Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Phone-a-Thon

The time was 9:30 p.m. and I was hard at work alone in the office as I often am late in the dark summer evenings on a daily basis in spite of the fact that I regularly arrive long before the sun has come up on the eastern horizon due to my high level of commitment to the cause....perhaps I slightly overstated the hour and the context. It was about 5:30 p.m. and I was already planning on sneaking out to get a jump on my evening blog, when my plans were detoured by a group of six young students from Thunderbird Academy who paraded into my office for no apparent reason.
I had not been expecting visitors at such an hour as this. I should have been. My mind quickly assessed the situation (being a trained professional assessor of situations). I recalled a conversation I had previously had with Mark Tamalea'a, I believe it was a couple hours earlier in the day, when he had reminded me that the Phone-a-Thon was scheduled to begin today. He was hoping I would at least lend my support through my presence at the two venues, the conference office and the school library.
I welcomed the young men and asked them how the school year was going. I remembered most of them from Week of Prayer. One of the young men came up and shook my hand. Very polite young people at Thunderbird! They were the boys who would be making the phone calls from the conference phones. The supervisor, Oliver, quickly passed out the script, the pledge sheets, and a tab of paper for prayer requests. They dispersed to various cubicles around the building and began the task of working their lists.
I observed a couple of them. They were nervous and more than a bit apprehensive. I said something about standing at the edge of a pool and dreading the first contact with the water. "Jump in!" I said. They gave me a polite smile and continued to stare at their lists. One boy secured a $25 pledge and the ice was broken.
I knew I would not be able simply to wander around the room watching the poor boys, so I decided to do the right thing. I excused myself and packed up my things to head out to the school library. Actually, I asked Oliver for a sheet of names to "work.". He handed me a list and said, "You speak Spanish, don't you?" I responded that I did when needed. He gave a nervous laugh and moved on. Yes, I made some calls to the Apache Junction Spanish SDA Church members. Cold turkey!
I was not very successful. Most of the phone numbers were out of order or disconnected. I got to speak to about six people out of 52 members in the church. One hung up on me. Another told me they had just started working that week. One told me to call him back after he asked his wife. Another one said "Thank you" politely and then hung up very gently. And then, unexpectedly, sweet success! One fine individual asked for a pledge card for $25. I thought to myself, "If one out of every five people we actually speak to gives us $25, we will be fine." I was jazzed!
I found out as I was leaving that the school library group had been assigned the alumni lists. We had gotten the church list. They fared much better. I understand one of the people in the library was able to secure a donation from every person on her list! It's a challenge, but I give kudos to the students and the staff that put themselves out there risking hang-ups and rejection. It's nice to see a group of people working together to problem-solve. I will keep you posted.
It’s time for me to go to bed. I hope I don't get a phone call tonight!

Reflections on Mandatory Meeting

Last night a significant number of pastors from all across the Arizona Conference of Seventh-day Adventists, joined together with all the teachers of Thunderbird Adventist Academy for a mandatory meeting held inside the church on the campus of Thunderbird Academy.

First, about the mandatory...I don't understand mandatory. If it is mandatory, one would be justified in asking why everyone that could be there was not there. Does this happen in other systems? How about in the business world? What possesses an individual to imply that their time is more valuable than the time of all the other people who lopped off a chuck of their limited time to drive a considerable distance just to attend this mandatory meeting? It escapes me.
I am new in this particular conference (Arizona Conference of Seventh-day Adventists), so I am not privy as to the number of mandatory meetings scheduled on short notice. I would venture to guess that they are rare. Last minute mandatory meetings would soon become counterproductive if they were the norm and not the rare exception.
I confess I have never been to a short notice mandatory meeting. As principal I recall calling for one short notice mandatory meeting. One. I was quite pleased at the attendance to this meeting. On a personal note, I would have been quite conflicted about attending a mandatory meeting if I was on the receiving end of the mandate. Of course, that is due in large part to the resistive nature of my personality to anything mandated. It is not a good place to be, since life is full of things that are mandated to do over which we have little control. So one has a choice to either become a total recluse and make a statement of non-compliance against anything mandated (taxes, speed limits, health screening, social security numbers, etc.) or to concede that a certain level of normalcy within a civilized society requires a certain amount of compromise. Unless the mandate is illegal, immoral, or dangerous, I will concede. But I digress... After all, I value my job, if nothing else. I came to the meeting.
The meeting went quite well. The only item on the agenda was a call for the entire body of conference and TAA workers to respond to a critical call to enlist more students. Elder Anobile, AZ Conference President, provided the spiritual foundation for the evening. Elder Ed Keyes, AZ Conference Secretary, shared his family testimony of the positive difference an Adventist education can make. Barry Warren, TAA principal, shared how Adventist education literally saved his life. Elder Kent Sharpe, conference treasurer, led in a season of prayer.

My small part was simply eliciting the help of all the pastors present (and absent) in finding 30 "star students" in their church communities across the state, to enroll in Thunderbird. The conference administration made a bold statement in favor of making Adventist Education a conference priority, by appropriating $80,000 for new scholarships for students who want to benefit from an Adventist education, but have not been able to close the gap between the cost and their personal financial resources. This appropriation is not a permanent solution. It is a measure put in place in order to give the school to begin now towards making next school year the first year of many in which enrollment is no longer a problem when the school year begins. Mark Tamalea'a, TAA recruiter, will be leading a Phone-a-Thon beginning tonight, to raise even more funds to assist students. He is also committed to visiting every interested family. There is a three week window. It's a tall order, but it's doable if everyone is on beard.
Either way, there is an Education Board scheduled for tomorrow, and Executive Board on Thursday. It's exciting to be on the inside of decisions that will impact hundreds of lives for the Kingdom. Now there is one mandate I am not opposed to following every time. Pray for our schools!

Sunday, August 29, 2010

A Break in the Weather

After 59 days of temperatures above 100 degrees, there was finally a break in the weather pattern. Today the sky is overcast and the air is feels cool as a refreshing mist caresses my parched skin. The temperature is 69 degrees and I can almost feel an ocean breeze inside my room. I must confess that the change in the weather is probably due to the fact that I am in Rosarito, Baja California, Mexico, spending a day with my college sweetheart, Penny, overlooking the cool Pacific Ocean. I think I heard it was 153 degrees in Scottsdale yesterday.
Penny and I went to church yesterday in Garden Grove, California where we listened to Dan Smith preach the third installment in a three-part sermon series on Micah 6:8. Great thoughts and insights! We shared a meal at my daughter, Amanda's, and my son-in-law, Jeff's house. Then it was off with Janice, an international student, Amanda and Jeff, to Mexico to join up with my other two sons, Ruben, Jr. and Robert, my daughter-in-law, Janelle, and my two grandchildren, Elyse and Ruben, III. A two hour trip took most of four hours due to heavy traffic in Oceanside. Nonetheless, once we arrived we spent the late Sabbath afternoon on the beach, hunting for crabs and trying unsuccessfully to make a kite fly without any measurable wind. I followed my grandson around the beach as he dug holes and threw sand in all directions. I taught him to launch the sand clumps with his little shovel as high a he could to see if they would land on his head. He missed every time. I enjoyed a short one to one talk with my daughter, Amanda, while sitting on a rocky formation surrounded by crashing waves. We talked mostly about ministry and such.
Later that evening the whole family shared some fresh Italian food at a place called That's Amore. Very fresh and tasty. My Fettuccine Alfredo had more vegetables than pasta, for my taste...but Penny enjoyed my eating it. Spending a day with my family is wonderful, while it lasts. We had a lively discussion about Sabbath School teaching styles and religious intolerance. It reminded me of the Friday night gatherings at my house. It was great. Sadly, there is always the underlying reality that it is going to end much too soon. Pity party time...
In a late moment of reflection in the afterglow hours of the evening, I concluded that life, for now, is just that. Life this side of heaven is time granted us to share with our loved ones all the time knowing that it will essentially end much too soon. So I will treasure each and every moment. I will soak it in. And I will long for heaven, where the thoughts of separation will no longer apply.
I think I just heard a desert wind knocking on front door of the condo....gotta go. Duty calls.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Sabbath Delight

No Internet last night in my son's house in Riverside, where I am visiting my college sweetheart, Penny, for the weekend. I should have been expecting it, since it has been my lot for the past 20 years or so-- at my arrival I was greeted in her classroom with specific duties pertaining to 9 new students she would be receiving on Monday. She was in overdrive and sucked me in with the wake she was leaving behind. She will now have 29 first-graders, after the exchange of students has been completed.
We had a chance to see Barry and Edie, Penny's sister and her husband, and talked about everything but the reason we were there-- to check up on Barry, who has been having some heart problems. He seemed fine. He was as feisty as ever! Weddings at the condo? "If I'm in your way-- move!" Boat mechanics? "Get it right, or get another job!" (The previous statements were personal embellishments for dramatic effect-- but barely). We even laughed at pictures of the grandchildren. Dan and Rachael, Penny's sister and my cousin-- married to each other, who had also been our transportation to the Solomon House, played their son Joe's CD (Great CD-- get one ASAP! Joe Gil is his name-- his style is a bend of John Lennon and Paul Simon with some very personal and spiritual overtones). Rachael was showing us the beautiful pictures of her newest grandchild back East. My son, not to be outdone, pointed out via e-mail that the file he was set by his auntie Rachael did not have any of those beautiful pictures attached. He was kind enough to attach a picture of "his child" for everyone's delight and enjoyment. No one expected Ruben, Jr. to attach the picture of a screeching demon child, with pointy ears, no less. We all laughed at that! Good times on a Friday evening.
We closed the evening by visiting my in-laws, Quintin and Margarita. We had a good time with them as well. We watched some "Esperanza TV", I for the first time. (I've lived a very sheltered life!). My mother-in-law, Margarita, can spin a tale like no one else in the world. She enjoyed telling us of her exploits of yonder years.
Family and Sabbath are treasures beyond measure. Thank you, God! Happy Sabbath, everyone!

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Change is Coming--Slowly

Big day in the Arizona Conference. It was my first big meeting since I got here. It's not the first "big" meeting, but the first meeting where the agenda called for serious engagement and discussion.
In brief, the stage was set for a complete overhaul of the educational system in Arizona. Today was the first baby step--an important first step. Thunderbird Adventist Academy is the flagship school for the Arizona Conference. It has a long and storied history. But times have been tough for the last three or four year particularly. The school seemed to have weathered the worst of its financial and enrollment woes in the middle of the present decade. Nonetheless, the economy took a serious turn for the worse about three years ago and the State of Arizona did not escape.
The academy was hit hard and some very tough decisions were made in order to keep the school viable. In spite of recent trends, the school entered the summer with high hopes for the new school year. The optimism did not match the reality that struck the school on registration day and into the beginning of the school year. Having budgeted for 128 high school students, presently there are only 114, with two new students having enrolled in the past two days.
The shortfall translates into a budget deficit of over $270,000. Talk of cutbacks and reductions in force have been heard. There was an underlying sense of foreboding. While no one was standing pat there did not seem to be a solution that would rescue the school from its present state of affairs. One thing was certain; it was going to take quick and decisive intervention before the situation deteriorated further.
Today's Education Board was the culmination of some very serious discussions ranging from slashing tuition for all students to raising the $250,000 needed to ride out the storm. In the end it was voted that the conference would make available up to $80,000 of scholarships ($2000 for day students and $3000 for dorm students) to match up with locally raised funds to provide additional assistance for students around the conference. The numbers needed to meet budget are 22 dorms students or 36 village students. It is not an easy trail that lies ahead.
All pastors are being summoned on Monday night to be enlisted into a task that will require every conference stakeholder. There is a sense of excitement mixed with a healthy serving of anxiety. But there is movement. Although I readily admit the change was neither as much or as rapid as I would have hoped for, it is a beginning. The work, in earnest, begins immediately. This small step will bide the system some time to shift the entire paradigm. There are two more committees that will have to ratify today's decision this coming week, but I am ready to push the agenda because the stakes are high.
I am looking forward to seeing how God continues to move in Arizona. There is never a dull moment when God is leading. I may not be totally ready, but I am willing. Pray for the children.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

My Brush with Death in the Mid-day

In the midst of a very serious day at the office yesterday I found something to break the suffocating atmosphere. I did not plan it or anticipate it, but it certainly provided me a memorable moment.

It took place in the middle of the day (during the same hour of the mass demise of the atrium pond fish) when I came home for a reason I cannot recall at the moment. I entered the very warm abode that had remained empty since my early departure to the conference office for a day filled with history-changing decisions. The house was warm and humid- the perfect environment for lower forms of life. But my mind had not grasped such thoughts as I traipsed across the tiny living room of the duplex I call home. I was not prepared at all for what my eyes beheld when I turned the corner into the long hallway separating the dining room from the two bedrooms on the north side of the residence.
My first thought was, "I am sure glad Penny is not here to see this!" Actually that was the second thought that came to mind. The first was, "Aaaaargh! What in the world is that?" If I had to give it a name it would be a prehistoric cockroach on steroids-- with wings, a sort of Roachadactyl. I did not know roaches came in that size, although I recall a similar beast once upon a time in southern Texas. Thus, the Penny reference. Back then, she made a snap decision, on the spot, about the non-existent likelihood of relocating to Texas for me to take a job as Youth Director. I had no answer for her. The Texas roaches are enormous!
Back to the roach from Hades-- I did what any man would do when confronted with a life-threatening situation-- I froze. I contemplated the possibilities. Do I chance a confrontation with the monster? Do I run? Do I call 911? As I considered my options the creature began to make a run for it. I reacted out of instinct and moved to block its mad dash to the back room. It is all a blur now! The next thing I remember hearing was an awful crunch sound. I looked down and saw nothing. My heart paused for a fleeting moment as I looked around the hall for the deranged mutant insect. I saw nothing. I concluded that Roachzilla was hiding under my size 11 Sketchers.
And so it was that I slipped off my shoe so as not to risk the possibility that the roach had one last fight left in him (I could tell "he" was a "he" by his tiny little blue roach army boots). I scurried into the bathroom and unrolled a half pound of TP (tissue paper is the appropriate euphemism). I gently lifted the shoe making sure not to disturb the beast now melded to the sole of my shoe. It was dazed, but I was certain it was only a temporary condition. I quickly suffocated it under a wave of tissue and carried it carefully to deposit it into a twirling watery grave. I watched it enter the one way liquid tunnel of no return. I flushed a second time just to make sure it did swim back up-stream from Commodeland. The duplex was again safe, but Camelot was now dead-- forever!
I am glad I got that off my chest. It was sort of cathartic. I'm sure glad Penny was not here. Hope she never finds out.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Death in the Pond! Death in the Pond!

It's late Tuesday night and I am restless. I am restless and will remain restless for a while since I have not gone to sleep yet due to the fact that I have to write this blog before I go to bed! I better get to it.
Tragedy struck today in the middle of the day at the Arizona Conference Corporation of Seventh-day Adventist headquarters in Scottsdale, Arizona. Yes, you heard me right-- Arizona! All seemed normal after a late breakfast. Most of the office staff left for lunch not knowing that death was lurking in the shadows. And like an unwelcomed intruder that finds entrance uninvited, so it was that while most of us were enjoying lunch with friends dozens of victims were felled in a matter of minutes. The count will never be determined with total clarity, but the crime scene was horrific.
The sad thing is that nobody noticed the scene even upon returning from lunch. The victims were floating on the surface of the water in our atrium pond without notice until someone glanced in the pond and immediately called for help-- too late. The culprit was long gone and only the crime scene remained. Investigators came and took water samples and cleared the pond of all the bodies. White victims, black victims, orange victims-- oh the humanity!
The fish that I had mentioned in passing as the only competition for the majestic Ficus were all dead. Suddenly! Mysteriously! Only the bottom-feeding, slime-sucking catfish survived the aquatic grim reaper.
And so death visited the peaceful and quiet offices that are unaccustomed to such events. There were tears shed, moments of silence and contemplation. There remain more questions than answers for the moment. Did someone come during lunch and slip a mickey in the water? Did the mighty Ficus deposit some toxic secretion from its debris? Was there a Jim Jones guppy leading the watery lemmings to a mass self-demise? Did they believe there was a sea-ship waiting to wisp them away to another world? Is this a precursor to the last vestiges of the Mayan calendar-- 2012? Global warming? Obamacare? The Tea Party?
I don't know what to make of it, to be quite honest. In the big scheme of things it's a blip. But to some people it was a true loss. They were invested in the fish! They fed them. They cared for them. They visited them. That's investment. The level of investment corresponds directly to the level of effort you put in to the object or objects of your investment. And it hurts when loss comes-- and it does to all. I guess there’s a lesson in there somewhere! I must get to sleep-- enough of being restless. Just as long as I don't have to sleep with the fishies....

The Ficus Crisis and Thensome

It was only 108 degrees today. Tomorrow promises to be a bit warmer with thunderstorms arriving on Wednesday. The news around the office revolved around the intervention needed to rescue the conference atrium tree from imminent collapse. One day it was growing, tall and robust, to the admiration of all visitors who came to conference office. Then suddenly half the tree began to sag terribly and was in danger of breaking off and possibly causing the permanent demise of the entire tree. The tree doctors were summoned immediately and were supposed to arrive expeditiously and intervene on Thursday. The day came and went without any intervention other than a couple of makeshift straps and sticks put in place possibly by office personnel and intended to delay the inevitable.
The office is closed on Fridays. No intervention took place over the weekend, since the tree doctors honor the conference schedule. The tree was on its own for Sabbath and Sunday. It obviously rested on Sabbath. When we arrived on Monday morning we were startled to see tree resemble a weeping willow and not the proud Ficus tree that once stood in its place. It had obviously been praying since Sabbath. Half the tree was now languishing and listing to one side. The branches were actually resting on the floor as if it had been kneeling on its own behalf. I was concerned the tree was beyond help.
The tree intervention specialists arrived suddenly during the morning worship time for the office staff. They got to work immediately and worked for a considerable amount of time. They put down some wooden stakes. They pounded in some metal stakes. They trimmed. They tied down certain sections of the tree to the stakes. Week branches were secured to others stronger ones. The trunk that had sagged under its own weight was strapped to its twin trunk that was still standing straight.
By late morning the tree looked totally different. It looked majestic and strong. It once again became the main attraction of the atrium. (There are the baby fish that suddenly arrived last week, but you have to actually look for those little black beauties behind the rock reef in the fish pond.) You can't miss the Ficus tree! Yes, the straps and the stakes can be seen, like a labyrinth of metal, rubber, wood, and hope. But the tree had been saved!
I don't know how everyone missed the signs of deterioration before it got to such a critical state. Once the collapse took place the comments regarding what should have been done were many. Yet nothing was done until the tree went into shock. There's a lesson in there somewhere. In fact, there are some very intentional decisions regarding Thunderbird (and the entire Adventist educational system) that will have to take place soon that will require "out of the box" thinking and bold action. They probably should have taken place long before-- before the system began to list under its own weight. The intervention will not be conventional. Conventional wisdom is not enough. Prayerful and visionary decisions are needed. It will be the only intervention that will shock the system back into homeostasis (my word of the day). Nonetheless it will be exciting to see how the intervention will develop and how the results will unfold. I'm excited about the possibilities. Stay tuned to this developing story. Back to work! Keep on praying!

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Looking for Homes in All the Wrong Places

A great weekend ended quite sadly. First, I’ll share the good news. Penny came home for the weekend. Our kindred spirits had been pried apart by circumstance for five days. Not an ideal situation at all, but it's what it is for the time being.
Penny's arrival came at the end of a great week that provided me the opportunity to share a Week of Prayer Light (Wednesday through to Friday) with the kids at Thunderbird Academy. Connecting with kids is my calling. I fear losing total contact with the ones I believe God has called me to serve. God gave me a reminder this week of why I am here. Just a taste. Friday gave me a triple helping, though: 2 services with the high school kids and one elementary worship service sandwiched in-between. It was great leading song service with the elementary kids. So much energy!
I would have preached at Thunderbird on Sabbath, except I had already committed to preach at the Peoria-Sun Cities SDA Church. That was a change of pace, but it was a great opportunity. I got to see Jim and Bonnie Heinrich (from Orangewood days long ago!). That was awesome. Bonnie seemed happy to see me. She gave me a big hug! I reacquainted myself with Les Park, the 1st principal of Orangewood Academy. He is story-teller par excellence. Penny and I had the opportunity to make new friends at the Snarr's home. We ate tasty food while laughing and sharing. After lunch Phil Draper volunteered me to sing to the group by myself and then with his wife Joey, who has a great voice. I felt honored and very inadequate. In the end, it was a great afternoon!
Sunday was not the highlight of the weekend, except for breakfast at the Good Egg Restaurant. Too much food! Too much good stuff! Penny ordered something healthy. I made up for her temperance. Their full stack of pancakes is a full stack of pancakes. I had enough carbohydrates for the week! My stomach was not happy.
The rest of the day only deteriorated after that. The only good thing is that Penny was a part of it. On the other hand we spent the afternoon traveling all over the city of Phoenix looking for housing. The houses were not even close to being something we would enjoy living in. No tub in one. Smokers in the next. One house has a great back yard but the inside was like a playhouse with furniture and facilities that looked like they had been rescued from a swap meet. And that was before the owner showed us the caved-in garage roof and the non-working garage door opener! One house needs a full time maintenance worker to bring it up to par. It was hard to keep going, but we were in the realtor's car. Mercifully, the list of homes was finite.
Sadly, less than an hour remained before I had to take Penny back to the airport to return to Riverside for the week. I saw her off with her mini-backpack and her gargantuan handbag that requires two people to carry. She threw it over her shoulder with much effort. I don't know how the plane was able to take off with the bag on board. I am not surprised that Penny told me her hands hurt when she got back to California. It a wonder her hands were not snapped at the wrist!
Not a good Sunday when all is said and done. I don't see the need to find a house other than the one Penny and I share already stretched between two states. Where our hearts come together-- that's our home. So...who needs a house when you already have a home?

Thursday, August 19, 2010

In the Most Unexpected Places

Life on the Surface of the Sun continues to sizzle. Did I say the surface of the Sun, I meant in the Valley of the Sun. There is little difference, except for the 91 million miles that separate them. Little else. Of course I have never been on the surface of the moon, but I've read it's pretty hot! It's pretty hot here, too. I rest my case.
There was a last minute change of plans today. My calendar told me I needed to be in Tucson, for the second time in two days, for a school board meeting at the Desert Valley elementary school. I discovered, however, there was a conflict between that meeting and another board meeting at the Glenview school, located in the city of Glendale, Arizona. I had already attended a school board meeting at the Desert Valley school last month, so I called and let them know that I would be attending the Glenview board meeting and, while there, perhaps convince them to change their board dates to ones that would not conflict with their sister school.
As it became clear during the meeting, this date was an exception to the regularly scheduled date (as will be September and December). But all is well, their regularly scheduled dates for their board meeting do not conflict with any other school. Even the exceptions for two of the following months do not conflict either. That alone would have made my evening a profitable one. But something else happened that reminded me that there is something bigger at play here-- a force and will beyond our puny human musings. Providence continues to invade our predictable and mundane routines. Let me explain.
Last week had dawned on the small Glenview Adventist Academy, a hold-over name from a failed attempt to become a twelve grade school a few years ago. The school was established in 1936 and the buildings wear the years like a badge of honor. The wear and tear is visible inside and outside the school. But most people would perhaps agree that a school is more than the buildings and furniture-- the kids are the ones that make the school beautiful. This is true. The problem, quite apparent to all those involved with the school, is that was a severe lack of students leading into the first week of school. The very conservative budget had been set the previous year at 80 students. Late in the week there were only 60 students, with little hope of additional arrivals. The theme was prevalent- finances. The school is located in a largely lower income, ethnically diverse community. The church has shifted away from the years when many affluent members filled the pews. It now depends on many less wealthy members to carry the load of the school. There is a high level of commitment. It gets worse and then better.
The school owes close to $300,000 dollars to the conference due to a failed experiment in virtual classes. Bad News! The church has offered to take over the debt and pay it off little by little. Good News! But there is more.
Remember the enrollment figures? Well the teachers decided they were not just going to resign themselves to the lower figures. The first thing they decided to do was to pray and dedicate every room on campus to God and His vision for the school. Good News! They literally spent hours on campus-- all of the teachers, praying and weeping over the students that would grace those rooms. Great News! On Sabbath they went out to the churches and spoke to parents. They spoke to potential donors. They talked the vision of the school. Awesome News!
As of today’s school board report, they have 79 students and possibly more. Incredible News! Moreover, they had a random lady (newly baptized) inquired if there were students with special financial needs. The school treasurer mentioned two families. Their need totaled $1900. The generous lady left $2000 dollars and requested the other $100 be used to help someone else. Fantabulous News! Sort of reminds you that miracles still take place when people pray and people are open to the leading of God's spirit. It's going to take many more of these stories to bring back the system from the brink. I am delighted to be part of the journey back! It's cooled down considerably since I started this blog tonight. I think the thermometer just slid downward past 100. Time for some hot chocolate!

Heart Ache in Tucson

The thermometer reached 110 degrees (dry heat) today in beautiful Phoenix, Arizona. I escaped the heat. I drove to Tucson for a school board meeting. It was only 102 degrees (with humidity). Oh, well. I'll be back on Thursday for another board meeting in the other school on the north side of town,
I began an unexpected Week of Prayer at Thunderbird Academy. Yes, it was Wednesday. That's right. Weeks of Prayer begin on Wednesday here at Thunderbird. It's Week of Prayer Light, I guess. The story behind such a scenario is that they couldn't get pastors to come for an entire week, so they had to shorten it to accommodate the pastors' crowded schedules. We know about the pastors' crowded schedules! No comment...(although I sense the previous sentence qualifies as a comment...).
I had some extra time after my arrival in Tucson (I left early to beat the afternoon traffic out of Phoenix). I stopped and ate at The Cracker Barrel. I had heard good things about the food at The Cracker Barrel. I ordered the biggest thing on their menu. I felt my arteries hardening with every spoonful. It was a heart attack on a plate! It was dripping with melted cholesterol. Sadly, it wasn't that good. I survived, but I will not likely ever go back.
My heart aches for Penny. On the other hand, it may just be Cracker Barrel working its way through my system. Good night!

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Rainy Days and Tuesdays

My desertion continues. At least my grandkids are not mimicking my sons' reprise of last month, "You've ruined everything!" They meant well...I think. Here I am, still in the Arizona desert, albeit on a rainy Tuesday evening.
Today Penny was too tired to Skype after my late departure from the TAA school board meeting. They are down 20 dorm students. Of little comfort that other boarding academies are faring worse-- the fact is that there is need for immediate intervention and serious measures to salvage the well-being of the school and avoid severe cuts in the program.
I am even more tired than I was when I left the board meeting. I ran 2 miles today. This is a major accomplishment since I have not been able to find the time to regularly run. I must be a sight to the young kids around campus. I wear dark shorts and a bright orange shirt. I must appear like a low-flying blimp or a circus bear running away from his handlers. I don't really care tonight. Even the warm summer rain falling on my head did not dissipate my exhaustion from the running or my gloomy spirit from my Skype-less evening. Oh well, there is tomorrow.
I begin a mini-week of prayer tomorrow at TAA. I still get more than a bit uneasy after all these years when I am about to begin a Week of Prayer at a new church or academy. I will have to trust that God will intervene (as with Balaam's donkey) and work a miracle as HE has many times before.
Spread the word... pray for Thunderbird! While you're at it, pray for all the church schools scheduled to open or that are already open. There are challenges everywhere.

The Great Esc-Skype

Long day. Piles of paperwork. I fear I will never catch up. In the midst of the mountains of main, landfills of letters, copious contracts, and a preponderance of promos for everything from the latest curriculum to an appeal for funds from the schools for a project in some far-off country, there is an unexpected encounter with a seminary classmate from back in the mid-80s (ouch!). Earl is working as a chaplain for a couple of hospitals in the greater Phoenix area. It was nice to reconnect.
The highlight of the day was my first Skype session with Penny. As you probably know, Penny and I are separated. We are separated by 350 miles of mostly arid desert expanses which lie between Scottsdale, Arizona, where I have the home base of my work for the Arizona Conference, and Riverside, California, where she works her labor of love for the Alvord Unified School District. I give copious "props" to my son, Robert, who guided my lovely wife through the process of the Skype set-up. I, of course, am well-versed in the intricacies of technology. Robert had done his work, all that remained was my connecting, which I accomplished with tacit aplomb (I am not sure those two words go together, but they seem meant for each other). It didn't work. I discovered it was important to push the actual turn on video button to make the connection complete. Go figure!
The recompense for our joint efforts paid off as I was rewarded with a digital reconstruction of my beloved's countenance on my computer screen. Oh, the bliss. I had not beheld her radiant smile for over twenty-four hours! We talked. We tinkered with the Sykpe buttons (disconnected a couple times). Mostly we just looked into each other's digital eyes and marveled at the technology that will be our lifeline over the next nine months.
In truth it leaves much to be desired, but it's better than the alternative. I will have to live for the weekends when either she will fly here or I will drive there. They say that the heart grows fonder when there is distance between-- we will be testing the validity of that premise. For now, we will have to settle for our evening virtual dates-- our Esc-Skype from the reality of our intermittent separation.
On a post-script, please pray for Thunderbird Academy. They need, in brief, more students. The economy is hitting them particularly hard. Many prospective students are out there. There does not seem to be enough money to make their enrollment possible. Plans are in motion to secure some additional funds to help.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Sunday Night Contemplation

I am sitting at my home desk after a 5 hour plus trip from Riverside to Scottsdale. I am beginning to acclimatize myself to the trip. I believe it's my fourth trip already between California and Arizona in a little more than a month.
There was a memorial service for my wife's uncle Ramon in San Diego on Friday. I wrote the life sketch for the program. I played the piano while the family and guests were arriving at the Chula Vista SDA Church. I sang "It is Well with My Soul" with my daughter Amanda. I had the memorial homily. And I also said grace for the potluck prepared after the service was completed. I would say I was quite involved in the service. I was honored. I did not know Penny's uncle that well. I learned more about him in the hour service than I had known in the 31 years of marriage to Penny. Interesting how that can happen. It is sad how you can whittle a man's life down to a few paragraphs. It doesn't seem right.
Now I am home alone for the work week. It's the first time in a while that I have spent that much time away from Penny. Penny was sharing with me yesterday how difficult it has been for her to adjust to my independent personality. This is not a compliment. The truth hurts at times. I was raised to become independent-- to survive. Such independence does not serve to create close bonds as a child, and so I didn't. It served me well while scarring me at the same time. I prided myself on my professional ability to remain calm and detached in any circumstance.
Then Penny arrived on the scene. She has changed everything. Little by little she has chipped away at my detached facade. With the arrival of each of my three children, followed by my two grandchildren, it would seem that my heart has thawed considerably. I can truly say that Penny is the first person I ever loved. Period. My love had been very imperfect along the way, but it was the best I knew how to give.
Memorial services tend to make me introspective. It forces me to contemplate the finite nature of life and ponder the question, "How will I be remembered when I am gone?" I want to be known in the end for the love I lived and the grace I gave freely. The one who is graced much graces much. I have a way to go.
Truth be told, I miss Penny immensely-- independence notwithstanding!

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Thank you, Lenny

This entry is a bit late since I have not blogged for over a week. I am so sorry my failure to blog has so disappointed the hordes of readers hanging on every word that appears on this exclusive blog.
It's been a couple of weeks since I found myself in the company of a motley crew of weekend golfers on the Mountain Course of Rancho Moreno Valley Golf Club. It was a day like many others before. Many prior days such as this Sunday morning began with a similar sense of anticipation only to end in a condition of angst that golfers alone are familiar with. Golf is a lot like a flirtatious and wicked woman (not that I am personally acquainted with such a member of the fairer gender). Golf draws you in with the promise of enjoyment and ecstasy. Once you are lured into the mirage of lush green gardens and velvety carpets of putting greens her deception becomes clear. It may not happen on the first or second hole; it may not happen during the "front nine." But it will happen. The game will humiliate you and cause you to wonder why you ever believed her lie! The public spectacle of a man self-destructing is comical and uncomfortable at the same time. You want to turn away out of respect for the victim, but you can't help watch, just in case spontaneous combustion consumes the ill-fated sap who thought he would be the one to survive unscathed.
I am no exception. My sons and their less-than-credible witnesses, Andrew and Joseph, find particular enjoyment in sharing the legends of alleged incidents that may resemble the previous paragraph. There are colorful stories, each told with more embellishment each time they are repeated, about flying clubs, deadly golf balls flying as purposeful projectiles aimed at unsuspecting playing partners, and even times when a frustrated participant in this infernal game (who resembles me) has stormed off the 18th green in a heightened state of disgust sufficient to allegedly cause them to fear for their personal safety. The truth is that there have been occasional moments sprinkled generously across the tapestry of my golfing moments when I have misplaced my sense of personal enjoyment and thus provided the fertile ground in which these convoluted narratives have flourished. That would change on this day-- and I will never be the same.
I was having a typical day on the golf course-- an occasional par (a pleasant experience) negated by the abundant bogies (not a good thing) and double-bogies (worse than the previous), not to mention the undesirable triple-bogey and worse (you can imagine the feelings associate with those scores). Two foursomes were playing back to back, one following the other along the course. The second group consisted of Joe, Michael, and Lenny. My group consisted of Ruben, Jr. (my son), Robert (my son), Ruben, III (my grandson), and me (of course). The littlest Ruben had his own miniature golf bag with a pigmy-sized set of clubs to use on certain occasions that afforded him the opportunity to swing mightily or putt carefully. You would think I would be having the time of my life, but in truth, the day was not going very well for me. I was trying to control myself since I was in the presence of my grandchild. The superhuman effort it was taking to control the personal disgust at my level of play was beginning to eat through the lining of my intestinal walls. Then came Lenny.
It was about the 15th hole, which is only relevant since the lion's share of the round was almost over. Lenny came over in his own indomitable fashion and cozied himself next to me as my sons were standing on the tee box ready to drive the ball. My ball had already sailed far into the distance but nowhere near the intended fairway. He had a smile that seemed almost comical as it stretched his face outward as if begin tugged from behind. "What's he smiling about?" I thought to myself, in a moment of self-pity. "You must be having the time of your life, huh?” He asked. I wanted to punch him just for asking the question. "It must be awesome." he continued. "Leave me alone." I uttered under my breath, "Yeah." I responded out loud without a hint of conviction. "To be able to be out here playing with your sons and your grandson," he went on without noticing my disdain. "That has got to be awesome!" He smiled and went along his merry way back to his group, where I believe he was trailing badly. I was left ponder his words.
I am a different man since that very moment. I looked at my boys who do everything they can to annoy me on the golf course-- it's a sport to them. I am the proudest father in the world. I would terribly miss their pestering. I looked at my grandson who was making monkey sounds and hanging from the handles on the side of the golf cart. How blessed am I? How many other dads would not give every last possession for a moment to enjoy with their estranged sons? Yet here they were. They are not estranged. They invited me to play a round of golf with them!
Then there was my grandson-- a small package of energy and curiosity that can try a saint. But there he was providing me opportunities to laugh and make mental memories others will never have the opportunity to see or enjoy with their grandchildren. "What's wrong with me?" I screamed internally. I took inventory and everything changed on that tee box.
I have had bad drives and bad chips since then-- but in the big scheme of things, who cares? I am with my boys! I am enjoying the sunshine and the company of those I love most. Life is too short and moments of sheer joy too rare to waste them away because of negativity-- regardless of whether the cause of it is internal or external. Every day is a gift. Every moment is a treasure. Every second is a joy.
Thank you, Lenny!

Monday, August 2, 2010

A Grand Experience II

Month two has begun in my new life in Arizona. I disabled the touch pad on my computer since it was responsible for my near mental breakdown after my almost completed blog on August one was erased with two quick steps, neither of which I remember performing. I had suspected my over-sensitive touch pad was the culprit in many previous editorial mishaps, but I had been unsuccessful in finding a solution. My new friend Jason, Director of Literature Evangelism for the Arizona Conference of SDA, who happens to be computer fanatic, resolved my problem in a few quick keyboard touches-- amazing!
Yesterday I had waxed elephants about my trip to the red majesty of Sedona and the awesome visual assault that is the Grand Canyon. The Superintendent's Retreat was an unforgettable experience, for more reasons than I care to include in this blog. New friends were made. Extraordinary scenes were soaked in (it was steadily sprinkling during our Grand Canyon expedition). While at the "big hole in the ground," as my new friend Dave (superintendent in central California) and I referred to it after we had stopped for the umpteenth time to view the expanse from yet another perspective at the request of his conversationally-gifted wife, Rosa. I saw The Canyon from places I had never been to before and one place I should not have attempted to be at-- ever. But attempt I did.
It was Temptation Rock, at least to me it was. It was there, inviting me to experience it and its unique allure. It offered me an experience I had never experienced before. I could see life from a totally different perspective. The rock was there with is siren song drawing me to climb. I did not resist. I climbed down into the abyss and followed another pilgrim (Dave, who I sense was trying to escape his silence-challenged spouse) through a path not sojourned by many others before. He seemed able to enter and maneuver his way through passes that were not there for one of such muscular girth as I. I had to find another more challenging path. It was in that process that I had a moment of clarity, perhaps as others who were also having a serious face to face encounter with their sense of mortality. A voice inside me told me to turn back. It whispered, "Don't do it!" I wondered if I should have listened when I found myself clinging to a narrow sliver of slate trying to coax my shuttering limbs to exceed their ability and raise me to the plateau that offered me the satisfaction I so desired. I vacillated between life and death. I slithered to the top with my knees taking the brunt of my efforts.
But oh, the view! It was reserved for the few headstrong survivors willing to risk it all for the moment. I was on top of the world. I could see the promised land-- not quite, but I could see the Colorado River in both directions and the North Rim in all its afternoon glory. I will never forget the view.
Then I had to climb down...and up again. Only I knew (until now) how close I came to becoming a footnote in the annals of Grand Canyon lore, together with the Hydes, who thought it a great idea to raft down the untamed Colorado River on their honeymoon in the late 19th century. Their boat drifted down the river-- they were never found again. After all is said and done, I would just as well blog it myself.