California Photo Essay Part 2

So then and such.

Following that trip to Venice Beach, we went to Santa Monica, and Clara did another happy dance.

A few days later, we went out for dinner at Walters, in downtown Claremont, one of our favorite spots. It was delightful.

The next day I took a friend for a short hike up to San Antonio Falls, on the trail to Mt. Baldy. Most people don't know that Southern California has some pretty amazing mountain scenery.

 This is what it looks like from those mountains, looking back into the valley.

A few days later, it was time to take the kids to Knott's Berry Farm. Unfortunately, Clara was arrested.

 The trial didn't go well.

 

Eventually she got out, and the girls went to school.

 'Murica. 'Nuff said.

 

On the way home, we stopped and Farrells and the girls got balloon animal hats.

Eventually, it was almost time to leave California, but we decided to go to the beach one last time. So we spent the day in Laguna Beach, where it was beautiful and hot and sunny and crowded and lots of fun playing in the ocean. Most of you know how that turned out. I left there with a messed-up shoulder, with two torn muscles and torn cartilage, the result of being flipped over and driven into the sand by an angry wave. Unfortunately, in all the chaos we didn't get any pictures of that day. Instead, we went to a mall so I could buy a sling and some medicine. When we got there, the sun was setting over Newport. So here's the sunset, which makes it look like the city is blowing up, which is kind of how I felt at the moment.

 

And then it was time to head back to Washington.

Next up: Dan's trip to Atlanta!

The summer of growing up

I had some free time in Tacoma a few weeks ago and wandered into a Big Lots!. I don't tend to spend much time in Big Lots!; I'm not sure I've been in one since we left Turlock. But I found myself in the back corner, back where they sell the cheap plastic toys made in China and shipped over here to fill our closets. And I had a flashback to visiting Big Lots! back in the day, when we'd wander in there with Olivia in a stroller, and we could spend $.95 and it made her happy for a couple days. Back when we'd push the shopping cart back there and her eyes would light up at the splendor of plastic cars and dolls and dogs and buckets and such. Back when we could buy one of those cheap plastic things and give it to her in the car, and all would be well.

The good old days.

While in Colorado, Olivia officially became eligible to join in for the Middle School activities. Even Clara is mostly past the stage of being fascinated by cheap plastic trinkets. The back corner of Big Lots! has lost its hold on our kids as they move into more complicated things, like puzzles and tree houses and books and lighting fires in the back yard.

The kids are growing up and the wonders of toddler-hood have been left behind. And that just makes me a little bit sad.

One of the things I like

is making my girls happy.

Like today, when Clara came to me and said, "Daddy, I hope you never have to become a Viking and kill people." To which I replied, "Okay then, I'll never become a Viking."

And she said "Good" and walked away with a smile.

Sometimes parenting is pretty easy.

Um, ouch (part 2)

Warning kids: do not try this. At home or anywhere else.

Thursday night, the first night of our weekend camping trip. First campfire, first s'mores. The 9-year-old is excited to roast her marshmallow. Gets it flaming hot, almost dripping off the marshmallow roaster stick. Makes a quick turn to retrieve her chocolate and cracker. At the same moment I lean in to stir the fire a bit.

Molten flaming gooey sugary mass connects with my right cheek. Now I understand how napalm works. It sticks to you, burning through your skin even as you desperately try to get it off, pull it off your eyelashes, keep it from going into your eye.

Yeah. That hurt. 2nd-degree burns all-around. And all the kids staring at me, wondering why I'm shouting and flailing and generally making a scene.

Here's a picture 5 days later. The blisters have popped, thankfully. Interestingly,we had purchased freshly-made Whole Foods mallows, which are square-shaped. Which is why, if you look closely, the scar is in roughly a right-angle.

The way I figure it, at least this all made for a memorable camping trip.

Conversation of the day

Precocious 9-year old, to her younger sister: Right. Be nice to your brother and sister. It's one of the 10 Commandments.

Theologian Dad: Actually it isn't.

Precocious 9-year old: Well, it should be.

Book Review: Think Orange

Reggie Joiner is rightfully concerned that the Church, in general, isn't doing a very good job at family ministry. At youth ministry. At children's ministy. He's also rightfully concerned that families are struggling like never before, and that, in that struggle, our society is facing turmoil and upheaval at its core. Think Orange, the book and the philosophy, is his response, a challenge to the church to partner with the family in order to raise up generations who know what it is to walk "in the way," and in order to strengthen families in the here and now.

Joiner's primary image is this: The church is called to shine the Light of Christ in the world, illuminating the work of Christ and drawing people to Christ. (Hint: Light is represented by yellow). Families are the heart and soul of society, families are the primary location people learn of love, acceptance, sacrifice, and relationships. (Hint: Love is represented by red (think Valentine's Day)). When you mix red and yellow you get -what? Orange!

This is the heart of Think Orange - mixing red and yellow. The problem, according to Joiner, is that families are struggling to survive, parents are struggling to raise their children, young people are leaving the Church for the world in droves. . .and the Church is over in the corner, running programs that seem to have no effect in helping any of these problems. The Church, it seems, has developed a host of programs and ministries that help the individual groups: children, youth, and adult, but none of these maintain any synchronicity with a larger plan. The childrens' ministry does its thing, youth ministries do their thing, and adults go their way to study the theology of the minor prophets. Then families go home and struggle to make sense of it all in a confused and confusing world. As Joiner laments, "Most churches are characterized by random acts of ministry to the family." Parents have no idea how to impact the spiritual life of their children. Children don't know how to navigate the multiple messages that bombard them day in and out. Youth have no clue how all this 'church stuff' impacts their larger life.

The answer, says Joiner, is for the church and family to combine forces. "What we should really be concerned about is our collective ability to influence a generation to have a stronger, deeper, and more authentic relationship with God." All of this he summarizes with two important points:

1. Kids need parents who will help them advance in their relationship with God.
2. Parents need churches that will help them know how to be spiritual leaders.

Think Orange is not, then, another book on catchy childrens' ministry. It is, instead, a complete reworking of the junction where churches and families come together to disciple, raise, cherish, teach, and lead children and youth in their pursuit of Christ.

A couple of strengths of this book:
1) One of the earlier chapters lays out an impressive theology of family, something sorely lacking in the overall discussion.
2) The book is biblical - while it includes cultural references and sociological research, the ideas and plans are all soundly based within a biblical framework of ministry.
3) The book has lots of pictures and charts.
4) The book recognizes the reality that no family or church is perfect, that setting impossible standards only frustrates people; it is realistic in the goals it sets out, while still setting a high bar in pushing us toward excellence.
5) The book is a great place to even start the discussion. I bought a couple extra copies for a few people in our church, and hope this stimulates us toward new growth and a stronger overall sense of mission.
6) The book comes with a host of resources, and is backed up by Joiner's Orange Leaders website.
7) If anything, the book will challenge and stimulate your own thinking regarding how you go about your family ministry, the assumptions behind it, and why it may or may not be working very well.

A couple things about which I wasn't quite so impressed:
1) Honestly, at times the whole "orange" metaphor seemed a little stretched. By the time the metaphor was presented, I could have done without the multiple examples of Orange showing up in society. Perhaps, to this reader, it came too close to "cutesy" at that point. So what if somebody sells an orange amp? It doesn't seem to matter to the rest of the book.
2) There were other times when it seemed Joiner was writing primarily to large churches with multiple staff and large creativity budgets. The idea of regularly re-painting your children's area to go with that quarter's theme seems fun and exciting, but how many churches have the people and the finances to do that? Of course, the response would be that we all need to read with discerning ears and take away what we can, but I would have enjoyed some examples of how small churches with small budgets and small, over-committed volunteer staffs can bring these ideas to fruition.

Overall, I am glad somebody sent me a copy of Think Orange. I confess I probably wouldn't have picked it up myself, and I wasn't all that eager to dig into it, but once I did (mostly on a flight to Denver last November), I found myself drawn in, challenged, and encouraged by the vision it contains. As I said, I'm hoping it influences the vision and work of our church; I think it would be of value to any and all who are concerned about families and those who minister with and to them.

Peaceful Morning

I wandered out this morning to put some scraps on the compost pile; as I walked across the driveway I heard a crunching in the forest to the south.

I wandered over to the edge and peered into the trees, where I saw three deer making their way through the brush down our gulley. The mom and little one glanced up but continued on, the father kept his eyes on me until the others were safely beyond a small ridge. He and I stared at each other for five minutes, neither moving, neither feeling the need to end the moment.

But I had kids to get to school, and so I flinched first, walking back to finish the compost job and pick a few ripe tomatoes on the way back.

It was a peaceful, magical moment, and another reminder of why I'm glad we moved out into the woods, on the peninsula, across the water from the Big City.

___
On another note, today was a momentous day - Clara's first day of preschool. And so it begins. And so it ends.

Just to be perfectly clear on something. . .

I have a brother named Michael. I often call him "Mike." Thus, Mike Whitmarsh is my brother. However, Mike Whitmarsh my brother is not the same as Mike Whitmarsh, the former olympic and professional beach volleyball player who was just found dead of an apparent suicide.

Back in the mid-90s, I enjoyed the name connection. There was a billboard in Upland that read "Whitmarsh Kills," playing off the "kill" that is a volleyball spike. One summer at camp our youth group kids spread the rumor that their youth pastor was "Mike Whitmarsh's brother - and he taught Mike everything he knows!" Random people started approaching me in awe - "Are you really Mike Whitmarsh's brother?" And I could answer "yes" without even lying.

It is certainly sad that that Mike felt life was no longer worth living, and that he has chosen to end it this way. But lest there be any confusion, my own brother is very much alive.

The great irony in all this is that today is my brother's birthday.

Sometimes, as a father, I shudder

Two articles I came across this morning that make me want to pack my bags and move to, idk, Wasilla Alaska, maybe?

First, a September article about the media's attempts to sexualize our girls, even when they are as young as four years old. I'm not sure which is more disturbing:
- the thought of little girls dressing up in vampy clothes and dancing for the delight of strangers
- the parents who actually find this sort of thing appropriate, or, even worse, "cute."
- the corporate entities who are taking our daughters' innocence all the way to the bank

Second, Andrew Jones' account of his daughter being given the HPV vaccine, in spite of the fact that he and his wife and his daughter ALL agreed it would be better if she opted out, and checked the "no" box on the consent form. Seems the dr. went ahead and did it anyway.

Again, a perfect example of "professionals" thinking they know better than you as a parent. And the unsettling suspicion that, behind it all, nefarious corporations are getting rich by turning peer pressure against those who would choose not to consume their product.

via
____

It already began with us a few weeks ago, when we first heard "but daddy, ALL the other kids bring their ipods on the school bus. I'm the ONLY kid on the bus that doesn't have one." This from our innocent third grade daughter. And I've seen enough in all my years as a youth pastor to know it doesn't ever let up.

What Clara's saying

"Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy. Watch my amazing trick, daddy."

Mine eyes have seen the glory

Just a quick personal note, for those of you who consider yourself family or friends. . .

On Monday morning I'm going in to meet with my ophthalmologist in Seattle. If all goes well, we're going to schedule a corneal transplant near the end of October. I'm not looking forward to facing eye surgery, but I am looking forward to being able to see a little more normally.

As it is, the new contact I got a few months ago isn't really working, and if we didn't do surgery, it would probably be another 4-month process with multiple trips to the doctor, multiple attempts with different lenses, all to find one that would work for another year or two. At this point, surgery seems a lot better option.

I'll let you know more, after Monday.

In the meantime, my sister broke her foot yesterday, while at the hospital for a meeting, no less. And my brother totaled his car in an accident last week. So it's an adventurous couple weeks for us all.

Happy Third Birthday, Clara

In the News

My dad was quoted in the Gig Harbor Gateway yesterday.

Phil Whitmarsh rode the school bus with Jerstad and said all the kids called him “Buddy” through their elementary and middle school years.

Meet Clara

So about that storm

Drove up to Kingston on Friday, took the ferry across to Edmonds. Got off the ferry, noticed some of the cars had snow on them. Climbed the hill out of town and noticed snow falling from the sky. Met my parents for dinner at Kafe Neo (Greek food - yum!). All during dinner kept commenting "Wow - it's snowing outside."

Drove over to my brother's place in Lynwood through a blinding snowstorm. Imagine "Over the River and Through the Woods," or your favorite Christmas card. Only remember this is in late April.

Spent the night at Mike's house. The kids went out and built a snowman. All night long the power came and went as snow-laden branches fell on power lines and transformers blew.

By Saturday morning, 6-8 inches of snow covered everything. Most beautiful were the maple trees all abloom, and the tulips sticking up through the snow. So much color, laying underneath the covering white.

As Saturday progressed, snow turned to hail, which brought with it thunder and lightning. The kids did find more time to go out and play.

Eventually, we drove back to Lakebay where, alas, there is no snow. Although it's supposed to be in the 20s tonight.

So, imagine that one. April 20. 8 inches of snow, as in deepest winter. I think we'll remember this weekend for years to come.

Now, hopefully back to our regular programming.

All I Really Want

is a clean, uncluttered workspace. An open space in which to read, to ponder, to pray, to study. A space free of distractions and piles, a space conducive to relaxation, to rest, to stillness in which I might hear the Lord speak.

But I have kids. And they stop by the office sometimes. And they write me notes that they stick up on walls. And they pull the books off my shelf, and play with the toys I have on display. They drop cookie crumbs all over my carpet. They make messes.

Let's face it. Kids are distracting.

But I suppose it's a good trade-off, in the end.

Especially on those days when God decides to speak through your kids, rather than in spite of them.

Have a good Leap Day, everyone.

One of those days

Yesterday was once again one of those days that makes the rest of the world wish they could live in the Puget Sound area. Clear blue skies, snow-capped peaks ringing the flatlands, waves chopping the Sound, a crisp, chill bite to the air, a high of about 34 degrees. . .ah. What could be better?

We took the ferry over to Seattle yesterday morning, so Olivia and I could meet my dad and go together to the Model Railroad Show at the Pacific Science Center. The ferry ride would have been enough, with a view up toward Mt. Baker, and Mt. Rainier holding court to the south, the waves blowing liquid spray over the bow of the boat. The model railroad show was certainly a lot of fun - Olivia especially noticed the preponderance of Thomas the Tank Engine models - and the MLK Jr. festivities in the Center House, complete with Gospel Choir, all made for an exciting afternoon.

There's a park on Queen Anne Hill. If you've never been there, I'm certain you know about it anyway. Because 1/2 of all postcard shots of Seattle are taken from this location.

Recognize it? Go ahead, google "Seattle" and click on images. You'll find this picture, and many variations on it. It may be Seattle's most famous viewpoint.

Unbeknownst to a lot of people, though, they recently installed a marvelous children's play area at the park that lies directly below this park. Our kids were a little wired and needing to burn some energy off, so we took them to that play area, letting them slide and climb and swing to their heart's content.

Later we wandered back upup, and noticed that in addition to the news crew, there were many photographers setting up their tripods, staking out prime viewing locations. It was becoming quite a crowd.

It took me a bit to finally understand what was happening. They were all setting up to watch the sunset over Puget Sound, with the light of the setting sun reflecting off of downtown and Mt. Rainier.

So I went back down, collected the girls, and climbed back up again, so we could all enjoy this rare Seattle display of sunshine.

You know those scenes you see on tv, when a star is walking down the red carpet, or shows up at a night club - the oohing and aahing, the click-click-click of camera lenses?

It was like that. We all watched to the East until the last sliver of the sun disappeared behind the Olympics, and suddenly cameras came alive, people stirred in excitement and wonder, couples stood to have their pictures taken with the city as their background, a hundred professional and amateur photographers got off shot after shot, painters feverishly worked their brushes and water colors. . .the city lit up in gold flake - the sun glinting off the high-rise windows - while Mt. Rainier chortled in purple majesty.

All of this for nature, for beauty, for mountains and snow and setting sun. It was an instant community, gathered for the sole purpose of enjoying the most impressive lighting display you will ever see. "The Heavens Declare the Glory of God, the Skies proclaim the works of his fingers."

It was wonderful and magical and heart-warming to be a part of. I think Heaven may be just a little bit like that. And I was gladdened to see that people still care about this world in which we live.

It was, as I said, a day to make the rest of the world jealous. And a day to remember for many, many days to come.

Oh, and then - we stopped and ate El Salvadorian food for dinner on the way home. So make it simply the most perfect day ever.

The Season of Our Discontent

If you are the praying type,

Since October 18, we've had at least one person sick in our household. More often it's been two or three sick at the same time. For a brief moment, it was all four of us who had it. Olivia has missed about 10 days of school in that time. I think the girls have made it to church once in the last month. And it just won't seem to go away. They come almost all the way back. . .and then wake up coughing and hacking, or with ear infections or swollen throats.

And, it appears that Humby the Happy Goldfish is in his last day with us. He's doing the floating-upside-down, sinking-to-the-bottom, listless-shaking, death-throes thing. He's been with us since long before we left Turlock, making the drive up to Washington in the back of the Jeep, keeping Scottie and me company along the way. So he's pretty special to Olivia.

We could use a little health and encouragement at the moment.

Halloween Shot

Montana Trip: Three Stories

Okay, first this. The trip was wonderful. Amazing. Truly one of the best we've taken. The fall colors of the Rocky Mountains were breathtaking. Glacier National Park is a must-see. And taking the train is always a great way to travel. So, yes, Karina and I celebrated our 10th anniversary in style.

Now, three highlights of the trip:
1. After a restless night of fitful sleep as we crossed Eastern Washington and Idaho, we awoke in Montana and headed to breakfast in the dining car. Somewhere between the Flathead Tunnel and Whitefish we were seated, sharing our table with another couple, probably in their mid-50s. We exchanged pleasantries about our lack of sleep, where we hail from, where we're heading, and then. . .the "and what do you do?" question.

Me: "I pastor a small church in Washington."
They: "Oh? What kind of Church?"
Me: "It's a Christian Church. With the Evangelical Covenant Denomination."
They: "So, what do you think of Jehovah's Witnesses? Are they a cult? Because we just went to a conference in Portland on Creationism, and the speaker said Jehovah's Witnesses are a cult."
Us "Well, good morning to you, too!"

And so it went. I suspected, and had it confirmed by the nature of their questioning, that they were JWs, and were trying to draw me into a debate. But I hadn't even had breakfast yet. So I remained civil and open, refusing to answer their questions, but instead spent most of the next 20 minutes explaining the orthodox view of Christ, and how the JWs differed in their interpretation. It was an interesting morning, to say the least. Thankfully, before they could start to argue too much, we realized we were 10 minutes from West Glacier, and therefore had to return and gather our stuff. And that was the end of that, thankfully, without any shouting or insulting (which, incidentally, is what the last JW I had the privilege of sharing with ended up doing).

2. On Thursday we hiked up Apgar Mountain. It's about a 6 1/2 mile round trip, with a 1600+ foot elevation gain to the top. The hike was beautiful, the weather perfect, and no bears were in sight. At the top, we met an IT guy with the Park service who was in the process of putting up a web cam, so that all the world can see the view from Apgar Mountain. He was very friendly and answered a lot of questions for us. We even ended up hiking back down together. But as he was installing the camera, coordinating via cell phone with his boss back at the office, he had to get a picture as a reference point. So he had us stand in front of the camera, and we became the first people to have their picture taken by the Apgar Mountain Webcam. Here's the picture:



Unfortunately, at last check, the camera had gone down. But you can check here, and see if it comes back sometime soon. And while you are there, check the Lake McDonald webcam. That will show you the view from our cabin. Or thereabouts, anyway.

3. On the way out, I had this crazy little idea, one of those thoughts that keeps pestering you and won't go away. So when we were in Whitefish, I went into the Amtrak station and asked about getting a ticket from Edmonds to Seattle - the last 30 minutes of the return trip. Turns out a kid can get on that for only $4. And thus it was that Saturday morning my dad drove Olivia up to Edmonds, where she hopped on the train and rode the last little jaunt down Puget Sound into King Street Station. We showed her our sleeping compartment, the dining room, the view along the way, and she was suitably impressed. Probably a $4 well spent, when you consider the treat it was to her, and the memories she'll carry of waiting at the station with grandpa, and the ride in mommy and daddy's personal compartment. I bet we just made an Amtrak passenger out of her. Here we are on the trip:
So there you have it. We have another picture or two to upload, eventually, but let this suffice for now. Glad to be back. . .wish we were still there.