New Harmony

When no one listens
To the quiet trees
When no one notices
The sun in the pool

Where no one feels
The first drop of rain
Or sees the the last star

Or hails the first morning
Of a giant world
Where peace begins
And rages end:

One bird sits still
Watching the work of God:
One turning leaf,
Two falling blossoms
Ten circles upon the pond.

brown county state park

The Kendall family took a brief trip as soon as Wyatt was out of school to Brown County State Park.We did a little camping, a little swimming, a little bike riding, and very little sleeping. Vacation? Not so much. Fun shared experience with memories for the long haul? Definitely.

1912

This last weekend I traveled up to northern Indiana for the memorial service of my great uncle. It was a couple days spent in the company of family and friends remembering a fascinating man. On top of being a doctor and visionary in the medical field, Uncle Bob adored firetrucks. I can still remember sitting with my brother on his 1912 engine when we were kids. The 1912 was a treasure he restored and drove across the country as part of The Great Race in the 80's and remains the oldest operating fire truck in the world.  It was a joy to climb up into it one last time...

clifty falls

Montreat, NC

Last week, I traveled to Montreat, North Carolina to serve as an adult chaperon for a Presbyterian youth conference. Montreat is an historic retreat space, nestled into the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina about 10 miles east of Asheville. It is perhaps most recognizable by the singular stellar personality of Billy Graham who resides in Montreat most of the year now. In fact, when Billy Graham's wife died recently, the funeral service was held in Montreat's Anderson Auditorium - the very same auditorium where I worshiped with over 1,400 youth for five straight days.

Montreat is exceedingly beautiful with a fresh stream pouring through the center of the camp. All around the beautiful land, though, there is ample evidence of yuppie-ism flowing - typical I suppose of Presbyterians who have traditionally ranked behind Episcopalians in the "richest Denomination" award. It was not unusual to see throngs of youth groups traveling less than a mile by van from their rented houses to the worship area two or three times a day - bypassing the opportunity to walk along the creek shaded by many firs.

There was another duality present in the place. Close to Asheville and within a mile of Black Mountain, Montreat is a bit of California in Appalachia territory. But, then again, it is where Billy Graham resides, so it has been greatly shaped by more conservative and traditional Evangelical and revivalists perspectives as well. And, in fact, I found myself frequently thinking Montreat serves as a great example of the overall diversity within the PC(USA).

Besides those rather abstract matters, the week was full of what you would expect from adoloscent overload - lots of crazy skits, tons of singing and almost no individual time. Introverts beware: I am not sure Montreat is the place for you ... better to take your back pack and hike the Appalachian Trail. You may not get to worship where Billy Graham lives, but you can find yourself close to God and all the beauty God endowed upon us.

Wes

photo courtesy of David Rencher at lumis.com

Vacation - Day 1

Yesterday began a week-long vacation. We kicked it off with a long run ... part of Anna's training. She is using an intermediate training schedule to prepare her for a marathon in October. First week: 5 miles on Monday, 3 miles on Tuesday, 5 miles (faster) on Wednesday), rest on Thursday, 8 miles on Friday, 1 hr. of cross training on Saturday and 3 more miles on Sunday.

After the run, we raced the clock ... Wyatt's clock - trying to get the car packed and the house locked down before a Wyatt meltdown. Somehow we made it - stuffing the xA to the gills with stroller, bags, books, magazines, boy, groceries and cameras.

Just before we left, the mail woman stopped by with a book we had just ordered: Parenting with Love and Logic - from birth to six years. We alternated reading a chapter from that book and a book I've been reading about the Christian faith (The Geography of God by Lindvall). Sure made the miles go by easily and also gave great exercise to different parts of the old knoggin'.

The Love and Logic book is a practical look at the more general theory. I learned in Chapter 1 yesterday that parenting with Love and Logic means ... letting children participate in the decision making process (so long as it does not damage the planet or anyone on it) so that they become more self-assured and world-wise.

This is so funny and frightening: this is one of the first times I have honestly thought about how I am going to parent. Sweet mercy and God help me. I don't think my parents had a strategy for me, though, and you learn what you see.

Modeling, in fact, is also a big part of the Love and Logic method. Which is why I heard Anna blurting out from the book that it is totally cool to model to your children how to use the restroom - everything from showing them where the toilet is to how to sit on it properly to how to wipe your bottom ... and the kicker, letting them watch where your poo goes. Wow. I got really nervous when she said all of this - especially the last part - and the road was straight and clear as I could see.

I tried to imagine letting little Wyatt see the remains of my last days food consumption - horrifically disappearing before both of our eyes. Would this be okay to do with anyone else? Would I stand next to Smithers and watch him discard his poo? Okay, so I clearly have issues with my own potty habits.

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We made it up to Greencastle, safe and sound. That's where I am this morning ... on fifty plus acres of birdsong, wild wheat and the quiet life. Anna and her mom are off to take a walk - fenced in by a rich green and black tree line. I'm on boy duty. Pray he doesn't go to the bathroom.

Wes

300 Acres & 300 miles

300 acres of woodlands, a log cabin, a pond, two dogs, three deer, a turkey, one rope swing, and some good Foster's ... stir it up and you get one heck of a brief retreat from the (small) city of Owensboro.

Anna and I were kindly invited to join another couple out in Ohio County (east of Owensboro) on Saturday afternoon. After thinking about it for two seconds, we said, "hades yes!" It was grand. We enjoyed a wonderful meal prepared by our host (meatloaf, ceasar salad, mashed potatoes, asparagus and fresh bread) out on the wooden porch, listening to bird song and the subtle chirp of crickets. To top it off, we enjoyed some great cheesecake (two slices for me ... hehe) and a bottle of Red Truck wine (a white from Sonoma County).

Yes, it was all incredible, and I give such good thanks to be together with those friends ... in that place.

One thing also stuck with me ... that time, that place, they were inconsequential to the rest of the "world" in the sense of productivity or importance. For all intents and purposes, for an evening we had disappeared, dropped off the world or gone into some Bermuda triangle in between Louisville, Indianapolis and Nashville - an abyss devoid of art and entertainment, politics and religion, industry and commerce, just a wide space of creation and us under the darkening sky. Some people may be frightened by such isolation, by such a lack of relevance. Not me.

....

Anna takes off tomorrow for an art fair up in Milwaukee. She is going to take a class in precious metal clay - learning how to craft and bake clay into jewelry. Somehow this clay is transformed through refining into valuable metal. I envy her opportunity to see definitively and artistically the Refiner's Fire.

....

I'm going to stay around for two days - hopefully finishing up a sermon for Sunday and getting Wyatt's bedroom painted (yes, we are notoriously bad for doing house improvements in any timely fashion).

....

Then, I'm off to Greencastle with Anna's dad and on to Chicago Thursday to catch up with Andy LaDow - an incredibly gifted, humorous and satirical friend. He's being kind enough to see to my visit.

....

Friday I venture on up to Milwaukee to rejoin my wife and son. That same day we'll pack up the xA and travel the great distance back to Indianapolis for my mom's wedding this upcoming Saturday.

....

Sunday: back in Owensboro ... to preach and hopefully tend to a garden in our own backyard.

....

By the end of it all, those 300 acres are already going to be a distant memory, and I will shortly be in need of another stay in anonymity.

Wes

A Few Pics from Portland

In the heart of Portland is a community park. Up in the hills to the west, the park includes great vistas of the city, an incredible collection of roses and azaleas and rhododendrons, a Japanese garden, a zoo, and an arboretum. Within the rose garden there was a great sculpture (shown above).

Portland is known for its eccentric nature, which includes a wonderfully artsy, "green" series of blocks called the "Pearl District." Within this district is Powell's Books (world famous), which has taken over an entire block within the city.

This is a sunset view looking west (obviously) from Menucha. Menucha was the retreat center we stayed at for our time together. Menucha is Hebrew for "stillness." Actually, the Hebrew means something more like restorative stillness. Those of you who watch Lost will find a strikingly disturbing resemblance between the logo for Menucha and the Dharma Project. After staying there, I can tell you there were even more disturbing similarities - including a group of "Unity Churches" who would gather occasionally for drum circles.

Multnomah Falls. Wonderful. Beautiful.


Wes