I’ve had this thing nagging at me for a while, an issue in the back of my mind which I keep bumping into and then turning away from. But since moving to Utah, I’ve come face to face with it a few times and now I’m really thinking.
The more I learn about my dog, the more I uncover lessons about God. In the midst of our move I’ve been watching our pup and her awareness of what’s happening around her. And like my wife’s pregnancy, the dog knows something’s going on, and change is coming, but she can’t really comprehend what it all means.
So amidst the packing, I’ve found another way I’m a lot like my dog.
Some people struggle with what they believe. I generally don’t. I can support my beliefs with logical facts or experience. Personally, spiritually, professionally, I could tell you what I believe.
I struggle with Faith. “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen”.
That stuff.
Life is a frustrating series of boundaries. I’ve always hated the things I can’t do, lack the talent to accomplish, or won’t find the access to attempt. And now, as a father, I will be forced into the role of “them”. I’m now part of the big, dark, unsupportive mass of people setting up the “don’t go near there” boundaries. So this has me thinking about how much the fences vary.
I’ve been thinking about two news events which happened within 24hrs of each other on Christmas day 2009:
Two men with deeply held religious beliefs illegally traveled into other countries to spread their messages. Neither succeeded, but both made news. And though the news coverage has been very different, I can’t shake the feeling that their stories are almost exactly the same.
Many of you told me you enjoyed the previous post on this topic. Now when I say “many”, I’m aware that there’s about 3 of you, so any two would actually represent a sweeping majority more clear than our last four Presidential elections…
But I digress.
I’m still finding myself taught by my dog ownership. Seeing God’s view of me through new eyes. Sometimes I realize just how boneheaded I am by watching my great dog make a decision based on her limited knowledge and freedoms. I make all kinds of decisions based on my own understanding, and how God must shake his head like I do at Sierra. But that’s the thing about freedom, you can choose something terrible. Click to continue »
I’m a child of 80s pop culture. Those were my defining years. And I’m a story teller and filmmaker, so the films from that era shaped me.
And the iconic films of the 80s were mostly made by one man, John Hughes. He died suddenly today, and in the outpouring of news articles and facebook updates I find myself once again reflecting on how much I hate our response to those who have died.
Here’s a man who shaped a decade of comedy filmmaking. And he shaped a generation of filmgoers. Yet in recent years his work has been discounted as out of date, while gross-out work like Judd Apatow and Will Ferrell has been heralded as the way comedy should be done. Click to continue »
Unless you live in a bunker with no internet or television, you know that Swine Flu is the hot topic and disease of the moment. And in this constant barrage of updates and headlines touting “pandemic” I’m struck again by America’s #1 creation. We used to lead the world cars, computers, electronics, and freedom, but now we lead in one area: Panic and Fear.
All you need is a driver’s license and credit card in order to put yourself in a vehicle the size of your local highschool gym. No special training. Not even a pamphlet.
So after my recent excursion in the biggest rental trucks available I offer the following observations – in case you ever need them:
Click to continue »
When I moved to Los Angeles I had my share of nay-sayers. Some folks in influential or mentor-type roles really questioned my thinking. I was 23 years old and “following a dream”. One in particular asked me “How long do you intend to do this?”
Wanting terms and conditions. A quantifiable plan. Milestones.
I responded “How long is a dream worth chasing?” That shut them up. They had no answer for that, and I don’t think they’d ever even thought of the question.
Now, thirteen years later I don’t have an answer for it either. How long is a dream worth chasing? I find that to be the lingering query of my existence. If forced to answer I would quickly say “as long as I have breath…”
But reality does dawn… even on us dreamers. Click to continue »
