapter=1&amp;amp;version=NIV#9"&gt;If we confess our sins, God is faithful and just, and he will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.&lt;/a&gt;"  This is true.  And it is just one more facet in the beautiful gem that is God's good news in Jesus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6683407661078324440?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6683407661078324440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6683407661078324440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6683407661078324440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6683407661078324440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/09/good-news.html' title='The Good News'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-2459327881406982202</id><published>2008-08-27T09:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T09:17:16.407-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Following in Eli's Footsteps</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SLVTvlGL9NI/AAAAAAAAAZc/5Oh6xfxRLsc/s1600-h/IMG_9857.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SLVTvlGL9NI/AAAAAAAAAZc/5Oh6xfxRLsc/s200/IMG_9857.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239185818392458450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looks like Eden will be following in her Rocker Brother's footsteps. We don't call her Feli for nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-2459327881406982202?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/2459327881406982202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=2459327881406982202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2459327881406982202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2459327881406982202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/08/following-in-elis-footsteps_27.html' title='Following in Eli&apos;s Footsteps'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SLVTvlGL9NI/AAAAAAAAAZc/5Oh6xfxRLsc/s72-c/IMG_9857.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-8911856611175118990</id><published>2008-08-27T09:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T09:12:07.158-04:00</updated><title type='text'>haircuts</title><content type='html'>Ladies and Gentlemen,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eli and Esther have a new haircut.  This was Esther's first haircut. She did great at letting the woman cut her hair.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SLVShPs1zuI/AAAAAAAAAZM/UDfu-wdgFns/s1600-h/IMG_9879.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SLVShPs1zuI/AAAAAAAAAZM/UDfu-wdgFns/s200/IMG_9879.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239184472619208418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SLVShm3qSvI/AAAAAAAAAZU/3s6yyzWcopI/s1600-h/IMG_9883.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SLVShm3qSvI/AAAAAAAAAZU/3s6yyzWcopI/s200/IMG_9883.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239184478838606578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-8911856611175118990?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/8911856611175118990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=8911856611175118990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8911856611175118990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8911856611175118990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/08/haircuts.html' title='haircuts'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SLVShPs1zuI/AAAAAAAAAZM/UDfu-wdgFns/s72-c/IMG_9879.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-2915397379613380987</id><published>2008-08-22T11:33:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T11:39:56.112-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It might be hope</title><content type='html'>My father is coming to Ferndale this weekend.  In fact, in like 7 hours.  This is big.  I haven't seen him in 10 years and Megan has only met him at the wedding weekend festivities.  This'll be the first time he meets our kids.  I'm excited with a sense of anticipation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all began with a song.  Last month, there was like a two week stretch where every morning I would wake up with the Sara Groves song, "It might be hope" in my head.  (This actually happens a lot - I wake up with a song in my head almost every day.  That song will usually frame my worship that morning and is a way that God speaks to me.)  Every time I listened to the song I was really moved.  Like the 10th time this happened I stopped to ask myself - why?  The song describes a scene in which you walk into a room, look out the window and see something out there that inspires something in you, and you realize that what was just birthed in you was hope.  I realized that, in my mind's eye, I was seeing something out of my "window" that was birthing hope in me.  I'm pretty thick, but not that thick, so I asked myself (God?) the question, "what am I seeing out of my window?"  And I realized right away that what I was seeing was my father coming up my walkway to my house.  Voila!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It might be hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-2915397379613380987?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/2915397379613380987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=2915397379613380987' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2915397379613380987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2915397379613380987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/08/it-might-be-hope.html' title='It might be hope'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3599694703641406744</id><published>2008-08-18T13:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T14:02:44.946-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking for a church</title><content type='html'>So a few weeks ago, Megan told me a funny story about Eli.  They were talking and Eli proudly told Meg that he had become a follower of Jesus when he was one and a half.  "Wow, that's great, Eli!"  "Yeah," Eli responds.  "Well, that's a big decision.  What's next?"  Eli, thinking only a moment, returns, "I'll have to find a church."  Well, son, here's to hoping you find a good church!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3599694703641406744?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3599694703641406744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3599694703641406744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3599694703641406744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3599694703641406744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/08/looking-for-church.html' title='Looking for a church'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6299444370212538655</id><published>2008-08-18T13:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T13:58:47.189-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Truth in Advertising</title><content type='html'>Okay, so the new title picture is not actually of a member of the Pool Party.  It is my nephew, Lukas Polcaster, and he is fixin' to do one mean cannonball.  I think it captures the spirit of the Pool Party well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6299444370212538655?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6299444370212538655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6299444370212538655' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6299444370212538655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6299444370212538655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/08/truth-in-advertising.html' title='Truth in Advertising'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-85977796266891873</id><published>2008-08-15T09:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T09:08:47.379-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tooth Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SLVRhhZO-FI/AAAAAAAAAZE/O7iwBxQgl-o/s1600-h/IMG_9862.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SLVRhhZO-FI/AAAAAAAAAZE/O7iwBxQgl-o/s200/IMG_9862.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239183377857181778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other exciting news from the home front, Eli's first baby tooth came out yesterday while brushing his teeth.  Awesome!  The envelope, with tooth, will be going under his pillow tonight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-85977796266891873?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/85977796266891873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=85977796266891873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/85977796266891873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/85977796266891873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/08/tooth-out.html' title='Tooth Out'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SLVRhhZO-FI/AAAAAAAAAZE/O7iwBxQgl-o/s72-c/IMG_9862.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7461971390645831748</id><published>2008-08-14T06:44:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T07:07:12.642-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Three lines on our ultrasound ...</title><content type='html'>mean that its a girl!  That's right.  The Pool Party has made a definitive move to the more tender gender.  And, yes, our future wedding bills are on the rise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At our ultrasound appointment we learned that this most recent addition to the Pool Party is a little girl.  We were a little surprised, but not overmuch.  A good friend had had a strong early impression, that they believed was from God, that it was a girl, and we had paid attention to that.  So as much as daddy and son would have liked some more Y chromosome, we're delighted with the news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, our little girl is healthy and beautiful by all accounts.  Normal size and shape and beatings and throbbings of the appropriate organs.  Our baby is well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other news is that Megan is what they call &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;placenta previa.&lt;/span&gt;  That's just a fancy Latin way of saying is that the placenta is between the baby and the cervix, aka blocking the exit row.  The midwife tells us this is somewhat common early in pregnancy.  And she was at pains to tell us that in 80% of cases, it resolves itself.  Of course, the fact is, Megan's variety is the "worst" - total blockage, right in the middle of the cervix.  So ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One implication placenta previa is that if it doesn't resolve itself, Megan will need to have a C-section.  Which means no alternative birthing center.  This would be a disappointment, and it would be a more painful recovery, but c-section patients are required to stay in the hospital longer, so that would be a nice break from the chaos for her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A second implication is the "lifting ban."  The midwife has told her she isn't allowed to carry more than 10 lbs.  That means no lifting any of the kids.  It means she almost can't carry her purse!  This one is a bit more difficult.  However, through the use of strategically placed step stools in the van and bedrooms, along with some ingenious rope and pulley systems (kidding), the girls are able to get into their cribs and car seats with minimal effort.  If she's negligent in adhering to the ban, the pressure could produce internal bleeding, force bed rest (egads!), or induce early labor.  None of those are good.  So let's give Megan a hand with those heavy objects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there are several limitations on Megan's other physical activity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're excited about our little girl!  And we're hopeful to see God work.  And even if he doesn't, God is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7461971390645831748?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7461971390645831748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7461971390645831748' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7461971390645831748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7461971390645831748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/08/three-lines-on-our-ultrasound.html' title='Three lines on our ultrasound ...'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-807702871297021090</id><published>2008-08-11T13:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T13:45:48.559-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus' Popularity</title><content type='html'>So Megan and I went to see &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0468569/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Dark Knight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; this past Saturday night.  It was Megan's idea.  I thought it was pretty good, though I was a little underwhelmed.  I actually thought &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Batman Begins&lt;/span&gt; was darker.  Anyway, as I left the movie I got to thinking about how we like our heroes to be complicated.  Superman, Spiderman, Batman - all have come to have these complicated sides.  A darker side.  It makes them seem more human, perhaps, more accessible.  We even like this in our Presidents and other leading figures.  Not too much, of course, but enough to make them seem not fundamentally different from us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me wonder about Jesus.  Maybe this is why Jesus is unpopular with some people.  He isn't particularly complicated.  He doesn't ever have a dark side.  With Jesus, what you see is what you get.  I happen to see this as refreshing.  And I think it is what many people long for, even if they hope to bring down their (other) heroes with a more complicated character.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-807702871297021090?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/807702871297021090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=807702871297021090' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/807702871297021090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/807702871297021090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/08/jesus-popularity.html' title='Jesus&apos; Popularity'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-1180127613976113430</id><published>2008-08-11T13:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T13:33:31.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I thought they wanted to keep kids' hands clean?</title><content type='html'>While on my vacation out West, I had ample opportunity to observe loads of public restrooms.  I've continued my observations since that time.  Finally, after more than a month of taking notes, I'm ready to ask my question: "I thought they wanted us to keep our kids' hands clean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me back up.  My son loves to wash his hands after he does his business.  That's a good thing.  The rumors are always that most guys don't, so I'm glad he does.  He asks to wash his hands, without solicitation.  And here's what I observed, after visiting what must literally be like one hundred public facilities, from here to Idaho.  Probably 90% of the sinks in public restrooms were totally accessible by Eli, who is, admittedly, a little short for 5 and a 1/2.  He could totally reach the sinks, and loved the automatic ones.  But when it came to the soap, and I find this very interesting, I'd say that he could reach (without assistance) no more than 50% of the soap dispensers.  Why is that?  I find it very odd.  He loved the soap.  I would try to talk him into washing without soap sometimes, but he would have none of that shortcutting.  It was all the way for him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, if you, dear reader, happen to work for any organization connected to the lay-out and construction of public restrooms, please consider lowering your hand soaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I should say, by way of aside, that by the end of our trip, Eli finally learned to put his head all the way under those automatic hand-driers so that his hair would blow everywhere.  The discovery brought both of us great joy.  We were often late meeting mom at the van because of it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-1180127613976113430?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/1180127613976113430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=1180127613976113430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1180127613976113430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1180127613976113430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-thought-they-wanted-to-keep-kids.html' title='I thought they wanted to keep kids&apos; hands clean?'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7973279698063363657</id><published>2008-08-07T22:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T22:51:30.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One of the Best Movie Trailers Ever</title><content type='html'>Have you seen this movie?  &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0BY9cvgrP1c"&gt;The Apple&lt;/a&gt;.  This is good.  In the (paraphrased) words of the "Guilty Pleasures Movie" reviews on Moviefone - this is the best biblical sci-fi musical ever; of course, it is the only biblical sci-fi musical ever.  So that makes it the best.  And they're right, it is hard to get the songs out of your head.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7973279698063363657?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7973279698063363657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7973279698063363657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7973279698063363657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7973279698063363657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-of-best-movie-trailers-ever.html' title='One of the Best Movie Trailers Ever'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-527665765373865046</id><published>2008-08-07T09:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T10:08:29.672-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I have, I give ...</title><content type='html'>This morning as I was praying for the church, I felt like the Lord brought to my mind the verse in &lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?book=Act&amp;amp;chapter=3&amp;amp;version=NIV#top"&gt;Acts 3&lt;/a&gt; where Peter tells the crippled man at the Temple gate called Beautiful, "Silver and gold we do not have, but what we have, we give ... in the name of Jesus, get up and walk!"  And the man is healed and not only walks, but does a jig of joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to thinking about that.  What do we have to give?  Obviously, and I don't say this casually, we've got Jesus.  We know Jesus and we have a living relationship with Jesus.  We have an expectation that Jesus is on the move and that he wants to act and that if we ask, we can join in with him in his acting.  This is big.  It is no small thing.  We've also got love to give.  I'm continually amazed by the love in our church community, even when sometimes other attitudes are also present.  We like each other.  We love each other.  We love people.  We've got love to give.  Simply loving someone - extending your hand to help someone out, extending your heart to take someone's concerns into it, extending your ears to listen - is a powerful thing.  We've got love to give.  And there's a third thing.  We've got authenticity to give.  We're real people.  No pretentions.  No politics.  We're honest-hearted followers of Jesus trying to figure out God, and life with him and how to help the world.  That's a deep thing.  That is a gift we can give.  Trying to be true to ourselves, and true to God, and true to others, and true to what is right.  As a church community we can give these things away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you have to give?  Have you ever thought about it?  You may not have lots of money.  Or you might.  You may not have lots of experience praying for people, but you're really good at hugging people and helping them know they're loved.  You may have no training in preaching, but you're great at telling a story.  What do you have to give?  I invite you to give away what you have in the name of Jesus and see what Jesus will do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-527665765373865046?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/527665765373865046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=527665765373865046' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/527665765373865046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/527665765373865046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-i-have-i-give.html' title='What I have, I give ...'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3256762328445006204</id><published>2008-08-01T20:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T13:34:36.610-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Redman, we love you, but eat your heart out!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SJOrK1Hq5uI/AAAAAAAAAYw/GqmQY2pIfJ0/s1600-h/IMG_1646.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SJOrK1Hq5uI/AAAAAAAAAYw/GqmQY2pIfJ0/s200/IMG_1646.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229711794853570274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Elijah Pool, on guitar.  He's even learned to strike a pose like Redman.  And I mean, for real, he looks a lot like Redman, if you've ever seen him up close.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3256762328445006204?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3256762328445006204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3256762328445006204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3256762328445006204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3256762328445006204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/08/redman-we-love-you-but-eat-your-heart.html' title='Redman, we love you, but eat your heart out!'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SJOrK1Hq5uI/AAAAAAAAAYw/GqmQY2pIfJ0/s72-c/IMG_1646.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-5451512907052363742</id><published>2008-07-23T20:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T21:22:18.617-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Go West!</title><content type='html'>So after six days Up North with the whole Pool Party, a faction split off to head west.  The splinter group consisted of Megan, Eli and Jim, while the two girls stayed behind with Grandma and Grandpa, and a nearby Aunt Dawn.  After nearly 5000 miles of road-rage free (okay, mostly free) driving, we're home to tell the tale.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfU4wmdg5I/AAAAAAAAAYI/4tiFEKAaAkM/s1600-h/IMG_9671.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfU4wmdg5I/AAAAAAAAAYI/4tiFEKAaAkM/s200/IMG_9671.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226379964170732434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here we are at 11,000 feet, getting ready to cross over into Yellowstone National Park.  I love being in shorts standing in snow.  What a surreal joy.  As we drove the winding road up to this pass, Eli kept saying, at every new height, "These are the highest mountains I've ever seen.  This is the highest I've ever been, right, dad?"  He loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfU5RN6-OI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/bSw9tnzjGEE/s1600-h/IMG_9723.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfU5RN6-OI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/bSw9tnzjGEE/s200/IMG_9723.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226379972926175458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is how we cooked.  That really is my hand.  It isn't photoshopped in.  I really did successfully cook over an open flame for four nights in a row.  Without killing us or setting anything on fire (other than the s'mores, which Eli kept wanting to set on fire).  It was great.  Our friends gave us some organic meat packed right at the ranch.  You can gain a new delight in and appreciation for your food in a setting like this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfU5stf01I/AAAAAAAAAYY/UO73ET4FvBA/s1600-h/IMG_9740.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfU5stf01I/AAAAAAAAAYY/UO73ET4FvBA/s200/IMG_9740.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226379980306371410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eli climbing the big glacial deposit rocks that were scattered like giant play things all over the site where our mountain cabin was.  Yes, that is a tree that Eli is holding on to there.  I'm standing on a nearby rock.  We're probably like 10 feet off the ground.  Once I had scaled most of the rocks with Eli to ensure he knew what he was doing, we let him roam on his own.  He did great and had what I'm thinking must have been a time of his life experience.  He'd be outside for hours on end, climbing endlessly, interrupted only by his desire for me to come out and join him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfU58eFSgI/AAAAAAAAAYg/kXPHUN4fi7A/s1600-h/IMG_9750.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfU58eFSgI/AAAAAAAAAYg/kXPHUN4fi7A/s200/IMG_9750.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226379984536685058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Along the back edge of the mountain's cabin property was a little beat-down barbed wire fence that had obviously been stopped on numerous times since last we were there.  On the other side was National Forest land, open for exploring.  Which is just what we did.  Between two big rocks Eli laid out some big sticks to make a bridge, "across the crevasse."  I then held his hand and helped him cross it.  On the second time around I took his picture at the same time.  The smile in this picture is one of the most authentic I've ever seen him smile.  It nearly brings tears to my eyes to look at it again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfU6QXj1TI/AAAAAAAAAYo/R1kllhSROMk/s1600-h/IMG_9826.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfU6QXj1TI/AAAAAAAAAYo/R1kllhSROMk/s200/IMG_9826.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226379989878035762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Megan, in what she affectionately called her "Idaho Heaven Nest."  This is where Megan spent much of her time while the boys went out exploring.  It is also where Megan and I slept - on this screened in front porch that looked out on the forest and valley below.  Amazing.  My head was on the pillow near Megan's armpit, with my feet off camera, making an L.  The nights got a little nippy.  The last night we awoke to the sounds of coyote and/or wolves.  We all agree they were probably wolves, including Tri and Nancy.  Apparently they bayed every hour, though I only heard them around 5am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our friends Tri and Nancy have named their cabin, "Menuchah."  (&lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?book=Isa&amp;amp;chapter=32&amp;amp;version=NIV#18"&gt;Isaiah 32:18&lt;/a&gt;)  It means "divine dwelling places" or "resting places," which is exactly what it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-5451512907052363742?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5451512907052363742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=5451512907052363742' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5451512907052363742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5451512907052363742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/07/go-west.html' title='Go West!'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfU4wmdg5I/AAAAAAAAAYI/4tiFEKAaAkM/s72-c/IMG_9671.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-585442884297748941</id><published>2008-07-23T20:24:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T20:53:55.879-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Our recent trip Up North</title><content type='html'>Recently the whole Pool party went Up North for the first six days.  This is a photo documentary of some of our doings ... Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfOcHxJ30I/AAAAAAAAAX4/670zcfub8LQ/s1600-h/IMG_9555.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfOcHxJ30I/AAAAAAAAAX4/670zcfub8LQ/s200/IMG_9555.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226372875103625026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Esther, in all her beauty.  I believe this is her wondering what the big deal is about Tahquamenon Falls, and why we won't let her out of the stroller to run around.  Esther has recently determined, at 2 and a half, that is finally time to become a two year old!  Esther had a great time Up North.  For the whole trip she only had one hearing aid (because of some technical difficulties with the other, and having too much wax in her ear to get a good fitting mold).  But you wouldn't know it - her speech is coming along so well.  What a gem Esther is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfOaxWy5qI/AAAAAAAAAXo/N7oa9oCxJkE/s1600-h/IMG_9568.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfOaxWy5qI/AAAAAAAAAXo/N7oa9oCxJkE/s200/IMG_9568.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226372851907618466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Elijah at Tahquamenon Falls.  If you know Eli, you know he loves falls.  The water level was so much higher this year, because of all the rain we've had in Michigan.  That made the Upper Falls that much more spectacular (no dry spots), but it was a big disappointment when it came to the Lower Falls.  The increased water meant that the river at the Lower Falls was too high and the current too strong for us to wade in and enjoy the falls up close and personal.  I'm half-way inclined to think my mom put in a personal prayer request with Odin, to send rain, because she was not a big fan of our escapades at the Lower Falls last year (though she herself has walked across the rim of the Upper Falls!).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfOalBbgWI/AAAAAAAAAXg/BKL47Qnmfog/s1600-h/IMG_9643.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfOalBbgWI/AAAAAAAAAXg/BKL47Qnmfog/s200/IMG_9643.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226372848596779362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Eden, sporting her new sunglasses.  They sort of make her look bug-like.  One of the great things about being Up North was that there was plenty of room for Eden to run wherever her heart desired.  Except that she had no fear and would often seek to run right into the lake!  Oh, and Up North, Eden renewed her claim to fame as &lt;a href="http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2007/09/bobcat.html"&gt;The Bobcat&lt;/a&gt;.  She hardly slept two hours at a time for two-thirds of the time and instead became Bobcat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfObTnSRKI/AAAAAAAAAXw/M2t8tU8Hli4/s1600-h/IMG_9607.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfObTnSRKI/AAAAAAAAAXw/M2t8tU8Hli4/s200/IMG_9607.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226372861103588514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eli at Lake Michigan, in the part we call Sturgeon Bay.  I don't know if that's any kind of official name.  But that's what I've grown up calling it my whole life.  It is about 15 minutes from our cabin and it is a mandatory visit every Up North trip.  This is like a little taste of heaven for Eli, because there is water and plenty of rocks for building little "waterfalls" and also sand dunes to climb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfOcZAr5LI/AAAAAAAAAYA/GJM5UnMvYYQ/s1600-h/IMG_9652.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfOcZAr5LI/AAAAAAAAAYA/GJM5UnMvYYQ/s200/IMG_9652.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226372879732171954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Eden enjoying a break on the Daddy bench, along the shores of sunny Carp Lake - aka Paradise Lake.  Lots of politics in that, I think.  And as they say, all politics are local, so I'm not too tuned into the finer nuances, other than that perhaps Carp Lake (which sounds a little like something else) might not always make for the most attractive vacation spot.  Paradise Lake, on the other hand ... you get the picture.  There aren't even any carp in the lake.  Anyway, that's me relaxing at my uncle's cabin.  What a nice time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-585442884297748941?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/585442884297748941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=585442884297748941' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/585442884297748941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/585442884297748941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/07/our-recent-trip-up-north.html' title='Our recent trip Up North'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SIfOcHxJ30I/AAAAAAAAAX4/670zcfub8LQ/s72-c/IMG_9555.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-8042859237830747010</id><published>2008-07-23T20:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T20:24:30.517-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Side of Jesus</title><content type='html'>So the other day, as part of my praying of &lt;a href="http://www.annarborvineyard.org/tdh/tdh.cfm"&gt;the Divine Hours&lt;/a&gt;,  I was reading &lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?book=Luk&amp;amp;chapter=8&amp;amp;version=NIV#22"&gt;Luke 8:22-25&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a pretty well-known story, where Jesus calms the storm.  The story speaks of Jesus' power - his ability to speak to wind and waves and they obey.  The story speaks of the breaking in of God's Kingdom and kingdom warfare.  Jesus is on his way to the other side of the Sea of Galilee where he will encounter the man demonized by the demonic Legion.  In a last ditch effort to prevent this encounter, the powers of darkness stir up a storm to stop Jesus, but Jesus is the Stronger Man and the Kingdom of God breaks through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In between getting in the boat and telling the wind and waves to be still, Jesus is sleeping.  Much is made of this.  Most of the time we hear about Jesus' trust in God.  That Jesus isn't afraid of the storms of life, unlike his seasoned fishing buddies, but is able to sleep right through them.  Certainly this is true; Jesus perfectly trusts God.  Yet Jesus falls asleep before the wind and waves come.  I think the slumbering speaks to another side of Jesus ... his humanity.  He gets in the boat and he's tired.  The rhythmic motion of the wind and waves work to put him fast asleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can understand this.  Recently I was out late doing some ministry.  As the longer-than-expected car ride dragged on, I got very tired.  I really wanted to engage with my friends in the car, but I was sleepy.  It was an effort to keep my eyes open.  To not drift off.  Oh ... drifting off would be so nice ... Anyway, I can understand Jesus.  And it is encouraging to me that Jesus understands me.  I have limitations.  Jesus had them, so mine must be okay.  And that's encouraging.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-8042859237830747010?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/8042859237830747010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=8042859237830747010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8042859237830747010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8042859237830747010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/07/another-side-of-jesus.html' title='Another Side of Jesus'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-4375874447357737181</id><published>2008-07-21T08:53:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T19:57:00.456-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Motorcycle Diary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SISHXxIK0KI/AAAAAAAAAXY/Kt7L28jIFuA/s1600-h/t_truetrue02.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SISHXxIK0KI/AAAAAAAAAXY/Kt7L28jIFuA/s200/t_truetrue02.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225450310050959522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A couple of friends have been talking recently about how exciting it would be to have a Sidecar Motorcycle.  Like Miguel driving and Guy in the sidecar.  How cool would that be?!&lt;br /&gt;But who sees sidecars anymore?  Well, I did.  On my trip out to Idaho and back I saw two different sidecar motorcycles.  So here's hoping that there's a future for Miguel and Guy after all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-4375874447357737181?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/4375874447357737181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=4375874447357737181' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4375874447357737181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4375874447357737181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/07/motorcycle-diary.html' title='Motorcycle Diary'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SISHXxIK0KI/AAAAAAAAAXY/Kt7L28jIFuA/s72-c/t_truetrue02.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6136918872592524856</id><published>2008-07-21T08:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T08:47:43.321-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Favorite Thing This Week</title><content type='html'>is from the side of the Millville(R) Fruity Rice cereal box from Aldi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good Morning!  Millville(R) Fruity Rice is loaded with the great tasting nutrition of rice ... one of the world's oldest known grains. ... Fruity Rice is the beginning of a nutritious &amp;amp; wholesome breakfast.  When choices from the other basic food groups like milk, juice, toast and butter are added, your meal is complete and balanced."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should add that, basically, Fruity Rice is the same thing as Fruity Pebbles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this.  First, it is refreshingly friendly.  Plus, you've got the value of rice, one of the world's oldest grains.  Then, so long as you add foods like butter, from other groups, you've got a complete breakfast.  Good stuff!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6136918872592524856?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6136918872592524856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6136918872592524856' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6136918872592524856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6136918872592524856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-favorite-thing-this-week.html' title='My Favorite Thing This Week'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7529998027078855489</id><published>2008-07-17T10:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T10:08:32.854-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Biggby Coffee</title><content type='html'>So every now and then I hang out at the Biggby Coffee in Royal Oak, on Woodward, to work.  Especially when I need to catch up on a bunch of email, or sometimes on Monday to blog.  Anyway, every time I've been here, and I mean &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt;, there has been this guy in the corner on the phone, laptop open, talking loud.  He's running some business from his phone and computer and phone at Biggby's.  I get it, but it still feels a little weird.  What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and yes, I'm back from vacation, and have lots of stuff to comment on from there, once I'm more settled in with work and life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7529998027078855489?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7529998027078855489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7529998027078855489' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7529998027078855489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7529998027078855489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/07/biggby-coffee.html' title='Biggby Coffee'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-1062139989694796675</id><published>2008-06-27T22:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T22:12:38.513-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling Better?</title><content type='html'>I think maybe my warp drive might possibly be coming back on line.  Some weekend tests will confirm whether or not this is so, but even though my stomach is still funny and satisfied with far less food than normal, I think my energy level might finally be picking back up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-1062139989694796675?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/1062139989694796675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=1062139989694796675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1062139989694796675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1062139989694796675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/06/feeling-better.html' title='Feeling Better?'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-8791002661241487772</id><published>2008-06-25T14:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T14:51:54.103-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How was your trip to Ethiopia?</title><content type='html'>Many of my friends are asking me this question.  It is a natural question, a good question.  I'd ask it.  There are lots of ways to answer that question.  In fact, I've put together a little story of my time a few posts previous.  Here's the other way that I'd answer that question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ethiopia was good.  Looking at it from the 'work' side of seeing a network of self-sustaining, self-governing, self-reproducing Vineyard churches come into being that help bring transformation to the lives of people and the nation, this trip was sort of like a long training run (think 10-12 miles) when you're preparing for a marathon ... there isn't much to see for your efforts, and you're pretty sore and tired, but you know it was productive."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-8791002661241487772?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/8791002661241487772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=8791002661241487772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8791002661241487772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8791002661241487772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/06/how-was-your-trip-to-ethiopia.html' title='How was your trip to Ethiopia?'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3195820124242361908</id><published>2008-06-25T09:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T09:51:51.069-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Impulse Power</title><content type='html'>Remember on Star Trek when the Chief Engineer, Scotty, would declare in that subtle Scottish brogue, "Cap'n, the warp drive is down.  We've only got impulse power."  Uh-oh.  Kirk would have to navigate through some very difficult situations with only the power of the impulse engines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's how I feel.  My warp drive is down.  I'm working on impulse power.  Please pray for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3195820124242361908?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3195820124242361908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3195820124242361908' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3195820124242361908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3195820124242361908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/06/impulse-power.html' title='Impulse Power'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-5739291939645225250</id><published>2008-06-25T09:42:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T09:45:27.285-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprise Birthday Party</title><content type='html'>So last Friday I had a surprise birthday party.  It was very nice.  Lots of friends, great food, cool beverages.  Everyone had a nice time from what I could tell.  What made it funny is that on like Wednesday morning, Eli and I were having breakfast and he looks at me and says, "Dad, we're having a surprise birthday party for you on Friday, but we're just not sure of the time."  So the surprise part was sort of minimized.  In fact, because Megan wasn't feeling very well that day, I ended up cooking the meal portion that we brought - though the Pulled Pork BBQ that was already there far surpassed it!  When I told my friend, Ramon, that I cooked the dinner for my own surprise party, his response was, "Classic."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-5739291939645225250?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5739291939645225250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=5739291939645225250' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5739291939645225250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5739291939645225250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/06/surprise-birthday-party.html' title='Surprise Birthday Party'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-8543531223596352628</id><published>2008-06-19T09:47:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-20T14:23:53.199-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My recent trip to Africa</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm recently returned from my trip to Ethiopia.  My stomach still isn't sure what to make of things, and I still can't stay awake past 7:30PM, but I'm beginning to adjust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went with Mark Fields, who coordinates the international mission effort for Vineyard USA.  This trip had a few goals: 1) continue to build relationships with Woody and the Ethiopian pastors and leadership team; 2) get a feel for what was going on in terms of the church growth and health; 3) impart some Vineyard values and conduct training, especially in terms of relationships and leadership.  I hoped for a fourth goal ... to learn from Mark Fields and test my intuitions against his experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my day-by-day story of my trip ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, June 9th: I departed for Ethiopia.  I was pretty sad leaving this time, being that it was second trip in four months.  On the way over the Big Pond I read Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s &lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Why-We-Cant-Wait/Martin-Luther-King-Jr/e/9780451527530/?itm=1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Why We Can't Wait&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  It was great.  I had never read "Letter from a Birmingham Jail" and was powerfully moved by both the content and style of King's writing.  It was just what I was looking for.  Otherwise, the flight was uneventful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, June 10th: I laid over in Amsterdam's Schirpol airport.  Nothing special, other than that they had a mini-exhibit from the art museum, which I thought was super cool.  Very nice to be able to take a few minutes break and view some amazing paintings for free.  DTW should do that with the DIA.  I wish I had like two hours more, and then maybe I could have gone into Amsterdam.  Oh well.  On the flight down to Ethiopia I read &lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Shack/William-P-Young/e/9780964729230/?itm=1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Shack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  I know it is so cliche, but I literally couldn't put it down.  If I had not been jammed up against the window in a crowded plane, I would have laughed out loud and openly wept.  I was choking back tears.  It was very good - blew away my expectations.  It is a novel, a little like Pilgrim's Progress.  If you're looking for a book to help you think more about finding God in the midst of suffering and such, then I think this is a good book for you.  Anyway, there was a big sandstorm in the Khartoum area, so we almost didn't land there to refuel.  In fact, it turns out (I found out later from Meg - who understandably freaked out when she heard the news) a plane had had a weather-related accident in Khartoum a few hours before we got there.  But all was well.  I landed in Addis uneventfully and, having met Mark and Woody at the airport, we went to our hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday, June 11th: Despite a late night, we got started very early on our trip up to the northwest Addis churches.  We picked up some bread and snacks for lunch at a local market and then headed out.  A breakfast of coffee, tibbs (sheep meat in broth) and injara (bread) awaited us, along with some local pastor friends, at a restaurant in Holeta.  They piled in our Land Cruiser and we were off.  That day we visited the churches in Minke and Minaare, as well as saw the new property for the church in Mugar.  Because it was the rainy season, most people were out in the fields farming, so the turnouts at our little gatherings were less than last time.  That night we ate at the Chess Hotel (yes, complete with outdoor murals of people playing chess) in Mugar.  We didn't play chess, but we did dash across the street to our hotel rooms because the rain was pouring down.  I stopped eating injara by this point, as its slighly sour flavor was definitely not sitting well with my stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, June 12th: &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFprU8nnCAI/AAAAAAAAAVs/ZoIul-JHYIA/s1600-h/IMG_9408.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 108px; height: 81px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFprU8nnCAI/AAAAAAAAAVs/ZoIul-JHYIA/s200/IMG_9408.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213597526248589314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While Mark (and our driver) stayed behind to work, Woody and I, along with a few local friends, rode horses to visit the new church across the valley from Mugar. This church was in a small village called Dhekuqersa, and they had never had the opportunity to hear the gospel until the church was planted there in October 2007.  The 90 minute one way horse back ride was something else, and included fording a river with a major waterfall.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFprWUsG0yI/AAAAAAAAAV8/N8fEHMzDM9o/s1600-h/IMG_9435.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 73px; height: 99px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFprWUsG0yI/AAAAAAAAAV8/N8fEHMzDM9o/s200/IMG_9435.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213597549889770274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was definitely not the States, as you could walk right up to the unprotected edge of a falls easily as big as Niagara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The people of Dhekuqersa were great.  They loved getting their family portraits taken.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFpvWf8v8MI/AAAAAAAAAWE/wb2jONPWBp0/s1600-h/IMG_9449.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 100px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFpvWf8v8MI/AAAAAAAAAWE/wb2jONPWBp0/s200/IMG_9449.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213601950958874818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What was also amazing was that we still had cell phone coverage here!  We were able to share a word with them from the gospels and then pray for their church.  We were also able to pray for healing (for a disabled foot) for a new disciple in their church who had recently been delivered from a number of demons.  God did restore to her more feeling to her leg and foot.  After riding back, we had a short gathering at the new Mugar location (which involved me do a little Children's ministry with all the kids that had gathered) and also visited the church at Ulagora, though, unfortunately, we were like 2 hours late so most everyone was gone.  Then, after a brief visit the church in Holeta, we returned to Addis and our rooms at the Blue Light hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, June 13th: Today we spent the day in Addis conducting training for the pastors and leaders in the churches of Addis and the surrounding area.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFpwp-mn89I/AAAAAAAAAWM/b91Et4AF5FA/s1600-h/IMG_9479.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 99px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFpwp-mn89I/AAAAAAAAAWM/b91Et4AF5FA/s200/IMG_9479.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213603385116718034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFpwqqp3juI/AAAAAAAAAWU/PIVAtG84lD4/s1600-h/IMG_9482.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 132px; height: 98px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFpwqqp3juI/AAAAAAAAAWU/PIVAtG84lD4/s200/IMG_9482.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213603396941483746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We were at the new Living Stream Vineyard.  I spoke in the morning on Kingdom relationships in life and ministry and Mark spoke in the afternoon on Servant Leadership.  It was very productive.  That night the pastor invited us over to his home for a wonderful dinner and coffee, along with Woody, his wife and our friend Shimeles.  He told us stories of how the churches under his supervision are seeing many Mslms come to Christ in a different part of Ethiopia.  Dreams, visions, healings, you name it.  God is at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday, June 14th: We had coffee and breakfast at Kaldi's Coffee, the Ethiopian Starbucks knock-off.  It was great.  Their Americano was great, though still not as good as a regular cup of Ethiopian joe.  Then we departed for Awassa.  Along the way we visited a couple of churches where they are seeing some significant ministry - both among the disabled poor and to Mslms.  We passed by one district where there are 8 churches working primarily among Mslms, all with evangelists who grew up in the community.  Because of some cell-phone network outages on the road down, we weren't able to visit some of the churches in the Awassa area that we had planned on visiting.&lt;br /&gt;So we spent a little relational time together - Mark, myself, Woody, Chemdessa and our driver, and we took the boat out to see the hippos on Awassa Lake.  After a beautiful boat ride &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFpz2SlHAWI/AAAAAAAAAWs/3SpRegMnirg/s1600-h/IMG_9510.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 93px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFpz2SlHAWI/AAAAAAAAAWs/3SpRegMnirg/s200/IMG_9510.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213606895172387170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;we passed a fisherman &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFpz397q6EI/AAAAAAAAAW0/JSvxC0e9wgo/s1600-h/IMG_9518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 123px; height: 92px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFpz397q6EI/AAAAAAAAAW0/JSvxC0e9wgo/s200/IMG_9518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213606923989608514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and then came to the hippos &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFpz0c-JEGI/AAAAAAAAAWc/_6l4aaz6_jQ/s1600-h/IMG_9527.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 115px; height: 84px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFpz0c-JEGI/AAAAAAAAAWc/_6l4aaz6_jQ/s200/IMG_9527.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213606863601995874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;- about 10 or 12 in all, only maybe 100 feet from our boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woody and I were up late that night talking over dessert and we were able to link up with some of the area pastors and chat with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday, June 15th: We facilitated a half-day training in Awassa.  For the first half we spent a few hours answering a number of questions that the local pastors had about the Vineyard, etc.  Then we transitioned and I did my teaching on relationships.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFp21XQnfZI/AAAAAAAAAW8/LSS-_mI42Cc/s1600-h/IMG_9544.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 91px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFp21XQnfZI/AAAAAAAAAW8/LSS-_mI42Cc/s200/IMG_9544.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213610177783627154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One funny bit was that I ended up giving my shoes away to someone there, as they had gotten pretty wet from the lake the night before, and I figured someone there would prefer to have them than me taking them home only to throw them away. After spending some time chatting with our friends, we headed back to Addis and Mark and I joined Woody, Shewaye and their eldest daughter (Eden) for dinner at the Zebra Grill - 9 stories up - where, among other things, they had chicken wings!  But I didn't try them.  That night we stayed in a guest house that had formerly been the Palestinian Embassy - is it possible Yassir Arafet had climbed those same steps?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, June 16th: Mark and I have breakfast with Shimeles at Kaldi's.  We had a nice chat and then Woody took us to the airport.  All around it was a great visit.  On the plan ride out I took several hours to catalog all my thoughts. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFp30rNsDoI/AAAAAAAAAXE/o341GzYRRjE/s1600-h/IMG_9552.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 95px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFp30rNsDoI/AAAAAAAAAXE/o341GzYRRjE/s200/IMG_9552.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213611265471811202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Near our refueling stop in Rome I happened to see Mt. Vesuvius.  Eli loves volcanoes and so I was excited to be able to take a picture of it.  I was able to see an old friend of mine during my 13 hour overnight layover in London.  We had a late dinner and coffee, then I found a little seat on which I "slept" for a few hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday, June 17th: I fly home to Detroit.  On the way I read &lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Multiplying-Church/Bob-Roberts/e/9780310277163/?itm=2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Multiplying Church&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  I also watched &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0443649/"&gt;10,000 BC&lt;/a&gt; on my on-demand entertainment screen.  I had to work at finishing both.  Mostly, though, I just looked forward to finally being home and seeing my family again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was a great trip.  I learned a lot.  And I think we accomplished all three of our goals, and I also accomplished my fourth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to all of you who made the trip possible (through prayer and supporting Meg and my family).  Peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-8543531223596352628?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/8543531223596352628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=8543531223596352628' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8543531223596352628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8543531223596352628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-recent-trip-to-africa.html' title='My recent trip to Africa'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SFprU8nnCAI/AAAAAAAAAVs/ZoIul-JHYIA/s72-c/IMG_9408.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-8604166429747332371</id><published>2008-06-08T15:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T15:41:08.894-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I love this picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SEw0edDjjBI/AAAAAAAAAVk/8uuVIMUtj44/s1600-h/IMG_8552.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SEw0edDjjBI/AAAAAAAAAVk/8uuVIMUtj44/s200/IMG_8552.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209596566761081874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;this is what i want to be: a pilgrim that progresses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;courtesy of &lt;a href="http://www.amykimballphotography.com/"&gt;amy kimball&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-8604166429747332371?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/8604166429747332371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=8604166429747332371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8604166429747332371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8604166429747332371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-love-this-picture.html' title='I love this picture'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SEw0edDjjBI/AAAAAAAAAVk/8uuVIMUtj44/s72-c/IMG_8552.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7591528067058866205</id><published>2008-06-05T06:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T06:16:11.265-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good quote</title><content type='html'>"Anybody can be great, because anybody can serve." --- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.&lt;br /&gt;Something to think about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7591528067058866205?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7591528067058866205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7591528067058866205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7591528067058866205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7591528067058866205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/06/good-quote.html' title='Good quote'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6905758887182715059</id><published>2008-05-31T15:50:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T22:12:25.805-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Perspective</title><content type='html'>The US gets its fair share of bad press these days.  Much of it is, no doubt, deserved.  But courtesy of some relation of mine whose connection I cannot fathom, by way of my father and his &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tutor Tales&lt;/span&gt;, I offer the following narrative snippets to provide some perspective.  I can't determine if they're true (via &lt;a href="http://www.snopes.com/"&gt;snopes&lt;/a&gt;, e.g.), but they are still something to think about, even if they are a little hard on the French.&lt;br /&gt;------------&lt;br /&gt;When in England at a fairly large conference, Colin Powell was asked by the Archbishop of Canterbury if our plans for Iraq were just an example of empire building.  He answered by saying, "Over the years, the United States has sent many of its fine young men and women into great peril to fight for freedom beyond our borders.  The only amount of land we have ever asked for in return is enough to bury those that did not return." [&lt;a href="http://www.snopes.com/politics/quotes/powell.asp"&gt;full snopes story&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;br /&gt;--------------&lt;br /&gt;There was a conference in France where a number of international engineers were taking part, including French and American.  During a break one of the French engineers came back into the room saying, "Have you heard the dumb stunt America has done?  They've sent an aircraft carrier to Indonesia to help the tsunami victims.  What do they intend to do, bomb them?"&lt;br /&gt;A Boeing engineer stood up and replied quietly, "Our carriers have three hospitals on board that can treat several hundred people; they are nuclear powered and can supply emergency electrical power to shore facilities; they have three cafeterias with the capacity to fee 5000 people three meals a day, they can produce several hundred thousand gallons of fresh water from sea water each day, and they carry half a dozen helicopters for use in transporting victims and injured to and from their flight deck.  We have eleven such ships."&lt;br /&gt;---------------&lt;br /&gt;A US Navy Admiral was attending a naval conference that included Admirals from the US, England, Canada, Australia, and France.  At a cocktail reception, he found himself standing with a large group of officers that included personnel from those countries.  Everyone was chatting away in English as they sipped their drinks but a French Admiral suddenly complained that, "whereas Europeans learn many languages, Americans learn only English."  He then asked, "Why is it that we always have to speak English in these conferences rather than speaking French?"  Without hesitating, the American Admiral replied, "Maybe it's because the Brits, Canadians, Aussies and Americans arranged it so you wouldn't have to speak German."&lt;br /&gt;---------------&lt;br /&gt;A group of Americans, retired teachers, recently went to France on a tour.  Robert Whiting, an elderly gentleman of 83, arrived in Paris by plane.  At French customs, he took a few minutes to locate his passport in his carry on.  "You have been to France before, monsieur?" the customs officer asked sarcastically.  Mr. Whiting admitted that he had been to France previously.  "Then you should know enough to have your passport ready."  The American said, "The last time I was here, I didn't have time to show it."  "Impossible.  Americans always have to show their passports on arrival in France!"  Mr. Whiting gave the customs officer a long hard look.  Then he quietly explained, "Well, when I cam ashore at Omaha Beach on D-Day in 1944 to help liberate this country, I couldn't find a Frenchman to show it to."&lt;br /&gt;--------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I mentioned, a little hard on the French, yet worth mentioning, perhaps, for a little additional perspective.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6905758887182715059?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6905758887182715059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6905758887182715059' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6905758887182715059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6905758887182715059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/05/some-perspective.html' title='Some Perspective'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3329505876268313688</id><published>2008-05-31T08:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-31T08:32:40.186-04:00</updated><title type='text'>1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..9..All Done!</title><content type='html'>Esther counted this morning to 9!  Who knew!?  Neither Megan nor I knew she could count, and yet she counted all the way to 9.  Way to go Esther!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3329505876268313688?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3329505876268313688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3329505876268313688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3329505876268313688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3329505876268313688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/05/123456789.html' title='1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..9..All Done!'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-5798166068504436613</id><published>2008-05-28T06:52:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T07:02:32.007-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in the Burbs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SD05oAP79-I/AAAAAAAAATU/ATOHprjDdjQ/s1600-h/14520422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 146px; height: 218px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SD05oAP79-I/AAAAAAAAATU/ATOHprjDdjQ/s200/14520422.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205380103734556642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It is possible to find life in the suburbs - a deeper, thick life of connectedness with God, others, and even ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;Goetz says, "In the late nineties, I read an interview with pop artist Jewell in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Rolling Stone&lt;/span&gt; magazine.  ... She said, 'I'm just a person who is honestly trying to live my life and asking, "How do you be spiritual and live in the world without going to a monastery?'''  I don't think you can be spiritual and live in the suburbs without the practices of the monastery.  If I had to capture the deeper Christian life in two words, I'd choose &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;silence&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;service&lt;/span&gt; within the context, of course, of Christian community.  In silence, the flow is between God and me.  In service, the flow is from me to the world.  ... As I experience the depths of Christ's presence, as my conversation with God matures, silence and service become my life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is good.  And for silence and service to be become our life, we have to begin somewhere - to take time for silence and start serving someone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-5798166068504436613?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5798166068504436613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=5798166068504436613' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5798166068504436613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5798166068504436613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/05/life-in-burbs.html' title='Life in the Burbs'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SD05oAP79-I/AAAAAAAAATU/ATOHprjDdjQ/s72-c/14520422.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7494732169040752891</id><published>2008-05-26T11:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T18:39:02.897-04:00</updated><title type='text'>There but by the grace of God go I ...</title><content type='html'>The Pool Party watched the Ferndale Memorial Day parade this morning.  It was a nice small suburban city affair, replete with elderly veterans in odd hats, hand-shaking politicians, and junior high marching bands.  We had a couple of friends in the Ferndale Junior High marching band - they were great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memorial Day, of course, is the time we've set aside as a people to remember the service of soldiers (and civil servants) who've sacrificed to uphold our way of life.  This year a group of paraders honored the men and women of Michigan who've died in Iraq.  There was a section for each year, with paraders holding up signs with the names, pictures and hometowns of fallen soldiers.  Many of the signs had two pictures, some three.  They kept increasing from 2003 to 2004 to 2005 to 2006 to 2007.  There were even three or four young men who've died in 2008.  It was sobering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in the Army.  I resigned my commission in October 2002, after my 8 years of minimum service obligation were completed.  Let's just say that Megan strongly encouraged me that it was the right time.  Within two months of me getting my honorable discharge paperwork (which I was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very&lt;/span&gt; surprised they gave me) my branch manager in the Army Reserves Personnel Command starting emailing and calling - at home and work - wondering what I needed to do to get ready for deployment.  I kindly informed her I was done.  She kindly said, "Prove it."  I did.  End of discussion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's why I'm telling this story.  Had I waited a month or two, I'd very likely be a Major in the Army, possibly on my third Iraq deployment.  It might have been my picture on one of those signs.  A sobering thought.  There but by the grace of God go I.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7494732169040752891?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7494732169040752891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7494732169040752891' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7494732169040752891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7494732169040752891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/05/there-but-by-grace-of-god-go-i.html' title='There but by the grace of God go I ...'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-8386462261162663204</id><published>2008-05-18T20:22:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T20:44:10.715-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday Night Party</title><content type='html'>So I was at this party Saturday night.  It was a joint birthday party for some friends&lt;br /&gt;Here I am having a good time ...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SDDMxjUjrJI/AAAAAAAAAS8/cb6w5ES0yqQ/s1600-h/n511473969_472778_5376.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SDDMxjUjrJI/AAAAAAAAAS8/cb6w5ES0yqQ/s200/n511473969_472778_5376.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201882721280044178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then in walks this guy.  He's wearing a mask.  He gets a friend and they start following around my son ...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SDDNAjUjrKI/AAAAAAAAATE/pA_TwmiKy-c/s1600-h/n511473969_472800_3635.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SDDNAjUjrKI/AAAAAAAAATE/pA_TwmiKy-c/s200/n511473969_472800_3635.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201882978978081954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But then we manage to calm him down.  We invite him into our picture.  He accepts, but he's shy ... nearby, but distant.&lt;img src="file:///Users/jimpool/Desktop/s511473969_472767_7108.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SDDJPjUjrGI/AAAAAAAAASk/kQTE-1xsO6E/s1600-h/s511473969_472768_1976.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SDDJPjUjrGI/AAAAAAAAASk/kQTE-1xsO6E/s200/s511473969_472768_1976.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201878838629608546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then, unmasked, the mysterious man is revealed to be none other than Miguel.  And we discover that he uses Revlon, as seen in that his hair is still light and bouncy, despite being confined to that mask for so long ...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SDDJnTUjrHI/AAAAAAAAASs/_n728OYpwB8/s1600-h/s511473969_472769_2241.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SDDJnTUjrHI/AAAAAAAAASs/_n728OYpwB8/s200/s511473969_472769_2241.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201879246651501682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After our little Revlon commercial, we took a moment to get serious, remembering those who suffer without mustaches:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SDDKKDUjrII/AAAAAAAAAS0/o25PREKc5Xs/s1600-h/s511473969_472770_3064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SDDKKDUjrII/AAAAAAAAAS0/o25PREKc5Xs/s200/s511473969_472770_3064.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201879843651955842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just another Saturday night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-8386462261162663204?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/8386462261162663204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=8386462261162663204' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8386462261162663204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8386462261162663204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/05/saturday-night-party.html' title='Saturday Night Party'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SDDMxjUjrJI/AAAAAAAAAS8/cb6w5ES0yqQ/s72-c/n511473969_472778_5376.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-2747076565611119768</id><published>2008-05-16T05:24:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T06:00:53.173-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Provision and Pursuing</title><content type='html'>As often as I've been able over the last month or so, I've woken up early, opened up the window in my den (or whatever other room I find myself in, if traveling), and listen to the birds.  Their joyful songs remind me of Jesus' teachings in Matthew 6 - that the birds neither sow nor reap and yet they are provided for.  God provides for them.  God provides for us.  It is good for me to reflect on this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megan and I just returned with our team from the 4Ward Conference - the regional leadership gathering of the Vineyard Great Lakes.  It was good.  I'm pretty stirred up - for God, for the people in our area, for our church.  I love our church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want our church to grow - to see more people discover eternal life and freedom in Jesus.  I really want our church to know community - vibrant relationships where people are authentically sharing life.  But we can't pursue growth.  We can't pursue community.  If we do, things get all messed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus says we're to pursue first God's Kingdom and God's righteousness, and if we do that,  then all these other things will be taken care - growth and community and personal satisfaction and a whole load of things besides.  To pursue God's Kingdom is to experience reality as it is described in places like &lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?book=Luk&amp;amp;chapter=15&amp;amp;version=NIV#top"&gt;Luke 15&lt;/a&gt; and to live out Jesus' agenda as described in places like &lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?book=Luk&amp;amp;chapter=004&amp;amp;version=niv"&gt;Luke 4:18-19&lt;/a&gt;.  As we do this we're pursuing the righteousness of God - all things he considers right and good and just.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the birds have reminded me this morning that we're to pursue first God's Kingdom and God will provide for what is necessary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-2747076565611119768?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/2747076565611119768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=2747076565611119768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2747076565611119768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2747076565611119768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/05/provision-and-pursuing.html' title='Provision and Pursuing'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-2509088358502367410</id><published>2008-05-12T20:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T21:07:21.594-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm encouraged</title><content type='html'>Doesn't it feel like good manners are pretty much dead?  Meg and I watched a Jane Austen classic last night, &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0844330/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Persuasion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, and for some reason it really stood out to me how different the cultural manners were.  And how generally nice theirs were.  Well, anyway, all is not lost.  As I was driving through downtown Royal Oak tonight, I saw a young man and woman walking arm-in-arm, Jane Austen style.  There was a light rain and everything, but they seemed oblivious.  They seemed to be enjoying one another in their own world.  Well done, mystery man! Gentleman-ness &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; alive and well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-2509088358502367410?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/2509088358502367410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=2509088358502367410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2509088358502367410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2509088358502367410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/05/im-encouraged.html' title='I&apos;m encouraged'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-5511061395571555350</id><published>2008-05-11T20:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T20:15:13.700-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I Run Faster Than ... ?</title><content type='html'>If you know Eli, you'll know that he's really into comparisons right now.  Bigger, taller, older, stronger, faster ... you get the idea ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when Megan puts Eli to bed, she spends time praying with him.  Recently she's been praying for him to be protected from the Enemy.  "What's the Enemy's name again, mom?" Eli recently asked.  "His name is Satan, honey," Megan replied.  "Mom," Eli continues, "do you think I could run faster than Satan?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you say to that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-5511061395571555350?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5511061395571555350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=5511061395571555350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5511061395571555350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5511061395571555350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/05/can-i-run-faster-than.html' title='Can I Run Faster Than ... ?'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-5818868009934743192</id><published>2008-05-08T09:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T10:17:09.432-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning Reflections</title><content type='html'>I woke up again early this morning.  Not quite as early as yesterday, but still pretty early and engaged with my day right from the start.  I like to wake up early because it is a quiet space.  I also like to spend time with Jesus.  I've got a lot of ministry things I'm working on right now and I  wanted to spend some good time in prayer, for them, and also to connect with God before engaging in a full day of working on them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just sort of listening to this worship song, &lt;a href="http://www.vineyardmusic.com/usa/scripts/showWords.asp?ccli=3672774"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, and it really dawned on me again how beautiful Jesus is.  He's the reason I got up that morning.  He's beautiful.  And I wanted to gaze on and soak up his beauty.  I just sorta sat there taking it all in, and it was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then as I was on my way in to the office and leaving a message on a friend's voicemail, I had this strong impression reminding me that Jesus never fails.  Jesus never fails.  Jesus' love never fails.  Isn't that good?  This brings me hope.  Man, I was almost moved to tears again, reflecting on how he never fails.  He never fails us.  He never fails to accomplish his purposes.  Jesus, the Beautiful One, never fails.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-5818868009934743192?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5818868009934743192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=5818868009934743192' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5818868009934743192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5818868009934743192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/05/morning-reflections.html' title='Morning Reflections'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-5647760757224983528</id><published>2008-05-07T08:22:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T18:27:59.709-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jim Pool &amp; Friend or Rob Bell &amp; Maverick?</title><content type='html'>Is the picture below Jim Pool and his cadet friend or Rob Bell and Maverick on vacation?&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SCGfv8YhjrI/AAAAAAAAARE/2qaCbTEYX3Q/s200/rob_bell.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197611090973920946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SCGgA8YhjtI/AAAAAAAAARU/4Bis_NqKyQU/s200/top_gun_maverick_tom_cruise_suited.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197611383031697106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SCIs3cYhjuI/AAAAAAAAARc/Uzb4UYq7Kck/s1600-h/IMG_9366.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SCIs3cYhjuI/AAAAAAAAARc/Uzb4UYq7Kck/s200/IMG_9366.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197766250962456290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You be the judge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-5647760757224983528?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5647760757224983528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=5647760757224983528' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5647760757224983528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5647760757224983528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/05/jim-pool-friend-or-rob-bell-maverick.html' title='Jim Pool &amp; Friend or Rob Bell &amp; Maverick?'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SCGfv8YhjrI/AAAAAAAAARE/2qaCbTEYX3Q/s72-c/rob_bell.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-1088977812007194</id><published>2008-05-05T08:24:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T08:44:38.203-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blast from the Past</title><content type='html'>Who is this man?  And what is he saying?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SB8BFZIvZhI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/9QhrIUSveRQ/s1600-h/IMG_9363.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SB8BFZIvZhI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/9QhrIUSveRQ/s200/IMG_9363.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196873687167362578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its an old picture of me from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Army&lt;/span&gt; magazine, circa spring 1994.   Here's the larger image, to give you a sense of the larger scene.  Note the caption.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SB7_S5IvZfI/AAAAAAAAAQs/4qKnv9HmvFY/s1600-h/IMG_9366.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SB7_S5IvZfI/AAAAAAAAAQs/4qKnv9HmvFY/s200/IMG_9366.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196871720072340978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;About a dozen of us cadets were given the opportunity to take a (free) trip to the Normandy coast to discuss the D-Day invasion, around the time of the 50th anniversary of that amazing day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still preaching.  Just a different gospel, I suppose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-1088977812007194?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/1088977812007194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=1088977812007194' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1088977812007194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1088977812007194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/05/blast-from-past.html' title='Blast from the Past'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SB8BFZIvZhI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/9QhrIUSveRQ/s72-c/IMG_9363.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3370161996487477087</id><published>2008-05-04T22:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T08:45:10.150-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Meet Me At The Sign of the Beefcarver</title><content type='html'>Among most of my friends, the Sign of the Beefcarver has something of a bad reputation.  Okay, that's actually understating it.  I've heard it openly mocked.  But when Megan mentioned tonight that we might need to go out tomorrow to eat because we're a bit low on food, I'm proud to admit that the Sign of the Beefcarver is one place I'm happy to consider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCJ6w1h1whw"&gt;Beefcarver&lt;/a&gt;.  Good, solid, heartland food with plenty of older folks and youngish waitresses (and waiters) wishing they were working somewhere else.  But they help you to your seat, even without a tip.  And it reminds me of my grandma; we used to eat there a fair amount as a kid.  Of course, I haven't been to the Beefcarver in years.  I was so mocked the last time I went, which was years ago, when our friends Grant &amp;amp; Cheryl Lynn first visited Detroit, that no one has been willing to go back with me.  Clarification: it wasn't so much Grant &amp;amp; Cheryl Lynn that mercilessly made fun of me, but it was sort of the prevailing mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the grandma's of today are eating there still.  At least those who haven't gone vegetarian and who practice bikram yoga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, friends, meet me at the Sign of the Beefcarver.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3370161996487477087?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3370161996487477087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3370161996487477087' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3370161996487477087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3370161996487477087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/05/meet-me-at-sign-of-beefcarver.html' title='Meet Me At The Sign of the Beefcarver'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6029390811824041395</id><published>2008-04-29T23:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T23:09:36.412-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Boys Make Better Boys</title><content type='html'>A Sabbath Story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday afternoon, Megan came downstairs from an unusually long nap.  [full disclosure dictates that I remind the reader that it is&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; highly&lt;/span&gt; unusual behavior for Megan to take naps]  So she wakes up from her nap and comes downstairs to find Eli and I having a pretty merry 'ol time.  She looks out the kitchen window.  "Jim," she asks, "did you clean the deck?"  "Yeah, mom," Eli replies, "Dad cleaned  the deck.  I helped him."  "Yeah," I said.  Mumbling, I also mentioned how I did the dishes and picked up around the house.  "Wow," says Megan, "you've been busy."  To which I reply:  "If you can't do what you want to do, at least do what you need to do."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6029390811824041395?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6029390811824041395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6029390811824041395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6029390811824041395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6029390811824041395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/04/busy-boys-make-better-boys.html' title='Busy Boys Make Better Boys'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-5868769487211159245</id><published>2008-04-29T11:14:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T08:47:14.539-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Gym Pool!  Gym Pool!  Gym Pool!</title><content type='html'>so i got this email from a friend of mine earlier today.  its funny.  its also a little self-edifying, but hey, its my blog ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;jim,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;kids got into their bathing suits this morning for some reason and got all amped up to go swimming (their own agenda).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;of course, we told them it was too cold to go swimming, but they know there's a pool at the YMCA where [my wife] works out sometimes.  They call it the gym pool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;so they're jumping up and down in the kitchen and chanting "gym pool! gym pool! gym pool!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;say it out loud a couple of times, for yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: courier new;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I've tried and it works!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-5868769487211159245?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5868769487211159245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=5868769487211159245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5868769487211159245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5868769487211159245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/04/encouraging-word.html' title='Gym Pool!  Gym Pool!  Gym Pool!'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-4486148839497842393</id><published>2008-04-25T22:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T22:59:41.361-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolate vs. Vanilla Ice Cream</title><content type='html'>So Megan and I had the opportunity recently to fly to Houston.  We went as part of my responsibilities on the Vineyard's Church Planting Task Force.  I love to fly.  Megan hates it.  Megan's an introvert.  So cramped airplanes are not her thing.  But partly to ease her nerves, and partly because she's wanting to be more free in sharing about the life she's found in Jesus, Megan totally struck up a conversation with the woman who sat down next to her in the aisle seat.  The woman was dressed conservatively, in business-type attire, carrying an umbrella and a straw hat - the kind you'd see in the movies that people would wear when harvesting in the rice patty.  So Megan strikes up a conversation with this woman, telling her all about where we're going and why, etc.  The other woman is very interested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I'm wrapping up the last pages of Anne Rice's second installment in her historical fiction of Christ's life: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Christ-Lord-Road-Cana/dp/1400043522/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1209176909&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;The Road to Cana&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;/span&gt;As I finished the last page, I began to cry.  Here I am at cruising altitude, having a moment with Jesus.  I'm looking out the window in awe of how awesome Jesus is and how he changes our lives.  Of how he heals people and radically alters our destinies.  Of how he rewrites stories.  I mean, he's Jesus, and this is worship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And from somewhere deep inside my moment with Jesus, I hear the woman next to Megan say, "You know, I, too, am part of a religious group.  Perhaps you've heard of it, its called _____."  It was, of course, a group that probably all of us have heard of, but out of respect, I'll leave it to your imagination.  As soon as I heard that, I knew my moment was beginning to end.  And as I sensed Megan looking for help with the many questions the woman was now starting to help, I said goodbye to my moment and slowly worked my way into the conversation.  And wouldn't you know it?  After about five (5) minutes, Megan nonchalantly pulls out a book and her journal and she proceeds to totally check out of the conversation, leaving the rest to me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest, I didn't really feel like this conversation.  I wanted to be back looking out the window with Jesus.  But because of my love for Jesus, I stayed talking to my new friend.  And if you know me at all, you know how much I love to answer questions.  And you know how hard it is for me to ignore comments like, "Well, we all know that one of the big things Martin Luther discovered, coming out of the Dark Ages, was that the Trinity was wrong, and that's one of the big reasons he nailed those Ninety-Five Theses to the door of the church at Wittenberg."  At that point I actually gave her my business card, wrote my email on it and asked her to find documented evidence of that and email it to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was enjoying myself after all, even if it wasn't exactly what I felt like doing.  But there was a problem.  You see, I never came equipped with an "inside voice."  If you get me excited on a plane for three hours, this can be a problem ... you get the picture. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it was right about this time that the guy across the aisle from my new friend turns to the guy he's been talking to and says, "Oh no!  They're talking about religion.  That's like saying, "I like chocolate ice cream.  And you like vanilla ice cream.  But you should like chocolate!!  Its all a matter of preference.  Let's stick to science and things we can prove and know are true."  Then they laughed and carried on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I heard this, two things went through my mind.  First, I thought, "Is my faith really the same as an ice cream preference?  Is that what you think?  Really?  Really?  I mean, come on, for many people, and not just fundamentalist Christians, their faith is the governing understanding of their life, guiding major decisions and their sense of identity and the world.  Is that really the same as a dessert preference?"  Second, I found myself getting very sad that I had offended him, and even more, that I had made Jesus seem small in his eyes.  I excused myself from my conversation with the woman and visited the restroom.  I apologized to Jesus and then committed to trying to connect with this guy and even maybe apologize to him for having an "insider" conversation in a way that diminished Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did come back to my seat and finish the conversation with Megan's seat neighbor, sometime while zigzagging over Texas.  We even got to pray with her.  Turns out her mother was very ill, which is why she was flying to Houston, and she let us pray for her mother to be healed by Jesus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got a chance to connect with the Ice Cream guy.  While I was wrapping up the one conversation, I heard him talking about how he liked to play Dungeons &amp;amp; Dragons.  Having played myself, once upon a time, I asked if it was true that the founder of D&amp;amp;D had died, as I had heard.  It was true, he replied, maybe a little surprised.  We then talked about our favorite fantasy novels until we landed.  I never did apologize, but I do think he had a glimpse that maybe not all Christians are as weird as he thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it turns out he wasn't the only one listening.  The guy directly behind Megan had been partly sleeping for much of the plane ride, eyes closed, yet open just a slit.  He was clearly listening in.  I thought I caught a hint of it at a few points.  We landed and docked and that's when everyone does that "hurry up and wait and stand up even though there's no where to go" thing.  Well, when we did that, he immediately, but casually, started to ask me about a number of Christian authors and what I thought, etc.  Turns out he led a men's group in his local church and was in the process of thinking through lots of new ideas and was curious to know more about the Vineyard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all it was an active plane ride!  I still haven't heard anything about the Ninety-Five Theses, but I'm hopeful that Jesus touched this nice young woman's mother.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-4486148839497842393?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/4486148839497842393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=4486148839497842393' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4486148839497842393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4486148839497842393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/04/chocolate-vs-vanilla-ice-cream.html' title='Chocolate vs. Vanilla Ice Cream'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6556664050975832803</id><published>2008-04-23T11:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T11:20:43.354-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Giving thanks</title><content type='html'>Oh, and can I say what a great time I had this past weekend!  God did some cool stuff.  Friday, Saturday and Sunday, I saw lots of glimmers of God's Kingdom and got to taste again just how good our God is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A close friend I hadn't spoken with in years called me out of the blue and we were able to talk.  I saw evidence of God at work in bringing people to maturity.  And there were loads of expressions of the Kingdom at our Sunday gathering.  As one friend put it, he thought our church that morning was like "a light set on a hill."  I think he might be right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Lord, for your marvelous gifts!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6556664050975832803?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6556664050975832803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6556664050975832803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6556664050975832803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6556664050975832803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/04/giving-thanks.html' title='Giving thanks'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-4237065215479030328</id><published>2008-04-23T11:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T11:17:14.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Funny Story and a Plea for Help</title><content type='html'>So Megan and I went upstairs to get the girls this morning.  The usual sounds of rowdiness descended from above - banging on the sides of the crib, babbling, calls for Momma and Dadda.  But when we went into the girls' room, we found Esther pants off, diaper off, shirt mostly off (back behind her head), with a totally soaked sheet and mattress pad.  Crazy.  And funny.  And that's what makes it great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seriously, here's the plea: best Meg and I can tell, Esther is pretty close/ready to be potty train.  She shows high levels of interest, goes over to the bathroom and her potty when we think she's going potty, etc.  Yet we're having trouble figuring how to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; potty train her in the midst of the Party, if you get my meaning.  Any suggestions?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-4237065215479030328?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/4237065215479030328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=4237065215479030328' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4237065215479030328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4237065215479030328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/04/funny-story-and-plea-for-help.html' title='A Funny Story and a Plea for Help'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-4318713306574029302</id><published>2008-04-20T15:47:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T15:49:11.891-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Eden's Favorite Place</title><content type='html'>Is her seat when she's eating!  that girl loves to eat.  and she is starting to love to jabber and talk.  very cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-4318713306574029302?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/4318713306574029302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=4318713306574029302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4318713306574029302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4318713306574029302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/04/edens-favorite-place.html' title='Eden&apos;s Favorite Place'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7724360794295054142</id><published>2008-04-15T06:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T06:52:54.833-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Keys to the Kingdom</title><content type='html'>I'm reading Dallas Willard's recent book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dwillard.org/books/GreatOmission.asp"&gt;The Great Omission&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;/span&gt;It was recommended by a friend.  In the section I read last night he talked about the "keys to the kingdom."  This is a phrase from Matthew 16 in the Bible.  There, Jesus gives Peter (and the other apostles, too) these "keys to the kingdom," after his declaration of Jesus' rightful identity.  Dallas' point, and I think I agree, is that we tend to think of those keys in terms of control (especially in terms of others) - that I, or we, can control who can get in to the kingdom.  I don't think this is all wrong - I need to think about it more.  But he makes an interesting point ... that we should also understand the keys to be talking about our own &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;access&lt;/span&gt; to the kingdom of God, and our ability to enjoy it.  Think of it this way: if you're 16 and mom or dad gives you the "the keys to the car," the point isn't about you having the ability to control who gets in to the car, but about your ability to get into the car and drive it!  It is the same with the keys of the kingdom that we followers of Jesus have been given. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm starting (afresh?) to pray daily that I actually access this kingdom today.  That I enter in.  And maybe I can help others enter too.  Which is why I'm also remembering daily that God is already at work as I step out into the world; and I'm asking God for help in recognizing where he's at work and the opportunity to join in.  Meg and I have been trying this latter for the last couple of weeks with some interesting effect - lots of great conversations and the opportunity to pray for people on airplanes, in airports, at P.F. Chang's, etc.  God is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7724360794295054142?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7724360794295054142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7724360794295054142' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7724360794295054142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7724360794295054142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/04/keys-to-kingdom.html' title='The Keys to the Kingdom'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-1747237215350081890</id><published>2008-04-14T12:45:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T14:07:23.579-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Eckhart Tolle's New Earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SAOK_f7zmFI/AAAAAAAAAPo/p7dRO5MKsb0/s1600-h/A-New-Earth-Paperback-OBC-T.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SAOK_f7zmFI/AAAAAAAAAPo/p7dRO5MKsb0/s200/A-New-Earth-Paperback-OBC-T.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189144019169679442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After several emails, forwards and conversations, and a fair amount of time thinking about it, I think I might be ready to make a comment or two on the global craze that is Eckhart Tolle and his latest book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A New Earth&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you haven't heard of him, Eckhart Tolle is a spiritual teacher who has been made wildly famous by Oprah's unprecedented support of his latest book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A New Earth&lt;/span&gt;.  She's initiating book club discussion groups on the work all around the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Full disclosure: despite some insistence that I try it out, I've not read the book, but merely scanned it while standing in the aisles at Barnes &amp;amp; Noble.  I think, though, that I've got a working familiarity with the concepts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tolle is claiming that humanity has arrived at a moment of great and terrible crisis, one that is so pervasive that it threatens the whole planet.  The situation is so severe that we're in need of "a new earth."  We, all people, or at least a significant portion of the human population, must rally together and be changed, so that we can save our species and our home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a follower of Jesus and as one dedicated to leading a community of Jesus followers, I agree.  Our world is in a state of crisis, and a severe one at that.  And I think Jesus would agree; Jesus spoke and lived as if a crisis were at hand.  In fact, Tolle evokes Jesus and biblical imagery at many points.  He specifically mentions Jesus in at least one place that I read, as a great spiritual teacher who would support his understanding.  As I've thought about it, I think that Tolle is probably right - I think it likely that Jesus would agree that we're in a great crisis and in need of "a new earth."  In fact, that phrase, "A New Earth," is actually biblical language.  The biblical vision for creation is that of "a new heavens and a new earth."  So Tolle is casting a vision for hope rooted in the biblical language, and (rightly, I'm thinking) calling on Jesus as a supporter in his cause.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's about the limit to the extent in which Tolle's book could be considered biblical or in line with the biblical narrative.  In terms of method - how do we actually achieve this vision for "a new earth" - Tolle's line of thinking is rooted deeply in Buddhist philosophy and practice, with some pop-psychology and evolutionary science mixed in.  Let me make two cases in point, then sum up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tolle sees the coming into being of this "new earth" as the next (critically important) step in humanity's evolutionary progression.  Without this step, he says (or at least implies), our species suffers extinction, and with us the whole planet.  Now what I'm not wanting to do is critique the whole idea of evolution, but rather the idea that our hope for the future is part of an evolutionary progression.  To say this locates our hope in the past, or, maybe, in the present; Tolle's story says our hope lies in our being able to use the past to arise out of the present.  But the biblical narrative locates our hope for the future in the future.  According to the biblical story, our future hope rushes to meet us.  We don't rise up (by our own bootstraps) to meet God in the future, rather God comes down to us and invades our world and transforms it.  The Incarnation of Jesus, of course, is a clear expression of this, but we see it other places, too - the way Jesus describes to Nicodemus (&lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?translation=niv&amp;amp;book=Jhn&amp;amp;chapter=3#top"&gt;John 3&lt;/a&gt;) that we are "born from above;" the way the resurrected Jesus is described (in &lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?translation=niv&amp;amp;book=1Cr&amp;amp;chapter=15#top"&gt;1 Corinthians 15&lt;/a&gt;) as the firstfruits of the general resurrection of the dead that is yet to come; the way Jesus is described as descending to the earth (in &lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?translation=niv&amp;amp;book=Eph&amp;amp;chapter=4#top"&gt;Ephesians 4&lt;/a&gt;); and the poetic language of &lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?translation=niv&amp;amp;book=Rev&amp;amp;chapter=21#top"&gt;Revelation 21&lt;/a&gt;, which pictures our ultimate end (the new heavens and the new earth) as heaven coming down to earth (and not vice versa).  Making our hope out to be about our rising up through evolutionary effort, as Tolle has it, is, of course, a fairly classic Buddhist way of thinking about the spiritual life.  Jesus understood the world to have been created by a living and powerful God who loved that world and all its people so much that he would stop at nothing to see that world and his relationship with those people redeemed, restored and renewed.  But Buddhism has no god.  Instead, the Buddha taught that hrough the ages-long process of karma, we better ourselves and (hopefully) the world.  There are some surface points of similarity between the teachings of Jesus and the Buddha, but it is important to see that they are radically different below the surface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of those points of surface similarity is another important part of the "argument" Tolle is advancing.  If I understand him correctly, a necessary feature of making this evolutionary progression is by "embracing the Now."  This is where this book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A New Earth&lt;/span&gt;, builds on his previous best-seller, &lt;a href="http://eckharttolle.com/the_power_of_now"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Power of Now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.  If my understanding is correct, and I'd welcome feedback if I'm wrong, this concept of "embracing the now" is a mixture of psychological advice about not fixating on what you can't control, Buddhist philosophy about detachment, and a dressed-up gnosticism that seeks to make the inner world of the spirit as more important than the physical world of our everday.  (I think) it is designed to help us not dwell on the past nor to be anxious about the future.  Let me say that I think there can be a lot of wisdom in these ideas.  Too often we (especially in the American West) are burdened with obsessions about the past and anxieties for the future.  In fact, Tolle's teachings bear a surface similarity to Jesus' teachings in Matthew 6, especially verses &lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?book=Mat&amp;amp;chapter=6&amp;amp;version=NIV#top"&gt;25 and 34&lt;/a&gt;.  They are both saying similar things - don't be anxious, etc. - but they are getting at this through two very different means.  Best I can tell, Tolle is advocating that we arrive at this place of peace through a detached focus on the self (cf. the summary of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Power of Now&lt;/span&gt; at the link above).  Jesus, however, is saying that we arrive at this anxiety-free living by focusing on God - trusting in provision and pursuing his purposes.  Jesus says that it is only as we stop focusing on ourselves and instead trust God to provide for our needs as we pursue his purposes, that we'll know real and lasting peace and freedom from anxiety.  Which is right?  Try it and find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus practiced what he preached.  He trusted in God's provision, he pursued God's purposes first - and as a result he enjoyed a life of intimate connection with God, deep connection and compassion for others, and he knew abiding joy and peace in his personal life.  He was given to neither fear nor anxiety.  Jesus has spelled this out; he's shown us the way.  And yet we've taken his stated goal and filled it with a different method and agenda.  Why?  The power of Jesus' life is such that, even today, after 2000 years, people like Eckhart Tolle are trying to leverage on his teachings.  So why don't we just follow Jesus?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's what I think.  I think that if Jesus and Eckhart Tolle were to meet, Jesus would say, "Eckhart, follow me."  Jesus would continue, "You're right, Eckhart, there is a crisis and our hope, our need, is for a new earth.  So follow me.  Live out what I lived and taught.  Know that &lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?book=Mat&amp;amp;chapter=6&amp;amp;version=NIV#32"&gt;your Father in the heavens knows that you need all these things&lt;/a&gt;.  And join me in &lt;a href="http://www.blueletterbible.org/cgi-bin/tools/printer-friendly.pl?book=Mat&amp;amp;chapter=6&amp;amp;version=NIV#33"&gt;seeking first God's kingdom&lt;/a&gt;, and those things which make for his goodness and justice, and be assured that all these things will be added to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's some, at least, of what I think about Eckhart Tolle's new book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A New Earth&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-1747237215350081890?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/1747237215350081890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=1747237215350081890' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1747237215350081890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1747237215350081890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/04/eckhart-tolle-and-new-earth.html' title='Eckhart Tolle&apos;s New Earth'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/SAOK_f7zmFI/AAAAAAAAAPo/p7dRO5MKsb0/s72-c/A-New-Earth-Paperback-OBC-T.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6203423040217133833</id><published>2008-04-07T06:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T07:04:01.015-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus</title><content type='html'>So yesterday our church had a Next Step Lunch - a free lunch where folks newer to the church can meet one another and some leaders, and hear stories and ask questions about the church.  It is usually very fun and this time was particularly cool.  We had a great mix of people.  Anyway, one of our leaders was sharing their perspective on the church; he was talking about how he loved how "Jesus-centered" our church was - that we worshiped Jesus, followed Jesus, that every sermon was focused on Jesus.  And my heart started to melt: every time he said the word "Jesus" I got filled with this overwhelming emotion - part joy, part love, and more besides - for Jesus.  I felt like crying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very similar thing happened during the worship time at our gathering that morning.  I was just so overcome with love for Jesus, and the desire to give my life to him, to really follow him with everything I've got for all my days.  Jesus is so wonderful.  I love Jesus so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6203423040217133833?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6203423040217133833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6203423040217133833' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6203423040217133833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6203423040217133833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/04/jesus.html' title='Jesus'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-5166066319184428526</id><published>2008-04-05T08:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-05T08:53:25.860-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready for Spring</title><content type='html'>I didn't realize until this morning how ready I am for Spring.  I can tell I'm really ready for Spring because when I wake up in the morning for prayer, I've started opening up the window in my den (where I pray).  The chirping of the birds is nice and I really like the feel of the fresh air.  It makes me want to go for a walk (which I love to do when I pray).  Of course, being Michigan, Winter didn't yet get the memo that Spring is here, so I usually have to don a sweatshirt too.  That's okay.  I'm ready for Spring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-5166066319184428526?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5166066319184428526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=5166066319184428526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5166066319184428526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5166066319184428526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/04/ready-for-spring.html' title='Ready for Spring'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-5370184834434484815</id><published>2008-04-03T06:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T06:55:09.180-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Every Morning</title><content type='html'>Generally speaking, I like waking up early in the morning - to pray, and read, and have some silence and a sense of my own space.  But recently (last month or so), I've found myself just wanting to sleep in.  My alarm will go off.  I may lie there or even sit up, yet all I want to do is lay back down.  And I'm not really wanting to pray or worship.  And that's bad if you're a pastor!  I think, "Man, I feel like I was doing all this yesterday, and now I'm right back at doing it again."  I just feel tired and feel like sleeping  But I know that if I do that, I may get more sleep, but it'll come at the cost of less space and my day likely won't be better for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I get up.  I have been sleeping like 15 minutes extra, to be honest.  But I get up.  And I go to my room to spend time with God.  I've been a little reluctant many mornings, to tell the truth.  I just sit there.  In the silence.  Just sit there.  We're not talking, just sitting.  Then I'll begin to share what's on my heart or talk about my day or I'll get a sense of his presence and I might hear him speak to me.  Maybe I'll pick out a few songs to worship to (usually I'll wake up with a song in my head, almost every day, and I'll start with that), and that'll be good.  But really I've just been enjoying the quiet and the conversations that come there.  I've been reading my Bible some more, too.  For several weeks I read Psalm 16 every morning - about how, apart from the Lord, I have no good thing, and other parts.  I meditate on that and let it sink in.  I've also been reading and meditating on Lamentations 3:19-26 almost every morning for the last few weeks.  There the author tells us, of God, that his mercy is "new every morning."  I can honestly say that I've found this to be true.  And not just in a spiritual platitude sort of way, but a real way.  I wake up to pray, and I don't really feel like it.  When I sit down each morning, I'm tired and emotionally fatigued and not really wanting to go into another day.  Then I meet with God and, quite literally, I'm filled with hope; I feel joy and energy fill my body, from his grace.  I meet with God and I find that He is good and I'm ready, even willing, even expectant, to go out and into my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The faithful covenant love of the Lord is, indeed, new every morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-5370184834434484815?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5370184834434484815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=5370184834434484815' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5370184834434484815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/5370184834434484815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/04/new-every-morning.html' title='New Every Morning'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-1737722840474273771</id><published>2008-03-30T21:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T21:10:22.486-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Painting Elephant</title><content type='html'>This video is crazy.  I mean, crazy.  Its a little long, but it shows this elephant painting, and he's way better than me.  &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=He7Ge7Sogrk"&gt;Painting Elephant.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-1737722840474273771?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/1737722840474273771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=1737722840474273771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1737722840474273771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1737722840474273771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/painting-elephant.html' title='Painting Elephant'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6529811724194823336</id><published>2008-03-28T12:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T12:38:33.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Great Easter Letter</title><content type='html'>Friends,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're looking for a good read this new Easter season, consider checking out the most recent monthly newsletter of Father Richard from St. Augustine's House.  It is a great reflection on the meaning of Easter for us today.  You can find it &lt;a href="http://www.staugustineshouse.org/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6529811724194823336?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6529811724194823336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6529811724194823336' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6529811724194823336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6529811724194823336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/great-easter-letter.html' title='A Great Easter Letter'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-4234262829424575099</id><published>2008-03-28T06:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T06:31:54.864-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Early Morning Reflections</title><content type='html'>Kind of thoughtful this morning.  More than anything I just sort of sat there in the Lord's presence, like two friends who feel like spending time, but don't feel like saying much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I was thinking about was a conversation I had recently with someone about worship.  I love to sit in the front row on Sundays at our church.  You might think its because I'm the pastor, but that has very little to do with it.  In fact, I've often thought of sitting elsewhere, especially when guests come that I've invited.  Truth is, I get distracted pretty easily.  When I sit up front, I'm much less distracted by all kinds of things and I can focus in on the Lord.  That's what I want to be doing during worship.  I need more of this in my life.  If you're like me, you should try it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got to thinking about thankfulness.  I've been feeling rather busy and a little overwhelmed recently.  That's one reason I was just trying to sit there this morning.  And I was reminded of how one way I can fight the urge towards anxiety and being rushed to get the next thing done, is to stop and say "thanks" for what the Lord has done and what he is doing.  It helped.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-4234262829424575099?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/4234262829424575099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=4234262829424575099' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4234262829424575099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4234262829424575099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/two-early-morning-reflections.html' title='Two Early Morning Reflections'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-954210618419002507</id><published>2008-03-26T20:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T20:49:49.246-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Frozen Lake Huron</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R-rvEprNwcI/AAAAAAAAAOY/67HX_-XyOZ0/s1600-h/5a143d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R-rvEprNwcI/AAAAAAAAAOY/67HX_-XyOZ0/s200/5a143d.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182217184428802498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R-rvE5rNwdI/AAAAAAAAAOg/2GGU6-JMQ00/s1600-h/5a145d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R-rvE5rNwdI/AAAAAAAAAOg/2GGU6-JMQ00/s200/5a145d.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182217188723769810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R-rvE5rNweI/AAAAAAAAAOo/wOBN87FWAWU/s1600-h/5a146c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R-rvE5rNweI/AAAAAAAAAOo/wOBN87FWAWU/s200/5a146c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182217188723769826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R-rvFZrNwfI/AAAAAAAAAOw/Sy3PAGFhYQI/s1600-h/5a147c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R-rvFZrNwfI/AAAAAAAAAOw/Sy3PAGFhYQI/s200/5a147c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182217197313704434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These pictures are floating around the internet, filling up people's inboxes, so maybe that means I shouldn't post them here.  But when I stopped to actually look at them, they're amazing.  These pics of supercooled water from Lake Huron look more like Antarctica (the kind of thing you'd see on BBC's "Planet Earth").  It is a wonderful world we're privileged to enjoy.  God looked at what he had made and called it, "very good."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-954210618419002507?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/954210618419002507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=954210618419002507' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/954210618419002507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/954210618419002507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/frozen-lake-huron.html' title='Frozen Lake Huron'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R-rvEprNwcI/AAAAAAAAAOY/67HX_-XyOZ0/s72-c/5a143d.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7902403755635221956</id><published>2008-03-26T13:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T13:33:57.232-04:00</updated><title type='text'>two quotes to live by</title><content type='html'>so at lunch today, i uttered a pair of pearls of wisdom that my lunch partner thought might be worth sharing:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i don't know how people eat half of what they eat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"i never put anything in my mouth that i don't know what it is."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;words to live by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7902403755635221956?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7902403755635221956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7902403755635221956' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7902403755635221956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7902403755635221956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/two-quotes-to-live-by.html' title='two quotes to live by'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6491842149710207670</id><published>2008-03-18T17:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T17:06:42.368-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oprah's Big Give</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R-AtwsNwJtI/AAAAAAAAAOA/ce5nM2hzA6U/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R-AtwsNwJtI/AAAAAAAAAOA/ce5nM2hzA6U/s200/images.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179189886001882834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oprah has a new TV show.  You've probably heard of it.  It is called "Oprah's Big Give."  In fact, it has enough hype that I'm sure that I don't need to tell you what it is about.  She and some contestants give away lots of money to help people in tangible, and "sensational," ways.  That's nice.  I mean that, I'm pretty sure.  It is nice.  It is nice to help people and I'm glad Oprah's doing it.  Lord knows she has enough money.  I'm glad Oprah is giving money.  I really am.  I'm sure it will help people.  But I can't help being reminded of Jesus' words in Matthew 6:2: "So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others.  Truly, I tell you, they have had their reward in full."  I'm really glad Oprah is being so generous.  I'm sure it will bless others.  I'm just less sure it will really bless her too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6491842149710207670?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6491842149710207670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6491842149710207670' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6491842149710207670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6491842149710207670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/oprahs-big-give.html' title='Oprah&apos;s Big Give'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R-AtwsNwJtI/AAAAAAAAAOA/ce5nM2hzA6U/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3519243924710659036</id><published>2008-03-10T16:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T21:39:57.752-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Value of Unswerving Resolve</title><content type='html'>Okay, one more quote from my reading of this article on Winston Churchill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We hear a good deal nowadays about the dangers of excessive certitude - a necessary caution, to be sure - but very little about the virtue of unswerving resolve."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, is that good!  I have this desire to comment, but I'm not even sure I can.  Instead, I think I'll just let it sink in.  Lord, I want to be a man of unswerving resolve, in my pursuit of you and your kingdom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3519243924710659036?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3519243924710659036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3519243924710659036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3519243924710659036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3519243924710659036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/helpful-corrective.html' title='The Value of Unswerving Resolve'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-117475417087498617</id><published>2008-03-10T16:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T16:14:28.128-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Company One Keeps</title><content type='html'>There are lots of biblical proverbs that talk about the company one keeps.  "As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another."  "Bad company corrupts good character."  "There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the home of Winston Churchill, inscribed in the stone walkway of his garden, we find a modern parallel: "It does not do to wander too far from sober men."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-117475417087498617?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/117475417087498617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=117475417087498617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/117475417087498617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/117475417087498617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/company-one-keeps.html' title='The Company One Keeps'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-2636699873503241160</id><published>2008-03-10T15:55:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T16:10:13.957-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do soldiers and vets go to war?</title><content type='html'>Another quote from the "Old World Order" article from Books &amp;amp; Culture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robert Boothby, another of the political rebels who put Churchill in power, speaking on Armistice Day in 1934, to a British audience with no taste for war: "Today, tyranny has regained the upper hand in Europe, and the danger of war is as great as in 1914," he said to stony silence.  "If we simply drift along, never taking the lead ... then everything that makes life worth living will be swept away, and then indeed we shall have finally broken faith with those who lie in the fields of Flanders."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do soldiers and vets go to war?  I thought of this as I read that quote.  The reviewer points out that most of these political rebels who supported Churchill, and his policy of standing up to Hitler's tyranny, were veterans of WWI, while the politicos who supported appeasement were not.  I found that odd.  You'd think it would be the other way round.  That those who've tasted the horrors of war would want to avoid it at all costs, while those armchair generals who've never known war's pain and privation would be the first to want to go back.  But this is often not the case.  My personal observations support the facts of history.  Why is it that soldiers and vets still are willing to go to war?  Some people are prone to think it is because of their warmongering spirits or lust for violence or some such.  I think the quote from this speech gets much nearer the mark.  Soldiers and vets go to war to honor the sacrifice of their fallen comrades.  They sacrifice to honor their sacrifice.  The brotherhood of arms is real and esprit do corps, serving with the guy next to you, is the tie that binds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really resonate with this.  I mean really.  I'm something of an agnostic when it comes to war and peace.  I really want to be a pacifist, and know that one day we will live in a Kingdom of Peace, but recognize that for now this may not really be possible.  It makes me sad.  But I deeply respect the courage and camaraderie of those who serve and sacrifice out of respect for others who share a similar calling.  In fact, as Jesus followers, and those interested in peace, I think we have much to learn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-2636699873503241160?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/2636699873503241160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=2636699873503241160' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2636699873503241160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/2636699873503241160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/why-do-soldiers-and-vets-go-to-war.html' title='Why do soldiers and vets go to war?'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3091117485521027411</id><published>2008-03-10T15:39:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T15:54:59.541-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How do we create change?</title><content type='html'>I was reading in my Books &amp;amp; Culture this morning and I found a bunch of quotes from this one particular article that really grabbed my attention.  Its a review of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Troublesome Young Men: The Rebels Who Brought Churchill To Power in 1940 and Helped To Save Britain.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Because it is the most current issue, that article is not available online yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One particular quote that grabbed my attention had to do with the nature of political change.  I've been thinking quite a bit about politics and the fight for justice.  In fact, I mentioned it in passing in my sermon this past Sunday, as one response we can make when faced with the reality of evil and suffering.  But how do we really do this?  How do we cultivate change and bring about justice?  There's a great line from this article.  In talking about the cadre of young companions that helped bring Churchill to power, and their contribution to story of democracy, the reviewer offers this quote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No government can change men's souls," observed Ronald Cartland, the youngest member of the rebel group.  "The souls of men change governments."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that!  Personal transformation and social change go hand in hand, and the order is not irrelevant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3091117485521027411?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3091117485521027411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3091117485521027411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3091117485521027411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3091117485521027411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/how-do-we-create-change.html' title='How do we create change?'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3025511456387463819</id><published>2008-03-10T12:38:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T13:59:22.694-04:00</updated><title type='text'>They Can Never Catch The Wind</title><content type='html'>an excerpt from Voice of the Martyr's, Director's letter, March 2008:&lt;br /&gt;    "For 36 years I have watched them try to catch the wind: His invisible Holy Spirit that works through us and among us around the world.  The enemies of the gospel try to catch this wind so they can destroy it.  They imprison Christians using chains, boards, iron plates, bars, stone, earth, bamboo, ropes, cement or wire.  ...&lt;br /&gt;    "Under the cover of our weak, imperfect flesh, the gospel advances.  We are a part of God's strategy to spread His indestructible Kingdom where and when it is least expected.&lt;br /&gt;    "During his 14 years in prison, Romanian pastor Richard Wurmbrand was terribly tortured, yet Communist Colonel Sandu Franco was stunned when interrogating his victim.  Wurmbrand had once been an atheist like him.  Leaving the prison, Colonel Franco returned hom to his wife and declared, 'Something is wrong with me!  I am sick.  I have never met anyone like this man in my whole life.'&lt;br /&gt;    "The colonel was surprised by two forces unknown to him - agape love and godly humility - against which the world has no defense.  In tryig to catch the wind, the wind caught him and brought him into eternal life.  Colonel Franco became a Christian and also went to prison.&lt;br /&gt;    "The wind is not dependent upon time or place to be released. It is not for us to decide.  During my imprisonment in Cuba, I was dragged out of the refrigerated cell to sit before Captain Santos.  I began to silently pray for him.  HE asked me what I was doing.  I explained that he was cold - not myself, and the God love could warm him up.  He seemed flustered.&lt;br /&gt;    "The next time the guards brought me to sit before him, he was wearing sunglasses so I could not see his eyes.  ...&lt;br /&gt;    "During the months of interrogation, the captain brought in other officers to meet me.  It seemed as though they regarded me as a curiosity.  Perhaps the wind brushed against them as well. ... We do not have to be distraught if someone rejects our testimony.  We are simply vessels of clay.  The wind is able to take advantage of any event, any circumstance.  The results are always up to God.&lt;br /&gt;    "I had dinner last night with a Chinese family whose sister had been released from two-and-a-half years of prison in Hunan province. ...&lt;br /&gt;    "This young, Christian woman was able to share the gospel with more than 200 women prisoners as they engaged in intense forced labor, making light bulbs.  At night, they were so tightly packed while sleeping on the floor, they all had to turn over at the same time.  ...&lt;br /&gt;    "During this time, about 100 women accepted Christ.  [The woman] baptized them with her rationed cup of cold water.  She was so compassionate and gracious and brought such peace to her wing of the prison, she was made a section leader.  Some of the prison guards cried when she was released.  This was their first time to brush against the wind, the Spirit of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;    "Our testimony of the resurrected Christ does not guarantee us a life free from fear.  The Pakistanis you will read about this month, and the other believers with whom we work in dozens of nations, all have moments of fear; just as you might when called upon to be His witness.  Yet, the Holy Spirit is more powerful than fear, allowing us to demonstrate courage and love even in the presence of our enemies.  Someone once said, 'Courage is not the absence of fear, but the belief that there is something more important than our fear.'  ...&lt;br /&gt;    "Those who try to catch the wind burn church buildings in Nigeria, but cannot burn what they cannot see.  They weld doors shut in China, trying to keep Christians inside.  They nail church doors shut in Indonesia, trying to keep Christians outside.  They shoot Christians in Colorado in an act of hatred.  Enemies of the gospel try to catch the wind using every kind of weapon to attack Christianity - gasoline, welding torches, nails, bullets or even secular news media - but they can never succeed.  God opens doors which no one can shut.  Let us ride His resurrection wind, graciously lifting up our Savior.  Just as He caught us, He will catch some of them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;--- Tom White"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;There is lots to love in this letter.  Probably my favorite part is the quote about courage.  Courage is not the absence of fear, but holding to something more important, more powerful, than our fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3025511456387463819?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3025511456387463819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3025511456387463819' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3025511456387463819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3025511456387463819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/they-can-never-catch-wind.html' title='They Can Never Catch The Wind'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7437695426978387052</id><published>2008-03-09T19:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T19:56:46.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jim the Wannabe Westside Kitty Ninja</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R9R5H8NwJpI/AAAAAAAAANg/iPqSQv8xIkM/s1600-h/0309081751.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R9R5H8NwJpI/AAAAAAAAANg/iPqSQv8xIkM/s200/0309081751.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175895049085396626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me at a recent youth group night&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7437695426978387052?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7437695426978387052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7437695426978387052' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7437695426978387052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7437695426978387052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/jim-wannabe-westside-kitty-ninja.html' title='Jim the Wannabe Westside Kitty Ninja'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_fmDd_MP0_po/R9R5H8NwJpI/AAAAAAAAANg/iPqSQv8xIkM/s72-c/0309081751.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-3480396305362352613</id><published>2008-03-07T08:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T08:10:08.014-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Book!</title><content type='html'>Anne Rice's newest book, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1400043522/ref=s9_asin_image_1_sims_c6_250633_104107_12223_37319_7753_37365_4698_4749-f9_p_c_f_p-qvfp_g1-2785_g1?pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&amp;amp;pf_rd_s=center-5&amp;amp;pf_rd_r=08C74R9W4B4MFEFASC42&amp;amp;pf_rd_t=101&amp;amp;pf_rd_p=320449001&amp;amp;pf_rd_i=507846"&gt;Christ The Lord: The Road To Cana&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; is here. I'm excited.  Her last book on the life of Christ, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Out of Egypt&lt;/span&gt; was great.  I didn't really even realize that it was coming, and then, suddenly, it was being released.  And now I get to read it.  Yeah.  From vampire author to writing a faithful fictional account of the life of Jesus.  God is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-3480396305362352613?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3480396305362352613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=3480396305362352613' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3480396305362352613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/3480396305362352613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/new-book.html' title='A New Book!'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-1964460452343733963</id><published>2008-03-03T12:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T12:49:57.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Eden the Eatin' Machine</title><content type='html'>Eden's favorite pastime, without a doubt, is eating.  Megan had to attend a staff meeting for her new job early last Tuesday morning, so I was on solo duty for wake up and breakfast.  The girls are always hungry - and Esther is thirsty, too - right when they wake up.  Megan is the same way, but for Eli and I, we usually are happy to wait an hour or more.  So I sit Eden and Esther down in their chairs and gave 'em some food.  Esther - done after like 10 minutes.  Eden - and I kid you not - ate for at least 45 minutes &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;non-stop&lt;/span&gt;, maybe longer.  And she probably still ate a snack like 2 hours later.  The girl is almost always hungry.  Amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-1964460452343733963?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/1964460452343733963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=1964460452343733963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1964460452343733963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/1964460452343733963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/eden-eatin-machine.html' title='Eden the Eatin&apos; Machine'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-4099035939317408519</id><published>2008-03-03T12:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T12:44:10.599-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Monday Midday Mountain</title><content type='html'>Eli, on the other hand, loves to make a midday mountain.  In fact, right now he's sitting up on top of it, reading his book on space.  On top of our big green couch he's piled up the cushions from three couches, his bed, and the daybed downstairs, along with a couple of blankets and his stuffed animal polar bear (affectionately called, "Poli") to build this mountain.  It is very cute, even if a bit messy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-4099035939317408519?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/4099035939317408519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=4099035939317408519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4099035939317408519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/4099035939317408519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/monday-midday-mountain.html' title='The Monday Midday Mountain'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-394836708113428142</id><published>2008-03-03T12:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T12:41:07.853-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Esther's Boombox</title><content type='html'>Do you know those refrigerator magnet ABC boxes, the ones where you put the magnetized letter into it and it says what it is?  If you have a kid, then you probably know what I'm talking about.  And if you've visited a house with kids, then you've probably seen it without realizing it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, one of Esther's favorite things to do is to pull that thing off the fridge, press the button for the Alphabet song, and then put it up to her ear and walk around with a bop in her step.  Its her little boombox.  Eden has even taken to modeling her, too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been able to get a picture of this yet, because every time I go to capture the moment, Esther sees me and then hams it up for the camera.  So no dice.  But we'll keep trying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-394836708113428142?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/394836708113428142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=394836708113428142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/394836708113428142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/394836708113428142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/03/esthers-boombox.html' title='Esther&apos;s Boombox'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-6595180897752502898</id><published>2008-02-29T06:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T06:41:31.225-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Preach it, Greg Boyd!</title><content type='html'>For a few months now I've been slowing working my way through &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God At War: The Bible &amp;amp; Spiritual Conflict&lt;/span&gt;, by Greg Boyd.  I've been picking up the pace this last week.  If you follow such things, you may know that Boyd is a bit of a controversial figure in the world of Christian authors.  Yet there should be no controversy in the following excerpt, a wonderful section where Dr. Boyd begins to get his preach on:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"... the Lord is using us earthly benefactors of his cosmic victory (the church) to display to the angelic society of the heavenly realms, including the now defeated powers, the greatness of the Creator's wisdom in defeating his foes.  We who used to be captives of the Satanic kingdom now the very ones who proclaim its demise.  ... we evidence God's brilliance and power in bringing about the destruction of his foes, and thus the liberation of his people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a strictly natural level this plan appears absurd.  For it is painfully obvious that the church is, and has always been, full of a great deal that does not in any way glorify God.  Let us be honest: the church has always been a very human and fallen institution, exhibiting all the carnality, pettiness, narrowness, self-centeredness and abusive power tendencies that characterize all other fallen institutions.  On the surface we hardly look like trophies God would want to showcase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we must understand, however, is that far from disqualifying us from this divine service, this radical incongruity between what the church looks like and what God nevertheless uses it for is precisely the reason why God uses it.  The church unambiguously proclaims the glory of God to the angelic society, and especially to the defeated principalities and powers, precisely by lacking any 'glory' of its own to proclaim.  The church's very weakness and vulnerability is what displays the strength of God in freeing us and in using us to finish up his battles. ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is consistent with how God has operated throughout history.  He has always chosen to use the foolish and weak things of the world to overthrow the "wise" and the "strong" in the world who resist him.  ... so the Lord now chooses to carry out his coup de grace of the enemy by the foolishness of his church, these weak, struggling, imperfect people whose only qualification for warfare is that they have said yes to the Lord's gracious invitation to be set free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... We the church, in all our foolishness, are called to manifest on earth and in heaven Christ's kingdom-building ministry, taking what is already true in principle because of what he has done and manifesting it as accomplished reality by what we do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... Just as our redemption is a feature of Christ's broader cosmic accomplishments, so too the church's passion to save individuals should be a feature of our burden to manifest Christ's victory over his cosmic foes in all areas of life. ... Since part of God's goal all along has been to restore humans to their rightful place as caring (not tyrannizing) stewards of the earth, the church can hardly dismiss ecological concerns as being outside the parameters of its "spiritual" interests. ... So, too, since Christ has in principle defeated the fallen 'gods' who have for ages inspired injustice, cruelty and apathy toward the weak, the poor, the oppressed and the needy, the church can hardly carry out its role in manifesting, on earth and in heaven, Christ's victory over these gods without taking up as a central part of its mission just these causes. ... if Christ on the cross has in fact torn down the racial wall of separation that divided people-groups, and if his Spirit now seeks to manifest this by reversing the effects of the catastrophe at the tower of Babel, then the church has no choice but to seek to manifest this reality as intensely as we have sought to manifest the reality that the forgiveness for our individual sins was purchased at the cross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... We proclaim Christ's truth by praying it, speaking it and (undoubtedly most importantly) by demonstrating it.  ... following the example of our Lord and Savior, and going forth with the confidence that he has in principle already defeated his (and our) foes, we are to revolt against the evil aspects of our world as coming from the devil's hand.  Our revolt is to be broad - as broad as the evil we seek to confront, and as broad as the work of the cross we proclaim.  Wherever there is destruction, hatred, apathy, injustice, pain or hopelessness, whether it concerns God's creation, a structural feature of society, or the physical, psychological or spiritual aspects of an individual, we are in word and deed to proclaim to the evil powers that be, 'You are defeated.'  As Jesus did, we proclaim this by demonstrating it."  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(excerpted pgs. 252-255)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preach it!  Glory!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-6595180897752502898?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6595180897752502898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=6595180897752502898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6595180897752502898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/6595180897752502898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/02/preach-it-greg-boyd.html' title='Preach it, Greg Boyd!'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7890908543033358560</id><published>2008-02-26T06:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T06:42:16.427-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do I take it with me?</title><content type='html'>I do this thing I don't really like.  Sometimes I bring with me into today the burdens and disappointments of yesterday.  It is a bad habit.  It makes it that much harder to live in today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus said that each day has enough trouble of its own.  He's right.  So who needs to carry around the burdens and disappointments of yesterday, or anxieties about tomorrow? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord, help.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7890908543033358560?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7890908543033358560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7890908543033358560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7890908543033358560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7890908543033358560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/02/why-do-i-take-it-with-me.html' title='Why do I take it with me?'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-176248588766963785</id><published>2008-02-25T15:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T15:57:37.072-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Integrity Reimagined</title><content type='html'>When we hear the word integrity, we tend to think of not cheating on taxes, or not lying to your spouse about why you were out late.  That is, I suppose, a bear bones definition, but it seriously undermines the real power of the word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Henry Cloud, on page 31 of his book &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Integrity&lt;/span&gt;, expands our thinking in this way: "The origins of the word we can see in the French and Latin meanings of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;intact, integrate, integral, &lt;/span&gt;and&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; entirety&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  The concept means that the "whole thing is working well, undivided, integrated, intact, and uncorrupted."  When we are talking about integrity, we are talking about being a whole person, an integrated person, with all of our different parts working well and delivering the functions that they were designed to deliver.  It is about &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wholeness&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;effectiveness&lt;/span&gt; as people.  It truly is "running on all cylinders."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't it be great to be that kind of person?  Or to be a person living that way?  When I read Dr. Cloud's definition, I think of the freedom that Jesus wants to bring us.  I think of the gospel of wholeness, and how this is a significant part of the good news that Jesus brings us - namely, that this kind of life is possible for us and he can empower us and show us how to live it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-176248588766963785?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/176248588766963785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=176248588766963785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/176248588766963785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/176248588766963785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/02/integrity-reimagined.html' title='Integrity Reimagined'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-7867368634608668199</id><published>2008-02-25T15:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T15:50:31.957-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='church planting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leadership'/><title type='text'>"It is the people."</title><content type='html'>"Why don't you do what a lot of those rich guys do who are at your level of wealth?" I asked my friend.  "They start buying sports teams, or airlines, and things like that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because I don't know anything about those businesses," he said.  "My own business is really all I know at very significant levels.  So, I don't try to get into businesses that I don't understand."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But that's not true," I said.  "I know of other businesses that you invest in.  You have told me about some."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, that is not right.  I never invest in businesses other than my own."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But what about ..." and I went on to list about five that I knew of that he had big investments in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I did not invest in those &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;businesses&lt;/span&gt;.  I invested in the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;people&lt;/span&gt;.  I never invest in businesses I don't know anything about, but I will invest in a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;person&lt;/span&gt;.  If I know their character, their history, how they operate, what kind of judgment they have, what kind of risks are acceptable to them, how they execute, and things like that, and I know them &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;well&lt;/span&gt;, I will invest.  But I don't go buy businesses I don't know anything about."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.... All I could do was reflect on what he had said.  It was such a clear picture of what makes for success.  It is not always the "market" or the "strategy" or the "resources."  It is the people.  ... They come up with a way to make it work.  ... if you don't have the people he was talking about, then you can lose in a great market with a great strategy and a ton of resources.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;excerpted from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Integrity: Courage to meet the demands of reality&lt;/span&gt;, Dr. Henry Cloud, pgs. 29-30&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a great story and insight into what's involved in developing leaders, particularly in the church.  People are the key.  This is especially true when it comes to church planting.  As a sending pastor, assessor or coach, what we're looking for are people.  We're looking for men and women of character who've proven themselves over time.  Persons of integrated character can succeed even in the face of difficulty, while persons without this kind of integrated character can fail even in the best of circumstances. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Certainly we see Jesus engaging in this kind of behavior.  On the surface, the Twelve probably did not have much going for them on paper, in terms of strategies and resources.  But it seems clear that Peter and Matthew and John and James and Thomas more than made up for it in terms of integrated character able to overcome in the face of adverse challenges.  May we be people who invest first and foremost in people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-7867368634608668199?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/7867368634608668199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=7867368634608668199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7867368634608668199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/7867368634608668199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/02/it-is-people.html' title='&quot;It is the people.&quot;'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3610696778785588336.post-8140597920110985821</id><published>2008-02-25T15:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T15:33:06.929-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ethiopia'/><title type='text'>Some facts and a thought about Ethiopia</title><content type='html'>1.  70 million people - 3rd largest country in Africa&lt;br /&gt;2.  50% are under 17&lt;br /&gt;3.  roughly 25-40% of the population is Muslim, with a fairly strong cultural influence&lt;br /&gt;4.  It is the birthplace of civilization, or, really, humanity.  Civilization began in Mesopotamia.&lt;br /&gt;5.  But they did invent coffee!  Thank you, Kaldi!&lt;br /&gt;6.  But probably one of the things of greatest interest to me about Ethiopia is the fact that it is relatively hidden and obscure.  It is a nation rich with history and legacy, and yet, for the most part, it is overlooked, passed by in the sweep of history and the great powers.  This excites me.  Not only does it mean that American culture is ubiquitous, it is also in these kinds of strategic and out of the way places that God loves to break in with His Kingdom, and that is just what He seems to be doing there right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3610696778785588336-8140597920110985821?l=jimspoolparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/feeds/8140597920110985821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3610696778785588336&amp;postID=8140597920110985821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8140597920110985821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3610696778785588336/posts/default/8140597920110985821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jimspoolparty.blogspot.com/2008/02/some-facts-and-thought-about-ethiopia.html' title='Some facts and a thought about Ethiopia'/><author><name>Jim</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06485015622243711729</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
