Chronicled Hope

I am moving.

2010-01-09T14:57:00.000-08:00

Ok not in the literal sense but I am moving today mark the arrival of TravisVandeNoord.com. Yes, indeed I am an egomaniac that needs my own webpage. For all of you that read please switch over and be part a part of this exciting change. I think it has a lot of potential.

Blessings

Travis

Something Personal

2010-01-06T03:57:00.000-08:00

I know I just posted but that was something I had been thinking about for a long time. Sometimes I feel like I am hiding behind ideas and not being very "present" in my blogs, so I wanted to share a bit I guess.

I am getting things figured out finally. Ever since I went into remission in April I have felt like I have been floating by. It wasn't that I was worried that I would get sick again or that I was needing time to emotionally recover. I just wasn't sure of what was next, where I was to go. But in the last couple of months I can see that God is doing some amazing things in my life. He making ways, opening my eyes, but more importantly for the first time since I was sick I feel like my heart is opening too. There is sense of reckless love and joy. It is easy to only lay so much of yourself bare but the truth is I am happy and feel good in my spirit.

I am not sure what is next but what I do know is that with all of my heart I am ready for the adventure. Where ever and with whom ever I am going to be genuinely myself.

Blessings

White Knuckling It

2010-01-06T01:48:00.000-08:00

A little over five years ago I walked timidly into a hospital room, just peeking my head in at first to make sure it was ok to go inside. And as soon as my head got inside the room (which by the way I had way more hair back then) I heard a little 4 year old voice say, "Travis, I'm a big brother!" My nephew was proudly wearing a tshirt that said the exact words that came out of his mouth. He wa

s so excited. "She even has bow in her hair today."

This was big moment in the VandeNoord clan. She was the long awaited girl that everyone had been pleading with God for. As I sat down in the ugly hospital chair, my brother picked up this newborn that was tightly bundled in a blanket and handed her to me. Pretty much love at first sight. (Ladies that doesn't mean there isn't chance of me saying that about one of you someday. Just throwing that out there.) For the next two hours I just held that baby and she cuddled up as close as she could as she slept. Janae Faith became the crown princess of the family without doing anything other than being.

Now fast forward to this past Christmas. The crown princess is now a ball of energy with a wickedly witty sense of humor and streak of independence that even makes me raise my eyebrows and smile. If you blink you will miss her. If want something from her, you are only going to get if she wants you to have it. And if you think she is afraid of anything, think again.

As the littlest one of the family she is still considered a baby. (And there won't be a littler one unless I get on the stick already. My parent made that point clear during the holidays as well.) So Grandpa always want to pick her up, Old Grandma always wants a kiss, and Uncle Jason . . . well, he still doesn't know what to do. But whatever they try to do to get her do what they want, it fails miserably. They are holding on with white knuckles.

So why do we do it? Why can't we let go? Perhaps I am one of the few that wonder this. Somewhere in the long history of living we have decided that holding on to things helps use remember or live on. It makes me think of my parents attic honestly. When you walk up there you see boxes and boxes of stuff. Things they stopped using the last couple of years, old rolls of wrapping paper that never get used, or half their wardrobe from the 1980's. (I know it is, I was alive then.) We all hear the stories of when people die how their house were full of "junk". But it wasn't junk to them. They were holding on to it for some reason.

But what about the other stuff we cling to that is inside of us. The last year and half has been an interesting one for me. Though I have written a lot about it here, there has been far more than I could ever really express, some things I kept private. Some would call it my baggage. But as I have read many people's blogs in the past few weeks I realize they have some baggage as well. And I am not talking about just the bad stuff. We are just a people that can't let go.

The cancer and sickness, the aloneness, the work frustrations, the hurts, the losses, the miscarriages, the break ups, the failures . . . . all these things to process and intellectually we think of how we need to let them go and we try to. But what about the victories, the successes, the good memories of past relationships, how great the way things use to be, or the perfection of how someone seemed to be years ago. Why do we hold on to that? In fact maybe we hold on more tightly to that than the rough stuff. How can we claim to be able to let go of anything when we have trained our hearts to hold on?

What if holding on to the good is just as hurtful as holding on to the bad? What if work success blinds us from seeing opportunities because we have a "good, secure job"? What if we expect someone to be there for us again after many years because that is the way it use to be, but now it's not? What if we miss out on the loving someone fully because we hold on to the "good memories" of a past relationship? Is it possible that holding to any of our past moments, good or bad, prevents us from fully being in the moment right now? How much worry comes from the "good baggage" as well?

During Rob Bell's Drops like Stars tour he eluded to the idea of "So what". So what you had cancer. So what you have a great job that you are "successful"in. So what . . . . But Rob then finally came to the right question, "So what now?" Letting go means letting it all go and looking for the now. Following where God is now. Loving someone now. Making a life better now.

So back to this little girl I love. This Christmas I just sat back and let her be the little girl she is and did not long for the little baby she was. I engaged her personality and we talked. Yes it was about dolls, the prospect of kindergarden, and her favorite color pink but that is what she is about right now. We named her new pillow pet, Leah (the 20th stuffed animal named Leah by the way). I just wanted to be in it with her and let go of my tight grip on the idea of wanting things to never change since that May day in the hospital. And you know what happened? About half way through the opening presents she crawled up on to my lap and cuddled a little and showed me the new Barbie I got her. Letting go brought her a little closer.

What a season!

2010-01-04T04:09:00.000-08:00

We all complain that the holidays are too fast placed. All the running around, all the family gatherings, and the food . Ok, so I am not sure that the food has anything to do with being too fast paced but it is kind of fun to think of all the delicious food .................................. Sorry for the long pause I was thinking about all the Christmas goodness.

Anyway...

For many of us it feels like the holidays are dead spirit and once New Year's is over there is that huge sigh of relief, "Finally, back to normal". It literally feels like they have run a race and are ready to rest. Yet I have a different reaction to the holiday madness. I feel more like I took a light morning jog and instead of being tired I am feeling energized. No stretch required!

It is not the event of the last week and half that have made it amazing but rather the people. So here are my friends that rocked out my life during the holidays.

The VanWeilers and family. I don't get to see Adam very often and when I get a chance to see that wily, artist yuppy . . .well, I don't miss the chance. This man has more creative ideas on the brain than most people I know combined. Every time I talk to him my head goes into overdrive because he get my creative spirit going. Now combine that with getting to talk a little LOST in on the action. Perfect! Adam's wife and family are always so kind to me as well. They never make me feel like I am imposing even when I am. So to Jenna, Tony, Sharon and Maria. . . you are the best.

Greg Shepherd. Do you have those friends that no matter how much time has pasted you can just flow right back into things. Greg and I are like that. After about 10 minutes of catching up we are discussing our thoughts, hope, or frustrations. I am so excited that this dude is going to be a father. He is going to rock at it. I am banking on a daughter for the first baby Shepherd and I know that if it is that she will have her daddy wrapped around her finger but he will also protect her like no other. I look forward to how our friendship will grow in the coming years.

Jerod Garland, Mike and Tracy Redman, Joe Lubach. I sometimes forget how much I love to play board games with the Pella peeps. There were some good laughs and so fun playing Settlers. I had never play this version and they let me cheat a little . . . God bless them. Did I mention that I found a tshirt that says "Yes we Catan" on it. Pretty funny.

Jon Kalvig. What can I say about this guy. My brother from a different mother who loves to be himself. He likes to push a little and poke at you to be active and sometimes that is just what I need. I could not be more proud of what he did with a little opportunity I told him about so many years ago. The guy has moxy and dig that. Our conversations are always awesome and random.

I am loving the reconnect that comes with holidays . . . . so blessed

Is it a New Year already?

2009-12-31T12:02:00.000-08:00

Tonight is the night! The night we celebrate all that was and welcome in the promise of tomorrow. The funny thing about it is that I think few of us really reflect on what this year has been to us and doubt few are really thinking of the hopes that come with a new year. I enjoy watching the way people celebrate on New Year's Eve . . .what can I say I am people watcher. So many take tonight to mean that it their last chance to live out loud and a little crazy before the things apparently start anew tomorrow on January 1. Cause tomorrow brings an idea that we all can be something new and different with changing of the year. A clean slate of sorts. I suppose something magical happens between midnight and the next time the sun rises on 2010 that allows us to let go of the year and the past despite nothing really changing.

Many of us have a New Year's resolution that we swear by and promise to make a change: Lose those extra pounds, get those little projects done around the house, stop smoking, etc. Everyone has something different and start the year with good intentions. But as my good friend Jon points out in his blog, these commitment only are temporary most times.

Still there are so many times that we make these commitments, these promises to ourselves without having a clue why we are making them. And by this time next year comes around we will be making a similiar promise to ourselves. Why do we do this vicious circle: Hope, frustration, denial, giving up, and then moving on and ignoring that we ever made a commitment. Year after year.

Deep inside our head and heart is this ingrained hope that we can be something better than we are. That we can be the best version of ourselves if we only tried. Without a doubt I think that hope is very true and very much a part of who we are intented to be. We are meant to continue to grow and reinvent who we are as we get older. Who says we have to be same person tomorrow that we were today.

But change doesn't happen until the moment that you can look back and know yourself for who you once were. Is it possible we skip the most important thing of all in these resolutions. What does it matter to lose 10 pounds if your marriage is failing? Why give up soda and ignore the fact that you hate your parents? Does it really change your world to remodel the living room when you still haven't dealt with the pain of lossing a loved one?

Why are we making changes on the surface and not where it matters? Let's be honest for a second. The older we get the more that looking back, on the year that was, can get harder. There are more failures, more losses, more regrets, and more times we wished we could have done it differently. It doesn't mean that there are less good moments just more life to make mistakes in. The question is are we committing to change the things that matter.

Jesus never ask anyone to lose weight, never suggested drinking less Mt. Dew, and He never asked a man to replace the bathroom tile to make it a little more modern. This man always asked for things to change in the heart and souls of men. Jesus knew that reinventing ones self is not a matter of appearance but of a wholistic person. And most times it involved people looking back at their pain, mistakes, and recent past to know that is the type of change they really needed in their soul.

So my prayer for the last day of 2009 is that in the year of 2010 that you all are resolved and blessed by God to change deeply and intimately with Him and yourself.

As for me I am not ready to make a resolution. The new year doesn't start for me until pitchers and catcher report to spring training. ;)

Be Blessed

Where's the Magic has Gone.

2009-12-25T10:58:00.000-08:00

Waking up never seems easy except for those few exceptional days in our year. And December 25th use to be one of those days. Yet as I wiped away the sleep from my eyes and took in the first deep breath of Christmas day it felt somewhat ordinary and familiar. And in that early morning, groggy state of being, I looked out the window to see what most people in the midwest hope for on this day. . . newly falling snow. It is that little piece of atmosphere that makes the day set apart from so many others and brings a bit of joyful nostalgia to our hearts. Still what should be . . isn't. The snow seems almost gray and it brings a sense of cold, not the warmth that it should. It is just winter. Is this what it means to grow up; is this the way it is suppose to be? Where has the magic, awe, and wonder gone?

Many of you are probably thinking that is just me being a hum bug but I don't think that is true. I had a goal of writing the 25 days of Christmas but I couldn't do it because some how I missed it. The hope was to reveal the anticipation or unfamiliar reverence of a day that seems lost but I MISSED IT. Something has changed deep in the soul of this day . . . something has changed.

In the last few days I have been a part of several conversation that entail the weather and how it is effecting many Christmas celebrations. Surprisingly there has been a common theme of being unsatisfied. Many feel stuck with their family and are just hoping to get through the day without being annoyed. As I sit here images are flying through my mind of new hopes for this Christmas and the next ones. And they involve my family and I am far from annoyed. I look forward the next Christmas that has a blizzard, to be honest. It will hopefully be a day that I will be awaken by the smell of pine in the air and a soft voice of my future wife saying "Merry Christmas". Perhaps trying to steal a moment together snuggling in our warm bed before the scurry of little feet come running down the hall. Then the sounds of giggles and excitement and little voices pleading to open presents and clammering about the snow falling outside. Then turning the heat up a little in the house and making my wife some coffee for us to sip on as we take in the festivities in the living room. But what I really am excited for is the dream of playing games together, cooking together, and then sit around the table to read the story of our Savior's birth. Taking turns to read the Bible and not being in a hurry. This is what I am now anticipating for my future. And I am sure it seems like a tangent.

All that was just written about is relevant to what I am thinking though. Something has changed in the fundamental way we look at Christmas. My dream seems like a return to olden days and not the conventional. It is not the going from one location to the next, it is not the pleasing everyone until exhaustion, and it is not rushing from moment to moment but rather not rushing a moment. It all seems simple enough but there is still more to it that is lost in translation of this holiday season.

Observation is more compelling that ideas and I have come to a few stunning observations during Advent.

The dollar bill is the new symbol of Christmas in America. People are going out at 12am the day after thanksgiving to purchase things we can't afford, don't need, and most times are not even sure that we want, let alone need. Often times the people that are being shopped for at those early morning sales are ourselves but vailed under the loose notion that is for a spouse or the family. There are a slew of objections to this criticism and I understand that often we upgrade our lives at Christmas time. But what does upgrading have to do with Christmas?

One of my favorite stories during Christmas is the The Gift of the Maji by O. Henry. It about a couple that knows each other so well that they both know what gift would bless each other beyond measure. With that desire to give came a desire to sacrifice. In the end the real gift was the love it took to sacrifice what they treasured most for each other. How does a flat screen have anything to do with that? Expensive has taken over for thoughtful gifts and upgrading has thrown out the blessing of simple pleasures.

Money is ruling a day of remembrance and hope. Network TV not longer show Christmas movies without huge sponsors and Christmas day is normal programming that bring money into each company. When I was a kid all day was Christmas movies. Not to mention the movies that have morals and character are all but gone. I have not scene A Christmas Carol or A Miracle on 34th street at all this year. Money instead of Christmas spirit. . . nice.

Perhaps these thoughts are way in left field. But if you feel that same disappointment with your Christmas then maybe it is time to rethink today. And here are 5 ways to change it.

1. Turn the TV off. Even if your kids just got a PS3, no TV on Christmas. Trust me they can wait.

2. Focus on your own family. For me that includes my parents and brothers since I am single but if I had my own family today would be about us. Say no to the 10 family gatherings in two days. Any time between December 15 - January 1 can be used to gather the extended family. Use Christmas day to be intimate and small and personal.

3. Bring back traditions and/or make some. Christmas is going through the motions for most of use, but traditions force us to slow down, remember, and take stock. You will never regret a tradition because it allows us to engage our family.

4. Limit your spending. This is not financial this is for peace. When you put time into a gift, whether making it or really having purpose to your purchase it changes the idea of gifts and giving. Upgrade your lifestyle after your tax return.

5. Take your time reading through the story of the birth of Christ and let everyone that can take part in the reading. One of my favorite memories of Christmas was when my friends wife was reading from Luke 2 and her love for the scripture cause her to weep in joy, which then made me cry. Fall in love with the Word together.

Be blessed and Merry Christmas

Preparing the way

2009-12-13T23:03:00.000-08:00

It seems easy enough, the road to Bethlehem that is. When we think of the Joe and Mary's little journey from Nazareth we often picture the tired father trudging along in front of the expectant mother on the donkey's back. Slowly they venture through the desert sands and sandstorms with some mystical compass that gets them to Oh Little Town of Bethlehem. I have a nagging feeling deep inside myself that there was indeed a road. Not just an obscure road but a well travelled and well marked one at that. There were few real obstacles in the way other than it took time to travel the near 100 miles.

Perhaps we want a romantic idea of the nativity. One with toil and impossible odds that lead to the moment a baby was born in a stable. Yet I doubt there was the giant sand storms or wild animals stocking the two travelers or even Mary fainting several time before arrival. I bet the actual trip was pretty uneventful and like any other long trip.

Yet I bet the real obstacles lingered inside them every step along the road. The thoughts and fear and hopes and dreams that must have been going through their minds. I would bet they were amazing. Not only did they have normal first time parent stuff but they also had those messages from the angels to think about. And how does one figure out if they are good enough to be the parents of God and not only that, how do they rectify their own sin before He comes into the world. The amount of silence and prayer must have been incredible along the road. How much of their sin and baggage did this duo leave behind with every mile they got closer to their divine destiny?

So here we are in Advent, the time to prepare the way. A lot of pastor's use the analogy of traveling the road to Bethlehem. But what if you did actually prepare your heart of the Savior's birth? I am not talking about getting hyped up for the holidays or mass repentance of the world to be amazingly pure for the 25th of December. What if we took the time to be silent, pray, and ponder our divine destiny with Jesus. The real call of Advent is to consider a world before the Messiah was with us and then to be ready for a world that has Him in a real and tangible way. Let's be real folks. Jesus isn't a baby anymore. That is not the point of all this. So today as we prepare the way, let us be like Mary and Joseph and take the time to wonder what it means to have JESUS in this world. How that now that He is here . . . everything. . . everything . . . EVERYTHING has changed. So if you want to believe in this Advent then prepare for everything to change.

Postponed

2009-12-11T09:31:00.000-08:00

There has been a storm, lots of shoveling, and I lost the power cordto my computer. All this leads to a postponement of the 25 Days of Christmas blog. I will commence as soon as possible.

Day 6 and 7 - Going Backwards

2009-12-07T23:59:00.000-08:00

Sunday Marty, pastor of my new home church, threw out the idea that in order to go forward be first had to go backwards. It is logical to try to gain perspective in order to make conceptual sense of what is before us. In other words, it would make no sense to explain what an oak leaf is when a man has never seen a tree and then telling him to go out into the world and find one.

This was also true for the Jews and Magi. For many years they looked backwards, reading and studying many prophecies and writings that explained what signs to look for that would herald in the Messiah. . . the King of Jews. For the Jews there where hundreds of prophecies of the Messiah. His lineage, his humble birth, . . . . . thousands of angels sing in the sky one night. All signs of the coming Emmanuel. The Magi were not Jews, instead they looked to the skies for the ways stars aligned and the mathematics of the science that would indicate the moments of His coming. Interesting how the sign were of both faith and science.

Looking in the metaphoric rearview mirror to prepare for Christmas has been captivating to be honest. If I felt incline, which I don't at the moment, I could discuss the unbelievable chain of events that occurred in the starry horizons of Earth that lead to the Star of Bethlehem being in the sky. But instead looking backwards got me thinking about what would it look like to think backwards before the days of Jesus' birth.

It is strange thought to be honest. Trying to think through the eyes of hope while looking for the beauty of life without Jesus as a part of the process is staggeringly hard. Jesus colored the world with hope the moment he was born. Yet looking backwards to why He came into our world to make things right. . . what did Jesus look back on . . . . perhaps it was looking back to what God intended to the world to be before there was sin. That Jesus' rearview mirror thought revolved around the Dream of God (the Kingdom of God) as he grew from a baby into the man. For what he learned from was how to go forward and make things right for us again. That perfection could and will come again. So what does that look like.

Perhaps like this.

I promise very few videos for here on out.

Day 5 -Don Miller's Christmas Blog

2009-12-05T15:51:00.000-08:00

I read this blog the other day and it is hilarious read and enjoy:

Amazon Doesn’t Sell World Peace, so….

by DON on DECEMBER 2, 2009

Yesterday, Kristi Henson, a marketing executive at Thomas Nelson Publishers asked me to put together my Chrsitmas wishlist. Apparently, Amazon is running a feature in which they’ve asked authors to list some items sold on Amazon we might want for Christmas. I think it’s their take on the “celebrity playlists” you see on Itunes. Anyway, I sat for a while and thought about the spirit of Christmas and offered them a list. As a Christian leader, I took the assignment very seriously. I think it’s a lovely list and I thought I’d share it with you:

1. Some art for the neighborhood.

I live in a quaint neighborhood just south of Portland. It’s a sleepy district known for its antique shops, restaurants and coffee shops. Everybody in my neighborhood walks, because we have two of the cities best parks, several grocery stores and boutique shops that bring pedestrians in from the city and suburbs. And there are untold numbers of sculptures, tastefully displayed around the parks and even in front of some of the retail establishments. I thought perhaps I could contribute to the aesthetic with one of these. I live in a condo so I’d probably have to put it on the roof. But if I anchor it down, I think it would be fine.

2. A little help with the ladies.

Nearly every day Lucy and I walk down to the river. I like to talk to the girls there who also walk their dogs. There’s this one girl, real cute, whose dog pulls her around the park while she rides on a skateboard. Seriously, it’s such a cute thing to see. Anyway, I can’t skate because I have no balance. And even if I showed up on a skateboard she’d be on to me, thinking I was just copying her to strike up conversation. But she’d certainly talk to me if I were walking Lucy wearing a pair of these.

3. Art Projects Lucy and I can do together

My friend and pastor, Rick McKinley was instrumental in starting a program calledAdvent Conspiracy.Essentially a few years ago he stood in front of our church and said we had seriously lost the meaning of Christmas, that the whole thing had become a commercial nightmare. He introduced us, then, to a program he and some other pastors started in which entire churches would agree to not go into debt over Christmas, and instead, take more time and intention in creating gifts for the people they love. The church then printed a catalog of tasteful crafts entire families could make together, and even hosted workshops and classes. We all agreed the money we’d save would provide clean water for people hurting around the world. The program worked, and now hundreds of churches are involved. It’s remarkable. Still, it’s just me and Lucy around here, and I’ve never known what exactly Lucy and I could do together. But now I know. We can make my mom a sweater! Merry Christmas indeed.

• Optional accessory: here.

4. A little more help with the ladies.

If you’re like me, you like to cuddle. But what do you do when you’re cuddling on the couch and the credits on the movie are rolling up the screen and your lady friend is sound asleep under your arm. She half opens her eyes and looks at you with that cute gaze you’re crazy about and says how easy it would be just to stay the night. You think about picking her up, taking her into your room and tucking her in, but you also know that is only going to lead to trouble. You’re just going to crawl in there with her and spoon till the sun comes up, and then the two of you are going to go to hell. But with this lovely invention, all you have to do is explain there’s only room for one. She won’t be able to stay the night, and yet she’ll still think you’re awesome. Problem solved.

5. A cooking appliance for when Grammy visits

If you’re grandmother is anything like mine, she loves eating dinner. And if you’re like me, you like making a little something and bringing it over now and then. But don’t you hate it when she keeps asking what it is, or why you can’t cook like that nice, sexy man from meals on wheels? What can you do to make the meal more memorable? You might try this terrific kitchen appliance.

6. Christmas dinner

Everybody knows what meat to cook for Thanksgiving, and Halloween is obvious too. But what do you smoke for Christmas? Done and done.(Make sure to roll over the other sample images. Your mouth will water!)

7. A new suit for the Christmas Eve service.

If you attend Imago Dei here in Portland, you’re already wondering what to wear for the Christmas Eve service. Like most churches, the pressure is on to look your best. Will you wear socks? Will you shower? I ask myself these questions for weeks before the big night, and the last three years I missed the whole thing for standing in my closet trying on every stitch of clothing I own. Jesus got born without me. But not this year. I’m ready. I promise you Jesus wouldn’t have been born in a barn if Joseph would have been wearing something more respectable. You’re going to like the way you look, I guarantee it.

8. Create memories with your house guests.

If you’re like me, you love playing practical jokes on your house guests. Just last year, Gary Haugen of International Justice Mission and I had a knee-slapping laugh when I short-sheeted the bed in the guest room. And Derek and Sandra Webb giggled like children when they woke up in the middle of the night with me standing next to their bed in only my boxers. Oh the fun we’ve all had around here. But what do you do for that really special guest? How do you create a moment? Well, Mark Driscoll is coming to town next week, and I’m ready. Perfect.

In all seriousness, if you want a really great Christmas, and if you want to actually remember what you gave people and if you want them to remember what they got from you, try doing things differently. Lets not buy crap this year at the last minute. Rick Mckinley, Chris Seay and hundreds of other pastors are leading churches through a better story. Check out Advent Conspiracy.Celebrate the birth of Christ by knitting a sweater for your uncle out of dryer lint. He’ll never forget it. And you’ll save a boat load of cash.

Day 4 - Gift Wrapped Conspiracy

2009-12-04T16:29:00.001-08:00

Every parent does the same thing at Christmas, it is the Parental Conspiracy if you ask my humble opinion. I am not sure if there is a global meeting of the parental minds but without question there is definitely a goal by parents to make their children squirm on Christmas morning.

In a child's mind there is more to love about the first day in November other than two months of school are now over. This is day that a kid's mouth can being to say what they have been thinks for weeks. "That is what I want for Christmas." I was also notorious for going through the JC Penney catalog and taking the handy dandy black sharpie and circling every single things I kind of wanted. So that begs the question of how did my parents know what I really wanted if over half the catalog was circle. And this was back in the day when you would roll up the JC Penney catalog and use it as a log on the fire after you were done with it. Well I was clever and oh so sneaky. I would put a star next to items of preference and then carefully black out the price, mainly because it was kind of the expensive gifts too. Now every once in a while would be a gift so special, so breath taking, so awe inspiring that it would receive the coveted ring of stars. I would leave no doubt and the make sure they knew it was for me . . . a little TVN, my intials, would be next to them. If could make neon signs I would, no joke.

This is where the parental conspiracy comes into play. There are different version of this ploy but they are all similar . . . hidden gifts, boxes inside of boxes, one small gift buried under two feet of packing peanuts, and the good gift is always made to be at the end. The parents know it and their kids know it, so parents draw out opening gifts as long as possible. But why do parents think they are so entertaining during this process? And it never unfold like it does with the Ralphie and the Red Rider BB gun in A Christmas Story.

Even my brothers and I where subjected to this ridiculous situation. For three years the same request was made by my brothers and I. The coveted circle of stars went to the Nintendo. . . . not the Super Nintendo, not the Nintendo 64, and definately not the Wii. I am talking 8 bits, a controller with two button, and when the cartridge didn't work you pulled it out and blew into it to make it work . . . yeah that kind of awesomeness.

So my parents had their own conspiracy in play. They had three gifts, one for each of us, and they where all the same size, shape, and wrapped identically. But the three of us were very intelligent for our ages. . . . ok at least I was. I had figured out the gift conspiracy that my parents had devised, at least I convinced myself I had. I believed that my parents had taken the Nintendo out of the box and had put in the three boxes before us in an effort to be their sneaky selves. I was so proud of my conclusion I even told my parents how smart I was.

So the big moment came. My parents told us we had to open all three gifts at the same time so at this moment I was pretty confident I was going to be proven right. The red wrapping paper flew and we tore in the boxes and then we saw them . . . three heavy, gift wrapped bricks. I was floored and devastated but then I started looking for a note or some cash. Nothing. Seriously?

But then my dad walked out of their bed room with a large box and set it down. This time we didn't wait . . . we just ripped off the paper. If I had the picture I would show it to you but I don't. But the good news is I have a video. It is not my brothers and I but it is pretty much exactly how we reacted.

Click here

Day 3 - Worth a Thousand Words

2009-12-03T13:46:00.000-08:00

The saying goes, "A picture is worth a thousand words."

It is easy to focus on the pretty and joyous ideals that we have built the season on. But as I stated in the beginning that these 25 days would a journey to find a truer meaning of Christmas. As I took in the idea of what Jesus coming to this world of dust really meant, I felt it was important to understand why the Israelites where crying out for a Messiah. The truth of it is their reality was not pretty or filled with lights and gifts and they had not yet been told "I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people," by the heavenly hosts. Instead they were occupied by Rome, desperate for deliverance, dying as slaves, and hopeless disarray.

But in 2009 we can not understand this hopelessness and desperation that the child of the most high GOD felt.

Sometime I don't really listen to the words of songs I sing . . . and that was true with one of my favorite christmas carols. O Come, O Come Emmanuel is not a happy and joyful song that is meant to make us feel good. It a song of longing and crying out. And we need to get back to that to understand why we can have joy because Christ. Just like light needs darkness, we must understand the suffering to know the joy. I made this video because it speaks more truth than I can write. Lets the expectation begin.

I had to post it on youtube here

Please take few minute to watch it.

2 Day - The Pageantry

2009-12-02T14:30:00.000-08:00

Somewhere in the long history of the church someone decided that an amazing way to experience Christmas was to reenact the Nativity in all it's splendor. Unfortunately no adult in their right mind (other than Jake and Val Keegan) would willingly allow themselves to dress in assorted bath robes, put towels on their heads (only to be held on with a rub band) while reciting awesome cardboard like dialog and sing carols. Yet even worst someone said "Hey it would be so much cuter with kids being in it."

Yeah . . . . Brilliant!!!! You would think that after the very first attempt of the infamous Christmas program people would conclude that maybe not such a great idea. Seriously have these people never read The Greatest Christmas Pageant Ever. How would anyone ever want to do another Christmas play again after taking a gander at that book?

But lets be honest, it is pretty adorable to watch a little girl cradling a doll named baby Jesus, it is pretty hilarious to watch three boys trying to sing We Three Kings while their fake beards are falling off or getting into their mouth, and it makes your night to witness Joseph whack one of the shepherds of the field with his staff because the goat herder was a little to flirty with Mary. Apart of me thinks that is really why put children through the experience of the pageant. It's because we know it is going to be train wreck but train wreck that is going to make us smile or laugh.

Someday I will be a parent and force this beautiful adventure upon my children. And I am sure that my son will be the one that either knows none of the word to any of the song but gets hyper excited when he knows the hand actions or the one that sings at the top of his lungs drowning out every other child. Perhaps I will have the daughter that get the roll of the angel Gabriel who will forget her lines when all she has to say is, "D . . Don. . Don't be. . . . Don't be afraaaaaid" Don't worry she got the line after the church lady in the front row whispered it to her. I will be so proud.

I won't lie. I loved being in the Christmas play. . . . I got a huge bag of candy for it.

Anybody have good stories?

Day 1 - Flash 'em if you got 'em

2009-12-01T20:28:00.001-08:00

SANTA! OH MY GOD! SANTA'S COMING! I KNOW HIM! I KNOW HIM!

Every year my dad has a grand tradition. He climbs the ladder, gets up on to the roof, huffs and puffs for a little bit (he is a lot out shape), and then yells into the upstairs window, "Travis come give Santa to me." I am not sure if you really understand but this is a big deal. Up to this point in 2009 I am sure that nearly every member in my family, including my 5 year old niece, has been ask at least a dozen times if Santa would make this appearance on the roof for the last time. By this time next year hopefully my parents will be living in their new house in the country (yet, the new house will be located next door to a cemetery. . . uhhh creepy).

For near 15 years my padre and I have secure the fake wooden chimney, that my mother so wonderfully paint to look like bricks, on to the roof. Which in itself is a nice little addition to the house and has brought a lot of amusement when people comment how they forget about the old brick chimney on the house until Santa is up there (not too observant are they). But after that is the moment people have been clammering for. . . . Santa!!! Up on the roof he goes!

Once the cornerstone (Santa) of the VandeNoord Christmas lights extravaganza is up then it is time for the many, many, many strings of white lights everywhere. Yeah that's right . . .we are classy like that. . . . white lights. After the house, the garage, the trees and the garden are outlined in white lights. . . . . .then we move on to the 4 Christmas trees inside. Ok honestly how did my parents never get onto the Christmas tour of homes. . .really? (Ok maybe it was the orange shag carpet they just got rid of this year.) From now until after the New Year car's will slow down on one of the busiest streets in Pella and be mesmerized like little children .

But thats what I love about Christmas lights. When I lived in Des Moines I would get in my car and just drive around for hours and I went to see Jolly Holiday Lights at least 4 times, all because the way I felt when I would look at them. The world fades away and all there is . . . well, is light. It makes me feel warm and alive, captivated like a 5 year old, reminiscent like an old man, hypnotized by something beautiful, touched mystically in my soul, and deeply desiring to connect with someone else in this love for light. In other words. . . a part of me feels God is nearer somewhere in the midst of these trivial lights. And I especially love the nights that is quietly snows and I can walk around town looking at light as the white flakes shower down.

So what about you? Do you love the lights?

Here are few links to some awesome and interesting christmas displays.

BEST CHRISTMAS LIGHT SHOW

Runner-up here

WINNER here

25 Days

2009-11-30T16:16:00.000-08:00

For almost 1/12 of the year we are building toward one day, a singular celebration. There are traditions, decorating, gatherings, shopping, gift giving, and most a sense of "Good will towards men." It is the one time of year that seems to maintain the ideals of childhood and the magic that hope is built on. Every day for nearly 25 days tingles with just a little bit of anticipation and expectation.

But do we know what that anticipation in our souls is really for? For weeks we are preparing for this one day. I am hoping that you are will to walk with me for 25 days that lead up to the birth of the Savior. Somedays I will discuss what the Bible had to say about the Messiah's coming and other will just be reliving Christmas pasts and the what make us love these days.

But mostly I am hoping that we can reminisce together and talk about what we hope to get out of this holiday season as we look forward to our savior's birthday. Be blessed.

Chasing Dreams

2009-11-28T18:01:00.000-08:00

At some point or another everyone has woken up in the middle of the night and look around the room wondering where they are, confused by what had just occurred. Our eyes try to focus in the darkness even though we just stare at the ceiling while trying to gather a thought. But after a while we roll on our side, pull the covers a little closer and wonder one or two questions, "What did that mean?" or "Why was it about them?"

Dreams have always been a completely mystery to me. It would not be surprising if one asked a hundred people what dreams actually meant or what was there purpose and then got a hundred different responses. Oddly enough even the Bible tackles the idea of dreams and there purpose. There is the story of Joseph and how he found power and direction in dreams. So does this mean that dreams that come from our sleeping minds have a purpose to how we live our lives? Now in Joel (2:28*) it says, "Your old men will dream dreams and your young men will see visions." How do we deal with this idea?

Now depending on your opinion of me I might fall into either category (young or old) but for the sake of arguing I will lean toward the old men because I having dreams these days.

My dreams have been haunted lately by a woman from what feels like a lifetime ago. I have only seen her once since I graduated from high school almost 12 years ago. But without fail, for the last three years, I have dreamt about her at least once every three or four months and every time I wake up confused and desperately wondering why her and what I am suppose to do with it. The dreams vary but most times there is a sense that either she needs me or I need her. She is not a old flame thought I did care for her a great deal in high school. I know it is far from romantic hopes. I don't feel drawn to her that way and I am pretty sure she is married (and I want her to be blessed in that).

Then today another strange moment happened. As I looked through a box of things I packed up a few months ago I found a picture of her from senior year. All of my pictures from high school are packed away and have never been near these items, still there her pictures was. What is going on here?? All this even kind of makes me feel uneasy.

I know that her and I had a different kind of relationship. We were not super close but I would have been there in a moment if she needed me and I think the same was true for her. But she was always overshadowed in my life by another girl in high school and now looking back that is regretful because we could have been great friends. Thinking about it at this moment truly leads me to a sense of loss and a touch of sadness. Perhaps these are all foolish thoughts because I want these dreams to have purpose.

Now it is easy to say that dreams have purpose, that dreams can and will show us the will of God, or that they illuminate something inside our heart and mind that needs to be addressed. Yet, how do we get from point A, the dream, and get to points B, understanding the visions of our soul and/or how to act on those with people? And more so how do find the meaning without sounding crazy? Are we supposed to act on the ramblings of our sleeping minds or are we to look past them? But what if we deprive ourselves somethings amazing by never finding the meaning? Is there divine purpose in our dreams, and if there is how do we pursuit it?

Blessings

Showing up

2009-11-25T02:23:00.000-08:00

I always wondered why this guy would always look in to the crowd from the bench of his high school basketball games. You could tell that he was looking for something or most likely someone. At first his eyes would be hopeful but before long that glimmer would be replaced with a glassy look of acceptance and disappointment. And when the game started he would sit at the end of the bench cheering on teams and sharing laugh with others on the bench with him, never letting that lost look his face again . . . . that is until after the game.

There was few time I stayed after to talk with parents and students and when this guy would come out of the locker room he radiated a spirit about him that was dedicated and passionate. Yet as players came out he would quietly walk to sit on first row of the bleachers or stand against the wall as all his friends went to chat with their parent. And when people would stop to chat with him he was more than happy to chat, but he was alone. I thought to myself, Where are the people that love this kid? How could they not be here?

I later came to find out that this good kid was the youngest of three son in his family and that his parents had not missed a single sporting event for either older brother in their entire athletic careers. But for him, these same parents, they came to less than a dozen games in 4 years of high school. Most of the events they attended were parent nights where it would be obvious if they missed. Still he would shrug, with a smile on his face and tears welling in his eyes, when ask where his parents were and often would just say they had to work late. What I later found out was there were greater problems at home. Something had changed between the days that his brothers played sports at Pella High and when he did. . . . and it wasn't this young man's fault. All he knew was that they didn't show up.

Now months later I was watching my favorite movie, October Sky, when something struck me. The movie is about 4 high school boys in the 1950's that want to desperately get away from the life of a cold miner which they seem destine to be. The way they try to achieve this was by becoming scientist and mastering rocketry. The main character Homer wants a to leave this destiny of coal mining so desperately that it cause a rift between him and his father whose whole life has revolved around the mine. As the movie goes on Homer builds amazing rockets that community loves to see launched into the skies above, but not his father. He constantly asks his father to come watch but his father refuses to support him in anyway because he feel that his son does not love or understand his dreams for his son. The father wanted to leave a legacy of his son following in his footsteps but Homer picked a different path. This continued until one day Homer's father comes to find out his son has always seen his dad as his role model and hero.

In that moment the father makes the choice to support his son for the last launching of their rockets. And it become obvious the impact it has on the son . . . .it was life changing because his father, his hero showed up.

It is so easy for us to look around and say that it doesn't matter if we are there or not. It's just a game or a concert; they will have lots of parties who care if I miss one; I am tired from working hard so they will understand if I choose to just pass; or they will invite me to hang out again but right now I need a little me time. Whatever the excuse is I think we are using them more everyday. The more we use this logic or choose ourselves over anyone else. . . . . the easier that choice becomes. Before we know it we have become a person that only is there when it is easy or makes us look better. We lose the joy of standing back and watching people we love accomplish something or show off what all their training was for or just being with them. We ask the question, What do I get out of this?

Is this what we want to be? Is this what we want to train our children to become?

Unknown to me at the time, the high school basketball player I watched had some people quietly showing up for him. Many of the parents of the other players loved on that young man. They decorated his car or when they sent encouraging treats or balloons on game day to their own sons. . . . he would get them too. When the games were over they would come a sit by him on the bleachers for a minute or two and give him a hug and ask him how he was. And to this day he remembers that and has a special place for his friends' parents. If you talked to him about it today I bet he would still get a little emotional about how he felt loved by these people.

Yet, what would have happened if his father had just shown up and done they same? I think it would have had the same impact has when Homer saw his father standing there to see him launch his last rocket . . . . and I bet that Homer will never make an excuse to not show up again because of the love of that moment. I was once told showing up is not enough, but the truth is showing up and just choosing to actually be in the moment is enough to change lives.

Lighten up already.

2009-11-19T08:45:00.000-08:00

A part of new job is to talk with people and listen to their stories. There is something amazing about knowing how people have come to where they are. Yet, there were a few things I didn't expect to learn from this process that would be like a mirror in front of my face. So there have been a few things that make me think about how I communicate and talk with people.

The other day I was sitting with one of our homeless and just flippantly asked him, "So what's your story?" I was genuinely interested in hearing how he had become homeless and where he had been in life

He laughed a little and said what everyone seems to say in that situation, "It's a long story". And of course I said that it was ok cause I have the time. He kept asking the if I wanted the long or short version. Of course I want the Reader's Digest version, short but with some of the important details, who doesn't right? After an hour and a half of trying to intently listen he was finally done telling me his story . . . . of the last year! I really wanted to get to know him but after the first 30 minutes my mind had checked out, mostly because I never had a chance to ask a question or speak a word. I don't know about you but these moments suck. You want to be respectful and at the same time you are looking for an excuse to leave the conversation but at the same time feeling guilty because you asked to hear about it in the first place.

But I came to a stark realization . . . . . I do this to people too. UGH!!! I started thinking about this when reading a blog by my friend Jon entitled Shhh! Do I talk too much? I know it is my nervous response to silence. . . silence can freak me out! But I tend to dominate a conversation and turn it into a lecture at times. I am only listening to what is said in order to respond not to enjoy the sharing in the stories or experiences like I want to. I listen but I don't really actively listen. And when I am on a roll I ramble and can be random. And I don't like any of this. Not to mention I am way less funny . . . lame! (yeah I sang that word)

Now I will also say that this doesn't always happen but often enough. And as I think about it there is so many things to gain from listening first and speaking last.

The last one to speak is usually the best informed to give a wise response.

Asking questions and letting people have there time to speak or tell their story is validating.

Knowing people and remembering the things you are told can lead to relational intimacy.

You avoid foot in mouth disease.

It gives you a moment to really think about what you want and should say.

Really listening allows use to empathize rather than looking for the right answer.

And I think it makes us more likable. Chatty Know-it-alls are not always the most popular even if they are right most of the time.

I am sure we all have friends that we know are serious conversationalist or we are one and I can't be alone on what I am thinking so what do you think? Let's converse!!

Encourage this!

2009-11-18T01:00:00.000-08:00

Monday morning came and . . . I was feeling preetttty good. I had survived the chaos of the weekend and if you asked me I had just knocked another solid talk out of the park the morning before. I was returning to my old element of teaching and I liked it and realized I had missed it and . . . . oh yeah, I was good at it. I was feeling a lot of gratitude towards my good friend Jonny K (PS I am really glad you are still alive!) and wanted to thank him for inviting me to his youth group again.

Perhaps it was at that moment God decided to let reality set in for me. "I was completely lost on what you were talking about yesterday." That was almost the first thing said to me. Oh NOOOO!! I knew I had been avoiding the truth that I took the fact that I was entertaining as success instead embracing the fact that I had never really explained my point on what I meant by "Having the courage to stand". I could say it was because I was pressed for time or that is was my third talk that week or that I really, really have no idea how to explain encouragement. Nope, the reality is that I wasn't sure what to say and I was taking a stab in the dark. It was like I was playing Pictionary and I drew the card that said The Theory of Relativity. WHAT? How do you draw that?

So every time I don't think I can get any dumber. . . . .ok, time to totally do a little redeeming of myself. Here is what I really wanted to say sunday morning so if you are Jon or one of his awesome youth kids then believe me this will make sense.

Encouragement is not a luxury for mankind, it is a necessity. Being able to get through this life is hard enough, but without having people to believe in us when we don't believe in ourselves it is impossible. Yet sometimes when we feel our lowest or in our darkest hours then words are not enough. So then the question becomes how do you draw the Theory of Relativity?

It is impossible to always have the right thing to say. When someone is in their darkest moment we have no idea how that truly feels to them. The depth and layers of emotions is more than we can process and find a verbal blessing for. Now that is not to say that our voices carry no weight what so ever but being in the moment with person holds more truth than any iota of wisdom we can come up with. Still how hard is it to actually stand in those moments, to be involved in another's pain or sorrow or discouragement, and take on part of it as your own?

The beautiful part of being in it with someone is that there is a connection. And inside that experience is that fact that we believe that someone else wants us to have a life worth living, to achieve our dreams, or just make to it through to tomorrow. What is most surprising is that when we are in it with those we love . . . . .the right words seem come when you need them because we know what our heart is saying as we live in part of that pain with them and usually that is what they need to hear. We just want to know we are not alone, that God is with us.

Music and my mind

2009-11-10T07:31:00.000-08:00

There are just songs I love without a real reason, they are just good music, and then there are other songs I can't help but love. Where ever I am, whatever I am doing; I stop and often find myself holding my breathe. And as I finally breathe out with a sigh, it is like little man in my mind clicks on the movie projector of my memory.

As I drove to work this morning one of those songs came streaming into my radio from my ipod. Before I knew what was happening or could stop that little man from pushing the button in my head. . . . I could see her face clear as the day is bright. There were days in my past I tried and struggled to remember every detail of that face but time makes it harder to recall it all. But today in my mind's little movie theatre I could remember everything and she looked as beautiful and strong as the day I met her. As long as the song played I remembered so many things that brought a smile to my face but came with a bit of sadness as well.

The song faded out and so did my thoughts about those days gone by. I sometime wonder if I want to hold to the past. Do I want to remember her beautiful face and who she was . . . . or would I rather know it for who she is now and all the changes that come with it. Or would I rather forget and never listen to that song again.

The truth is I love the song. The memories that come with it are bittersweet with a hint of longing and whole lot of peace. I don't live in the past thinking those where the best days of my life or that I wish for something different. It is just good to remember and see that face clearly again . . . . and to smile at the thought of her one more time.

Oh and the song. . . Holiday in Spain by the Counting Crows

Be Blessed

Some fun thoughts

2009-11-07T15:44:00.001-08:00

Ok I have plenty of things to say now that I am ready to write again but I decided to ease into things by looking at the lighter side of my life for a bit. As most of you know I have taken a job working at a homeless shelter in Ottumwa. To be honest the hardest part for me to accept about going to Ottumwa was I have no idea how I am going meet nice women to date and I am not even so sure there are that many available for me. So here are the Top 10 reason it will hard for me find women in Ottumwa and the Top 10 reason why they should love me.

Top 10 reason it will be hard to from single to married while in Ottumwa:

10. It is No-Shave November, which mean the chance increases everyday that I will be mistaken as homeless rather than just working with them.

9. I have no idea where anything is so if by chance I was to go out it would have to be at the Ottumwa Community Outreach Center or Marty's house because that is the only two place I know.

8. There will be an assumption I am a drunk porn addict because there are 3 bars, 1 strip club, and 1 adult movie theatre within 100 yards of my job. That and I almost walked into the XXX theatre because I thought it was the front door to the Chinese Restaurant.

7. I live in Ottumwa and my last name is VandeNoord. A dutch last name doesn't quite carry the same weight there. And if being good looking and dutch doesn't work to find a woman in Pella. . . . oh boy . . .

6. My wooing skills have been depleted by over using them in Pella to no success. What happened to them? I have gone from smooth to kinda creepy. All I need is a leisure suit and aviator sunglasses to complete the transformation . . . ah crap, I have worn that before!

5. I just turned the big 3-0 and I am still single . . . it is like that magic barrier where people go from saying "you got time" to whispering "do you think he is gay".

4. Indian Hill CC is my best bet to find someone single but dating 18-22 year olds isn't as awesome as it was a decade ago.

3. Using pick up lines like "Hey baby, do you want to go to my homeless shelter after the bar closes," doesn't quite have the same effect.

2.I don't speak spanish so 50% of my options are now gone.

1. I hang out with dudes. All day every day. Please refer back to #5

The 10 reasons they should love me:

10. How do you not love a guy that does charity work for a living. . . SERIOUSLY!

9. I am aerodynamic. I make being bald an art form.

8. I am from Pella and with it comes an assumption that I have money. . . . . . uh and if you're single and reading this . . . . I do have . . . let me check my wallet a second. Yep! I do have money.

7.Everyone I like hanging out with is already married. . . . that means built in chick friends for my lucky lady . . . that's not overwhelming is it?

6. I am cancer survivor. That's hot right? The idea that deadly diseases are inside me laying dormant. . . awesome!! And it proves I am tough.

5. I love the tv show LOST. Which only means I will only compare my lady to fictional characters like Kate and JULIET!! Ok just Juliet. But that is the only woman they ever have to worry about.

4. My exs want nothing to do with me anymore . . . even the ones I didn't even date. So no competition.

3. All girlfriends are pre-approved by my niece. If you have female parts and are around her for 5 minutes she will whisper to me, "Will she pllleeeeaaassee come play with me more. She's a keeper."

2. If you wear glasses, sweat pants, and don't mind having a cold beer once in while then you are in the running. . . that should qualify 90% of the women in Ottumwa.

1. My family and friends have completely lowered their standards for the women I date and will possible marry. They just want me to get married already . . . . . no pressure!!

Dearest....

2009-10-29T19:38:00.000-07:00

Dearest friends,

There is a new voice raising in my soul and new story to be told. I am coming back to write . . . .

It is time to have something worth saying again.

This Perfect Circle

2009-06-25T20:53:00.000-07:00

How difficult are these days that are before us? In these days that seem to have promise and yet so much heartache. There is something inside me that believes in the ideal, this hope of perfection. That it is possible to be what I see myself to be and maybe even more than I can imagine but also be able to love so amazingly well that people leave my presence with a firm belief that they are special and care about without there being a shadow of doubt. I believe in this world and that one person's love can change it in some way even if it is for one moment, one day, one lifetime.

But I have a small problem, just one issue that keeps me from actually doing this well let alone perfectly. I can't put myself aside. I am self serving at moments and self destructive at others. I know in my heart what I want to do, how I want to respond to things but then something takes over. . . . my need for doing it right without fail . . . . the idea that I need to be life changing . . . . this shadow in my soul that says if it is not flawless that I need to fix it or try harder or figure it out. This lie that say if they don't overtly show care for me then I am not doing something right. My greatest enemy becomes myself and my idea that I have the power to love people consummately by some unknown influence and I can make people love me by . . . . being perfect. And somewhere in this strive for perfection to be a master of compassion and kindness, I somehow lose what makes me lovable and kind and compassionate. I become an obsession of wanting what is right and good by my standards and all else flies out the window. And the moment I believe I have the circle perfected is the moment that I find the break in the halo. Yet as often as I see the mistake in my thinking and actions, still I find a way to make the mistake of becoming something, someone I am not.

For the first 6 years of my life I was lived on the farm just outside of Pella. For many of you that know me I am sure you could never imagine me as a farm kid but I was . . . at first. On our farm was a pasture just beyond the yard by our house and this pasture led to a farm pond. In the summer the grass would grow around the pond and as the summer got longer so did the grass until it was hard to even see the water from the house. Now I loved to go fishing in the pond and dangle my feet in the water but the later in the summer it got the less likely my parent would let me go to the pond. So my brothers would go and I would stay home and play with my dog Whitey, and yes he was white.

Since I was a small child I have had dream that comes and goes still do this day about that pond. Some nights when I fall asleep I find myself back in the old bedroom in the farm house and I wake up in the middle of a cool and restless summer night. I walk outside I see my dog gleaming white in the field just beyond the fence and he is looking back to me with his big eyes. And i can see him just like it was day light. The grass feels dewy and cool on my feet as I look out in field where my doggy takes a few steps further into the field and then turns to look at me in way to beckon me to come with him . . . . he is going to the pond. I can't help but follow. As I get closer to the fence I look back to house to make sure that my parents don't see me because I am not suppose to go through the tall grass. It is as I look back at the house I notice all the stars in the sky. They felt closer tonight, brighter in the sky than any night before. And the further out into the field that follow Whitey the brighter they get. The air feel warm but the breeze is cool on my face and as I walk I let the tall green grass slide between my fingers and under my palms. And the sent of dew on grass . . . .it still makes me smile and take a deep breath. Then all of the sudden Whitey runs into the tallest grass by the pond. I can hear him dashing in the grass that now towers over my head. I can't see him anymore and I begin to run after him, calling out for him. I follow him through this perfect circle of grass that rings around the pond. To me this might be as close as heaven gets. . . .matchless in its refinement. I have found what I am looking for in this life.

I run through the grass in pure joy and I am overcome by a feeling that can only compare to being in love . . . . and then in an instant it all changes. The grass becomes thicker and harder to see and I can't hear my dog anymore. Finally as the grass clears . . . it happens. I fall into the pool of still water, unable to swim or breath. . . . . perfection is now my perdition.

And then I wake up.

I am back in the real world breathing fast, heart racing, unsure of where I am.

Then life brings the obscure dream into a clear reality. I now live in a moment that tests all that I believe against all that I have dreamt and been. I have found something that give me confidence in the fact that perfect circle does exist despite all the broken one of the past. There is a wall that keeps me from the living in this hopeful circlet I have alway had blind faith in . . . and it is the memories of the past broken ideas of what I tried to make it be. They were not infinate like they were supposed to be. I failed to be or do what was needed to make them happen. I was unable to be myself as I tried to be what I thought all those people wanted me to be and lost much to trying to change into someone I am not; the perfect teacher, the ideal theologian, the best of friends, the strongest of survivors or a lover that catches his beloved when she jumps.

But I have hope in the idea of the circle, one with no beginning and no end. In my heart I know that it is not a founded on the idea of perfection of making a circle but rather in the grace that I can go around the ring as long as it takes, in grace, to learn how to be the things I believe in. perhaps it is not the fact of how great I can be but rather having confidence in how caring and good I am. What if the pressure was not on being anything other than compassionate and real and not right. Cause being right mean someone else has to be wrong but with compassion we walk as one heart. It is when we try to jump out of ourselves and this walk of faith and grace and who we are that we break through the grass circlet into the water and start to drown. But if I would only slow down and look at those stars more or breath in the smell of the dew, just ok in the being there . . . then the circle is perfect and there is not need to make it better . . . and I am home and loved well and can love so much better. If I can lose myself in the circle I will walk it forever

And every good stories come to an end.....

2009-04-25T14:35:00.000-07:00

I open the book for the last time, only one chapter remains before there is nothing more to be read. All the hours of taking in the pages have led to this. It is the chapter that is going to tie all my questions and anticipations together and all the roads are going to come to a head and there will be an apex and the resolution to a story that has captured my mind. And for a moment I am worried that the end will not be enough to satisfy me or it won't quench the expectation of wanting greatness to a my hopeful imagination.

As the pages turn and the final picture is painted before my eyes, there is subtle sense of a bittersweet moment coming together as the last paragraph is read. In one story your eyes are open to a new world or idea and within a moment that world is closed to you, yet you continue to filter thoughts through this newly colored lenses.

It is like the moment you realize that the only way to truly love the person of your dreams is stop holding on to your dreams for them and let them have their own dreams without being crushed by letting go of it all. Everything changes because you can never go back to that passionate desire that was beautiful and new but you are better for seeing the world in fresh ways because of dreaming for and with someone out of genuine hope. It is the awaited chapter of our hearts that when is it ends the story is over so bittersweetly. Yet despite the disappointment of letting it go, there is quiet part of the soul that smiles because it wants nothing more than for their story to go on and for their dream to be found. The person we love is a story we want so many to be able to be in and have their lives changed by.

For the longest time I have been sitting in front of my computer trying to find the words that could possibly describe what I have experienced in the last two months. Yet I sit here numb, emotionless, and empty. Perhaps these are the things should be writing about. The fact that in this moment of profound victory . . . I am nothing.

For months and months I was in the midst of pain and tribulation with romantic ideas of joyous victory, a renewal of my humanity, and embracing of a God's grace on this imperfect life. The story played out in my mind day after day of the all the beautiful things that would happen once my ears received those words I fought hard and long to have whispered into existence. The word that could make me believe that the battle was worth the fight. Remission! The word that tote a new genuine joy . . .at least I believed it would.

So why does it take months for me to find these thoughts, these understandings of what I am really being and dealing with. How is that this good story is coming to an end ?

I often envisioned a party that would celebrate the triumph of life over death, a deluge of my gratitude toward those that supported me, and a bona fide joy for coming closer to God and this chapter of being in the thick of life itself. I prayed to never let go of the love I have for the children I saw suffer everyday or to never again put myself before anything or anyone. I want to be more than I was before I went through all this. The end of the story was suppose to be happy and victorious and there was suppose to be a completion. Yet none of these things have happened. What I didn't plan for was that life, everyday life, would go on.

It is easy to want to be something, to be somebody. . . . but it is hard to change. It is hard to be an optimist when you lived in and with so many people in the face of hopeless odds. I take more energy to go on everyday when you watch a little child lose to cancer when you are winning your own fight. It is near impossible to not have extinguished hope when it is hanging on to stay aflame. It is hard to have confidence in love when it appears to fail. Too love with everything that you are and in the end realize there is diddly-squat that you can do to safeguard anyone for this world. That your love for another can not save you either! Or worst of all is when you realize your interpretation of love is incomplete, unfulfillable, idealistic but rarely acheivable. That the idea is perfect but the fact that we are utterly flawed allows us to completely want to hoard love and rarely give it freely. That heartbreak always outweighs the success. It in this deflating notions that stop everything about me cold. As the doctors had nicknamed me . . . I have become a machine.

These last few months since Madison died I have become cold and hard, angry and dejected, stubborn and logical and I have lost heart and compassion, depth and laughter, hope and joy. Is there little wonder why the story is not ending like a story like mine should? And I know that people can sense this. I am an emptier version of myself. So little of what I once was, the promise and destiny that so many thought was there, is getting lost in the this problem of pain.

Was the battle worth it. Why am I here and why is that beautiful little girl that was full of love and joy not? Here I sit and I have so many people that don't feel loved by me, that I have injured there hearts, and heart and hope to stop being the machine. This feeling creeps in the dark of night like I am not honoring her life because she would want me to be . . . . the me she knew and saw every week. Days like these are hard to understand. The whys and why nots. After 29 years I am starting to believe I am hopeless at understand love and kindness the way it is meant to be.

It is always darkest before the dawn. . . . .

I once wrote that things were about to change. This story has to change, it has no other direction it can go . . .. because if it doesn't the story will never be a good and it will just end. I am letting go off this idea of what I want life to be so that His dreams for me can come true. . . . It is hard to let your dreams go when your future was wrapped up in them. . . .

The Wall

2009-02-22T19:06:00.000-08:00

It stands nearly four stories high and the evidence of years of assault can be seen in the green tin. The facade has been assailed by "bombs" and "bullets" while the sounds of anger or passion flow through the air. Yet after decades of attack this wall still stands. To some it is the adversary and to other it is an inviting friend, still to everyone it is imposing and intimidating. And now to this day, a wall has become an identity or the defining part of a place that is so much more than this amazing bulwark. So now when people say Fenway Park the first thing that come to mind . .. . . the Green Monster.

I am not one for finding the prototypical analogy, except for the times I turn around and run into it face first and get knock flat on the floor. You see for me the wall is, well . . . . . . "It's complicated". It is in those words that my entire existence seems to have been caught up in. Who am I . . . "It's complicated"; how do I find the right person to love for the rest of my life . . . . . "It's complicated"; what is really broken inside of me . . . . . "It's complicated"; why am I so hurt and angry . . . . ."It's complicated";who is this God, this Jesus and what does that have to do with me. . . . .(sigh) "It's complicated". How does someone go from feeling they are simple to being complicated in mere moments? To be honest it is not that simple. This wall of who I have become was constructed brick by brick by brick. With each brick cemented in who I am or was or should be has been made secondary to the wall that dominates the landscape.

When you walk into Fenway Park, it does not matter from what entrance you enter, the first thing you look for is left field and Green Monster. Everything else seems minor compared to it. For a moment you forget the history of the place, the excitement of the game, or even how green the grass is. All you see is the big freakin wall.

Yet walls have a very specific purpose. Walls are made to either keep something out or to hold something within. For instance my house walls are to keep myself safely tucked away for the elements, to keep the heat in (at this point), and to keep my possessions sheltered. On the other hand a sea wall is to keep the ocean out and protect people for the raging seas. Now if we look closer we see a common thread in any walls, they are to protect.

But my walls are complicated. I know that I have built these walls to protect my heart and soul, yet I despise them to the core of my being. I have neatly cocoon myself behind these thick stallworths and found myself locked in a prison. C.S. Lewis once wrote that there are only two places we are safe from the pain that accompanies love in the wake of love lost. One is Heaven where love is complete and the other is Hell where love is absent. Yet if we build these towers of protection in order to never be hurt or at least deflect most of it away, then we run into the inevitable possibility we may never see the hopes, dreams, and love of life come into our world. And even worse this world may never see us, they will only see the wall. So when some says "remember Travis", the only thing they will remember is the wall of how complicated I was, how hard it was to get pass them to see . . . me.

I once heard a little girl say "Love is not complicated, we just make it that way." That makes me think of all the people I could have loved and chose not to because it was complicated. Or how the walls I have taylored to control my world have pushed people away because it is complicated. So what happens when you think love is complicated. Sometimes it makes you look for the BBD (bigger better deal), or the love you receive is never enough, and in some instances, even when you know you love someone . . . you think that person isn't what love is. Or worst of all . . . . you give up.

Perhaps this day a little angel will spray paint "GO FORWARD" on my walls. Because she knows the only way to go forward is to escape my comfortable prison in which I am secure in ignorance and to go be in the wild where love roams free. I want climb out, break through, or tear down these walls and go forward. . . . and it is going to be hard to let so much go. But in the end I don't live there anymore.

Let love in!

Go Forward

2009-02-15T12:24:00.000-08:00

I couldn't face going into the church any further than the second to last row. So I sat down in the old worn pew just inside the doors to the sanctuary. Probably thousands of people sat in this same place as I was now over the hundred or so years since the "ancient" church was built. And in those decades of existence, thousands had come to this place for the very same reason I had come . . . . to say good bye. The atmosphere seems to carry the wait of all the sorrow from the past. And on this day maybe even the angels that dwelled around this building had tears falling despite the smiles in their hearts because they knew where she was now.

I can't sit here and say that I had profound moments of grace or understanding of life/ death and God. My eyes just locked on to the necklace that she had handed me three months earlier. It was a simple chain with a stainless steel dogtag on it. On the front was a Superman logo in red and yellow. It was because of this logo that she picked out for me. She called me Superman because no matter how bad I felt or how bad she felt from treatment I could always make her feel better and laugh and smile just be coming to visit. (Maybe there is lesson there we can all learn about just showing up for people.) I am sure she believed that I was invincible and maybe I am . . . to anything but heartbreak and life. Yet as I stared at the pendant the only thing I could stare at were the two words below the logo. "GO FORWARD"

It is a simple idea and reasonable sentiment . . . going forward that is. There is not a single person in this world that would be agreeable to the concept of staying still, living in a rut, or going backwards in life. Who really says that they never want anything to change and really expect it to stay the same. Change is bound to come whether we want it or not much like the setting of the sun. Yet I find myself there in that place of not going forward, hoping to one day awake to a past that never happened. I know that day will never come so why do I stay in this place.

I had the intentions of writing something profound but as I have typed out these words I am realizing that I have not idea of what to think. I am not sure what to think of going forward. What I have figured out is that I have a lot of questions that are coming to my mind. When I first got diagnosed I swore that I would be more open and inviting to people to be there for me and I would be willing to let people love me . . . so why is it I have walk through this primarily alone and few people seem to care? Perhaps I am not as good and kind as I thought I was. . . perhaps I am too arrogant and proud to let myself be sick and cared for. And why do I live by all these rules on how to be "a good person" when they stop me from loving people and letting myself be loved. I mean seriously, love is not that complicated yet I seem to completely screw it up. So how do I go forward and start being loving and lovable. Maybe I need to stop trying to be perfect and righteous and start really loving people. I am tired from being angry and frustrated. I want to discover something new by loving first and following rules second . . . now if I only knew how.

"Frustrated and alone. You found me. You found me" - The Fray

Perhaps it is time to admit I need to be found by someone.

I am a slacker

2009-02-05T13:36:00.001-08:00

Sorry everyone. I feel like I have totally dropped the ball on keeping everyone updated on everything that is going on. Some times I let myself get a little too busy and forget the simple thing like just blogging about me and the life I am in.

This will be a quick update with a more lengthy blog later this weekend.

I have been struggling lately with a lot of things emotionally, spiritually and physically. In one of my earlier blogs I wrote about a little girl that I was spending time with at the hospital. Despite the treatments, the prayers, and the hope of her one day being a mommy like he dreamed to be, she lost her battle with cancer. This was and is a major blow to my hope and the stallworth faith that I have been leaning on. After recent going to services for her memorial I have found myself sad and somewhat depressed about life and the things I need to do to move forward. I am heartbroken over the loss of her. I was her Superman, as she would say, and I could do nothing to help her. If this is true, there are times I wonder if anyone can save me either.

Though there are improvements with every doctors visit but I am finding that the pain is becoming more and I am not bouncing back from the fatigue as quickly. That is leading to lethargy that I hate. I try so hard to cover up the amount of pain and frustration I have inside of me right now. I feel like the ocean right now. At times the most peaceful place you could possibly be and at others I am like in the midst of a storm and power of it make the ocean's waves a scary place to be near. My joy is hard to find despite the fact I try to smile as often as possible. All of it is beginning to wear me down.

But the light is coming and the pain will end. It is just a matter of time. I will write more soon.

An Epitaph for the Living

2009-01-14T17:43:00.000-08:00

There will come a day when I will not longer be able to speak or write about my thoughts, my hopes, or reveal the reality of the person I crave and desire to be. A moment will come when my voice will become silent in air of this world. And in the wake of that stillness other people's voices will murmur and whisper the ideas of how they took in the spirit of my heart. On each of their hearts, who I am will write an epitaph on their souls.

Often when we hear the word 'epitaph' the idea stirs up a picture of headstones with often quirky quotes, scripture, or "Beloved husband and father". It is the final thoughts on a life that has come to completion and a wealth of joy and heartbreaks condensed down to one thoughtfully uttered sentiment of the our existence. For many people the idea of life becomes almost absurd by the end and they inscribe something trite and witty. Winston Churchill wrote, "I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter."

But if you really thought about what it was we wanted the world to know once we left this place; the one hope we want to be imprinted on the hearts of those we love; the one thing that might live on long past we are gone; our one blessing that could be eternal. . . I would pray that we would think about of just a little while longer and make it our entire being so that it could be real in the souls of all we cherish.

Perhaps we, as existing spirits, that have some much life before us rarely look at what the final words of our life will be. But what if we did take the time to think about what is was that we wanted people to know about the real us so when the Father invites us homes there is little doubt about the things that will be written deeply on the hearts of others. We will never be perfect, we will hurt those we love at times without knowing it and sometime we will, there will be moments that we loss ourselves in the pain of the world. . . but what we leave behind, our legacy, will be written by what we allow ourselves to be. It is our epitaph for the living. Still what is even more amazing is that it is possible to to be a LIVING epitaph.

So as the snow falls and wind hollows outside my window . . . as I think about a friend that is 5 hours away. . . and another one that is minutes from where I am now . . . and how I want all the people that will miss me one day to remember my life and hope . . . I will write a few things that really matter to me. It is my epitaph that lives.

Love is all that really matters. Never be afraid to take chance on that which makes your heart breathe and sigh. Some moments will be so quick and sudden that they will blindside us and surprise us to core. These glimpse of transcendental joy could make us doubt all we have ever know. Yet still, real love is nothing we will ever look back on with regret or remorse. These sanguine moments we hold dear are not controlling, have no conditions, and never dares to degrade the greatest reality we can be a part of. Love lifts a person to meet their hopes and dreams, whether they are big or small, and the joy that comes with it frees us from the selfishness that seem to shackle our soul. We must be willing to let love in. There are times we believe that love can not be as good as it seems but the reality is you rarely meet your soul mates so when you do hold on them. It might not be convenent or simple but you get a crack at someone that touches your soul a few times in this life, don't be afraid to risk it. This is one thing that I have learned in the last year more than ever before in my life.

Often we determine the possible based on the circumstances of our lives during that moment of time and how other's might accept the chances we take. Such ideas of the lost possibilities have made us stop believing that anything is imaginable and that we are contained in our past decisions and perceived mistakes. Often we look past people that make us believe anything is attainable because we are afraid. It is in those moments we let people that could love us well for our entire lives go by. Not because they are unrecognizable, rather so, they are too real and we believe it is only disappointment that awaits us and them. The truth is these are the people that will reach down to help when we fall and stay with us through the shit to get to the palace. Never make an excuse to not be around these beloveds, for they will only want to bring the best out of you.

If you lose the things you love never submit and give up on them. When you find them again perhaps it will be different and there will be things you miss but risking it to be present in someone's life, that mean the world to you, is coming a bit closer to heaven. Never be scared to be open to anything that is possible while being grateful of the past.

Love, Love, and Love some more.

Never let go of your dreams unless they change because you change. The real people in our lives that love us will never ask for us to let go of what we are passionate about. IF you are in a place that asks you to leave who you are behind to be someone you are not then get away from that place and those people. . . don't walk . . run! Find someone that see you for who you could be if given hope, encouragement, and a smile. They can save you from the world that tells you to give up all personal hopes to be "successful". It isn't a life worth living.

But mostly it is this. Fight and pray to live in the midst of real Love because when you are there you love everyone so much better. You will know when you are there because it is effortless, it will pour out and so does joy . . . and if you don't know what I mean then come spend a little time with me. hahaha. Or I guess find somewhere or someone that makes it worthwhile.

I got a good idea where to start living . . . where He died in love.

Round 2

2009-01-04T16:20:00.001-08:00

So starting on Tuesday I will start my second cycle of radiation. I was supposed to be done with everything by now but life has a tendency to come out and change the rules on you. I am not sure how I feel about everything. It seems almost normal to me to be going back, like it is part of my normal flow. But I want it to be over soon. I want to just be able to live and no longer just get by. It is round two and it is go time.

Everything Arbitrary

2008-12-17T08:56:00.000-08:00

What would happen if we just stopped doing the things that hurt each other? What if we actually did what we said? What if everything wasn't so arbitrary? This is the thought that rattles around in my head today.

I was reading today and realized that it is lame to always blame the fact that we fall short on things like the church or technology, or we just sucks as people. The reality of it all is that there is something I think that we all feel, that there is something incomplete about our view and philosophies of life. For christians we are locked down in this idea that God is about church, obligation, and not screwing the pooch to badly so that we might make it into those pearl gates some day. Despite the fact that the more we read our Bibles the more we should realize that heaven is not the end goal for us because it is only self preservation of another life. But that is what we believe is the truth. But how can we look past "Your Kingdom COME" ? Bring heaven to earth . . .such a foreign concept that we choose to ignore it and pretend that it was accidentally written in there.

Everyday I hear these words, "I am praying for you," "I will be praying for you," or "If there is anything I can do let me know." Sorry if this offends you because you have said these things and possibly even meant them, but they are some of the most arbitrary statement that a person could say. It is not logical or practical in any way. Maybe it is because we have no way to know how it is to be present with someone or get into the mix without feeling caught in the drama. So I guess we say what first pops into our little heads. There is this need to do the right thing, to at least be some what active in pursue what is supposed to be right at least. I mean who say no to the a person that says I will pray for you. Why not just say I will send out happy thoughts or good karma for you. . . it is about the same. Because for most of us it goes something more like out of sight, out of mind. We have good intentions. We want to do what we say we believe in but when we get home there are a hundred things to do, other people to occupy our thoughts and time. Then about three days later we hear about, think about, see the person that we promised to pray for and we are hit with guilt. Oops, I forgot to pray. Or if we are lucky we go about two or three days before they slip our minds and from the "prayer list". And in the end we look at it all, no matter which side of the fence you are on, and we feel incomplete. Something is not what it should be.

There are a couple people I believe are truly know are loving me with prayer. One is still my best friend, the only person I have ever really trusted, despite the fact we are distant and it is hard for them to be in this with me and the other because they love to pray more than anyone I know. So for them it wasn't as arbitrary because their words and actions come together in an effort to bring a piece of heaven to my world. I am not talking about the heaven where everything is perfect and painless. Instead they are actively pursuing the idea of bring GOD closer to me because it is so hard for me to feel Him, see Him, even believe in Him. God's full presence resides in Heaven and to bring Kingdom come for me would be people who stand in the gap, put themselves aside for mere moments and plead for a God to come nearer to one who is fallen.

What would happen if we stopped, looked into the eyes of the fallen or the lost, and choose to stand in the gap with them. The gap of their between them and God, the gap in their needs, the gap of their HEARTS. I mean damn it people . . . . what if our lives and faith could feel like it is complete. What if when we said all the "right things" that we would be passionate and obsessed to follow through because it bring a spirit of real life to not only them but us as well.

So this is what I will say to all this. I am done saying, "I will pray for you". Instead I am going to stop and know that God has power and love that is scary, almost an obsession, and choose to want to bring Him closer and stand in the gap with someone. I am going to pray WITH people at John Stoddard when I am there. I am going to "embarrass" myself by praying publicly for people because they need it and they know they are not in it alone. Or maybe make the time for people to be where they are and stop requiring people to be where I am in order to care for them. Yes, it will be a little uncomfortable and I might not be a fan of everything but who am I to let religious pride be a reason to not care for some. If you are not feeling convicted and are comfortable with that little feeling of incompleteness to your life and faith then this is just non-sense to you. But start thinking about what saying when you say I will pray . . . you are telling someone you are going into God's presence for them. . . and if you take that lightly and think it is no big deal then . . . huh? This isn't about being fake but instead about forgetting who God is and what we could have in our lives.

Angel's Songs

2008-12-03T17:33:00.000-08:00

Often times I come to write about the philosophical ideas of life and how they apply to me and the things that I am going through. It is easier to make a statement of philosophy that everyone can relate to rather than to be personal and relate a story that is personally about a moment or experience that no one can understand. During thanksgiving I got a chance to really talk with my brother and he was hurt and frustrated by the fact that I am what he calls closed and I am just not talking about what is going on with me. I feel like I have become very unapproachable and I am hard to read as genuine. Many people have been asking me how I am doing and it is hard not to lie about it. I feel like I owe it to people to make them feel like everything is going to be ok but honestly I don't know if it going to. At times I think that if I say "Everything is going well" or" I feel pretty good," then I will believe it too and I trick myself into a sense of security. The reality is life feels out of control.

This has not been the best few weeks of my life. The pain has increased a lot in the last two weeks. I have a hard time sleeping at night without waking up in some sort of pain four or five times. I think it is actually bad enough that I am crying in my sleep. I wake up and my eyes are watery, the skin is tight, and few times there have been tears running down my face. I am not sure if it is because I am have dreams or if the pain is causing it. The doctor has limited the amount of painkillers I can have and I might need back surgery after it is all said and done. I originally had two more weeks of radiation and would have been done by Christmas but I was told last week that I would have to do at least another month because the cancer is not shrinking or going away. Obviously the pain was letting me know it was not getting better. There is now talk of possible chemotherapy if this does not work. I hate being sick. It is such a lonely feeling. No matter how many people try, it feels like they forget about you and you are again trying to make it through this alone. For the first time in my life I feel like I need people . . . that I can't live as a one man show anymore. I want the people I care about to be with me, but a life time of telling people I don't need them has caught up to me. I need to change drastically and soon . . . I have lost far too much already in this life. I want to change is better way to look at it.

I am never sure what my destiny is suppose to be or how God decides what is going to happen to who, when, where , and why. Or what is the right way to deal with things like disappointment or heartbreak or looking at our own morality. But I do know one thing, there are things in this world that need not to be explained because they are just that unexplainable.

There is this thing that has happened to me in the last few months that I can't explain and it is always centered around singing. A few months ago I was laying down and talking with someone late at night when we both heard a woman singing. I went around the house and looked to see if a radio was on or if the next door neighbors had their stereos on high but found nothing. I went back and we talked for bit longer and we heard it again. I don't believe in ghosts (though I love to watch Ghosthunters) so I just shrugged in off.

For the last two months I have found myself woken up often by the sounds of singing. Most times it is when I have had a horrible day and feel like it is going to be hard to wake up the next morning and feel like fighting through another day. At first I thought that it was like those times that you have a dream and you keep thinking you are dreaming after you wake up. Or when you wake up with a song in your head and you just keep singing along in your brain. I would sit there and strain to listen. There would be a sweet voice of a woman that carried over the air but never loud enough to make out the words. I alway feel a little unnerved at first but then a feeling of warmth comes over me like I just drank some hot chocolate. I feel calm despite this unexplainable event.

It didn't take long for me to realize that the songs I was hearing were not songs I knew at all and they always caused me to remember times and people I loved. Like a musical reminder of why life is good. It reminds me of getting sung to as a child. It is always sweet and beautiful, wanting to bring me to better place and to be at peace.

The other night I began to wonder if I was coming ever closer to the end. The songs seem to be so mysterious and bring such a sense of home and love and peace. It would not be surprise if that is the voices that usher me home at the end of my life. I hope it will be the music to the story of my life as I get to watch it in heaven. So I have called it the Angel's Songs because that is what I believe them to be. Maybe it is the next door neighbor's radio but let me have my hope.

Capacity for more

2008-11-15T10:54:00.000-08:00

"Let me not be blind with privilege

Give me eyes to seek the pain

Let the blessing You've poured out on me

Not be spent on me in vain

Let this life be used for change." I Will Go by Starfield

Last Tuesday I sat in the John Stoddard Center and watched people come in out. One thing people might not realize about me is that I am a anthropologist at heart, which is fancy way to say I enjoy people watching. After about twenty minutes of sitting there I saw the elevator doors open and one my favorite new people was being wheeled toward the radiology dept. Her face was beautiful despite it showed signs of fatigue and wear. The purple and pink bandana was loosely tied atop her head in order to hide the evidence that her brown hair was no longer there. Dressed in her Disney princess pajamas she looked just like any other 9 year old girl except for the fact that she had cancer in her brain.

Madison has gone through two rounds of chemo and now was doing around of radiation. As always her mother was right there with her. I have yet to see or visit Madison without Beth being there.

At age 29, Beth had taken a leave from her job to be with her only child as she had been in the hospital for a month. Beth was quick to see me and leaned over to Madison's ear to whisper and point towards my direction. As her little brown little eye connected with me, I gave her a wink.

"Travis!! Are you here to get zapped too? And guess what I get to go home soon!!!! Maybe even for Christmas!!" Her eyes grew larger and brighter with every sentence. Inside I felt so excited for her and at the same time a bit of sadness.

"I am so excited for you. What are going to do when you go home?"

Madison smiled and just said one thing before going through the doors. "I am probably not going to sick anymore and play a lot."

After visiting with Madison and Beth a few time in the last few weeks (because usually our radiation treatments are schedule around the same time), I knew that her being in remission soon was not what was happening. Instead she was having a break between treatments cycles and she would be home for two weeks after Thanksgiving. Beth was trying to get their doctors to try to make it pass Christmas and we are all hoping that might happen still. She has a long road still and my heart breaks for her.

I am tired of standing on the side lines and watching things happen. It is too much anymore. It is too much to be heartbroken for myself, too much to be sad about the things I have lost, too much to let myself let other's broken hearts not stir me. I can't pretend that I don't have a great amount of frustration and pain but it is what I am not doing with all these feeling that is disturbing. I am doing nothing . . . trying to survive is not enough.

Like many people I often think that "giving" is contained in tithing to the church and giving my time in a ministry or something that I am interested in, like a political campaign. I live in a beautiful, wealth community that does so little real charity work. The type that actually feeds the poor or helps the sick. The kind that reaches out to kids and families that could look at such compassion and it could be life changing.

There is a capacity for more in me. . . . for more in the place.

I am convicted by my apathy and the rut of life we can be in. After some talks with a good friend we have decided that it is time to start doing something. My hope is that many of you will partner up with us and even might volunteer to help this happen. So what is it? We are in the works of developing a fundraiser for either the Children's Cancer Foundation or Make a Wish Foundation. Obviously more details will be coming but my prayer is that this kind of charity work will impact our hearts and the their lives.

Sitting by a tree

2008-11-11T19:53:00.000-08:00

Some days the pains seems more than I can bare and the air is too heavy to breathe. When I began this battle again I thought it would be a swift and easy fight, mostly because the doctors said all the radiation was "preventative" measures. But the reality has sunk in that there is really nothing preventative about. Instead it is an active war of attrition that is fighting a very real foe that is not going to go without one last stand. The cancer has not spread but it has gone away either. It is like the moment the world stands still. But what is crushing me the most is it feels like it is stealing everything away from me, slowly. Abilities, dreams, joy, and relationships all feel like they are slipping away because I am shell of my former self. I feel isolated and alone, locked in battle that no one viably wants to witness.

Truly who would wants to watch a man fight for his life and soul. We want to see the victory parade, not the war. Man would rather wait and see the outcome and not partake in the efforts. How many of us want conflict more than we want peace? Or fight for someone that will give us little reward even if there is victory? IF we are to fight along the side of someone we want to be celebrated in the victory parade too, not to be just one that holds another up in a moment of true triumph. This desire in humankind only happens because they refuse to see the battlefield and focus on the celebratory march. We want to all be a part of something so audacious and gratifying to our hearts, never realizing that the victor's courage and bravery are found only in hope, belief, and prayers of the one's fighting with him to surmount the enemy. No matter how great of a warrior a person is, a man that fights alone against great odds will almost never win. We need our allies, our hope, our bravery. Only once in history has man ever defeat such odds and even He could not escape the price of death.

I am hurt and disappointed in the fact I have very few allies in my war. When I first revealed I had cancer I was bless by very kind responses and that gave incredible amounts of strength and courage but since then I have battled alone, except for one or two allies ( The 121 represents). I go to church and watch people pray up worship teams and speakers; hear calls to devote a period of our lives to come together in prayer; and observe so many people "serving the church", yet here I lay. I have friends that are super stud christians, youth pastors, worship leaders and pastors and how many of those have offered to pray for me while I am weaken on this battlefield I find myself on . . . none. And easily I will admit I have not pleaded for any either. I just go forward and pretend to be brave, as the world around me falls to pieces and fades to black, so everyone can continue on with their lives because I refuse to be a cause or hinderance. But I am hurting and trying to make sense of it all . . . am I not worthy of an affinity, to be cared for. Am I so broken and messed up that no one really cares? Am I just not good enough to have anyone care to rally for me in my time of need?

So last night I went to prayer at the church because I hoped maybe anything might happen. I sat in a room of 15 men and sat there until I realized I had nothing left. No words to pray, no thoughts, no idea what I wanted. But there on the stage was a big cross and I felt like it was only place for me to go because the One who died on it was the only person to go to war alone and claim victory. As the room was filled with music for worship and prayer I found my sitting on the floor next to the cross with my forehead leaning against. The wood felt warm and alive as I rested against it. It was in that moment, as a dozen men literally yelled out prayers, that I began to whisper to the cross. My tears now stain it's wood and my breath and prayer are ingrained in it. And all I could tell my savior is that I have nothing left. That I feel lost in the darkness. All I could ask was where is He now? I was merely sitting by a tree and losing myself. I was sitting by a tree and begging for an ally, a friend, a hope.

I know that Jesus is in the darkness, battling my enemies and fighting to get to me. He is my warrior savior . . . . so why isn't anyone I know a warrior follower? I am hurt and frustrated, angry and tired. But the truth is . . . where is the church? Why am I battling alone? You can have your organization "the church", I don't want it anymore. I just want allies who will fight along side Jesus for me. And I promise you this one thing, I will be your ally in any battle of your lives. But I am going to leave the organization of "the church" out of it. I just want to fight for you because that is what Jesus is doing too.

Thoughts . . . .

2008-11-05T10:13:00.000-08:00

It has been a little over a week since I wrote much so I thought that I could at least share a few of my thoughts on life, cancer, the election, and random stuff.

Yesterday was another round of the dread radiation. I find myself constantly joking about the hope that it might give me super powers. In it is a lot of truth though. The mind seems to make analogies for us like this, the whimsical ideas that lie in our true selves. Do I actually have aspirations to gain superhuman qualities? No but yes! A yearning exists, a desires grows that there is a possibility that something extraordinary could come from what appears tragic. It is not the power that is appealing, more so the optimism that anything genuinely amazing and good can happen in the face of tremendous sorrow. The image of myself having astounding powers not only plays to my hope that something great can happen in the midst of hardship but also enables my heart to hold on to the fact that I might be able to, in time, become the greatest version of myself. That the making of who I am is not complete. Much like a song that still needs the words written, my life is beautiful and full in the music but still needs to communicate it's purpose in words. There is a greater version in all of use, a strive to the perfection we are intended to be, to be supermen. So because of all this I wear a necklace with a Superman symbol on it and words, "Go Forward". It is from the Christopher Reeves Foundation and is a great cause. So support your supermen in your life and buy a necklace to wear to show you believe that we all can be great version of ourselves.

www.wbshop.com/cat/Superman/Go-Forward-Dog-Tags

Now today is the day after. Last night I was blown away by the amount of my friends that are die hard conservative and how parts their faith go out the window with politics. Don't get my wrong I can care less about who anyone person voted yesterday. Everyone is allows to voice their personal choice. But last night after the election was won by President-elect Obama, I sat online and watched the status changes on Facebook. It is amazing how good people vent horrible things sometimes. There were countless, "Our country is screwed," comments. But here are few others, "Hilter brought change too", "God obviously wants America to suffer because He let this happen", or "Wow, you f*ckin' idiots put a n*gg*r in the White House. Hope he gets assassinated." I was sad to see these thoughts come from people I have grown up with, call friends, and even go to church with.

Now I know God can work through anyone he wishes. Brothers and Sisters, I am sorry you are disappointed in the election but I call to you ALL to stop the hate and pray for the president. If you see him as an enemy then pray more for him then if he was your ally. McCain lost this election because he put out a lot of fear, anger, and allowed his follower to exude hateful ideas and statements. Be mad for a minute, be frustrated, even say you are concerned. . . .but stop the hate, whatever your reason might be stop it.

I will tell you all why I voted for Barack Obama. And yes many of you are disappointed but get over it. I believe in Jesus with all of my heart and all that is within me. I prayed many times over who I should vote for and there was never a single time that God told me who HIS candidate was. Instead he gave me faith to follow my heart. Am I sure that is what God said to you too if you prayed for guidance.

Mr. Obama is a christian, maybe I don't agree with all of his personal beliefs but he believes in Jesus, our savior. And in the end, after reading hundreds of articles, websites and watching dozen of debates and campaign rallies in all came down to something simple to me. Which candidate reminded me of Jesus. Don't freak out, just read the rest. Jesus took care of the poor, healed the sick, brought peace to the people around him, united the people of God no matter their differing opinions (now the church has kind of screwed that up), and he instilled hope. He was calm before all accusations by his enemies, gather in the people without exclusion, and was not held by conventional rules (legalism to old testament). This is the Jesus I believe in. John McCain does have several of these characteristics and many of the fruits of the spirit. He is a good man that serves his country well. John McCain would be a good president. Yet in the end my heart lies in social justice and the greater good of humanity and this country. Barack Obama does have many of the qualities of Jesus. I know many people hate to hear that but it is true. I am sure many will throw out the idea of false prophets or other things but he is OUR President now.

What if he could unite use as people, what if this is the beginning to the end of racism and reverse rasicm, what if he can help make peace a reality, what if we can help the poor, what if we can give the sick a chance to be well. What if it is worth it to have hope? IS this not what our God, our Savior, our Jesus asked for use to do when he left this world. And if Barack Obama can't do these things then in 4 yrs we can vote for some else. But if we always do what we always done, then we always get what we have always gotten.

I don't write this to start debate but more to give perspective. The election is over but how we as believer support the president will change our country and our lives.

Also I have a few other thoughts:

I was totally bummed my Red Sox did not make the World Series but the Phillies winning was sweet.

I am totally stoked to go see Starfield in Des Moines on Friday . . . seriously anyone want to go with. Would love to hang out some peeps. If you have never heard of Starfield, you should get a little off itunes.

Both Pella and Pella Christian are tearing it up. Both football teams are still rolling (the main reason none of my friends want to go to Starfield, games are friday too).

I love the smell of drier sheets. . . it's true

And finally . . . we are two months away from new episodes of LOST. YEAH!!!

Get Busy

2008-10-26T12:24:00.000-07:00

Get busy living, or get busy dying - Shawshank Redemption

This week has allowed me to go back to a normal routine for the first time in over a month. It seemed strange to get up every morning with the intentions of going to work and not having to worry much about how I felt. The reason for this is because I didn't have to do radiation treatment due to my doctor wanting to evaluate how things are going so far and feeling a week off isn't going to kill. (Good news, I didn't die this week) The thing I didn't realize was how my body still is not back up to speed after a week. By friday night I was exhausted and drained. My head was completely clear and awake but my body refused to want to do much but sit and rest. And with all this I have had time to think about all that is going on without having to focus on appointments, treatments, and physical being.

On Monday night I decided to watch Shawshank Redemption. This is literally is my favorite movie ever. It was during my first bout with "the cancer" that I watched this movie a lot, mostly because I think TNT was playing it like 3 or 4 time a weekend and I didn't have the energy to change the channel. Well, it was that and I could watch that movie once a day and be fine with it. (And if you have never seen this movie . . . WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. . . go rent it or something)

Maybe it is because I feel like my life is some crazy drama movie or perhaps it is more so that I feel like I relate to the character of Andy Dufrense. There is point in the movie that Andy seems completely lost and ready to possibly end his own life when he utters these words in desperation, "Get busy living, or get busy dying."

For people that are health and things are going well . . . well, this probably does not strike a cord in you. But for the desperate, such as myself, these words are like water.

As I returned from radiation treatment yesterday this became very apparent. It is easy to shut down and think that life will never be the same again. And with all honesty there is rarely a soul that will disagree. Yet the beauty in the thought is that it is true, life will never be the same again. It has the opportunity to be something better, something different, something I would have imagined. Life doesn't change into something beautiful by shutting down. It only happens when we get busy living.

Life is never fair. . . we want it to be, but rarely will it. So you have two choices get busy living, or get busy dying.

Lament

2008-10-17T12:07:00.000-07:00

"This is not going to be easy." That is the thought that seems to crop into my mind as I start my days. Even the normal things of life seem just a little bit harder, a little more emotional, . . . . a lot less satisfying.

"This isn't the life wanted. . . . this is not how I pictured my future." It feels like these are whispers that are replayed in my head, looped like a bad Michael Bolton CD playing over and over.

"I don't want to die alone." The fear crops up in me like I am standing in front of a den of lions with no escape and I am clothed in only bacon flavored underwear.

And still within all of this I feel this great amount of guilt. It sits on my shoulders, my heart, and my soul. I believe in a good and loving GOD . . . . at least I thought I did. All this pain that literally no man should have to shoulder was dumped in my lap . . . it is like being thrown off a ship into the icy waters of ocean without a life preserver. The moment you hit the water it steals the breath right out of you and you fight with everything in your self to swim for the surface. . . . to try to breathe the air again. And when you reach the surface you see that you are alone and cold and with so little hope . . . in that moment the thought creeps in . . . . maybe I should have never come up for air at all. All that is left is to scream out. All the heartbreak, all the fear, and all the anger and loss.

But I always believed a good christian does not scream out in pain, instead they are to pray in hope. "Don't be angry with God. Don't tell Him how mad you are at Him. And don't you ever dare question what God is doing." I never heard a pastor say that but it is definately implied. People with strong faith would never doubt His goodness, never unload the real pain within us to the cross. . . . . just grin and bare it and pray.

So today I sit here to write this one truth I know. . . that is BULLSHIT!! Faith is not looking at the obvious broad strokes of life and praying hopefully that is what a person needs or wants. It is not taking all that the world can hit you with and say "See I can take it . . . now I am worthy of heaven." Perhaps it is ok to want a real relationship with Christ that allows me to say whatever it is that stirs my heart and not feel guilt about it. Not to always be saintly and ask to be content in what is breaking me or at peace about what steal my heart away from me. Does a man that is thirsty ask someone to help him be content in his need . . . no, he asks for water. Or should a dying man ask for peace in his demise . . . . no, he should ask for life (whether temporally or eternal). I am frustrated to death with the obvious christian approach to our needs, our hearts, our lives.

I want to pray that I am so angry to be in such depravity. I want to scream at the top of my lungs that I hate that He is letting go through all this at once. I want to ask the Lord to heal me but not to necessary take away the cancer. My heart needs him far worse than my body. I want to not be alone. . . not to be content in my lack of love in my life. I want to have hope in future that seem non existent and lost in all this. I desire to be completed in the tangible as well as the spiritual . . . . and for a long time the tangible incompleteness has been breaking me down. I refuse to feel guilty in that. Because in the end I need a relationship with Jesus like that, not shallow and blind faith. I need to be able to scream at Him because He is the only one that gets it . . . that will take . . . . that won't leave me if I do.

I lament because I love Him and want him to do . . . anything.

So pray for me. . . with me . . . in place of me. But pray for the things you think I need. Cancer is not be what defines my life in this period of time . . . but rather this is a time to be real with a savior and see how HE WILL save. And in this case how He saves me . . . . even if I lose this battle with life and death.

Laying on the Couch

2008-10-14T20:19:00.000-07:00

It is hard to know the right way to handle anything in life let alone the difficult situations. I find myself often trying to keep people updated on what is happening, where things are at and how I am so often that I am losing track of who knows what. So I feel that communicating in mass is a one way of dealing with getting out the wealth of information that I have.

So for many of you this is going to be the first time that you have read anything that I have written so I warn you now that I tend to be straight forward and often raw with the reality I am in. So there will be times when you might read something and think to yourself, "Did he really say that?" Don't be afraid . . . ok maybe a little afraid of what might come out of my fingers (this is typed and not spoken after all).

These last few months have been maybe the hardest and most trying months of my life. Now for some of you that know me that might be coming as a surprise because there have been some doozies when it has come to rough spots in my life. Honestly there are times that it has become almost humorous in the way life has played out. But in all honesty my hope, love, and faith in this world and life have been tested, stretched, and broken more so than I can recall. In the last few months the brutal force of this painful world has crashed down on me. There have even been night I hoped I would not awake ever again.

In the last two months I have tried to deal with heartbreak, a diagnoses of fibromyalgia, and the final blow was the finding out that I had non hodgkins lymphoma (cancer) about a month ago. Talk about your "What the hell is going on" kind of months. It has felt like one thing kept happening after another.

On october 7, 2008 I had a tumor removed from my lower back and was lucky enough that I was able to out patient surgery due to it's close location to the surface of my skin. I was not attached to any organs and the cancer was encapsulated in the actual tumor. In other words it had not spread to any other areas. So I am blessed in the fact that it was contained. I had about 4 stitched below my waist line and was sore for a few days but other than that it was not to bad. Hey they gave me so sweet pain killers that rocked my face off.

Today, was my first treatment of radiation. So that completely sucks. I went to the John Stoddard Center in Des Moines and was microwaved with some low grade radiation in my back. It has completely worn me out. I keep going from burning up to freezing and form crapped up to wanting to puke all over the place in about 10 second about twice a minute. Pretty much the crappiest feeling in the world. I am still holding out in hope that somehow I am going to gain some type of super power from all this radiation. Now I started out hoping to fly but now . . . . I am going for a little super strength and invincibility. So if you could pray for that to happen I promise to come protect all that need my super powered help.

But as for right now I am just laying on the couch and hoping that my heart will heal, my body will recover, and that this will all make me a better man than I was. I am so thankful for the friends that have reconnected and I miss the ones who have not. I love you all and want you all to know I am fighting. Please Pray for me and come back here for updates. I hope one day this is just a place to blog my thoughts and not my condition. Peace.