Nay, we are but men. Rock!

My life tends to follow a certain pattern.  I will have one or two major life questions that are at the forefront of my mind.  I will spend anywhere from three months to a year diving into whatever question is before me and then I will have a down period where I won’t really think of anything of more depth than the Broncos or comparing and contrasting all of the Die Hard movies.  

The issue that I have been wrestling with lately is where is God in the midst of suffering?  I have been thinking about this ever since I read a novel called The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell.  All throughout my life I have heard people talk about God’s will in regards to pain and brokenness.  I would hear one person say to someone who has lost a loved one, “It’s OK they are in a better place now.  Sometimes it is hard to know the why but it was his will.”  It’s true that the person who has died might be in a better place and it is hard to know the will of God but to say that God caused so-in-so to die because it was part of his will is not entirely accurate.  I have an extremely hard time thinking that the God of love, grace, mercy, redemption, and life causes death and heartache.  I think we cause all of the crap that is in the world and God works with it.  I think to say that God causes death is to rob him of his redemptive power.  I serve the God who defeated death, not brought it about.  I believe God can take the s**t in our lives and redeem it.  He takes what was never intended and brings it into himself, where it finds love.  When someone talks about the silver lining I hear God’s hand at work.  When someone verbalizes some joy that has come out of great suffering I hear a God that refuses to abandon us. 

No, I serve a God of redemption and a God that will always bring us close even through the worst circumstances not a puppeteer that forces death and brokenness onto his creation for his own amusement or to accomplish a greater good.  The greatest good was defeating death and mending brokenness.  My uncle committed suicide yesterday.  I am not sure where the redemption is going to come from but it will come.  I am waiting with my God for the silver lining.

The Olympics are many things to many people; the hard work, the blood, sweat, and tears—all of that cliche stuff.

Also, this?

Looks like they wanted to keep lots of people from going home with more than a medal. If they didn’t, I imagine they would have to open up the ‘gold’ express lane at the clinic.

I guess the Olympics is all about love. Hah!

I mentioned in the post about my son getting a pebble stuck in his bronchial tube that there was a story to tell about my family and three other families camping and white water rafting/kayaking on the Rogue River in southern Oregon.  This is that story.  It was amazing.  There were parts of the trip that were hard but more that were not.  We went down with our small group from church.  I have been part of small groups before but this is the first one I can honestly say functions like what I think a small group should function like.  We share life together, not just Sundays.  It took a little getting used to, for everyone I’m sure, to know how to camp with so many other people.  I think we figured it out pretty well.

This was the first time any of the families, except one, had been camping with kids.  My wife and I are pretty avid outdoors-men, or outdoors-persons to be more accurate, and have spent a lot of time in the backcountry; our kids are one and three and have not.  The main difference I found between backpacking alone and car camping with kids is that camping, or being for that matter, anywhere with kids is fifteen million times dirtier.  It was dusty, muddy, outdoorsy bliss for anyone under the age of five.  The first thing the kids started doing when we got to the campsite was to start digging a hole.  Seems pretty exciting.  They worked on this hole the entire trip.  It was an obsession for them and they went at it with the fervor of a rabid wolverine fighting a pack of marmots.  I bet when they are all older they will say to one another, “Hey do you remember that time when we were camping and we dug that hole?” …pause for staring off into the distance and ford remembering… “That was a great hole.”

Apart from the hole digging there were other things that happened as well, all of which pale in comparison to the hole though.  We took a trip down the Rogue River in rafts and inflatable kayaks.  This was incredible.  I have not been on any white water since moving to Oregon three years ago and never in a kayak.  I’m sold.  If I have my druthers I will never ride in a raft again; it’s kayaks for me all the way.  We went down with a company called Obrien’s Rogue River Outfitters.  They were amazing.  I don’t normally make plugs but it was probably the best guided trip I have ever taken.  They have some pictures and a little blurb about our trip on their blog, http://www.rogue-river-rafting-trips.com

The only blemishes to the weekend were when my son inhaled the pebble, even though that probably shouldn’t count because we didn’t know about it until 10 days later, and when our friends’ son tripped over one of the guy ropes on my tent and got a spiral fracture of the femur.  That’s right I said a spiral fracture of the femur.  Crazy huh?  It not like he was traveling with any great velocity either.  He was running as fast as a two-year-old can run with only having 10 feet or so to gather momentum and tripped over the ropes and got a, incase I didn’t mention it earlier, spiral fracture of the femur.  He has to wear a cast that goes from his ribcage to his ankles with a dowel between his legs and a chunk taken out of the crotch so he can do his business.  So basically for the next five weeks or so he has to either lay down or stand up, and by stand up I mean be propped up against the wall.  If it were me I think I would name this chapter of my family’s life “Benadryl and Movies All Around.”  But that’s just me.

I am glad for this trip on many different levels.  I am glad that we got out and did something outside with my family.  I am glad that despite two of the children needing to have surgery because of the trip we are still looking forward to the next time we can cam as a group.  I am glad that we shared in so many different levels of experience together.  And I am glad our small group goes beyond superficial groups I have known in the past to being friends in the best sense of the word and when things are hard and some of us need help and support it’s there.