Putting on the Armor of God

When we first arrived in Jacksonville, Gavin and I visited the library a handful of times before it closed. Yes, due to a lack of funding, the entire valley is without a library system. During one visit we saw a great exhibit which included chain mail worn during a reenactment of the battle of Hastings. The chain mail was hand-made by a local man, and we thought it would be great to visit him and learn more. I emailed him immediately, however, it took several months to connect due to schedules, weather, and having a new addition to the family.


On Saturday, along with the Thompson’s and their four boys, we were finally able to met Arild. We learned that it took 3 years of part-time work to make the chain mail so that he could participate in the October 14, 2006 reenactment in England. Arild has two boys of his own and they, too went to the reenactment. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Hastings_reenactment


We learned a lot, the kids got to duel with Arild’s boys, and we actually got to make a few of the chain mail “rings.” After we left, we went to a local Mexican restaurant in Jacksonville, as we were waiting to order in walks Arild and his family.


The next day, we decided to, once again, try out Apple Gate Christian Fellowship http://www.applegatefellowship.org/. During this time of year they have all services in an outdoor amphitheater. The entire hillside is carved into steps about 4 feet wide, and covered in lush grass. As we sat at the top of the amphitheater we looked down on baskets overflowing with flowers and nestled between trees providing a constantly changing canopy of shade. The band is located in the middle, near a rock waterfall that flows into a small shallow pond. The basic message was to seek God’s hand in everything we do, remembering not to proclaim His involvement, but humbly appreciate His help. During the service we saw several people running toward one end of the amphitheater yelling “CALL 911”. It turns out that a gentleman had a heart attack just as the service began. Thankfully, the church consists of several cardiac surgeons who were able to help him until the ambulance arrived.


During the warm months, they serve hamburgers and hotdogs after the service for $2.50 each. As we made our way down the grass steps we were stopped by Lora, Arild’s wife. We talked for several minutes and she shared more about Applegate Christian and why they have made it their church. Running into Lora and her family, yet again, reminds us of the smallness of our town.


Later at home while reflecting on the church service, Gavin comes to me and mentions that he use to not be able to get his own water glass from the cupboard, but has now figured out how to do it himself. Then he says, “But Dad, I realize that it is not just me, but God helping me figure it out. I can see God in everything I do.”


Another reminder that Gavin is always listening and thinking.

Parking Lot Milk Drop

As the weeks go by we find new things becoming old things. And old things becoming part of our daily, or weekly, routine. I suppose that means we are starting to feel a bit more comfortable living in Southern Oregon. Yet we continue to experience things that again make us realize we are out of our element.
So there we were sitting in a small parking lot with a car load of kids, windows rolled down waiting for Carl and Monna.

DeeAnn has been researching the health attributes of cows milk. Turns out there is significant health benefits from milk that has not been processed in any fashion, this is known as “raw milk.” The state of Oregon limits farmers who distribute raw milk to two cows. In addition they are not allowed to advertise or promote their product in any way. Upon further investigation DeeAnn finds Carl, the only farmer in our region, who sells raw milk, and happens to be giving a seminar on the benefits of raw milk. So on Saturday DeeAnn and Katie attended a Wise Traditions Chapter Meeting (www.westonaprice.org), to hear Carl speak. Wise Traditions encourages people to explore traditional ways of eating for a healthier lifestyle. Much to DeeAnn’s dismay, there is a waiting list of 25 people for the milk produced by Carl‘s two Jersey cows.

On Monday morning Carl calls to say that he has had a family reduce the amount of milk they are taking and wants to know if we want a gallon every Monday at 11:30?

As we wait, we try to guess what color of truck Carl drives. I choose white, Gavin red, DeeAnn black and Ethan blue. We watch people come and go as I point out various locals I have met and explain their unique personalities. Finally Carl arrives driving a white sedan. He and Monna, his wife, hop out and pull two glass half gallon canning jars out of an ice chest. Carl explains the process of swapping jars each week as well as the fine art of swirling the milk to mix the cream back in without letting it stick to the lid.

Money paid, raw milk in hand and there we sit in a parking lot thinking about the milk drop we just experienced. Perhaps I will consider participating in a cow sharing plan if all goes well.

Celebrating Life

In a single day one man ended the lives of so many. Another record is broken and the news organizations move into high gear telling and retelling the story. This will then trickle down to the “newstainment” and talk shows as they provide more insight into the event through the stories of victims and parents of the deceased.

I looked up “School Massacre” on Wikipedia and, of course, it is already updated with the Virginia Tech tragedy along with a long list of other school shootings I had forgotten. Do you remember the Russian school that was stormed by gunmen and over 350 died? or perhaps the shooting at Red Lake High School in Minnesota in 2005?

As a culture, I am always fascinated our ability to be emotionally moved by such tragedies. Is it because we mourn for the lives that were cut short, or is it the violation of sacred places such as schools and churches, or perhaps it’s a fear that makes us realize how vulnerable both our lives are, as well as the lives of those we love? Imagine living in Iraq where this type of massacre happens nearly everyday. Is their grief any greater or the sense of loss stronger? Has it become so routine, that their senses are dull from the enormous loss suffered as a society? I would love to know what the typical Iraqi feels when a nation of 300 million puts the death of 32 people at center stage. Do you have a feeling of sadness, or disbelief at such distortion when compared to current Iraqi deaths?

In spite of this situation we move on as people, and more specifically, we have chosen to hear, but not overwhelm our minds with this news.

As I mentioned several weeks ago, Gavin informed us that he wanted to learn to ride his bike without training wheels. I spent time at a local school running back and forth trying to ingrain a sense of balance in him, but he seemed off kilter as he giggled throughout the practice. Do to schedules, and weather, it has been a while sense we last attempted to ride.

So, at his urging, we went back to the school to give it another shot. Well, we are pleased to announce that Gavin is now a full fledge bike rider! As we left the school both riding our two-wheeled bikes, he lost his balance and careened off the road and into the bushes. Once he stopped he laughed and said, “Boy, I’m glad that was not poison oak!” I suppose he has adapted quite well to the local culture. Back on the road, we weaved and wobbled our way toward home until we reached a fairly steep hill. Gavin hopped off his bike and I was asking him various questions about learning to ride and what he thought. Suddenly he changed the topic and asked, “Dad, when do you think shoes were first invented? Do you think it was in caveman days or bible days? I think it was bible days but maybe it was caveman days too…..” He continued to talk about shoes until we reached the top of the hill.

As we reached the top and wobbled down the other side, Gavin lead a procession of cars and trucks all unwilling to pass the kid on his bike who, somehow, managed to take up both sides of the road, or at least threatened it.

Do you remember the first time you rode a bike? What a sweet feeling it was to feel in control as you flew around the block. Today as I rode beside Gavin I was thinking of all the things he must be feeling inside. I am a firm believer that to build confidence within a child, it should be built on real events and not artificial attempts.

Today we celebrated one of those events.

The New and Improved Easter

I am not sure what traditions you have for Easter but for us they are, of course, geared toward the children. DeeAnn always creates wonderful baskets full of fun things, and this year was the first that little Ethan could really participate in coloring and hunting eggs. Early Sunday morning DeeAnn was lying on the couch with Camden when suddenly Gavin appeared and quietly crept over to the baskets. Surprisingly he had forgotten about baskets, so when they caught his eye he approached them with the kind of disbelief you may experience when happening upon an oasis in the middle of an sun baked desert. He hovered around looking at each item but never touching them. He then went back up stairs to his room, only to return a short time later to inspect the goodies once more. This happened several times, all the while thinking DeeAnn was asleep on the couch. He did, finally, busy himself with the project that had originally brought him down stairs. DeeAnn did not wait long before she called him over to observe the huge smile on his face and give him permission to wake-up the house.

It seems strange that on the two most important celebrations for Christians we give gifts and create meaningless anticipation for children. Why don’t we give gifts on the fourth of July or at least Thanksgiving (the name itself merits gifts)? Perhaps I will start that tradition in our family on Thanksgiving. I can almost hear the applause from all the retail outlets as they acknowledge me for greater consumption during the holiday season.

We have always tried to focus on the true meaning of holidays, yet sometimes you feel so detached from its meaning you wonder if it really matters that you celebrate. Can you imagine in 500 years our nation celebrating September 11th with a special meal, perhaps pork, followed by fun games for the kids that have nothing to do with the event, then gifts to be opened by all. It seems rather absurd but not much different than other holidays. I realize September 11th is a day of despair for so many people, not one of celebration such as the birth or resurrection of Christ, but the motions and festivals that surround these celebrations seem just as misplaced.

Easter really is a pretty powerful day to remember, and yet it does not seem to get nearly the same star power as Christmas. Not to bring in the old chicken and egg thing but Christ’s birth was not nearly as important as His resurrection. It does start a week before with Palm Sunday and of course Good Friday but for some reason it simply does not have the same momentum as Christmas.

Perhaps it is my own fault in that I am driven by what I see around me. The more excitement from others the more enthusiastic I become. Therefore, I bow to the pressures of consumerism and place value depending on the intensity of others. And yet, that is what bothers me.

Perhaps that is the beauty of Easter Sunday. Let the rest of the world focus on selling His birth while we learn to quietly celebrate His life and resurrection.

Spring has Arrived

It has been a long time since Easter felt like springtime. Crisp mornings, warm days, bright flowers suddenly appear everywhere and the songs of my childhood about Spring showers and May flowers come alive in my head.

Tuesday started with more giant snowflakes falling but by Wednesday it was a bright sunny day. We went to shoot arrows with the Thompson boys at a sports complex in Grants Pass which is about 30 minutes Northwest of Medford. It was Connor’s birthday and he invited Gavin to participate. We marched through the woods to each shooting station with seven boys in tow and safely exited onto a huge field with long strands of green grass blowing in the cold air. It was fairly breathtaking as the sun cast warm rays that could be felt in-between the surging wind.

On Thursday Gavin announced that he was interested in taking the training wheels off his bike. So we rode over to the local elementary school to practice in the field. He was very excited, and a bit goofy, about the possibility of riding without them. That was when he noticed the huge playground. Suddenly swings and slides were his new passion and the bike thing seemed far more difficult. After some negotiation we agreed to hold off on the playground until he learned to ride without the training wheels. We took several passes up and down the field with me holding, correcting, releasing, grabbing, correcting, releasing, grabbing again and finally running past him to confirm that he was indeed riding a bike before he hit the soft ground. I wonder if this was what the Wright Brothers felt as they tried to take flight for the first time. It seems as though the bumpy terrain makes Gavin laugh and giggle to the point of losing control while pedaling. So I’m pretty sure that if I can get him to stop laughing while pedaling we may have more success. We will make our practice runs on the track next time.

“Dad I have a surprise for you.” Now usually this is not a cause for alarm but since Ethan was nowhere to be found it brought some concern. Into the bathroom we went where Gavin theatrically says, “Wheeeere’s Ethan? Wheeere’s Ethan! Ethan, now its time!” Suddenly the lid to the boys dirty clothes basket shakes and we pull it off to reveal Ethan squashed inside surrounded by his brothers underwear. This is something you only get to experience if you have an older brother.

Today we went to a bookstore in downtown Medford and parked in the public parking garage next door. We easily found a spot among the other cars. By the time we left the store it was time to feed Camden so we sat in the truck for 30 minutes or so. When we finally drove away, I made a comment to DeeAnn about the number of cars that passed us in the garage during those 30 minutes. It was one.

As we drove home we observed cows and horses eating, orchards with budding flowers, fresh green crops growing in rich dark soil, and homes dotted with bright tulips and daffodils, all announcing that spring is here.