LaughingSeven

I generally don’t engage in political discussions because it’s an area that I have historically had very little interest in (for a number of reasons I won’t go into here) nor have I had much understanding or knowledge of how government/politics works (Sorry Ms. Smith, your 9th grade Social Studies class wasn’t THAT bad). But this morning is different. I’m going to briefly offer a few thoughts on Obama for president given that he was on primetime last night. Much of these thoughts are the result of questions I have been asking myself, even though I’m unsure of what specifically those questions are in written form. I digress.

As a matter of theological/philosophical standing, I love Obama’s offering of hope. This blog, though not maintained on a regular basis, was founded with the idea that there is more; more hope. From an emotional standpoint, Obama speaks clearly to me that America, ahem the United States, can and should offer more to the world. And it is promised that he can deliver this change, this hope. And I agree … there is plenty more that we as a country can and should be doing. 

Watching his speech last night at the DNC in Denver, I kept wondering who this man was. My wife and I talked about the emotions on people’s faces as they watched and listened to Obama speak, both noting that on many occasions there seemed to be an air of awe and worship as those in attendance literally screamed, wept, and facially bowed at him and his offerings of hope. Being a therapist, I realize that hope does some crazy shit to people (not to mention me personally). It’ll make folks angry (as I saw on the faces of Hillary Clinton and Al Gore as they each took the podium at the DNC), it’ll make others sad for what should be, and it’ll make others so giddy with excitement that their serotonin levels are probably through the roof. All this to say that Obama creates a lot of buzz (captain obvious, here).

This morning, I am wondering what to do with Obama. My story and theology tell me that I cannot place my hope in humanity. Personally there is danger to believe in the promise and offering of hope in someone, anyone, I have never personally met, let alone someone I do know. But ultimately what scares me about Obama is the god-like status that he seems to command and get from people. Is his god-like status about the message or the man? My guess is that there is some of both … and I realize that my personal hermeneutic comes into play here, so perhaps this entire brain dump is all for naught (though I hope not). But as I watched him speak last night, I couldn’t get away from the faces of those watching/listening to him. There is/was a strange sense of fear mixed with relief that finally, finally we have a person/place/idea to put our (collective) hope. And again, that scares the hell out of me. 

It feels premature to end my thoughts now, but I’m unsure of where else to go. 

So I’ve got a lot happening in the next 6 weeks. I write this to relieve my anxiety of the unknown represented in the following:

- finish classes. June 24th
- finish papers. July 3rd
- pack house, and move out by July 31
- buy a house in nashville by n/a
- pack moving van/trailer and ship furniture/shit to Nashville. have a place to unload items/shit from truck/van/trailer when it arrives in nashville
- Family vacation with my family in Estes Park Aug 9-16.
- School starts for Peterson in Nashville on Aug 15th.
- find a job
- find time to relax and vacate life after the past 24 months of 100% exhaustion.

I have NO IDEA how to get all of the above accomplished in the next 8 weeks. Ideas?

Yeah, Seattle is a grey city. Lots of clouds, lots of rain, and lots of everything relating to hiding the sun. Well, you know that you live in Seattle when one day you are walking through your house and every 5 feet on the walls there is a blue stickey-note with a yellow-highlighter-drawn sun on the note. I guess this is how Peterson is telling us that he misses the sun. 

Did I mention that it’s June, and the sun is still veiled? 

Last year around this same time, I posed a question “What is this place” on my blog. The question was cryptic at best as my effort to go into more than just the question itself was not there. However, a month later put a little more effort into that question with the post, There. Is. More..

Today, I’m at the same place wondering what is this place (MHGS), and how is it that I hope and call myself and others to more. I’ve spent the past year wondering if I had it in me to search for more. It is impossible for me to deny the need for a voice to call others to more….and I wonder how I can call the institution of Mars Hill Graduate School to more:

More responsibility, More truth, and More gospel.

If we truly believe that the gospel is all it’s cracked up to be (especially here at MHGS), then our pursuit for what that gospel is should stop at nothing. The problem is, what is that gospel? Specifically in the context of MHGS, what is the gospel that is taught and encouraged? What we’re taught is that the gospel is the belief that any story can be redeemed …. regardless of how that story was created. And that’s the problem.

I’m convinced that the mission of MHGS has become so engrained in the walls of the school that the very glory we all seek is seemingly found in the creation of disruption and chaos. A far cry from stepping into the story of chaos and disruption …. not the creation of it. 

I was in the middle of my 1st semester and with 6 weeks left in the semester, I had 19 Papers to be written …

This year at the same time …. Only 8 papers. Thank goodness too, as baby #3 (due to arrive in the next 2 weeks) will disrupt those 8 papers.

One of my professors, Roy Barsness, constantly gets on us for not reading the news. So this post is in honor of Roy….

Trailer Park in Florida heaven to sex offenders. Nearly half of the residents are registered sex offenders. Article Link

A Middle School (yes, that’s right, grades 1-6) in Maine is going to be offering birth control due to a recent outbreak of pregnancies. These pills will be available to girls at the school as young as 11 years young. Article Link

Four people, 2 kids and 2 adults, were killed in their sleep last night in Detroit. Article Link

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Too often I read headlines and stories like the ones above and say to myself “man, this world is so messed up.” While that is true, it completely alleviates the need for me to feel anything for any of these people. It’s easy to hate the sex offenders because they have done something that is so wrong and such a violation to those they offended. It’s easy to mock at the 11-year olds having sex and getting pregnant…and then to fire bullets at the school system for not doing a darn thing about real issues with these kids. And then it’s easy to see the murder of a family and feel next to nothing because this happens every day, in every state, country, and continent…so why should I feel something for this Detroit family when I can barely remember what it felt like for the family last week that suffered the same fate?

The Fall season is my favorite season of the year. You literally have to be blind to not see the beauty that surrounds us, and my guess is that even the blind can see and taste the beauty: The colors changing, the wind blowing the leaves around, and the air becoming crisper. This is the seasons to feel change, to feel beauty, and to feel pain. Because I know in a few weeks, those leaves are going to be brown, and the trees will be bare, and it’ll be time to bundle up and go inside. So today I enjoy the leaves, the air, the wind, and the smells of fall. And I feel the groans of the earth and of those who inhabit it.

We live in a beautifully glorious place that at the same time is dark, cold, and wet (not just Seattle). I’d rather it be one or the other, because seeing beauty and darkness at the same time is usually too much.

Why is it that I feel like a stranger in my own surroundings? Strange this is to me.

The weather is changing
my school is changing
my schedule is changing
my house is changing
my walk is changing

Is there anything that isn’t changing?

Location: San Francisco, CA

Sunday morning we get up at 7:30 and leave hotel at 8:15. Our hope is to drive 2 hours to Carmel, CA (quaint city by the ocean) and hang out there for a bit before our flight leaves San Jose at 5:45.

One hour into the drive from San Fran to Carmel, we run into a triathlon….the biking portion. We’re driving on highway 1 (beautiful scenic byway that goes along the coast), so for an hour and a half or so I’m driving two-fisted on the wheel at roughly 20-30 mph dodging bikers on both sides of the roads. Think Tour-de-France with open roads. There where over 2,000 bikers. Until the triathlon, our trip had been amazing. Usually we encounter at least 2 or 3 situations in travel that border on insane, so the fact that our trip had gone by without a problem until now was pretty amazing.

We finally make it to Carmel at 12:30 (2 hours later than expected due to said triathlon) and get lunch at an awesome Italian bistro: Great food and great company. We walk around the town for an hour, and then hop back in the car to drive to San Jose to fly home.

Our flight leaves at 5:43. We get to the airport (hardly worth calling an airport… more like a place that has airplanes, and that’s it) at 4:20, and are a little nervous about making our flight. This fear is quickly thrown out the window when we walk into the-place-that-has-airplanes and see the ticket counter, the security screening, and the departure gate all within 30 feet of each other. I was afraid they’d ask me to help fly the plane, or at least help load the luggage on the plane.

The strange thing is that this is an international airport. Either the folks at San Jose don’t believe Seattle is apart of the United States or they make one flight a year to an airport situated on the border of the US where the wheels of the plane roll over the border during landing and thus can be considered international. In either case, this is not the picture of an international airport that will be featured in any airline or airport (or place that has airplanes) documentary.

So, back to the story. We get to the airport…er…place-that-has-airplanes at 4:20 and are sitting at the gate by 4:25. I could have made it through the security screening 200 times by the time our flight was to depart (not that’d I want to by the way). Anyway the boarding call comes at 5:15…. Ooops, that was for the wrong flight. That was for the Boise flight departing at the gate next to our flight. So they board the Boise folks.

This is where the fun begins.

We’re next to board. They call for us to board at roughly 5:30, which is a little late, but no big deal. A hundred ore more folks (in a room that now feels no bigger than a ) get in line to board. After the first 10 passengers board, the line stops moving. No moving for 10 minutes. We’re all in line wondering what’s going on. Rumors make their way through the line that the flight might be a ‘no go’.

Then this: “Ladies and gentleman, the pilot has found a problem with your aircraft and is looking into the problem right now. You can be seated as it’ll be a few minutes before we know anything.”

Rumblings throughout the terminal (The entire terminal is literally the size of a big Starbucks coffee shop).

So we sit. I go up to the counter to check on options in case our flight doesn’t leave tonight. There’s another flight leaving San Jose at 8:05 (2+ hours later). Well, at least we have options.

Thirty minutes later, they tell us that the flap on the right wing has gone awry. They’re waiting for the mechanic to check out the problem and should know something in 15-20 minutes. Time is now 5:55. I make my way to the ticket counter, and all of a sudden there is a hoard of folks coming through the gate next to us (the Boise gate).

Through mumblings, I hear that their plane (the Boise one) is now grounded with engine failure. Their flight is cancelled. Sucks for them, but I’m getting out of this damn airport-er-place-that-has-airplanes tonight to see my kids. I get booked on the 8pm flight, and a smile of my resourcefulness is seen on my face (I got two of 12 seats on this later flight). My wife loves me. I love me. My kids love me. I am the greatest….

I am hungry.

Stephanie is pregnant and is hungrier. The people at the desk tell us that food vouchers are available for those of us who are waiting on the flights (which is all 3-400 in this room), just get in line… Remember, two flights have now been cancelled (or postponed) so now people are spanning (I use the term spanning very very loosely) 4 gates with 8 flights supposed to depart within the next 2-3 hours. You should read this as “LOTS of people in the room.

So, the line for the meal vouchers is long. I wait for an hour and decide that my $12 of cash is worth more than their $12 of vouchers given that it’ll take me another hour to get the voucher in my hands, and then I’ll have to stand in line for the food. The hits keep on coming.

I buy dinner at Joe Bob’s sandwich shack (amazing there was a place with food in this ‘place that has airplanes’). After dinner, 7:20pm or so, the plane with the flap failure (our original flight at 5:45) is having a part driven down from Oakland so that it can be fixed. This part is rumored to consist of match sticks, bubble gum, and some silly string. But hey, whatever works…right?

Meanwhile, the Bosie flight (with the engine failure) is rumored to begin boarding in the next hour. Good for them. We’re happy for them, we’re happy for us as we have a flight scheduled to leave at 8pm, and we’ll be home by 10:30 or so.

Wrong.

I learn from the airline folks (at this point I should mention that a grand total of 4 flight attendants are working 3 gates for the 8 flights) that 3 planes in Seattle scheduled to depart for Northern California (including the 8:00 flight we’re supposed to leave on) are all grounded due to mechanical failures. Yeah, that’s right. At least 5 planes all bound for either San Jose, Seattle, or Boise are all grounded with mechanical failures.

So now our plane in Seattle supposed to depart from San Jose at 8:00 PM hasn’t even left Seattle (it’s 7:30 now) and won’t be in San Jose until at least 10pm. The flap on the other plane is still broken (evidently the bubble gum and silly string isn’t working) and there’s little end in sight.

But wait, there’s more. We find out that San Francisco (45 min from San Jose) has a flight leaving at 9:05. We might be able to make that flight. So we, along with 6 other hopeful stranded passengers, hop on a van to be driven to SFO (San fran airport… yes, it’s an airport and it has planes) in hopes of getting on that flight.

After an uneventful drive (amazing, we know) we arrive at the SF airport at 8:15. The plane boards at 8:30. We make it through the security just fine, and get to the gate at 8:25. I see the plane out the window (note, the San Jose airport doesn’t have windows. not sure if it’s underground….or maybe under water, I still never saw a single plane, or passenger, leave the building through a gate). So I see the plane out the window, and I’m thrilled. We’re finally going home.

I then hear “Ladies and gentlemen there is a problem on the jetway. We’re switching to gate 22 for this flight.”

Are you kidding me?

Again?

Another delay?

Thankfully that was the last eventful happening in our trip. We got on board, in first class thanks to my superior negotiating skills with the Alaska Air attendants, and made it all the way to Seattle. Thanks to some baileys and coffee on the flight, I was finally resting well after 14+ hours of travel that day.

We finally got in bed last night at 12:40.

We don’t know where our luggage is. but that’ll figure itself out.