A Whole Bunch of New Posts...

Day 161: Reunited        

"Look who's back?!!!"  -- Katie

This is going to be very, very quick because I got to talk with Katie…I was at church until late…and I have to get rolling early in the morning. It's Round 2 of our back-to-back men's/women's retreat weekends. 

I just wanted to say that I was very happy to get the picture Katie texted of her and Maybelline. I think it's great that you're all together again. Maybelline was a very good motivator through Virginia and a real Trail Angel/NYC Tour Guide. I hope and pray you are all able to spur each other on…to hike with abandon…and reach Katahdin soon! I'm going to go back to that familiar Bible passage from Ecclesiastes 4:9-10:

"Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!"

Enjoy the rest of your stay in Hanover…then get back at it! We need you home.  

Love,

Dad

Day 162: No Writing

Preparing for men's retreat...

Day 163: Wilderness Experience 

"I know I'm supposed to say something like, 'I feel so close to God' or something like that, but I can't. I feel lost and distant and unsure if we should even do this." 

When Stephen Krieger said this Thursday night, I thought to myself, "He's in the perfect place to head out into the mission field!"

Listening to Stephen Krieger give his thoughts and feelings about he and Hillary (and their yet-to-be-born little baby) heading off to a 4-year missions trip to England was eye-opening and honest. He shared with an honesty that's rare in just about anywhere else--except Flatirons. Stephen didn't pull any punches when he told everyone in the room (most of whom were their financial supporters!) that he was scared…and doubtful…and feeling distant from God. You could see a lot in the room lean forward or shift awkwardly in their chairs. 

I got goosebumps.

I couldn't help but think about the spiritual and emotional desert Stephen was in…and all those other desert or wilderness experiences God let people walk through in the Bible: Abraham, Jacob, Moses, David, Elijah…and Jesus. There almost seems to be a pattern in how God sends people into the wilderness before He does something big or amazing with them. Moses led the Israelites for 40 years in the desert…living off of daily provisions from God…until they finally entered the Promise Land and became a sovereign nation. David ran for his life into the wilderness…living a very hard life in caves, climbing like a mountain goat…and eventually came back to civilization and took the throne as king of Israel. And even Jesus went off to the desert…for forty days and forty nights…without food or water…and then started His ministry and changed the world. 

Listening to Stephen Thursday got me very excited about what God has in store for the Kriegers next. I have so much hope for them because I firmly believe that God is allowing him to walk through this spiritual desert in preparation for the big and amazing things He's got in store for them next. Driving home that night…I thought of you two…and the wilderness you've been walking through since April…wondering what big and amazing things God has in store for YOU next! Will you come back to your Promise Land? Will you establish your own kingdom and live out your lives as a couple "after His own heart"? (1 Samuel 13:14)

Only God knows…and all I know is that it will be big and amazing!   

Love,

Dad

Day 164: Echoes 

His voice echoed across the hills surrounding the gymnasium and hot tub. I was walking down the road that led from the guest house I was staying at for men's retreat and the center of Crooked Creek Ranch in Fraser, CO. I was too far away to recognize him, but he looked like he was in his mid-40s. It was near the end of Free Time and this man and his buddy were just lounging in the hot tub in the 78 degree sun at 9,000 feet altitude. The water in the hot tub and the hillside that wrapped around it made it acoustically perfect. He sounded like he was right next to me:

"Yeah. My dad never hugged me or showed any affection. Never. Never told me he loved me, either. STILL hasn't! I don't know. I guess it's the way it's always gonna be." 

This guy said it with little, to no, emotion. No pain. No anger, just a simple statement. Like he was telling his buddy what he had for lunch that day. It made me sad. I thought to myself, "Who doesn't tell their kids 'I love you'? And what kind of dad doesn't hug his son? But the truth is, there's a lot of them out there. Lots of them end up in my office…and sitting in the hot tub at men's retreat. A lot of them hide the wounds and scars left by their fathers; scars of abuse, passivity or neglect. I spent the weekend at Crooked Creek again with 500 men from Flatirons for our fall installment of the ROYAL Men's Retreat…and lots of these men fit into that category; hurt and wounded by their fathers. 

The great thing about this weekend: I got to see a lot of those men learn that they have a Father…One that loves them…and has given them a portion of His kingdom. They got to hear how God can help them love with a whole heart…with all their heart, soul, mind and strength (Luke 10:27) and how to deal with the pain and anger left by their fathers. Ephesians 6:4 reads:

"Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord."

     

There's a reason Paul only speaks to fathers here; only fathers can wound and hurt (exasperate) their children this deeply. A father is supposed to love and protect his kids and when he doesn't…through abuse, passivity or neglect…he hurts them deeply and they end up carrying that burden for years…until God is allowed to lift that burden and heal them. 

I got to see and hear that healing last night…under a clear sky littered with a billion stars…standing by a raging fire…as man-after-man threw his past into the flames and chucked his burden into an abyss of darkness. And as each man ended this ritual…the other 500 bellowed into the cold night air a howl of, "Aaahoo!" that echoed like nothing I'd ever heard before. Over and over again. Over 500 times…500 men's voices…all in unison, "Aaahoo! Aaahoo! Aaahoo! Aaahoo!……" 

The echo of our voices shook the night.    

It was powerful. And maybe God was able to use that raging fire…and those burdens flung into the night…to finally bring peace to a lot of exasperated hearts. And maybe the echoes of our "Aaahoo!Aaahoo! Aaahoo!…" were able to devour the echo from the hot tub earlier that day…and all the other voices and lies that have echoed inside those mens heads for years.

Maybe. 

Aaahoo!   

Love,

Dad

(Watch the ROYAL Men's Retreat wrap-up video at: www.flatironschurch.com/mens)

Day 165: The Depths of the Sea  

So, I can't help it. My mind's still working through all the stuff that happened this past weekend at men's retreat. My head is cluttered with all the great conversations…and meetings…and experiences I was able to witness. And I keep wondering about ALL the other stuff I never saw…or will ever see; things that only God is privy to. 

There's a lot of personal stuff that I can never share, but there's one that I can…and that I want to share. Here goes:

We've been very careful not to tell folks about what goes on at the ROYAL men's and women's retreats because we did back-to-back men's and women's in the spring…and we're repeating the exact same thing here in the fall. We didn't want to let any of the teachings and experiences out in the spring…and possibly ruin the experience for men and women in the fall. But I'm safe now. By the time anyone else reads this on my men's blog…both fall retreats will be over. And I think I'm safe in telling you…over 1,200 miles from home. 

A big part of this weekend revolved around the burdens each of us carry; burdens of sin, shame, regret, abuse, and so on. To emphasize this, each man this past weekend (and woman this coming weekend) was given a cloth backpack…one of those simple canvas tote bags with the strings you can carry on your back. They were told to take the bag, then to pick out a large rock from a pile..put it in the cloth backpack…and wear it…at all times…until you were given instructions to take it off. That was first thing Friday night. On Saturday morning, Jim told the men to write on strips of paper the junk and names and lies the men have been told…or believed about themselves…and to put those things in the bag. I won't get into the rest, but suffice to say, they were able to deal with those stone burdens…and those strips of paper filled with lies…in a powerful way.

But the thing is…some of those men didn't write on paper. They wrote on the stones themselves…and on Sunday…after ridding themselves of those rocks on Saturday night…they were given a rock back and told it had changed. It was different now; no longer a burden, but a rock to build a SOLID foundation on (Matthew 7:24-27). Well, we couldn't give anyone one of the rocks that were written on, so I took all those and went to get rid of them.

First of all, looking at those rocks was like coming across someone's diary or journal. They were all anonymous, but it still felt like I was invading someone's privacy. I didn't read them all, but what I could see was heartbreaking. The things that some of those men think about themselves…or the lies they've been told…sank in my heart…like the rock itself.

And that's when I got the idea of how I was going to dispose of them.

I couldn't just chuck them over a hill. Someone may come across it…and once again (like I did) invade an anonymous privacy. So I loaded them up in one of the camp's mini-trucks and drove to the pond at the front of the camp property. Then, one-by-one I took those stones…and those lies…and those names…and threw them in the water. Each of those "burdens"…about 10 in all…and sunk them in the pond. It felt great! I know I've already shared Galatians 6:2 with you before, but it's the verse that was in my head as I threw each of those rocks into the pond:

"Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ."

I stood at that pond and was overcome by the honor I had that morning. I was not only carrying someone else's burden…I was helping them get rid of it…for good…burying it underwater…never to be seen again. And I thought about the promise we have in Jesus…and how God deals with our sin the same way when we put our trust in Him where we're told:

"You will again have compassion on us; you will tread our sins underfoot and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea."  (Micah 7:19)      

What do people do without that hope?

Love,

Dad

Day 166: Wild Places  

Tomorrow we get to go to the mountains.

I know you've been in the mountains for most of the last 5 1/2 months, but not us. Tomorrow Jim and I are taking Jonah and Emery up to the property. I think Jim needs to check the progress on the installation of his road or something. He told me that he was taking Jonah up there with him and asked if I wanted to get Em and join them. Of course, the answer was "Yes!" I can't wait! Em LOVES being in the wild…and playing in the creek…and throwing "Big Wocks" into the stream. Ali promised to send the bug spray with her. Emery's still got the remnants of the bug bites from July 4th weekend.

(Emery and her hiking pack)

Katie, Emery reminds me so much of you at that age. She's fearless and adventurous when it comes to being in the wild. I love that we get to indoctrinate her at such an early age…like Mom and I did with you, Katie…with all those camping trips to Eisenhower State Park in Texas. You seemed to be covered in perpetual mosquito bites through most of the summer when you were growing up. Then, as you moved into high school and out of school…you went camping with your friends on your own. What would have happened if we never took you camping or let you experience the wilderness? It makes me sad--thinking of all those girly-girls who are afraid of bugs and wildlife and being outdoors. Katie, I love that you love nature and hiking…and even love the two skunks that invaded the shelter you, Maybelline and Kismet stayed in the other night after taking Maybelline to the hospital for her allergic reaction to peaches. Wow. Anyway, most women (your mother included) would have cashed it in a LONG time ago…way before the skunk invasion. 

I have a strong feeling Em is going to be one of those girls who thrives in the woods and the wild places…and I can't wait until you get home and help her learn some more. Until then, she gets to go with her Grampa, her Pop Pop, and her cousin Jonah to build on her lifetime of loving the outdoors.

"He (God) makes springs pour water into the ravines; it flows between the mountains. They give water to all the beasts of the field; the wild donkeys quench their thirst. The birds of the sky nest by the waters; they sing among the branches. He waters the mountains from his upper chambers; the land is satisfied by the fruit of his work.  (Psalm 104:10-13)

By the way, Katie. Thanks for the picture of you on top of Mt. Moosilauke…and especially for the note:

"360 miles to go!"    

We're down to days...

Love,

Dad

Day 167: Peanut  

"Your love, Lord, reaches to the heavens, your faithfulness to the skies. Your righteousness is like the highest mountains, your justice like the great deep. You, Lord, preserve both people and animals."  (Psalm 36:5-6)

We're getting ready to leave to head to Indiana and Ohio. I've had this trip on my calendar since early spring. When I was asked by Scott Hundley to come up to his church to speak I thought, "That would be great! Katie and Nick will be back from hiking the AT and they can house-sit and watch Peanut." Now, 6 months later…things look a little different than we expected. Mom and I are still heading north, but you two aren't here, so Peanut's off to the farm! My new admin Carleen and husband John have graciously agreed to take Peanut while we're gone. We couldn't be more grateful…but Mom is worried. Tonight she said, "I'm afraid Peanut's going to make John and Carleen's life miserable while we're gone…she's SO neurotic…and it's my fault!" I can't disagree. Mom has coddled that dog to the point of excess…and now…all we have is a Jack Russell who is spoiled beyond ALL compare. Her only saving grace is that she can be SO cute. 

(Katie and Peanut, circa 2010)

I never thought Peanut would live this long. 12 years ago…I thought I would have killed her by now.

I love dogs. I always have. Nana and Papa were from a different generation. Papa grew up on a farm…where dogs lived outside and had a purpose; usually for protection and detection. The first dog I remember was Duchess…Papa's collie that he had as a kid. I remember visiting my Grandpa and Grandma Foote's farm and riding Duchess like a horse. I was probably 3 years old, but I still remember the sweet smell of her fur as I clutched the hair around her neck…as Papa steadied me and Duchess walked around the yard in front of the farmhouse. She was so sweet and gentle and looked exactly like Lassie from TV. 

The next dog I remember was Snoopy. I think Uncle Dave and I whined and complained enough that Nana and Papa let us get Snoopy. He was a little black , long haired mutt. I think he was a cross between a schnauzer and a rat. I was in 2nd grade when we got him and never really established a connection with him. It's hard to bond with a dog when he has to stay outside. It was also hard taking care of Snoopy and he became destructive (digging in the yard) and nipping at everyone. Eventually, Snoopy went to "stay" at Grandpa Foote's farm. Shortly after he left our home we went and visited. I was looking forward to seeing Snoopy again, but when we got to the farm…I was told he ran away. It took a few years before I put the pieces together and realized that "staying at the farm" and he "ran away" were euphemisms for a .22 caliber to the head.

We had Spatz the Cat for a long while. He was a good cat (if there IS such a thing), but he was no dog. Spatz died of old age 2 weeks before I left for college. 

Mom and I foolishly took home a beagle we named "Ed the Pup" when we were about 6 months into our first year of marriage. It was stupid. We both worked and the last thing you can do is keep a puppy cooped up in a 2 bedroom apartment all day while you're off at work. We had Ed for 3 days before he was quickly adopted at the pound. I thought that was it for us and dogs…until Ella.

We got Ella when Katie was about 2 years old. She was the sweetest, most obedient dog--as most yellow labs are. We had Ella for 12 years. Katie never remembers life without a dog…and I've always said, "The hardest things I've ever had to do is drop Ben off at college…and put Ella down." The two of those happened within about a year.

Peanut came into our lives the Christmas of 2002. Katie was in middle school and one night, on the way home from youth group, she said she wanted a puppy for Christmas. I looked over at her in the passenger seat. In the dark driving home…lit only by the streetlights on Bethany Road…Katie looked like a little lady, not a little girl. I knew, soon, she would be too big for puppies and Christmas Wish Lists…so we got her a puppy. We had just watched "My Dog Skip" on video and I thought, "That's a cute dog. I'll look for one of those." I didn't do the research. All I did was find a breeder…buy her…and put a ribbon around her neck on Christmas morning. It was one of our best Christmases ever!

Then we went through Hell.            

Who knew that Jack Russell's are one of the hardest dogs to train; big dogs in tiny, little bodies…pushing their owner/trainers to the brink. About 9 months after Peanut entered our home…I thought for sure I would do her in and bury her in a shallow grave in the backyard. I didn't…and slowly…she won my heart. Now, almost 13 years later…she has been pampered and spoiled to the point where we feel like we can't send her to anyone else…but you two. She loves you two like no other…except for Mom. 

Peanut's old now…and requires a lot more care and attention than she did as a puppy. I know she'll eventually do well at John and Carleen's, but really…she needs to have you back too. Like the rest of us, she misses you. They say that dogs have a 200 word vocabulary…and "Katie" and "Nick" are part of Peanut's. The truth is…Peanut is an "acquired taste" and as she's aged…her circle of friends has grown smaller. It's like the quote from Josh Billings: 

"A puppy plays with every pup he meets, but an old dog has few associates."

Other than Gertie and us…Peanut's friends are few. I've written this before…and I'll keep writing it until you are back in Colorado: Hurry home. There are lots of people…and one funny, pain-in-the-rear doggie who need you home. 

Love,

Dad

Day 168: Patience

I had little, to no, patience today. I'm not sure why.

It was another crazy day, but really, no crazier than any other day. I was scrambling around trying to get everything done that needed to be done before Mom and I headed to Indiana and Ohio. Really, today was no different than any other Thursday. Still, I was frustrated in traffic...impatient in meetings...and in my head, angry. 

I left the office late...in a cloud.

I drove home in silence. I'm still sticking with my "media fast" in my truck as I drive to and from places. I've been enjoying the quiet...and as I already wrote you...I'm hearing God's whisper again. But the inner anger and impatience today blocked any whispers. All I had in my head were waves and waves of turmoil.

I was I could pinpoint what it was. I also wish I had a quick fix or antidote for it. 

I don't. 

And all I can do is try to give it to God, but something in me wants to keep it...to hold on to it...to wallow in it. Something in me wants this anger to last...to fester...and grow. 

I'm glad the Bible tells me God doesn't handle His anger the same way.

"For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning." (Psalm 30:5)

Sorry. That's not very encouraging or insightful tonight...but it's honest. 

Love,

Dad

Day 169: No Writing

Traveling to Indiana...

Day 170: In God's Hands

"It's in God's hands now. We're not going to stress about it. If we finish in time, we finish. If not, we don't...but we're not going to get all stressed about it." (Katie, on the phone, Saturday, September 18, 2015) 

Katie, hearing you on the phone today made my heart ache. Knowing that you two have been pushing yourselves the way you have been; hiking farther than you should have, pushing yourselves to the point of possibly hurting yourselves and then, running out of food...it made me hurt for you.

I know I've written this before, but I want to write it again: this is your hike. I want you to do this for yourselves...for Nick and Katie. Not for Mom and me or Ben and Ali or Em and Micah (Okay...maybe a little for Em and Micah. Kidding.). When you told us the guy in the hostel said you hiked DOUBLE what most people do through that area it made me worry like I haven't worried for you before. So PLEASE take care of yourselves...and don't stress out over finishing before the weather hits Mt. Katahdin. Katie, you said it best, "It's all in God's hands now." That's true, but I want to remind you: It's been in God's hands from the start...it's been in His hands all along.

"But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, 'You are my God.' My times are in your hand..."  (Psalm 31:14-15)

Your time is in God's hand...and that's a safe and peaceful place to stay. Carry that home. It will do you both well the rest of your lives.

Love,

Dad

(Nick and Katie summiting Mt. Washington in New Hampshire)

Day 171: Dominos

"…God designed us to be transformed primarily inside a community. There is no such thing as a personal relationship with God. Although you are a person and can relate WITH God without anyone around, you are NOT designed to grow by yourself."  (Author Hugh Halter, "Flesh")

God continues to surprise me on this journey in ministry through Flatirons.

There have been so many connections to the past that have intertwined here in Columbus, IN. First of all, it starts with Scott Hundley. As I said when I spoke at Community Church of Columbus (where Scott's on staff leading their counseling and community ministries), I've known Scott longer than I've known Mom--by 3 days! Scott became friends with Tom Brunsman during their freshman year at Milligan College. I met Scott the next year in 1979...3 days before I met Mom. 

So...Tom and I were best friends growing up...and he became friends with Scott Hundley at Milligan. Like dominos, one friendship tips and bumps into another...then that domino falls and so on: Me-to-Tom-to-Scott...and back to me. 

Then, 3 days after Scott and I bumped into each other...I met Mom in the lobby at Hart Hall where a few folks had thrown her a birthday party. Victor Hull and I only went because we heard there would be cake. Then, as we stepped into Hart Hall...I saw Mom. I saw how cute she was...and the next thing I knew...I was sitting across from her...eating Oreos from the care package Nana had sent me. We sat and talked and ate Oreos and drank milk. I knew then...I was falling in love.

And another domino fell...

That's the way life is...we're all just dominos tipping...falling into each other...causing a chain reaction of relationship. Being in Columbus, IN only highlighted this. 36 years later, Scott and I are still friends. We're both overseeing he same ministry at our respective churches...and while I was at Community Church of Columbus the dominos represented were:

1) Scott, my friend of over 36 years

2) Mom, my wife of over 34 years...whom I've known for 3 days less than Scott

3) Scott's wife Penny...and Gracie, their funny, engaging daughter

4) Duane Helmick, a kind and gentle man who managed Stony Glen Camp. Stony Glen is literally a mile down the road from where I grew up! I graduated with his daughter Tammy and had NO idea he was a member of Scott's church! Serendipitous! 

5) Tommy Oakes, the campus pastor at East Tennessee State University while I was at Milligan. Tommy is the campus pastor who told the Chronicles of Narnia story about Aslan the Lion (the Christ figure in the series) "un-dragoning" the boy. Jim Burgen was there that Sunday...and God used that story to change his life. That's the story that thrust Jim into a reconnection with Jesus...and thrust him into ministry.

Dominos. One bumping into another, then another...

I know this is happening to you out there on the AT...as it already has in your lives. One of the great blessings of getting older is being able to look back over time and seeing the trails...the paths those dominos have taken. We get the wide angle view and we get to see the patterns our relational domino trails have led. You don't get to see it in process, but it's beautiful in hindsight.

You are down to days now. You are almost done. And this journey you've been on...this trail you have taken...there's no telling where those dominos will lead...what relationships will be effected...and the lives that will be changed or re-charted from having bumped into you two. But it's exciting to think about, isn't it?

"Give careful thought to the paths for your feet and be steadfast in all your ways." (Proverbs 4:26)

Love,

Dad

Day 172: No Writing

Driving to Louisville, KY...

Day 173: Uncle Buzz

I found the envelope as I pulled our suitcases out of the trunk of our rental car. 

We got into Nana and Papa's late in the afternoon and immediately went to meet Uncle Dave and Aunt Sue at their favorite Chinese restaurant in town. As usual, the night was filled with stories and laughter and teasing. We all ended up back at Nana and Papa's for homemade oatmeal cookies and ice cream. I'm going to pay for this trip! I started the day at Uncle Buzz and Jerri's with her homemade bran muffins, then...I HAD to get Skyline Chili for lunch (a 3-way chili and 2 coney dogs...and Tums around rush hour in Columbus, OH). 

It was late by the time Uncle Dave and Aunt Sue headed for home. Dave helped me pull the suitcases out of the trunk. That's when I saw the envelope. It was sealed. There was nothing written on the front. I opened it and read the folded note inside. It read:

"Bring the Hikers Home Fund"

Enclosed with the note were 2 crisp $100 bills. Uncle Buzz had slipped it under my suitcase as we packed up to leave Louisville in the morning. 

I've always said, "He's the nice one." Uncle Buzz is the most kind and caring of the four of us, your uncles and me. He's always been that way. As the youngest of the four Foote brothers, Buzz/Darren had to endure the jockeying and jostling for attention that comes from a busy household with 3 older brothers. He had to patiently endure the backseat in life...until one-by-one...each of us moved out and moved on. It left him with a thoughtful, caring spirit...a deep well of understanding...and an almost immeasurable gift of patience. He always seems to be looking out for others.

And he's looking out for you. He's given you $200 to help work out a plan to get you home. I know you're not going to push things and stress yourselves out...but can we try and target your "re-entry"?

Uncle Buzz wants to help you land safely.

"...do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others." (Philippians 2:4)

Love,

Dad

Day 174: Memory Lane

"By wisdom a house is built, And by understanding it is established; And by knowledge the rooms are filled with all precious and pleasant riches."  (Proverbs 24:3-4)

Our tour started by driving south to Chardon. There were a lot of houses on our list. It began with:

1) Tilden Ave. Chardon, OH

This is where a slate-grey 2-story house surrounded by 100 year old Maple trees is located. Mom and I first moved in there in 1981 after we got married. During our first year of marriage we lived in the upstairs apartment. We were newlyweds. The rent was $220.00 a month and the 2 bedroom place looked and felt like you were living in a tree fort. 

(117 Tilden Ave., Chardon, Ohio)

The next year we moved downstairs to the 2 bedroom apartment below (because it had a basement and we could get a washer and dryer). This is where Ben was conceived and born. Mom and I loved that place on Tilden Ave., but it was very cramped. 

Nana and Papa stepped in and helped us by purchasing a house on...

2) Chapel Rd. Madison, OH

This is where we lived for 2 years before moving to New Jersey. We rented it from Nana and Papa. Ben was a one year old when we moved in...and a little over two when we packed up and said goodbye to Ohio...and hello to New Jersey. I had a hard time living in the Madison house, I don't know why. Maybe it was because we were renting from my parents and I didn't feel like Mom and I were completely on our own...maybe it was because the house was in my hometown...or maybe it was simply a restless spirit that God used to move us where He wanted us to go: New Jersey to Texas to Colorado.  

Next stop on our list of Madison homes was...

3) Montrose Ave.

My first memories are in this house. It's the home we lived in when I was born in 1960. It's the home we lived in when Uncle Doug was born on November 23, 1963...the day after John F. Kennedy was assassinated in Dallas, TX. 

One of my earliest memories was the day they brought Doug home from the hospital. It was a dark day for me, not because of JFK's murder, but because I lost my position as baby in the family. I remember watching Kennedy's flag-draped caisson moving through the streets of DC on our black and white TV...as my parents and grandparents passed this newborn, little interloper around--cooing and "ooo-ing" at him the whole time. It was the first time I felt hatred. 

I came to love him...eventually...but not that day. That day...I was mourning with the rest of America...but for other, more selfish, reasons.

Nana, Papa and Mom and I continued to drive around Madison...driving past as many of my former family homes as we could before meeting Uncle Dave, Aunt Sue and the rest of their clan for dinner. 

We went past the house on Whitewood Dr. where we lived when I was in 5th grade. It will forever be the place I learned that my Grandma Foote was killed in a car wreck. 

We drove past the house on Shore Dr. where Uncle Buzz was born...and the house on Trinity Rd.--the place we rented while we built the home where Nana and Papa live today. We didn't get to them all. I still wanted to see the house on Town Line Rd. and our home on Atwater Dr. 

Today was a trip down Memory Lane. Some of those memories are good and some bad. My heart and head were tossed back and forth by them both. I know that right now...the home you live in is being carried on Nick's back. But someday...you will do the same thing we did today; you will re-trace where you once lived a portion of life. I know that will include a visit to Texas to reclaim memories. I also know you will need to revisit parts of the Appalachian Trail too. 

I see another grand hike in your very distant future.

Love,

Dad

Day 175: Joy to the World

Okay. Brace yourselves and don't be jealous: We drove into Cleveland today and went to The Christmas Story house! 

(The Christmas Story house, Cleveland, Ohio)

Yes! THE house! The house where Ralphie and Randy, The Old Man, and Scut Farkus all came to life with classic holiday film lines like, "You'll shoot yer eye out"..."Sons a'b#%&@n' Bumpus hounds!" and "I triple-dog dare you!" It was everything I wished it would be! Someday, you two need to visit. It's worth every penny of the $10 admission.

All the exterior house shots from the movie...and a handful of interior shots...were filmed at this house in Cleveland. The rest of that wonderful Christmas gem was filmed in Toronto, Canada. The house in Cleveland is a museum to the film and has been completely restored to it's original 1983 glory. Our tour guide informed us that the owner of the museum also gutted the interior of the house and painstakingly recreated the inside to match the movie sets filmed in Canada. It was amazing! It was like we were in the film...you could almost smell the boiled cabbage from the kitchen. 

Our tour guide, Frank, encouraged us to have as much fun as we could on the tour. He said we could take as many pictures as we wanted...climb under the sink like Randy does when he thinks The Old Man is going to kill Ralphie (Mom did!)...and put on the stocking caps, elf hats and "pink nightmare" bunny costume (I did!) Frank also told us we could fondle the infamous "major award" (the racy leg lamp) in the front window, too. 

(The "major award"…)

It was a blast! The only thing missing was you two. 

Katie, I never thought anyone could love Christmas movies more than me, but you take the cake! And The Christmas Story is one of our favorites. It's been on our yearly list of must-see Christmas movies for at least 20 years. 

As we walked around the back of the house...where Ralphie almost "shoots his eye out" at the end of the movie...I got a twinge of the Christmas spirit. The temperature had nothing to do with it. It was almost 80 degrees. It was the realization that you two will be home in about 15-20 days. After being separated for months and months...15 days is nothing! And soon (in fewer days than it's been since I saw you in Virginia back in June) we will be sitting in our living room...eating and drinking something festive...and relishing the adventures of the Parker family from The Christmas Story once again! Just one of the many, many reasons to be thankful this year. 

Joy to the world! 

"And the angel said unto them, 'Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all the people'..." (Luke 2:10)

Love,

Dad

Day 176: The Glue of Imperfection 

"We don't think of our flaws as the glue that binds us to the people we love, but they are. Grace only sticks to our imperfections. Those who can't accept their imperfections can't accept grace either."  -- Donald Miller from Scary Close

It's been a good week. There have been some hard parts, but mostly...it's been good. 

It's been 3 years since I've been back in Nana and Papa's home. Like Nana and Papa themselves, the place is the same...only older and a little weathered. The good parts of the week have been all the long conversations...the laughter...the food and the slow pace of life here. Mom and I really needed this. We needed to slow down. 

(Papa and me on the square in Chardon, Ohio)

I needed to mend some fences. I needed to spend some time with Nana and Papa and really show them I love them. I know that they know I love them...but I really needed to show them. Their "love language" is obviously quality time and Mom and I haven't been able to spend much time with them over the last couple of years...especially time in Ohio with them. So that's about all we've done since arriving Tuesday: Quality time. And it's been good. I need to do the same with you. I need quality time with you two too. I need the length and breadth of time with you.

The hard parts from this week have been mostly self-imposed. Being back home always dredges up old ghosts and memories of where a lot of my wounds and scars first originated. If I let them...the ghosts will scare off any chance of real healing. They haunt me from the dark corners of my memory banks; reminding me of mistakes long past and...urging me to be graceless about imperfections...not only my own, but the imperfections of others, too.

Mom started reading Donald Miller's book Scary Close out loud as drove on Monday. The quote above was VERY convicting. It stuck with me all day Monday.

It hasn't left me. 

That conviction was really digging into to me today. I need grace...and I need to give it. My biggest problem is that I show the least amount of grace to the ones I am closest to...starting with myself...and moving out in concentric circles. Mom has experienced this the most. I hate the fact that even though I know I am DEEPLY flawed...I won't give myself grace...and I'm SO quick-on-the-draw to point out the flaws of everyone else. I'm really, really trying to do better while I'm here in Ohio. Who knows when I'll be back and when (or if) I'll be able to see everyone here again? 

Family; we are stuck with each other...

We are bound by our flaws...

We are glued together by our imperfections and I really want to lead out with grace.

More importantly, though...this time...I really NEED to leave with grace.

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Love,

Dad

Day 177: Sunset

The sun sets too quickly.

Mom and I are already headed home to Colorado. I'm writing this from the plane...watching the sun set in the west. It's an amazingly beautiful metaphor; the sun...like our time in Indiana, Kentucky and Ohio...is over too quickly. 

I'm guessing that mankind has probably always likened life to the seasons and the daily cycle; sunrise-to-morning-to-noon-to-dusk-to-dark. All of it...over too quickly.

Watching the sun set...in its brilliant array of reds, oranges, pinks and blues...only emphasizes what I've been feeling all day. I've been thinking about (and probably obsessing about) the passage of time. It always happens when I go back to Ohio. Every corner of Nana and Papa's house...every road in Madison...and every landscape is filled with memories. And the memories (like my reading glasses) only bring the reality of time's passing into better view. 

Nana and Papa are at the twilight of their lives. They wear their age in a more profound way than they did the last time we were together. Being at their home this week brought back memories of the noonday and afternoon of their lives. We lived those days together in-and-around the town they still live. Driving by the various houses we lived at in Madison...and the schools I attended...and the places I worked...made me think of Nana and Papa during those times from our past. Their bodies were stronger...their eyes clearer...and their hair more youthful. 

But it's twilight now for Nana and Papa and...like the sun setting out my window...it's beautifully sad. The sun sets too quickly. 

The truth is...I can see dusk on my horizon. Standing in the bathroom getting ready this morning I looked in the mirror. It's the same mirror from my childhood, growing up there. I've stood in front of that mirror over the last 40+ years. Through puberty...and high school...and college...and right up until today. From morning to noon to afternoon...and now...I can see dusk. 

Dusk is on the horizon. It's beautiful...colored with a palette of a life well-lived with Mom...with you two, and Ben and Ali, and Emery and Micah; children and grandchildren I love and love to spend time with. 

Still, I can't help it. As happy and as blessed as I feel...I'm sad. It all goes by too quickly. You guys, and Ben and Ali, are in the late morning...and almost high noon...of your lives. And soon, you'll be looking and feeling the same way about Mom and I as I do about Nana and Papa. 

Enjoy the day.

"This is the day The Lord has made; We will rejoice and be glad in it." (Psalm 118:24)

Love,

Dad

Day 178: Heart Change  

"…'God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Messiah.' When the people heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and the other apostles, 'Brothers, what shall we do?' Peter replied, 'Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.'"  (Acts 2:36-39)

I love Baptism Weekend at Flatirons. 

I wasn't able to help with the baptisms last night, but was able to be there for both services today. It was an amazing time of laughter, tears and celebration. I was at one of the tubs with my new admin Carleen Burch…and stood to the side as Carleen and her daughter Savannah baptized Hunter, Savannah's son and Carleen's grandson. It was very moving and reminded me of the Sunday Nick was baptized at Flatirons. Having Katie and Ben there that Sunday at the tub made baptizing Nick even more special. 

I will be forever grateful that I had the privilege of baptizing my kids: Ben, Katie and Nick (Ali was baptized by Jim…which is as it should be). It's a major step…a major event…when someone makes that decision to turn their life over to Jesus. There were multiple times this morning where I looked someone in the eyes and asked them, "Do you believe that Jesus is your Lord and Savior?" The responses varied. Some were joyous yeses…and some were tearful, grateful affirmations…some almost too filled with emotion to hear. 

It's not like it's magic water. It's an inflatable pool filled from a garden hose. But the transformation we see as people come out of the water makes you wonder. That's what a major heart change does; it transforms you…inside and out. That's what happens when Jesus is allowed into someone's heart. It does drastic things. Some you get to see from the outside like, the soaking wet smiles and celebrations at the tubs. Or the vices left behind…the drinking, the drugs, the sexual sin cast off in the water. 

Some of the other changes that occur are a little harder to see…but no less significant. I have a feeling it'll be the same with you two when you return. I'm sure we'll see a lot of the exterior changes immediately (i.e., healthy complexions, toned bodies, etc.). The other changes…are probably going to be the kind of changes that will take years to see the results, maybe even a lifetime. 

I sure hope I'm there for that too.    

Love,

Dad

The Latest to Katie and Nick...

Day 143: Eternity Into The Heart 

Katie, you hopped on a plane Thursday morning and flew to Texas while Nick stayed on course and kept hiking. Friday was Ashley's wedding rehearsal and Saturday was the wedding. Nick, you continued on the trail. Then, Katie, you had the reception and then back to Sarah (Ryan) Gate's place. Now, you're back in Connecticut with Nick--who continued on hiking, but (Thanks to another Trail Angel) was able to come to the airport and pick you up.

That's a lot to squeeze into 4 days. Katie, I know you talked to Mom and Mom relayed to me that you were exhausted from the trip to Texas. She also told me you were in tears when you talked. Actually, Mom said you were sobbing. You were crying about our little Emery sleeping in her big girl bed last night. You and Ali need to talk. Ali said she's having a hard time with it too. 

Ben. Not so much. 

We had them all over for a little cookout tonight and Ben said, "I'm excited about Em sleeping in the bunk bed. It means laying in bed reading to her and telling her bedtime stories next to her." That helped me. It got me excited about that too. 

It's true, you can't do all that stuff in a crib. There's too many barriers with a crib. A crib even resembles a little jail. But the bunk bed, it's like an open invitation to make bedtime more fun. Katie, I know that your biggest concern with taking 5 months off to hike the Appalachian Trail was that Emery and Micah would grow up too much while you were gone…and hearing (and seeing) Em in that bed only made your fears a reality. But don't let it get you down. Let it be a motivator…let it drive you to hike stronger and faster…getting you both to Mt. Katahdin sooner.     

Yes. Time is passing. 

Yes. Em and Micah Man have grown, but really…that's a beautiful thing. 

Yes. I will forever miss the days when my kids were little, but I wouldn't change it! I love having grown kids now. Kids who have brought others into my life that I love. If somehow…through some miracle…I could have halted time and kept Ben and Katie frozen in time as little kids…I would never have Ali and Nick in my life…or Em and Micah. The passage of time is part of God's plan…and it's beautiful. Solomon puts it this way in Ecclesiastes 3:11...

"He (God) has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end." 

That whole thing about God putting "eternity into man's heart" is a puzzler, but here's what I think it means: 

When my time passes here on earth and I die…God has already set my heart to experience and take in ALL that heaven has in store for me. It's too great for here, on earth, but we're all set for when we die. And you can feel that, can't you? Even the greatest and best things that this world has to offer are fleeting. They never "fill our tanks to full". They always leave us wanting more…and that's because God has "put eternity into man's heart".

And even all these things we love…like spouses and kids and grandkids…and all these amazing experiences we have…like hiking the AT…and all the trail magic…all of these point us back to the truth: All of this is amazing…and fleeting…and meant to be a taste for what's ahead…because of what God has done. He has…

"…put eternity into man's heart."

Love,

Dad

Day 144: Uncle Joe 

I had to make a really tough decision. It was a "long train coming", but it needed to happen. It all revolves around the fact that I have systematically loaded up my schedule to the point where I am dealing with exhaustion, burnout and overload. The guys are really worried about me, so I was "encouraged" by Scott Nickell and Jim to do something about it. Scott told me I needed to unload some stuff from my insane schedule. Jim was even more direct. He said that something needed to give…before one of my arteries or blood vessels did.

So I'm stepping off the men's team to Afghanistan.

I'm sorry I'm not going to be able to go, but deep down…I'm relieved. I already feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I'm also very, very grateful to work in a place where my leaders take care of me so well…who recognize (when I can't even recognize myself) when things are out of whack…and need to be re-prioritized. 

To handle this well I needed to have two conversations; one with Missions Pastor Ron Barnes and the other with good friend and co-leader Bob Tunnell. Again, I'm so grateful to have people in my life who deal with me with such grace and mercy. Both Ron and Bob were COMPLETELY understanding and encouraging of my situation. I talked with Ron at the office before I left and ended up talking with Bob through dinner. And it was a great dinner. The conversation, not necessarily the food. The food was Chipotle. It was good, but it was the conversation that was great. We ended up spending two hours on the outside patio discussing life…and burnout…and mistakes we've made…and God's goodness in the midst of all that. I've got several stories I want to share with you two from tonight, but it's late, so I'll leave you with this one:

As Bob and I were nearing the end of our time at Chipotle, he brought up the smartest person he's ever known. It's his wife Patty's Uncle Joe. Bob said that Uncle Joe died a couple of years ago. He said that Uncle Joe worked for Hughes Aircraft Company--in their Space and Communications Group. I guess Uncle Joe was the man who figured out how to use FM radio waves to communicate to the moon and back. Before Uncle Joe, the brightest minds in the world hadn't been able to figure out how to communicate with anything beyond earth's atmosphere. That's how smart Uncle Joe was. Bob said that at Uncle Bob's funeral, several of the scientists he worked with stood up and told stories of how…they always gave Uncle Joe the hardest problems to solve because…not only was he the smartest…he believed in God…and it didn't tear him up when he came across a problem he couldn't solve. Bob told me all these scientists (most of whom were atheists or agnostics) all said the same thing at the funeral; that Bob would tell them, "That's okay if I can't figure this out. God knows the answer…and maybe some day…He'll show me." Isn't that good? And from one of the greatest minds that has walked this planet. 

I'll keep that one. 

There's a lot of stuff I can't figure out. Right now…it's how to balance a job (and calling) that I love…and the other things God has given me, like Mom, and my kids and grandkids, my best friends, and so on. There's also all those big questions in life…and doubts…and uncertainties. I'm going to try and put those where Uncle Joe did…where they belong: In God's Hands…and maybe some day…He'll show me.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts."  (Isaiah 55:8-9)

Love,

Dad

Day 145: Thirty Four More Days 

Multiple People Today: "How are Katie and Nick doing? Where are they now?"

Me: "They're doing great. I think they're still in Connecticut, but they should be close to crossing over into Massachusetts." 

One of those people who asked about you today was my brother Darren…or Uncle Buzz, to you. I spoke with him on the way home tonight. He informed me that he burned his Facebook profile, so he hasn't been able to keep up on your progress. 

Buzz was just one of a handful of people who asked me today how you were doing. I missed Katie's phone call to Mom last night because I was at a meeting, but she told me Katie was a little down in the dumps. Mom said that Katie's ready to come home and wants the whole hike to be over. She also told me that…if you stay on track…you'll be done in 34 days.

I immediately pulled the calendar up on my iPad and looked. September 27th. That's 34 days from yesterday. When I looked at it on the screen…it looked SO close. 

34 days. That's all. 

I mean, you started this big adventure almost 150 days ago. 

I flew out to meet up with you two in Virginia on June 20th. That was 66 days ago…almost twice as many days as you have left. 

This reminds me of what happens when you run a race. 

I remember the first time I did a sprint triathlon. Steve Duncan and I trained and did the Tom Landry Triathlon back in…like 2003. The distance was: 400 meter swim (8 pool lengths), a 13.5 mile bike ride and a 5K run. When I started that race, I couldn't even think about what was ahead. 

The swimming part came easy. I seemed to be in and out of the pool in no time. Then came the bike portion. It seemed endless. Other racers passed me like I was standing still…and the hills on the east side of Dallas felt like the Himalayas to me. I had to go to my happy place and not think about what I was doing. 

After what seemed like an eternity…I hopped off my bike…put on my running shoes and began to run the 5K. At first, my calves felt like cinder blocks…weighted down by all the blood rushing into them. But slowly, I got into a groove. 

All I could think about was, "Three and a half miles to go." 

And then it was, "Two and a half miles to go." 

Then, before I knew it…I entered the half mile track at the Tom Landry Center for the last leg of the run. 

People were cheering…music was playing…my heart started racing…and I picked up my pace. All of a sudden, I had renewed energy. I felt like I was flying! I wasn't thinking about how long it had been since I started…or the agony of the bike portion…or even my heavy legs at the start of the run…all I could think about was the finish line…and completing. I knew I wasn't going to win any prizes...but starting and finishing was prize enough!

I hope and pray that that's where you are with this hike. All you have is 34 days left. 

Can you hear all of us cheering you on back here? 

Is your heart racing with excitement?

Is there triumphant music playing in your head? 

Can you sense the finish line at Mt. Katahdin coming closer and closer? 

You're SO close! Before you know it…September 27th will be here…and you two will have completed something very, very few people get to do in life…and that's a prize enough in itself!      

"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize."  (1 Corinthians 9:24)

Hang in there. The end is near. 

Love,

Dad

Day 146: Dalton, Massachusetts 

Here's a little trivia for you: Dalton, Massachusetts is the home of Crane & Co. -- a stationery manufacturer and the largest employer in town. Crane & Co. also happens to be the ONLY supplier of paper for the Federal Reserve Note, the United States paper money.

I looked up Dalton, MA when I got Katie's text telling us...

"I forgot to tell you guys that we are in Massachusetts! We got here the day after I got back. We are coming up on Dalton tomorrow."

I'd never heard of Dalton, so after learning it's the town that makes the paper where we get our money…I thought that was pretty cool! All those crinkled dollar bills to the crisp twenties and fifties to the even crisper hundred dollar bill. All of those "dead presidents"(and Ben Franklin too) printed on paper that gets milled in Dalton, MA.   

Money. It's hard to live with it…and really, really hard to live without it. Some people say it's evil. Lots of folks say that Jesus said, "Money is the root (source) of all evil." Jesus didn't say that. Jesus said lots and lots of stuff about money, but not that it's the root of ALL evil. The Apostle Paul wrote something close…except for the addition of one, very important word. Paul wrote to Timothy…

"For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil."  (1 Timothy 6:10)

Not all evil, but all KINDS of evil. And that's just true. Almost every vice and sin in the world revolves around money; what people will do to get more (lie, cheat on their taxes, sell themselves) and what others will do to act like it doesn't matter (lie, covet, judge). All KINDS of evil!

So as you hike through Dalton, MA tomorrow, think about all the paper that's been made their since 1844…and all the good and bad that's been done with all that paper once the Federal Reserve prints some numbers and pictures on it. You both have experienced so much good along the AT in the form of that printed paper…and you've REALLY experienced the need for it as you've funded this big adventure. Soon, you'll be back here in Colorado and you're going to have to step back into society…you're going to have to get jobs again…and you're going to need some of that printed paper that originated in Dalton, MA. And here's one thing I can almost guarantee: you'll never handle another piece of U.S. currency without thinking about this summer and when you hiked through Dalton, MA.  

  

You're welcome.

Love,

Dad

Day 147: Seasons  

Katie and I got to talk on the phone for awhile this morning, so I'll make this note brief. 

Mom is gathering up the clothes you asked for and we'll get them shipped out ASAP. Bennington, Vermont. Wow! When Katie told me this morning that you were going to be in Vermont in a few days, I was taken aback! I told a few of the folks in the office this and it got the same reaction: Wow! 

So, in a few days you will have walked from Georgia to North Carolina to Tennessee to Virginia to West Virginia to Maryland to Pennsylvania to New Jersey to New York to Connecticut to Massachusetts to Vermont…11 states down…2 to go. As of today, when you walked into Dalton, MA, you've hiked close to 1,600 miles. It's 1,558 from Springer Mountain, GA to Dalton, MA, but when you include all the walking into all the towns you've been in and out of…that's close to 1,600 miles. You've hiked from the beginning of spring thru summer…and now…you feel fall coming on. 

This makes me happy. I'm happy because I know you'll be home by Colorado fall. 

Fall has always been my favorite time of the year. I love the crisp, cool air, the colors in the trees, and the smells that only come in the fall. And you both know how much I love Halloween! Fall always brings good things…and this year…it's bringing us you two.

We can't wait! 

"He (God) changes times and seasons; he deposes kings and raises up others. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the discerning."  (Daniel 2:21)

Love,

Dad

Day 148: Moby Dick   

Katie, whenever you call, we end up talking about so much stuff that it sort of wrings out all the thoughts that I normally write to you two each night. We talked this morning after you summited Mt. Greylock in the Berkshires of Massachusetts--and you learned that you only have 589 miles left to go. When I was trying to fill Mom in on all that Katie told me, I brain farted and couldn't remember the name of the mountain. So, I got on the www.summitpost.org website that I have bookmarked and looked it up. I know I wrote you about this website. It's got this very, very long table with all the stops and shelters and hostels along the Appalachian Trail. It's been great for following your progress. Anyway, when I got online and saw that it was Mt. Greylock, I also hit the hyperlink to that stop. Once again, I've got some more AT trivia! Here's what the website says about Mt. Greylock:

"It (Mt. Greylock) is so inspirational that legend has it, Mt. Greylock's long, saddle-like shape inspired Herman Melville to write 'Moby Dick'. He was known to have great fondness for the mountain, even setting up a special observation deck at his home (near Pittsfield) so he could view Greylock whenever he desired."

  

You summited the mountain that inspired "Moby Dick"…and I couldn't help but think about some of the similarities. I love the book Moby Dick (the story parts…I can live without all the whaling minutiae). I love the themes of; when does passion and destiny overtake you and become obsession? That was Captain Ahab's story in Moby Dick--a story that he sucked the rest of the crew of the Pequod into. I'm not saying that you two are obsessed with this whale-of-a-hike, but you ARE passionate about it…and (I believe) you feel a little destined to make this journey. I just think it's neat to hear that you hiked up the mountain that inspired Moby Dick…with similar aspects of that novel; dealing with the elements…forcing yourselves forward…not giving up when you want to turn back…and attacking each mountain like Ahab went after that great, white whale. That's where I'll stop with the parallels between you guys and Ahab. If you haven't read the book…let's just say it doesn't end well for Ol' Ahab. Moby Dick gets the best of him.

But I know this trail won't get the best of you.

"For nothing is impossible with God…"  (Luke 1:37)

Love,

Dad

Day 149: Friends   

"I guess what I'm saying is…this is what happens. Good friends just sort of drift apart…and that's okay." -- Sean Graham

We saw the Grahams tonight. Scott, Donna and Evan flew up from Texas to visit Sean, so we went out with all of them--and with Ben, Ali and the kids. I think it was sensory overload for Micah. We went to that pizzeria in Louisville, Lucky Pie…on a very nice Saturday night…with about 200 of our closest friends. It was nuts there! And remember, Lucky Pie is right next door to the ice cream parlor, Sweet Cow, so it was pandemonium. Poor Micah. He really wasn't happy until I took him off the patio and sat in the Astroturfed area in front of the restaurant--away from all the noise. As we ate dinner though, Ben, Ali, Sean and Evan sat at one end of the table while Mom and I sat and talked with Scott and Donna. It was another reminder of how much time has gone by. Five years. We haven't seen the Grahams (Scott, Donna and Evan) in the five years since we left Texas. And even though Sean lives in Denver, we don't see much of him either. 

It made me sad. Especially when I overheard him say to Ben, "I guess what I'm saying is…this is what happens. Good friends just sort of drift apart…and that's okay." 

The hard part is this: that's just true. Proximity has a lot to do with friendships. The farther you live from your friends…the harder it is to stay current and connected. I mean, Ben and Sean were inseparable back in Texas…especially the 2 years in-between the end of high school and when Ben went off to Milligan College. They went to Europe together…and Sean was in Ben and Ali's wedding! It's sort of the same for you two and Evan. For a while there, back when you were in high school…you two and Evan were always together too. 

And life took over…and we moved up here to Colorado…and you guys all got married…and our lives all went separate ways. It's good…and everyone understands…but I still felt sad when Sean said that about friends who drift apart. I love Scott and Donna Graham, but we really didn't run in the same circles with them back in Texas. They were Sean and Evan's parents…and our main connection with them was through Sean and Evan…their kids. 

Friendship is fragile. It needs to be nurtured. I have a lot of friends that I think about, but that I've drifted from. But then, I immediately think of Tom Brunsman. I've known Tom longer than any friend I have. And even though we live 1,200 miles apart…and don't talk on the phone as often as we used to…I take comfort in knowing that he's always there. He's one friend where proximity doesn't matter. We were buddies in church…and all the way through grade school and into college. I went to Milligan because Tom Brunsman went there first. We stood with each other at our weddings…and I know that when the time comes…he'll be at my funeral…or vice versa. 

I need to call him tomorrow. 

As you two hike your way into Vermont, I'm also comforted by the fact that you both were great friends…long before you fell in love. You have the special blessing of having known each other since middle school…and grown up together…and are growing together through this experience. What are friends for?

"My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command."  (John 15:12-14)

Love,

Dad

Day 150:    

"We got into Vermont yesterday and we saw a moose!!!!!!! I cried! It was so amazing. One of my favorite 'God is awesome' moments."  -- Katie

I won't lie. I'm jealous.

When Katie sent the text and the picture of the moose you saw in Vermont...I had a small dose of envy. It also immediately reminded me of a conversation I had this morning in the lobby at church with Patrick--our veterinarian. 

I don't know if you remember, but Patrick grew up in Uganda and he's the one who almost lost a hand trying to work on Peanut's teeth. Peanut's SUCH a lousy patient. Anyway, Patrick came up to me in the lobby and asked me how you two were doing out there on the AT. He's been following your journey on my men's blog. As I told him where you were, and how you were doing, he smiled broadly and said, "That is such a blessing; what they are doing. They are doing something few get to experience." 

How true that is. And then, an hour later...your text and picture about the moose came through saying, "One of my favorite 'God is awesome' moments." Such a blessing. I know this is really hard to do, but try and really remember this. Try to etch this in your heart and mind because you know there are days (and weeks...and maybe years) ahead where you just won't feel that anymore...and where you'll long to have that day again; the day God gave you the moose. Enjoy this feeling because God never promises that He'll make us happy...and all warm inside...all the time. God never promises to make us FEEL happy. An author I like, Larry Crabb, puts it this way: 

“The problem sincere Christians have with God often comes down to a wrong understanding of what this life is meant to provide.” 

Life is never meant to provide happiness. Only God can do that. As a matter of fact, all life can do is frustrate us (I think). Life here is only a glimpse...a taste...of what is to come. Not that it can't be good...not that it can't be inspiring. It can, but only for a brief moment...leaving us wanting more. And God uses all kinds of stuff to do that...and some of us (the blessed ones) get a moose wading in a bog in Vermont.

Cherish this blessing.

"May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed."  (Psalm 20:4)

Love,

Dad

p.s. I shipped your package out yesterday, so you've got warm clothes when you land in Manchester Center in a couple of days. 

Day 151: First Rule of Camping   

“We had to take off half a year of working, and not a lot of people can do that,” Karl Berger, a 24-year-old Maine resident known on the trail as GQ, said from a camp site in Baxter, where he was resting with his father behind finishing the hike up Katahdin. “I don’t think a lot of hikers acknowledge that it’s a privilege to be out here.” (Appalachian Trail Partying Angers Longtime Hikers - Time Magazine, August 2015)

Mom showed me the article from Time Magazine about the problems people are having out there on the AT this year with the partiers on the trail, but the paragraph above is what stood out to me the most. You both are in the same boat as Karl Berger, who gave the quote. Not a lot of people can take off half a year and do what you're doing….and it IS a privilege! 

I know you both know what a privilege this adventure is, but it's good to know that there are others out there who know this too. Not everyone is a selfish, entitled snot who thinks they're the center of the universe. From what you've shared with us, it sounds like you've experienced just about all that the AT has to offer; the dedicated and the lazy…the kind and gentle and the brazen bullies…the partiers and the sober-minded…the trail angels and the demons…the wise and the foolish. They're all out there, but for some reason, this year most agree that the "good" is out-weighing the "bad". 

I don't want to go too far down this rabbit hole, but I think the Appalachian Trail this year is probably indicative of American society as a whole. We live in a very self-absorbed time. The "ask not what your country can do for you" mindset seems to have been erased by a much more selfish approach…littered with selfies and tweets…where technology allows us to take that broken part of us…the part that lusts for attention…and lets us inflate our egos and self-importance to dangerous levels. And then we wonder why people are rude in traffic or selfishly destructive on the AT. I don't know, if all that we do every day is pamper and promote ourselves…what else can we expect.  

Okay. I'm done…for the time being. The truth is…as you both have experienced over and over and over again…not everyone is a d-bag out there on the trail…nor in every town and city across the country. There has been…and always will be (until Jesus fixes everything) a battle between good and bad. Paul put it this way in Ephesians 6:12:

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms."

Jim put it this way in one of his recent messages. He said something like, "This is something we can agree on; no matter what you believe…things are broken…and they're getting worse." The thing is…if we all just took the First Rule of Camping…it would go a long way in fixing some of the mess. I learned this when I had my brief swim through Boy Scouts in 6th grade. The first rule of camping is: Leave the campsite better than you found it. And that works in every situation, doesn't it? Leave the workplace better than you found it…Leave your friendships better…Leave your neighborhood…and your family…and on and on. It goes without saying…when we look to others first…and when we're careful what we leave in our wake…the world just gets better.   

And so does the Appalachian Trail. 

Love,

Dad

Day 152: Media Fast    

"If only you would be altogether silent! For you, that would be wisdom."  (Job 13:5)

So there's a group of us at the office that have agreed to do a media fast. No media for a week. That means no newspapers, magazines, TV, movies, radio, CDs, MP3s, podcasts, Facebook, Twitter…and so on. We started this morning. 

I already blew it. 

I got in my truck after a meeting and immediately turned the radio on. I was half a minute into some classic rock song (I think it was "Come Sail Away" by Styx) when I thought to myself, "I hate that song. Why am I listening to it?" And as I reached to change the station I jumped in shock and said, "WHY AM I LISTENING TO THIS?!" I clicked the radio off and drove to my meeting in shame. I didn't even last 8 hours on this fast! I've done well the rest of the evening, but I'll admit: it's been difficult. 

I'm already amazed at how conditioned I am to fill the silence around me with noise--whether it's the radio or TV. It's almost like a reflex…and not a good one. As a matter of fact, I normally have music playing on my computer when I write you two each evening…and it feels weirdly quiet as I type--the only sounds I can hear being the dryer downstairs, Mom in the bathroom and the clickety-click of the keyboard. I'm ashamed to say that the silence makes me uncomfortable. 

And then I think of you two…out there on the trail since April 2nd…hiking through the solitude of the woods for exactly 5 months tomorrow. I know that you each have your phones with music downloaded on them…and that you listen to it regularly as you hike, but you're WAY beyond the cold turkey I'm experiencing right now. I really wonder how strange it's going to be for you guys when you re-insert yourselves back into society…and all the noise that accompanies it. I know it's going to be strange at first because I've experienced it multitudes of times. I remember coming off the 2 week hike Ben and I did back in 2006, feeling almost violated by the bombardment of media in Uncle Doug's house when we got back to Atlanta…and all they had on was the TV. There's beauty in silence. I know that silence (while uncomfortable at first) becomes healing and restorative after a time…if I can only stick with it.

The biggest blessing about silence…which you both know all too well…is that it's SO MUCH easier to hear God in it. I know I've already written this to you, but I'll write it again (as much for me as for you): God tends to speak the loudest in our silence. And that's what I'm really longing for…I want to hear God more…I NEED to hear God more, yet most of time…I litter the fertile ground of silence with the garbage of media. I know this, but why do I keep doing it? One of the things I'm most envious of you two as you hike from Georgia to Maine is the solitude and silence you've been experiencing…for months on end! 

I say I want that…but do I really?  

I've got a week to find out.

Love,

Dad

Day 153: Stars Hollow    

"I'm in love with Vermont. We are in Manchester Center and it looks like Stars Hollow."  -- Katie

Sorry. It's been a crazy, busy day and I'm getting home late…and just sitting down to write you both. I got Katie's text and picture from Vermont this afternoon and didn't get a chance to text back. All I will say is, "Nick. I'm sorry. I knew this was going to happen. I knew that when Katie eventually made it to New England…all she would talk about was Gilmore Girls and Stars Hollow. I hope you were prepared. Did she have you walking through town looking for Lorelei, Sookie and Luke? I feel for you, man.   

All I really need to know is: Did you get your package of clothes we shipped to Manchester Center? I hope you did. I'm guessing it's getting very cold up there by now. And if you did…then this Bible verse from James puts Mom and me in the right:

"Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, 'Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,' but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?"  (James2:15-16)

If you didn't get your clothes…sorry. They're on their way. Maybe someone in Stars Hollow has some hot chocolate and an extra jacket or two you can borrow.  :)

Love,

Dad

Day 154: No Writing

Day 155: Being a Man     

"We climbed up a ski slope this Morning! Also, 2 days ago we climbed Stratton Mountain which is the mountain that inspired Benton Mackaye to create the AT! It was amazing."  -- Katie

I missed another email last night, no excuses, other than it was a very late night. We had the entire Community Team (and spouses) over to our house for a cookout. It was a blast! We have a great team…and our team's spouses our equally great! Still, by the time the last couple was out the door, and Mom and I cleaned up, I crashed into bed without writing. But it wasn't like I wasn't thinking about you. After getting Katie's text and picture of Nick on top of the ski mountain, I couldn't quit thinking about you…and thinking about Nick's beard! Massive! You need to know…after seeing Nick's beard from your New York City pictures…I was inspired to quit trimming my beard…and let it grow! And by the time you get home…Nick and I will be bookends: Young Big Beard and Old Big Beard. 

It's funny…I always wanted a beard. Growing up I thought beards were great…even in elementary school. I remember Papa went on a fishing trip and came home with a week's worth of facial growth…and immediately shaved it off. I was bummed. I couldn't wait to grow up…and be a man…and grow a beard. As I rolled into 8th grade…I had SERIOUS doubts--doubts about growing ANY kind of hair on my body. I was a late-bloomer, to say the least. But puberty took hold and the first time I tried growing facial hair was my senior year of high school. I grew out my sideburns. They looked like blond moss (that's being generous) growing on the side of my face. Some fuzz beside my ears…a little more fuzz on my chin…and nothing under my lip. Still as smooth as a baby's butt. My next try at being a man was my freshman year at Milligan College. By then, the sideburns had filled in…the chin hair was a little more coarse…and I even had some fuzz under my lip. In between…the Gobi Desert. Nothing. 

I had pretty much given up on the whole beard thing until after Ben was born…around 1986. I was 26 years old then and my co-worker Bill Rigo told me one fall day, "We're going to grow beards!" I agreed…thinking, "This is going to be a waste of time." But it wasn't! After a handful of weeks…I had a real beard! A full beard! A Jeremiah Johnson kind-of-beard! A beard like Nick's! 

I realize that being able to grow a beard doesn't make you a man. It doesn't make you a man any more than being able to bench press more than anyone else in the room. But…the truth be told…not every man can grow one. And if they were all to be completely honest…they wish they could. They wish they had the DNA and genetic makeup to grow a full-on, bushy, beard too. And while I wish my beard wasn't as white as Santa's…and even though I know I'll be tired of it by the middle of January…I still love it! I love having a beard!

I'm guessing Nick might be tired of his beard too by now, but it's like part of your hike…like the backpack and hiking poles you use each day. It's a character in your journey…every bit as important as Old Drum, Yvonna Sherpa and Maybelline…and I'll bet that you'll always think of the Appalachian Trail whenever (or maybe, if ever) Nick grows his out like it is today. To me, Nick's beard has been a way to chart your trip every bit as much as the mileage chart I look up online. His beard's grown and gotten thicker the same way your leg muscles have grown and gotten toned along the way. And even though I will understand that Nick will want to trim off the beard when you return…I'm going to miss it…and wish for its return. 

I know. I'm making too big a deal out of beards…and I know that facial hair doesn't make a man, but here's what does make a man: Walking from Georgia to Vermont…side-by-side with your wife…loving and protecting her all along the way…seeing to her needs and making sure sure she's safe and cared for. That's what makes a man…and also makes his father-in-law very proud.

"Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love."  (1 Corinthians 16:13-14)      

Love,

Dad

Day 156: Angels Unaware      

"We're staying at a hiker hostel run by a Christian cult!"  -- (Katie, on the phone last night)

So, you made me break my media fast last night. I had to. I had to find out about this 12 Tribes group that runs the hostel you stayed at last night. I need to find out as much as I could…in case you two went "dark" and I needed to hunt you down. I had visions of both of you…heads shaved…wearing togas…passing out flowers at the airport. 

I'll admit…the 12 Tribes group is "out there", but I didn't see anything that made me fear for your lives. Mom and I still need to see the picture of the dress the group let her borrow to wear to dinner. Katie's stories of hymns and an after-dinner sermon in Hebrew synched right up with what I found online. It seems the 12 Tribes formed in Tennessee in the early 70s and morphed and changed to where they are today. I goes they're a group of Jesus followers who adhere to all the Judaic (or Jewish) rites and laws; no pork, meeting on the Sabbath, etc.. It sounds like they treated you well, though. They let you wash yourselves (and your clothes) for free…fed you dinner AND breakfast…sans bacon, I'm assuming…and you got to dance with the tambourine players. What more could you ask for, right? The writer of Hebrews (fitting for the 12 Tribes folks) put it this way: 

"Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it." (Hebrews 13:2)

That verse is referring to Genesis 18 where Abraham and Sarah take in three men and feed them…not knowing they were messengers from God…or angels. It's funny how the term everyone uses on the AT is "trail angels"--for people who show hikers any form of kindness. I think about you two at the 12 Tribes Hiker Hostel last night with them taking care of you so well. I wonder if they do it to show the love of Jesus…or do they do it…hoping, wishing and praying for "angels unaware". I can't say I've ever run across an angel. Whenever someone comes across an angel in the Bible…the reaction is all the same: fear. I wonder why. Is it the way they look? Do they REALLY have wings? Or is it because the glory of God just exudes from them? Who knows…and should we care? 

All we're called to do is show hospitality…and that's what those wacky, Jesus-loving, Jewish Law following folks did for you…and maybe you were their angels. 

Love,

Dad

Day 157: 500 Miles Left       

"Passed this early this morning!! Woohoo!" -- Katie

I'm sure you both did the math too. 2,168 minus 500 equals 1,668. When Katie's text and picture came through yesterday morning I immediately figured the mileage out. As you passed that plaque yesterday…noting that Mt. Katahdin is 500 miles away…that means the two of you have walked 1,668 miles since you left Springer Mountain, Georgia on April 2nd, give or take. When you include the couple of detours and all the miles walking to and from the towns, hostels and hotels along the way…there's no telling how many miles you've actually walked. Either way, it's a lot! 

It's funny though, I was talking with Tim Griffin in the church lobby this morning. Tim's on staff in Guest Services. I was so grateful when he was hired last year. When he started…HE became the oldest man on the Flatirons staff! Anyway, Tim's one of the many folks who ask me regularly how you two are doing on the hike. I shared with him your progress, and when I told Tim about the the text and the plaque telling you guys that you were 500 miles from Mt. Katahdin, Tim gasped, "Man!" And I fully expected him to say something like, "They've still got A LONG way to go!" 

But he didn't. 

First of all, Tim's a great encourager, but really…he simply spoke the truth. He said, "Man! They're almost there! They're going to be home before you know it!" It made my heart jump a little; hearing someone else say what Mom and I have been saying for weeks, "You're almost done!" 

Mom and I were talking yesterday as we drove to Ben and Ali's to watch the kids so that they could celebrate Ben's upcoming birthday. We were talking about what kind of effect this adventure is going to have (and has already had) on you both…how it's re-shaped you…and how you'll look at life differently when you're through. Mom was saying how she can already sense the change in Katie. She was talking about how…before you set off on your hike…Katie NEVER would have gone to something like the 12 Tribes Hiking Hostel…worn one of their gunny sack dresses…and danced the Horah to tambourines. Mom was amazed at Katie's courage and adventuresome spirit. 

To me it's just evidence pointing to what (I hope and pray) you both are coming home with. I pray that you both return from the Appalachian Trail with a deep, deep understanding that you can do ANYTHING you put your minds to. Anything! I really do. I pray that this truth has gotten planted deep in your hearts with each plodding step you've taken…up and down every mountain and valley…and across every single one of the 14 states you've walked through. I pray that your hearts cling to this truth and understanding that nothing can stand in your way of achieving your dreams. 

By now, the 500 miles left has already eroded away to close to 450 miles…and soon: double digits. In the words of Tim Griffin, "Man! They're almost there!"

"Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord!"  (Psalm 31:24)

Love,

Dad

Day 158: Hearing God       

So I can break my media fast tomorrow morning. It's been almost a week and here's what I've learned through it:

1) I am COMPLETELY saturated with noise. I do it automatically…and I've done it since I was a kid. As soon as I get in my truck, I turn on the radio and fill the cab with news, music or talk. If something bores me…I flip to another station, then another, then another. I have radio presets on 2 FM settings with 6 stations on each AND I have 3 AM stations I flip to. When I cook in the kitchen, I turn iTunes on and listen to music--either my CDs or one of the many iTunes Radio stations. The bottom line: I fill whatever silence I find myself in with some sort of noise. That just isn't good.

2) I sleep much better without all the cacophony I litter my world with. As you know, I've gotten into the VERY bad habit of watching Netflix on my iPad to fall asleep. I knew it was wrong…I knew it was bad for me (I'd show you the harmful effects of watching a computer screen to fall asleep to, but I'm still media fasting and can't Google it)…and I still kept doing it. It was like a security blanket or something. Like I couldn't go to sleep unless I drifted off to "NCIS" and Mark Harmon stumbling through that RIDICULOUS dialogue! 

3) Silence makes it so that I hear God better. I knew this happened in the wild. I've already written you about this multiple times, but He doesn't just whisper in the mountains or the quiet of some nameless stream in an Appalachian valley. He's been whispering at the breakfast table as I quietly eat my eggs and bacon…with Peanut salivating in the chair next to me. God's been whispering to and from the office (and around town during the day) from the rattling silence of Lil' Red. I shouldn't be, but I'm amazed how much more peaceful and connected to God I've felt in my truck over the past week. Again, I should have known better, but…

Now, I know that I know that I know…this sounds trite to you. You've spent the last 5 months with days-on-end in silence…over 12 different states. You're pros at this silence thing…and I can't wait to hear all the insights you've gotten along the way. But the truth is, you're days away from finishing this trek…and soon…you'll be back home…here in Colorado…and tempted by the same noise as the rest of us. So, here's what I'd like to do…here are some steps I plan to take to prolong the good I've experienced (and I'm throwing this over your fence to keep in mind when you return:

1) No more radio in my truck. I REALLY want to do this. I'm even willing to unhook the wires so that my temptation won't overtake me. Normally, I find myself getting frustrated and angry by the STUPIDITY of drivers..and the drone of the same 25 classic rock tunes blaring in the background doesn't help. What I HAVE found is that the silence of Lil' Red's truck cab ushers in a peace I rarely experience on the road. Over the last week, I've not only experienced peace…I've heard God whisper to me again…and I want to hear more of that.

2) I'm pulling the plug…or more to the point…the cable. Like the old saying goes, "650 stations and nothing on." We're getting rid of cable TV. Anything I might want to watch is on Netflix…and anything that isn't…isn't. I'll have to figure something out about  football, but I'm not going to let that get in the way of eliminating the noise from our TV set…the mindless nuisance that is cable TV. 

3) No more iPad. I WILL NOT watch the iPad anymore before bedtime…and hopefully…the growing stack of books in my office and beside my bed will begin to dwindle. Right now, I'm reading "Flesh" by Hugh Halter. It's about "incarnational ministry". I know. Huh? But it's good…and convicting…and provocative. I just wrote Bob Tunnel and asked him to set up a meeting with Hugh Halter…and I told Bob, "I don't know whether to punch Hugh or hug him." Maybe I'll know by the time I finish…and BEFORE I meet him.

I know these are baby steps…steps that probably seem trite to you two, but they're steps nonetheless…steps forward…toward a better place…a place where I hear God's whisper more frequently…and hopefully…soon…it will grow from a whisper to a conversation…and then, who knows. 

I'd love to hear God scream.      

"Whoever is of God hears the words of God. The reason why you do not hear them is that you are not of God.”   (John 8:47)

Love,

Dad

Day 159: Can't Stop Time        

Burpees. I hate them. Here is the online definition of the burpee:

"The burpee is a full body exercise used in strength training and as an aerobic exercise. Here are the basic steps:

1. Begin in a standing position.
2. Drop into a squat position with your hands on the ground.
3. Kick your feet back, while keeping your arms extended.
4. Immediately return your feet to the squat position.
5. Jump up from the squat position."

So, I started doing this Crossfit thing. I'm still new at it…and it's really, really hard right now. Mom was worried because I came home to discover that I popped an eye blood vessel during tonight's workout. I want to blame the burpees, but I'm sure it was the 5 rounds of 30 second hand stands against a wall. I'm sure that's what did it. Still, while it's really hard…Brian Bender and the folks at Cut Throat Crossfit have been great. They're very encouraging and helpful and motivating…in that masochisticly positive way. I know, if I stick with it, it's going to be a real benefit…if I don't pop a blood vessel in my brain first! Scott Nickell and Michael Koehn have also been very encouraging in this new exercise endeavor. Jim…not so much. He usually asks me if I've been given "feminine products" after each of my workouts, but deep down…I know he's happy I'm doing this too. I need to get prepared for what lies ahead. At 55 years old, I want to be as healthy as I can until everything just gives way and falls apart. It's going to happen. You can't stop time from marching forward.

And that's what's been on my mind today. As you both know, today is Mom's birthday…which means…tomorrow is Ben's birthday. I remember sitting in the maternity room in Painseville, Ohio on September 8, 1985. Mom was deep in labor for Ben and it was her birthday. The nursing staff had turned the lights off and told Mom to try and get some rest. That was impossible. As we both sat in the dark in that maternity room I told Mom, "Well, sorry. You know what this means? Your birthday will be forever lost after the baby's born." And I pretty much had it on the button. Ben was born on September 9, 1985 and from that day on…with back-to-back birthdays…Mom gladly took backseat to Ben. 

Fast forward to today. Like always, I wished Mom a Happy Birthday before we left for work and told her to be thinking of where she wanted to go out to eat. She was leaning towards Old Chicago and the deep dish Chicago 7. Then, I saw Ben at the office. We were in a meeting together first thing this morning and he was very quiet throughout. After it ended I asked him if he was okay and he told me he was in a funk. I pressed him for a reason and in the midst of some other stuff…he said, "And…I turn 30 tomorrow." And I thought I was having a problem with him turning 30! Like I already said, you can't stop time from marching forward. 

And as I sweated and gassed my way through tonight's workout…doing all those burpees and handstands…I kept thinking, "You may have a 30 year old son…but your daughter and son-in-law are pushing themselves much harder than this across the mountains of New England. You can do a few more burpees." And it helped. You were both as much as an encouragement as Brian Bender at Cut Throat was tonight. Thanks!

“I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint.” (Jeremiah 31:25)   

Love,

Dad

p.s. I know we are a family that's poor at celebrating, but if you can…try to wish Ben a Happy Birthday tomorrow.

Day 160: Grateful        

"2nd to the last state!!!!!!! Woohooooo! 442 miles to go!"  -- Katie

Katie, it was so good to hear your voice this afternoon. Sorry I had to run…and was never able to get back to you, but the text and the picture REALLY lifted me! 

You guys have crossed over the Vermont-New Hampshire line and into Hanover, NH. Did you hike past Dartmouth College? Dartmouth: Home to Daniel Webster, Nelson A. Rockefeller and Mr. Rogers ("It's a lovely day in the neighborhood, hikers."). If I remember right, you're in Bill Bryson's old neighborhood…when he got the idea of hiking the Appalachian Trail…which spawned the hilarious book, "A Walk in the Woods" (BTW…Andy Winemen's review of the movie: "Meh…"). I love knowing you only have two states to go…442 more miles…and in a couple of days…in the 300s. So close.

We're staring down the barrel of men's retreat this weekend, but today I took Ben out to lunch, to celebrate his 30th birthday. It was Buffalo Wild Wings. A lot has changed since we first smeared cake in his face back in Ohio for his 1st birthday. No cake today. Just buffalo wings and beer. I will admit…while the joy and excitement was different on his first birthday…the meal was much better today. As we sat and talked about life, ministry, and getting older I was consumed with gratefulness…grateful to God for the way He orchestrates life…grateful that I get to work with my son and that I can eat wings and drink beer and enjoy conversation with him…and that he WANTS to do that with me. Then, after getting back to the office, I get a phone call from Katie…and another wave of gratefulness overtakes me. Why has God been so good? 

It makes me feel guilty. 

I can't help it. So many of the stories I hear and experience as Men's Pastor at Flatirons are in direct opposition of the way my life looks. The pain…the rejection…the hurt, the shame, the regret…the broken families and fractured relationships…I can't help but feel guilty. But I'll forever be grateful…for however long this season lasts…I'll be grateful that my kids want to eat wings and drink beer with me…and that they want to talk with me when phone service is SO spotty…and that I get to stare into the beautiful faces of my grand babies, in person, on a very regular basis. 

I'm guilty, but grateful. And I never would have guessed I could be any happier than I was 30 years ago when Benjamin David Foote was laid on Mom's belly and we saw each other face-to-face for the first time. I didn't think I could be any happier than September 9, 1985…but I am.

And I'm so grateful.        

Hike fast. I need to see your faces soon.

Love,

Dad