One of These Things Is Not Like The Other (Some random Thoughts)

I was pondering this...

Recently there have been some high profile deaths. Gerald Ford, , Peter Boyle, Saddam Hussein, and James Brown. (Although I would like to take this time to voice my conspiracy theory that Saddam is still alive.) However, I am certain that James Brown is dead. In light of Martin Luther King Jr. Day and the approaching Black History month... I am curious... as James brown is or was an icon of soul music and the black community, how do you go about respectfully observing a remembrance of a soul singer, especially one as... uh... charismatic as James Brown? Will someday the banks close to remember the passing of Justin Timberlake in rememberance of the man who single handedly brought sexy back?

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Did you know...

... that it is National Fig Newton Day. Have one in celebration.

A Lost Art

I have always wanted to write a book. Mostly, I feel like I make a lot of observations about the world and they are the kind of things that are boring to listen to someone prattle on about, but when you read them you say, "hmmm... I never thought about that." Then you prattle on about them to someone else. This is one of those such topics.

A Lost Art: Gifting.

I have observed recently that in an attempt at social comfort we have lost some of the social graces that made everything about those encounters... complete. For instance, when a friend has wronged you and they apologize, the response that you give to that humble act is, "Don't worry about it. It is nothing. It's not a big deal. Forget about it." and my personal favorite, "It's okay." This is done obviously to try to relieve the weight and magnitude of the climate and make your friend feel less guilty. However, what really has happened is that one friend humbled themselves to apologize for an act that was a big enough "deal" that it merited an apology and what they receive for their efforts is... Nothing. In fact, less than nothing. They receive a lie that says, "you didn't even have to apologize, because I didn't care." No forgiveness. No absolution. No closure. Incomplete.

And since it is Christmas time, I've been reflecting on the social graces involved in gift giving. Not just Christmas gifts, but gift giving in general. You see, I believe that more often than not people are better gift givers than gift receivers. And sometimes for no other reason that no one has taught them the proper way to receive a gift.

When you were about six or seven you started to loose the innocence of receiving gifts. Your parents brace you for the fact that some of those brightly wrapped gifts under the tree are socks and underwear. And they teach you that when you open them to say, "Wow! Thanks! I really need these!" Let's just be honest. Regardless of whether you did or did not need those, you would have pretended none the less. This training continues into the teen years when you learn about receipts, exchanges, and re-gifting. All of which are not exactly good gifting habits, but seem necessary. And somewhere along the way we loose what the true art of "Gifting" is.

I could write about this forever, but let me share some quick tips for gifting with you.

1. Gift giving is more meaningful when it is not a holiday. Gifting out of thought rather than "obligation" is ten times the gift.
- "I was thinking about you yesterday and saw this and knew you would want it."

2. When receiving the gift make sure you honor the gift. Look for the "why" of the gift. And then speak it out.
- Your grandma makes you an ugly sweater, but it is because that is the best she can afford and she did it with her own time and effort. So you say, "Thank you Grandma, this must have taken you a long time to make."

3. Learn to recognize your obligation to the gift. You are under no obligation but to honor the gift. A gift that is "repaid" is not a gift, but a loan. To "repay" someone's gift out of obligation is to unmake the gift and turn it into something less and cheap.
- If someone pays for dinner say "thank you". Don't keep track, don't get them a gift that is of equal value. Just give back to them out of your generosity. You might pick up the tap at McDonald's and they might pick it up at LoanStar twice. Say "thank you". Complete.

4. Don't expect something back from your own generosity. Not even a "thank you." Giving with expectation is not a gift, but a "payment."
- You will find you are less disappointed with gifting when you expect nothing in return for your gift.

These are just some quit tips, but the reality is that we have to shed the feelings of obligation and guilt involved with gift giving. Don't feel guilty because someone got you a Christmas gift and you didn't get them anything... Thank them for the gift. Honor their generosity, don't cheapen it. And don't throw away the joy of the gift because you feel guilty.

May you have a generous New Year.

Uncle Luc... Awkward?

My niece Kiera was born Dec 11th at 2:05 AM. Allow me to share the not so magical parts...

- People ask me if she is beautiful or cute or what does she look like?: I only saw her when she was fresh from the womb. What do I say? "Well, she is kind of wrinkly and purple and crying and squinty.

- I find it weird that everyone wants to know her "stats". I considered making her own baseball card. Kiera Cathryn Motley: 18 inches tall, weighing in at 5lbs 11ounces, with a life-time era of...

- Christy went into the hospital having mild "clenching contractions" not "pushing contractions." So they put her on pain meds expecting more painful contractions. Those never came and they decided to C-section. So they numbed her and put her under. All in all, I was disappointed with the whole "...women's threshold for pain at childbirth..." thing. Christy is slightly sore from the surgery... no other pain.

- Since now my brother has both married and had a child (a girl no less) my parents seem more expectant that I would "catch-up" and get married SOON! As proud as I am to be an uncle, I don't feel like my biological clock is ticking and I will marry when I am ready. But the extra pressure is annoying.


However, none of these things take away from the fact that I have a beautiful baby niece and I look forward to teaching her what no one else in the family can teach her. Style and good taste.

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Today I find my self in a festive mood. Usually at this time of year, I am snapping at everyone and displaying a rather Ba-Hum-Bug attitude. Ever since I was born Christmas time has started in July and ended in January. In Fisher and Plano my mother was the director of the Living Christmas Tree. (for those of you that have never seen one, it is a giant Christmas tree shaped apparatus that holds a choir on risers built into the tree. And so, since I was able to crawl I have been singing, acting, preparing, running tech, and finally overseeing this enterprise. We've gotten pretty good at it. We do six shows and sell them out at 300 seats a show totaling 1800 tickets sold per year.

But in order to put on said performance, the choir starts practicing in September. For the choir to practice they have to have their books and tapes/CDs by August and that means preparations begin in July. So I have had to listen to Christmas music 5 months out of year almost every year. This year we took a break and didn't do the tree.

This is the first time, in long time, that I am really excited about Christmas. And today I caught myself sing "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" as I was working.

So if I don't see you this Christmas... May the blessings of Christ Jesus be with you as you celebrate the day of the Christ Mass.

Creatures of Habit...

This is a blog about garbage.

Actually it is about my garbage can. See, in our kitchen we have a very slick looking garbage can. I'm not quite sure why, maybe it is all the testosterone coursing through my veins, but I have always wanted a stainless steel garbage can. So, when I moved back north, I bought one. It currently resides in the kitchen and looks really shiny. The best part is that this bullet can has a foot pedal that lifts the lid of the can. I made sure it had this feature, not because it is handy, although it is handy when you are scraping leftover Chinese food into it, but because of a deep seeded reason in my childhood.

When this garbage can pedal was first invented my grandpa (who as a small child I considered the richest man I knew because he would give us five dollars in quarters) had one and I thought it was the coolest thing ever!!! I would just stand there and stomp on the pedal and make the garbage can lid lift up and down like a puppet mouth. I would pretend the garbage can was speaking to me, not that I still do that...

All that to say, now that I have a garbage can with a pedal I have picked up some rather strange habits. I went into the garage the other day to throw some cans in the recycling bin and stomped on the ground three times before I remembered this particular bin does not open with a pedal. I got so mad! I was outraged because my hands were full. And as I reflected I realized that lately I have been annoyed each time I go to someone's house and have to (God forbid) lift the lid to the garbage. Not only that, but if you watch me approach a garbage can, while you are checking out my butt, slide a little to the south and look at my feet. My right foot will be right where the pedal would have been... positioning me closer to the can than I would naturally be. It is almost as if I have developed an "I'm throwing this away" stance where my right foot has to touch the can.

There seem to be a lot of things in our homes that we just assume work the same way in other peoples home. Or they are put away in the same cabinet, etc. I'm I the only one who does this?

Lucas flexes at you... Ooohh So Strong

So over Thanksgiving I went to Springfield, IL. I traveled to the deep south to visit my girlfriends parents. That's right! Holiday's at the In-Laws! Well not quite the in-laws... how do you say that... the dating-laws?

So I always feel a bit intimidated down there, but you would never know it. Charissa's parents are world travelers, previous missionaries, and her dad is a college professor. Last time we visited, her dad and I had a 20 minute discussion about proteins. I think it was a test. At this time I would like to send a shout out to my college Biology professor... Thank you Scott Jones for all your biology wisdom. Don't get me wrong I graduated with honors, but we just don't seem to read the same books, if you know what I mean. But even though, sometimes I feel like I may have the smallest brain pan in the room I always just try to relax and keep up as best I can.

So for Thanksgiving dinner we go to Charissa's grandparents house and her Aunt, Uncle, and 3 cousins came over. Charissa is an English major, her dad a professor, her G-pa is a doctor, one cousin is pre-med, etc, etc. Clearly the gene pool is stacked. So what game do we play... Scrabble. Actually we played speed scrabble which is a lot of fun. It's kind of like scrabble, but faster and there is no board. I didn't think I would have a prayer.

There were words like meerkats, and roadsigns, and I'm pretty sure someone spelled an 11 letter words with only 10 tiles. But when it came to the last round, who was ahead by 34 points. ME! So the last round myself and her pre-med cousin brent were still true to the task, but everyone else got a teammate. And so I lost by 1 point. The Holland Family had to team up to beat me!?!

The greatest Irony is that I achieved victory by spelling words like "zoo", "pits", "go", and "jig". Suckas. Don't mess.

This post contained 6 grammatical errors previous to spell check.

May Angels Wing You To Your Rest

She's dead.




My heart hurts and it is pounding through my chest. Betty Jo Bidner has died of respiratory failure. I haven't seen her in two years. Not since my brother's wedding. She was one of the kindest women I have ever known. She had time to teach a squirming six year old piano. Even when he didn't, couldn't play she never made him feel bad. She just kept encouraging. When the whole world was looking to my brother as "the musical one" she would tell me that I was gifted and should pick up another instrument and another.

I moved away when I was 10 years old. Every year I got a birthday card. Every year, a Christmas card. She came to my graduation. She came to my ordination.

She's dead. She leaves behind, a loving husband, two children, grandchildren, and a very grateful 25 year old boy.

You owe me on this one...

So this weekend Jonikay invited my roommate and I to movie. I wasn't going to go, but my roommate begged me because I think he owed Joni money or something... I don't know. So I got dragged to this movie... little did I know that the reason my roommate and I were asked to go is that Jonikay had plans of her own.

Half way through the movie there began to be quite a few naked men and penises gracing the screen with their presence. Joni told us that Bre had highly recommended this movie. This made me slightly uncomfortable in and of itself, however, every time one of these scenes took place I looked over and Jonikay was "making eyes" and "making obscene gestures" in my general direction. I was shocked! It seems miss Jonikay was trying to seduce me while my girlfriend (her roommate) is in Florida. I felt so violated and ashamed. My roommate was pissed. He also felt used and embarrassed. Nothing happened, I swear! I told Joni she should be ashamed and go home. Tyler had to drive her home because she was drunk. So I strapped Tyler's chastity belt on him and told him not to make baby Jesus cry. All in all, an eventful evening I would say.


And now a true story...

So Tyler and I got to the movie early to get tickets and seats. It's a good thing, because the show quickly sold out and seats filled up fast. I went in to save seats while Tylo waited for Jonikay. She was late, because she had to put on her leopard stretch pants.

So as I sat alone in the theatre, the crowd started to get restless "THerE ARen't EnOUgh Seats!!" A group of three came into the theatre and after being deny twice they frantically looked at me and said, "YOU!" (who me?) "yeah, are those seats taken?" (the three on my left were open) "Oh thanks, thanks so much!" They continued this praise every time they passed me which was 2 concession runs and 4 bathroom breaks. "Thanks so much!"

Did those seats belong to me? Did I wield such power? Could I have shattered their very lives? Was I deserving of such praise? People are freaks.

No... It's Spelled F-L-U-X Capacitor

How do you feel about who you've become?

I don't mean who you are... I mean how do you feel about who you have become? How does it compare? How do you feel about the difference between (you) now and (you) then?

A lot of times we feel complacent or disappointed about who we are: I'm too fat, I don't like my hair, I'm not pretty enough, I'm not smart enough, etc, etc, etc. But it's funny to me, that as most of us at times don't like who we are or where we are, we are usually pleased with the comparison to who we were. How about you? Would you want to go back? Did you like who you were better?

There have been seasons in my life of joy, sorrow, melancholy, unadulterated ecstasy, overwhelming depression, and undeniable goofiness (and I'm not even bi-polar). I've seen the rise and fall of 5 and 1/2 girlfriends, the coming and going of countless friends, and the near breaking of my heart at the hands of those I trusted. But was it worth it?

I think about it sometimes. Who would I be? What would I be doing? Did I waste my heart on dating, or did it make me better at relationships? Was it worth it? Would I have traded the good to avoid the bad? Have my experiences in ministry helped me to be better or worse? I think I'm certainly less naive. But am I jaded? Could I have learned the same lessons with out the pain? Is the fact that I don't keep up with everyone I've hung out with or befriended make our friendship void and a waste of time? Did it shape me? Would I want to go back and be the man I was two, three, six years ago?

I think about the guy I used to be. I miss him sometimes. But I don't know if I would want to be him. I think about the guys I could have been...

It's Like An Eighth Grade Graduation... Only Catholic

That's right... I'm Back... sorry for the slight delay.

So my roommate works for a church that is "non-denominational, independent, Christian, blah, blah, blah..." They are Lutheran. Or, at least, they have enough Lutheran background to have Catholic tendencies. (P.S. don't ever tell a Lutheran they are Catholic, they really get pissed... and then cross themselves and walk away.) So my roommate working at this church is fun, because it is new and different than what either of us have experienced in church work. He is the music/youth pastor. So, on Saturday he put together his first ever Confirmation Service. He asked me to come and play guitar at this service, and this would be my first experience attending that church. It was... awesome.

It was like one of those 1950's cars that are tricked out with the latest electronics. It was a service based in Catholic/Lutheran Confirmation Literagy and we were singing Third Day/Tomiln worship songs with Media Shout video presentations. And the whole thing is held in the gym at the Middle School.

The service itself lived up to its name. It was a confirmation service. It confirmed that "yes", in fact, these were freshman in high school. There were nine kids moving from confirmation class or "Jr. High Youth Group" to B.A.S.I.C. or "High School Youth Group". Each one gave a short speech about what they believed about Jesus Christ. Each one got better and better. Answers ranged from the Buddy Christ helping them with their homework, to Jesus, the man who they tell they're sorry to stay out of Hell.

The smartest answer was given by a child who was 35 years old, or at least appeared to be. He had a full, Ned Flanders mustache. Granted it just looked like no one ever gave him a razor, but it was clearly more hair than I have ever grown on my face. This made me skeptical, but once he opened his mouth I was certain he was 35. The bass in his voice was startling. Clearly, this man was a plant to boast GPA's in the confirmation Class.

One of my favorite speeches involved a young lady who began her speech with audience participation... even though she did not count on it. She began... "I love Jesus..." and was then interrupted by a "Yeeeaaahhhh!" from a toddler in the back row. I almost wet my pants.

Yet another Student included his mother's divorce and remarriage in his speech. He told us that he had prayed to God that his mother wouldn't marry his new step-father, but since his prayers weren't answered that he was happy God had given him "Steve" but wasn't quite sure what to do with him and his 2 and a half siblings. I believe the shade of his mother's face was... Scarlet Red.

It was one of those nights you spent trying not to laugh the entire time, because these people took this very seriously, but that is what made it more funny. (inappropriate laughter at inappropriate times is always the best kind of laughter).

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