Lessons from my little brother

Everyone else in the world was getting $10 to $20 a week for doing nothing. Somehow, in the middle of spring, back in the early 90’s, we managed to negotiate an allowance of $5 a week if we did our chores. I still remember hauling the trash all the way to the other side of the yard and securing them in the bins behind the camper. (Even using a push mower to cut ½ the yard). My other friends didn’t have to do anything specifically – just stay out of trouble I guess, and the green would fly. My brother and I, on the other hand, had to work for it. But, we were finally moving up in the world at $5 a week. We saved our money from month to month and when the time came, we could get virtually whatever we wanted at the store.
I was in love with dinosaurs and Dino-riders were all the craze. These humans and space creatures lived in a world where they harnessed the power of dinosaurs for transportation, work, and war. The evil dinos were controlled by electrode metal helmets, or masks, that were branded on them. Of course, the humans didn’t manipulate dino brain waves, they simply trained and cared for them. But, that’s far more than you need to know. The point is, I spent my afternoons arranging these scenarios and battles and I just had to have every dino-rider in the collection.
I had already spent my allowance the week before, so my purchasing power was limited that day. My brother, on the other hand, had over $25 saved up when we walked in Kmart that evening. On the 3rd toy isle, bottom shelf, sandwiched between the other dino-rider gear, was the T-rex - the largest and my favorite. Until now, I hadn’t been able to find it anywhere. Even Lionel Toy Warehouse was sold out. Of course, I had a fit. I begged. I pleaded. I cried. I even bartered for a cash-advance – but my mom would have none of it. I had less than $10 and there was no way I was going home with a T-rex that day. In the midst of that unruly scene, which lasted for our entire trip to Kmart that evening, my brother made an unlikely gesture.
Just before we were leaving, he offered to give me the rest of the money I needed to buy the T-rex. I went home with the most awesome walking dinosaur you could get in 1990. And my brother went home that day with a pack of plastic green army soldiers for less than $2.
It wasn’t the last time he gave up something of himself for me so that I might be able to have what I wanted or so that I might be happy. From the beginning, my brother always had the gift of a compassionate heart. Over the years, as I’ve looked back on some of those moments, I’ve been ashamed at some of my actions and reactions toward my little brother and continually amazed about the lessons he was teaching me. As I considered the stories of David and Jonathan and our call to friendship, I realize I’ve been far more on the receiving end of those friendships than perhaps I’ve ever been on the self-giving end.

Fish eggs in the chimney

This weekend I was called into the kitchen. "Norman," my wife yelped. The "come here right now" was filled in by the tone and pitch in her voice. "Look at this," she said as we hovered over the stove top. "What? What is it?" "Something gross," she said. I must point out that my wife keeps a beautiful kitchen. She's always punctual about cleaning up behind herself or putting away things when she's finished with them. Well trained in her early childhood, I imagine, and orderly. If there's anything stacked up or messed up in the kitchen, 9 out 10 times, that would be my fault. I may be the dishwasher, but I tend to put that off for 6-18 hours if possible. Whatever this thing was on the stove, I assumed it was something to do with me, or an insect, or something to do with an old parsonage. I was only able to see it once she had picked it up with a cleaning cloth and again I inquired what it was. "I don't know. Fish eggs in the chimney or something." Fish eggs in the chimney. Wow! We had been going too fast and for too long. These last two weeks were a bit stressful and overwhelming for us both and we really needed a break for just a day or two. We'd been hearing things (our cat too) that sounded like they were coming from the chimney last week and came to the conclusion it must be some of the barn swallows at the house flying and perching around the chimney. What she meant to say was bird eggs in the chimney, but the damage was already done. We've had next to no rain in the last 2 weeks but somehow there were now fish eggs in the chimney. It was official, we had reached burnout and we would be taking the next two days off from the lake in the sky to head to the ocean by the shore. If you ever have fish eggs in the chimney, I recommend it. I think it's just the remedy needed - that, and a few extra hours of sleep. As for the fish eggs...well, it turned out to be a small piece of broccoli that had fallen out of the stir-fry earlier in the week and somehow managed to avoid my wife's tidy kitchen abilities. May you find sabbath space and time today.

Messy life & blog titles

It's been nice to have my wife home a few days this summer. Life moves so fast at times and our schedules so different - even in LA. Last month was our 3 year anniversary. Life is indeed good. But, life together is all the more beautiful. Not like a sunset, or a postcard, or a national park beautiful. More like - stuck on the side of the road w/ a flat tire in the pouring rain, but there's no one else i'd rather be stuck with - beautiful. Life is very, very messy. If someone famous didn't once say that, they should have. It is, after all, the intricate, ornate, messiness that makes it beautiful. Over the last three years we've been blessed to navigate these washed-out trails, grueling switchbacks, and unmarked trails together.

For those of you following this blog for a while now or if you've just recently stumbled over it, you're probably wondering why in the world the name of your blog is so long (or where in the world would you come up with a title like 'those to whom love is a stranger')? I'm glad u asked. Well, when I decided to begin the blog this Lent, I found some inspiration from a fellow colleague and respected elder in the WNC Conference who titles his blog 'Bear witness to the love of God in this world.' As soon as I saw the title, I knew where he had taken the language and I knew what my blog would be called. It comes from the wedding liturgy as a benediction in the UM Book of Worship for a Service of Christian Marriage. If there was one thing i paid significant detail to for our wedding - it was the order of service. As we looked over it together, one thing we both absolutely loved and easily agreed upon was choosing the benediction to be: "Bear witness to the love of God in this world, so that those to whom love is a stranger may find in you generous friends." It was the charge to the entire congregation and a charge to us, a newly wed couple. We've never forgotten those words. I pray we never will. They meant so much to us in that moment because there we were experiencing a measure of the fullness of God's love in relationship with each other, and yet at the same time we were deeply aware of so many all over the world (and some right there in our own friends and family) for whom love is a stranger.

To blog and write has been a great discipline for me thus far. Part of my hope is that maybe, just maybe, these reflections, as i too journey on through this life in stages, might somehow be a spark for those to whom love is a stranger. Life is messy. Love is elusive, even foreign. What's new? But in our deepest being, it's there. And, if we're lucky, it's embodied by those we meet along the way. May those to whom love is a stranger find in you (a) generous friend.