in case you missed it...

I like posting the little videos of our work in Mexico, Kenya, Los Angeles and of course in Riverside. It's fun to track how many people watch them each day- a few recently breached the 1,000 views threshold- my total video views are approaching 20,000.

Chump change on the net. Yahoo put together the above video summarizing the years top viewed internet videos- billions of views in the US alone... BILLIONS! I don't watch many internet videos other than the ones I make, a little egocentric but who's got the time? Apparently millions of people in the US alone... so I enjoyed catching up on what the rest of the nation had clued into last year. Hope you enjoy it as well.

Any time you want to check out my videos on YAHOO, just go to this link and you can see them all. They chronicle much of our work together and always bring back great memories of life changing times around the world. God is too good.

blessings,

Eric

all I want for Christmas

Debi and Christina - Christmas, 2007

Christina "Petunia." That's what Debi always called her when she lived at Siempre. Her young mother was in the crisis of her teen years when in tears and heartbreak she left her only daughter with us... signed away her birth certificate, entrusting her to our care.

We all fell in love. Christina's a very special kid: cute, charismatic, loved by everyone and always quick with just the right word to say... the kind of kid who could be president of Mexico some day. When her mom showed up pregnant again, now married, and wanting her back over a year later, heartbreak- and hope -moved throughout the household.

Debi and I spent our Christmas day driving across Tijuana at sunset with Alejandro and his family looking for Christina's new home, fearing the worse, hoping for the best. God answers prayer. Her mom, now 20, is fantastic and is married to a hard working young man. There's a new little brother- a cute guy -and the family recently received the gift of a home built especially for them, a cute litte 400 sq ft bungalow, by a local Christian ministry. Christina had all she wanted for Christmas... all any abandoned child wants for Christmas... to be home with her family- safe, secure and loved.

Her step dad's paying for school, she loves her new teacher, she's gaining weight, and before we left her grandmother and uncle stopped in with Christmas gifts. It was all Debi and I wanted for Christmas- to see that she's doing well, that she's safe, warm and loved. Sitting at the border for almost two hours waiting to get back into the states, we didn't complain- some things are worth the wait.

Siempre, it means always... when a child's given into our care, we plan for life... and when something wonderful happens... something we're not prepared for, like a mom getting her life in order and desperately needing her daughter back- we want to be ready -to continue to lend support and love as a family begins to build new hopes and dreams. We left with warm embraces against the cold night, well after sunset, Christina's family thanking us and inviting us to return whenever we could. It was just what we'd wanted for Christmas- just to see that all was well -with our own eyes, and God gave us the desires of our heart.

I hope you had a fantastic Christmas and received more than you ever imagined in the day. May these final days of 2007 be filled with miracles and wonders as we prepare for the year to come.

blessings,

Eric

just a taste

An incredible time on the streets Sunday night serving with Jackets for Jesus on skidrow. It was our 19th Christmas in the heart of the city and God blessed it in ways we could have never imagined that first frightening night on the streets almost 1,000 Sundays ago. God's taught us so much, we've made so many amazing friends and we've been given the opportunity to serve that no one deserves. God is too good.

A couple hundred of us celebrated in the serving last week while nearly 900 men, women and children received backpacks filled in love. I only got a couple shots on the streets... some video before the packs were in the truck... this is it... just a small taste of our evening. enjoy!

Eric

Buy a Kid a Rug

Here's a link to buy braided rugs at K-Mart for $20- off.

The plan was to go get two $9.99 rugs and walk out with a couple cents in my pocket... didn't work. But the rugs are cool and buy 3 for $30- and you'll only pay $10- or get the bigger one for $24.99 for Alejandro and Aracelys and pay only $5- bucks. Or go buy one for yourself.

Our first year of our children's home in TJ we learned that carpets don't work: dirt, fleas, punch... you name it. But winter time tile and concrete floors can be cold on kids feet when they jump out of bed. Saw this coupon and thought we could all pitch in and take a bunch for free. K-Mart's on to cheap guys like me and it's not free... but pretty cheap. Check it out.

keep a kid's feet warm for Christmas!

blessings,

Eric

always on my mind...

Denton Family Photo - September 10, 2004 - Dad's 90th Birthday

Opened one of those long Christmas letters from old friends last night and sat down to read up on what's been going on with their family in the last year. They're forever frozen in the mid-nineties in my mind... yet life has moved on... they've lived in several different states, added three children to their family and earned enough stories to easily fill a three page Christmas letter that must have been difficult to edit: knowing what to add and what to leave out. Each year their little missile keeps us feeling somewhat connected, though we're now miles and newly added experiences apart.

Learning to play the guitar, the two of them once sat in my office, long before kids and new careers and he played the guitar as she sang an old song I'd been fighting the chords to find. His fingers laid them down with ease and deliberation- showing me each move, allowing me to follow along. She lifted her voice in grace with words that haunt my heart from that sweet Willie Nelson ballad: Always On My Mind.

Reading their new adventures, learning the growing lives of their children, absorbing their stories of intentional living for Christ- one lovely moment together wouldn't let me go- a singular segment of time I doubt they'd remember... and the faces of so many I'd loved filled my heart... bits and pieces of the song came back to me, "little things we'd said and done. I just never found the time- but you were always on my mind... you were always on my mind."

We've been blessed, they're two among so many. I'm closely related to most the folks in the photo above, many whom I haven't had contact with since the photo was taken three years ago. Add to that the great number of family not in the photo and multiply it by the amazing number of people who've loved us like family- who we rarely see any longer and like the friends in the Christmas letter are now far from us and it still doesn't even number all those we see day in and day out, week in and week out, who we love so deeply and love us wonderfully, yet we never find the time... but you are always on my mind. We're so blessed.

At the bottom of our friends Christmas letter, not hand written in, just part of the print that went to everyone, the closing salutation read simply, "missing you." It struck a chord. I knew exactly how they felt... to everyone we love, missing you. To all those who've loved us and keep us in their thoughts and prayers: missing you. To family far and near this Christmas, missing you... to those no longer with us: Uncle Glenn, Uncle John, Gary, Gerald, Ed, Villora... so many more each Christmas... missing you... but you are always on my mind.

To live with intention... I think one of the first changes I'd make is to begin to find the time; to hand write that note of love, to make that phone call, to stop in and visit, to sit down together for a meal, to break the barrier that's kept us apart, to reach across the schedules and miles, "while today is still called today" and reconnect in love. "Little things you've said and done" like playing guitars and singing together in the office... have not, could never slip by unnoticed.

I went to bed with so many of you on my heart. Woke up at 2:30 and needed to write... the picture of my family is just the beginning of so many we love... so many as we approach Christmas who are in our thoughts deeply... so many of our friends captured in two simple words for this season: "missing you."

Missing you this morning. Praying that God sweetly surrounds you with His presence and comfort and that you know you're loved... that you're not alone this Christmas.

missing you,

Eric

ps
song of the day... not too tough to figure out... try playing it on your guitar. Wish I could hear Scott and Terri sing it again.

Late Night Thoughts On Going Fast

LOVE the Blue Angels. When I was a kid- in the '60's -they would occasionally practice out of Los Alamitos Naval Air Base off Katella. We lived on the border of OC in Long Beach and by the time those guys were up, they were out over our house. Don't know if it was because we grew up on El Dorado Golf Course and there was plenty of open space, but somedays they'd fly all day long, working on routine after routine to the great delight of every kid for miles around. We'd climb up on the garage roof and howl each time they broke the sound barrier- every house in the neighborhood had cracks in the plaster walls and it wasn't all that uncommon for a window to break. Vietnam was in full gear- 500,000 young Americans at war -body counts beyond heartbreak... Skip from around the corner was killed... nobody was worried about keeping the Blue Angels in check. They were artists at work.

Now I live not too many miles from March Air Base in Riverside, CA. We've watched the Stealth fly in and out, seen Air Force 1 sit on the tarmac, caught the Thunderbirds numerous times and were even buzzed by the B-1 once, pilot tipped his wings just as they fell back and he exploded from what seemed to be a couple hundred feet off the ground into orbit... all very cool. But nothing to compare to summer days with a bunch of kids coming into our yard, onto our garage roof- no houses to block the view over the park - and standing in awe as the Blue Angels went by in formation... I swear we could see the pilots waving... it was huge when they'd tip their wings down toward us kids... each of us imagining we were in the jet. When the sound barrier would shatter the skies we'd cover our ears and cheer. May be one reason I've got such lousy hearing.

When I fly it's in the comfort of a comercial jet: bad food, movies and my laptop are expected. The only time I flew out of Los Alamitos Naval Air Station was with a friend who took me soaring. We were powerless, silently sailing in the wind for less than ten minutes before touch down. It was sweet... but it sure wasn't the Blue Angels. Last time I remember hearing the sound barrier being shattered, I was with my family at Edwards Air Force Base for a shuttle landing. It's two signature booms shattered high thin clouds, leaving ripples in the sky like a stone in a pond. An image that's always stuck.

Kids, hanging out in the summer, we never equated the Blue Angels with the war. It didn't occur to us that the smog that filled the skies of Long Beach and burned our lungs on bike rides might be filled with jet exhaust. And the impact of shattered sound barriers- well that was just cooler than cool -who cared if it knocked down a house or two. We weren't exactly environmentalist... we were dreaming of going fast, flying high, wing tip to wing tip in tight formation with our friends. Hopefully we've matured a bit in the last four decades. But watching this video that crossed my laptop, old memories flooded through me like cleansing rain and the kid inside me wanted to go fast again... or at least stand on the roof and howl with my buddies at the guys living and flying our dreams.

Late night thoughts on going fast... on looking backwards... on glory days... The guys flying the jets were probably just ten or twelve years older than me, if that. Somewhere, if any of them are awake tonight, they're looking back on that summer with a view from the skies and I can't help but wonder if they smile, or even remember the kids who looked up in wonder from the old garage roof and cheered them on. Thanks guys. We were wishing it was us. Sometimes I still do.

Christmas Begins with a Decision

istockphoto.com is a great resouce for art when you're looking for something just a little different than the everyday free stuff online. Bought this nice piece of art for this weeks message there. Making the most of it and using it on the blog as well.

Upside- plenty of high quality graphics in just about any format. Downside- they're not free, not expensive, but definitely not free.

Hard not to envy the pastor who approaches Christmas, or any message for that matter, with a staff person in charge of setup and design... must be cool. But, if your working environment requires you to learn to do your own design- they're a bunch of really good sites with some excellent art and it's all a whole lot cheaper than even the workman's comp for the extra staff. Struggle is, everyone has to live with less than pro graphics... not to mention the extra time and learning curve.

Text in this mid-Thanksgiving- pre-advent weekend is Isaiah 9:6- "For unto us a child is born. Unto us a son is given." Talking about beginning Christmas with a decision. You can listen in to the message at Central Community's Media page.

Looking forward to celebrating Christmas in the days to come- I like the focus on one very special day in our spiritual life -it's a good thing.

Merry Christmas!

Eric

Check out the song of the day on the side bar - a little "belief" music from Dan Hicks and his Hot Licks... and you can never get too much of that!

Black Friday Toys

Hit Best Buy this morning, not early, nothing crazy... list in hand, hoping to score a few fun toys on sale. Picked up a couple of gigs of ram for my laptop- installed it myself... a few videos... micro SD card (2G) and a 4G flash card. Also did a little impulse buying- bought a HDTV USB tuner, again for the laptop. I'd owned one before but returned it for poor performance- with the price lowered to $39- for the weekend, they got me again.

The clip of the game above is the first thing I recorded- unforntuanately, for me, I turned off the game and messed with the software... stupid... ended up being a great game... maybe an all time college highlight... and LSU provided joy for the season in Arkansas.

Me, I made the guys at Best Buy just a little happier.

Hope your day after the holiday was an easy one. That you were able to rest, shop, relax, watch a game, a movie, dork around with your computer... whatever it is that makes you happy... the Christmas Season is upon us... 2007 is down to days, not months or weeks. I plan on making the most of the rest of 2007. Hope to share some of it with you... when I'm not messing around with my laptop!

enjoy the song of the day - a good song every day!

How to Cook the Perfect Turkey

Wash your hands and get to it!
Rinse the fresh or completely thawed turkey thouroughly- run some water through both ends. Make sure you've removed the neck- up front - and the giblets and heart, in a little white bag, out the back. Do with them as you please: the neck's ok for soup stock- put a some water on the stove in a large pan, throw the neck in and let it boil...add more water throughout the day, salt and pepper, season creatively, toss in all the cool veggies you can think of. The giblets you can sautee for dressing, toss into broth on the stove, feed them to the neighborhood cat, throw them away.

Get your roasting pan ready- I reccomend the good foil ones you can get for a buck or two at any local market. Put a quarter cup of water in the bottom of the pan and a bit of vegetable oil. Put the turkey in the pan- good old traditional breast up, or go if you cooked a number of turkeys, or are just feeling a bit risque, put the thing in breast down- the thought is with the breast down, they never need basting and remain moist. Pour more vegetable oil over turkey and rub it all over the bird, inside and out, getting your hands completely messy.

This is a great time to turn your oven on to 375 degrees for preheat. Drip oil across the kitchen floor while also leaving an amazing smudge on oven... eveyone will know YOU cooked the turkey. Let the oven heat up.

Now comes the real fun. How do you want your turkey to taste? I'm famous for my jalapeno turkey- it's quick, easy and mouth watering! But you can use anything, or nothing in your turkey. Cook the dressing in a pan- everything goes faster that way.

Traditional Turkey: salt and pepper the oiled bird, make an aluminum tent that folds long ways with the pan, creases longways down the length of the turkey and stands an inch or so above the bird- crimp it with your fingers on to the side of the pan and you're ready to put the bird in the oven.

WARNING: those aluminum pans that are so handy have a tendency to rip on the bottom sliding in and out of an oven rack, making a HUGE mess as the bird cooks- just belive me. Either place it carefully onto the rack or BETTER put it on a cookie sheet and slide the whole thing into the oven. Check it occasionally after a couple of hours. You can go to Butterball's site where they have a cool little calculator that tells you exactly how long to cook your bird... or just read the wrapping the bird came in. It's done when the legs wiggle freely. If you tied the legs up behind it's breast- it probably says something about you as a person.

Me, I fill and cover the bird with peppers- sliced wide open jalapenos and every other kind of pepper I can find at the store. Stick an orange or two in there - block the openings with fresh apples - put green onions or anything else you like around the bird. Claim that thing!

The last hour- spoon juice over the top- or buy one of those fancy basters and squirt the thing... enjoy yourself. I've cooked dozens and dozens of turkeys... now days I stick it in the oven before I go to bed and pull it out when I wake up. Piece of cake- perfection. You can pull the foil off the bird for the last 30 minutes to give it a cool brown look.

Have Fun!

This year marks the 20th Anniversary of Central Community's, Free, Community Wide Thanksgiving Dinner- if you'll be alone or without on Thanksgiving... don't be... please join us for a day of great food, fun and one more wonderful reason to give thanks. You're invited. And I'm cooking at least one of the turkeys!

first solo trail ride

That's my new bike... a Jamis or Janis of some sort... I know it's full suspension: forks and frame. Rides like a dream. The last couple of Monday's I've ridden with my son John- same trail in a local canyon -about 9 total miles. Normally I follow him and listen as he gives me warnings about rocks, ruts, hills- both up and down -and in general do his best to keep me on the bike and off the dirt... I've got a habit of hitting the dirt when we ride the trail... it worries him. I've yet to fall off the new bike- praise God!

Anyway... today John was out to the beach with his girlfriend, perfect fall weather, sunny, warm... an open invitation to go out and play. Debi worked in the yards- so I jumped on the bike and headed into the canyon all by myself, wondering if I could remember the trails and make it back before sunset. Managed both and even stayed in the saddle.

There's one great spot on the ride where the trail heads down into a tree covered creek. It's so cool to hit the water fast and hard- completely soaks my cletes everytime and everytime I'm amazed I make it through the water without falling. Today, checking out the water, I neglected to take a look at the up hill on the other side of the creek and came right into a deep rut, front tire got stuck and in an instant I was almost down... but then not... pedaled out of the rut, pulled the tire out and cranked it up the hill, heart beating fast and wishing someone had been behind me to watch it all.

I've discovered that most times when life almost takes us down with an unexpected rut, forward movement can save us- the ruts quickly behind us and we're on to the the next challenge... life's always filled with new challenges... the Psalmist had it right when he wrote "I lift my eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." The hills, the climbs, the challenges make us stronger, better people when we keep moving forward.

Riding home on the streets, enjoying a fantastic sunset, it was a good lesson to remember on this perfect autumn day. The weekend was so full- today was so restful -the ride was just what I needed. Hope you had the opportunity to do a little of just what you needed this afternoon. It can get you out of a rut... even if it gets you in one at the same time!

blessings and bike rides,

eric

song of the day is always good for a bike ride- listen in- what fun

Running to Win

March 2, 2008, Lord willing, I'll be standing at the starting line of the Los Angeles Marathon. Not great timing... Easter's early in 2008, so I'm slipping out at an important time in the life of our church. But the sad reality hit me a couple of months ago- I'd resigned myself to accept that most of my best running was behind me... what a depressing thought. Realizing I needed a big goal to get myself back on track I mentally registered for LA and got to work. I'm up to 40 mile weeks and broke 12 miles on my run this morning- every run alone. That makes it tougher... but it'll stay that way until I'm fit enough and fast enough to run with other folks- I'm still being passed by the aged and infirmed -but little by little, things are improving.

I've run ten or twelve marathons, but LA was my first, March 3, 1991. The poster's framed and still hangs in my office. Ran it once. Running a marathon's not such a big deal- worse case scenario, you sit on the curb and rest. TRAINING for a marathon, now that's a big deal. I spent years of my life staying "marathon ready." Any weekend that came open, I could head out and run a marathon- and I did on occasion. Never qualified for Boston- but never was rushed to the hospital either.

Ran my last marathon 6 years ago... it was horrible and promised I'd never do it again... but I must miss it, more likely it's just been long enough for me to forget how much it can hurt when things don't go well.

Training for my first LA, I was 36, thin and fit. I'd been running for years but was clueless to training. Never read a Runner's World or Running Magazine, had no clue what Race Place or Competitor were and learned about long runs from a friend at a New Years Eve party just 8 weeks before the race- so I started running 15 every Saturday. Just did my daily 7.5 twice. Ran it in a t-shirt and some dolphin shorts my sister gave me for Christmas... I saw overweight guys on the course wearing cut-offs and converse... who passed me, don't know if they finished. My official time was 4:04 - long before timing chips or I learned to wear a watch and mark splits.

My real time was probably 10-15 minutes faster. Started way in the back: 20,000 people back, and grooved to Randy Newman blaring out the speakers as runners jumped in the sunshine to "I Love LA!" Hope they still start with that. Then Mohamad Ali was in the starters box and I moved as closely as I could, HUGE crowd, wanting to see him as the crowd shouted: "Ali!, Ali!" Who knows how long it took before I ever crossed the starting line.

The race was filled with wonders and miracles, barefoot runners and running Elvis's, (who beat me by a mile even though they stopped in every bar on Sunset!), it was all so new. The front half was like a party... and then the work began. It's been said that the marathon doesn't start until mile 20... it's just a 6 mile race... truer words were never spoken. I made it through those final 6 miles- they were filled with enough stories for a book- church choirs singing in the front lawn- best friends slipping out of the crowd to run with me- my sister calling my name at the final turn... and the finish line... Los Angeles Marathon, Where Every Runner's a Star! I was embraced by an older woman, probably 40 or so, who walked me through the lines, put my first ever finishers medal around my neck and told me what a great race I'd run.

I'm going back!

Suddenly I can't wait! New point to point course- I know what that is now and it's my favorite kind of marathon to run. I have a new goal- no longer looking back, now firmly out in front of me. I'm training again. I'm going to run to win- to win my race, one day at a time, one mile at a time... looking forward.

If you've read this far... you're either family, a writer who wonders how this is all going to wrap up, or someone ready to make some big changes, ready to start looking forward, ready to embrace the excitement, fear, adventure and the unexpected the future holds. There are so many ways to go about it but some constants run through them all: set a BIG goal, start training, don't quit. You'll flesh out the fine points as you work through it. Remember, "Reader's are Leaders." Make friends who are stronger and better than you- then stay open to learn from them.

You can do it: GO, DO, BE.

After running my first marathon I wrote a long article on it that was printed in a national magazine- I just might try to dig it up and read through it again. Follow my blog- at the end of this marathon I just might write a book! Our best miles are still ahead of us. Let's run them together.

blessings,

Eric

Listen In to Randy Newman at the song of the day in the side bar
OR... join me for the marathon- just follow the link LA Marathon

Make a Difference!

Artivists, a film festival promoting films that speak out on current social concerns- particularly focusing on poverty, children, and animal rights (you can learn more about the festival at their site, www.artivists.org),has selected Glue Boys for showing this year, learn more about Glue Boys at www.glueboys.com. What you'll read at the web sites is such a small part of the story. Every film has film makers, dreams, hearts longing for change and voices crying to be heard behind them. We see the celebrity images of excess and too often forget that behind every talking head is a human heart, a spirit in motion, lives, families and almost always, issues that run through the fiber of their being... Artivist hopes to acknowledge and encourage these voices. That's a good thing.

The festival would have never caught my attention- I'm not exactly their prime audience -but for the selection of Glue Boys. Philip Hamer, an exceptional human being, who just happens to be my nephew, is the man who made Glue Boys. So many of the people who've helped pay for it, labored and prayed through the process and spent time in Kenya working on it, are people I know and love. Our son John had the opportunity to work with Phil, shooting daily among the street kids of Kitale, and that's one of the many sparks that finally began our work in Kenya.

Next weekend I'm going to my first film festival to view Glue Boys. I'm excited. It's a reminder that one heart, one voice, one person can still make a difference in a world that quickly diminishes the power of one. I've seen the film plenty of times. I've held Charles and Thomas, two of the primary street children followed throughout the film in my arms. Now we have the opportunity to share with Phil, the crew of the film and their families as this good work is recognized at the heart of entertainment world, Hollywood. Good on you Phil. Way to go Kat and Dan. I couldn't be more proud of you John. Best of all, the story of street children will continue to be lifted up and we'll be forced to respond... we can make a difference- Phil is. We can.

See you in Hollywood!

Danny... and Kung Foo Fighting

That's my buddy Danny. He lives at our children's home in Tijuana, Mexico. He and his brothers were the first kids to move in over three years ago and we've become pretty tight. Danny can be a quiet guy... I'm not real quiet... so when he gets excited, starts running and playing, I feel like life just might be alright, even if he has been abandoned by his family. Yesterday Danny was having a great day running and playing with the older boys. Occasionally he'd run by me- as if playing tag -lay one one me and say something in Spanish or just look up and smile. Since I didn't understand a thing he was saying I responded as any level headed, college educated pastor would... I gathered him up in my arms and started singing, "Everybody was Kung Foo Fighting..." It always draws a laugh and is well worth being the fool for the moment just to watch him smile. Give it a try today. Don't know all the words- but listen in at the side bar- it's the song of the day.

blessings,

Eric
Song of the Day - Kung Foo Fighting - Listen in.
Click to hear music file

wish you were here

That's Beaver, Wally and Eddie Haskel, or at least the actors who played the parts on the old Leave It To Beaver show. Happy Halloween... if only they were in costume... for those of us growing up watching "the Beave" get in trouble, or his big brother Wally help him out of it, or Eddie "Haskel" Mrs. Cleaver, as Ward rolled his eyes, a photo like this is a serious gut check on our age. To those under 40, it was an old black and white tv show, your parents probably watched it, or reruns of it, and it carries almost no historical value... but it's a goldmine of nostalgia from a not too distant past, our past.

I've never liked Halloween much, like the candy... and since I don't eat that to excess any more - and if you're not going to eat it to excess, what's the point? - but I have lot's of fond memories of times together at Halloween with old friends, family and people who are either no longer a part of my life, or are dead. They've somehow slipped into the same slot in my brain that holds Leave It To Beaver, I Married Joan and All In The Family... but in my heart... something special still beats for each of them. This morning so many people and so many good times have gone through my mind.

Mom kept a "costume box" in my sister Kathleen's closet. It was strictly off limits, until after school on Halloween, when she'd get it down and the four of us kids would in a matter of minutes become: pirates, gypsies, indians, cowboys or whatever else our imaginations could pull out of those magic rags and jack-o-lantern glasses... good times togehter with Dad, Mom, Danny, Tim and Kathleen. We'd head out into the neighborhood with bags or pillowcases- definitely no adult chaperones... a different world... and walk, knock and trick or treat til we were beat. Friends would join us: Bobby, Susan, Mickey, David, Kim, Jane and so many others... we'd come home and dump the candy, cookies and popcorn balls into large bowls where mom would "sort" and inspect it, letting her sweet tooth be her guide. The candy seemed to last forever... the friends, like Beaver, Wally, Eddie... grew up, moved away and embraced the "necessary losses" that come with aging. Don't know what happened to the costume box.

Today my minds working in black and white- all reruns -and wishing you were here... so many old friends, so many good times, events and people that shaped me in ways I never noticed and definitely never aknowledged... I'd list you all... but I'd never be brave enough to be certain that each of you received it... but for today, the candle in this old jack-o-lantern shines for so many old friends who once meant the world to me. Thank you... "our lives have changed in so many ways..." part of you has stayed with me.

My brother-in-law, and good friend for the last 30 years, Gary, died last year. It was hard, could have used a hug from each of you. It was not a joyous time to be the preacher. I didn't want to bury him. Right before I stood to speak, his neices, two beautiful young women with amazing voices and incredible talent, stood, playing the acoustic guitar and sang for their uncle Gary- one of his favorite songs -"Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd. I was balling my eyes out in the background... thinking of so many memories this morning... the song came back to me... and I sort of wished mom could pull down the old costume box and we'd all be kids again for the day... but it's not what I want, not at all. However, as life, family and friends quickly slip away I find myself wishing, sometimes more often than not, that you were here to share the joy, adventure, sorrow and challenges of it all. Today, I'm thinking of you, in only good ways.

blessings,

Eric

Song of the Day - Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here - Listen in.
Click to hear music file

found a nickle!

I love finding money on my runs- I stop, pick it up, jam it in my pocket and run off with a smile. Getting home, I'll set it on one of our cars, one of Debi's knick-knack boxes, rarely do I put it with my change... there's something special about found money. Don't think I'd like to find a $20- or more... I'd feel bad for whoever lost it. Once found $120- in an envelope on the side of the road... it had an address and we were able to find the sender and return it. I've found numerous wallets, credit cards and so many other random pieces of life left on the side of road. But spare change is my favorite still, makes me smile, feel like an elementary school kid.

I've noticed that many people consider change a pain- they'll do anything, donate towards whatever cause, leave a cheap tip at Starbucks just to rid themselves of it. My generation had coin jars- coin bottles- usually old 5 gallon Sparklets water bottles where we kept our savings. They easily held in excess of $1,000-, I know... been there, done that. Change was an invitation to hope: a trip to Europe, someday a downpayment, a car, it represented possible, positive, change... in simple change.

It's a lost legacy. Maybe that's what makes me feel just a little thrill when I find a nickle, dime, quarter... or even a penny on the road. Debi already put the one I found today in her money jar... hope... change... who knows, maybe my Christmas present!?!

If I were king of the world, or in charge of a world that holds change in disdain, I'd invite everyone to empty their pockets of change each day and hurl it towards the gutter. Soon the gutters would glitter with hope, kids could pick up a little piece of purpose just walking down the road, no one would need to panhandle and me... my runs would take forever... I'd never make it home but our coin jar would always be filled and it'd be hard not to start every day with a smile.

I found a nickle today on my run, put it in the little change pocket in my running shorts and thought of world of change... what a bargain! It's a change in thinking, give it a try. If you enjoy change- pick it up, look at it in wonder and leave it somewhere around the house. If change isn't your kind of thing- empty your pockets and throw caution to the wind and let the gutters glitter -someone's waiting for a better day, a shiny nickle of hope. It might be me.

Tune in to the song of the day on the side bar - Ben Harper, singing about change
Click to hear music file

random thoughts on todays run

my run this morning

It's the first run over 10 miles I've done in a while... and it was OK. The time may have been REALLY slow...but I bumped into a friend along the way on his run and we stopped and caught up on our families, running and mutual friends. The time needs to pick up- it was all downhill -but all things considered... I'm just glad to be out there- smoke cleared, cooler weather and my body feeling reasonably good.

Simple things please runners... I ran in a new pair of shorts and they fit perfectly. They've got cool pockets, so you've got someplace to stick your hands when you stop to talk. The basic key pocket, but it's built in to the inseam with spandex to keep the key from bouncing around. They're a very cool, light gray color with yellow, orange strips on the hips... any splash of yellow/orange makes you look a little faster while running. And perhaps best of all, they've got a little zippered pocket at the small of the back- I carried cliff shot cubes and ate one every three miles -but it's plenty big enough for a cell phone or some other silliness. Wish I had ten pair of shorts just like them, I'd wear them everyday! Made by a company named RUN - who knew?

If you click on the sattelite shot of my run, you can clearly see Lake Matthews to the west, Lake Perris and Elsinore to the east and a zillion other points of interest. I didn't run by any of them... but cool to see just the same.

Running... it got me out the door again today... my mind stayed relatively free and clear... if I could send it a thank you note, I would. Just 6 weeks ago I laced up my shoes again and already I'm feeling like it's coming back. This afternoon, resting, not needing to work today, tempted to take a nap, I feel blessed. Blessed to enjoy getting outside and blessed to have the health and desire to pull myself out of bed and do it. Hope there's something you're making time to enjoy. Life can come at us fast and it's good to know that the road, the water, the weights, the whatever it is... are waiting and ready for us to get involved. Go. Do. Be.

blessings

tune into the song of the day on the sidebar... it's one of my favorites
Click to hear music file

early morning sessions

a kid rips up the inside of HB Pier on a Longboard

I've been up since 3am when I stood in our upstairs bedroom and watched the fire in OC come over the top of Saddleback... pretty impressive sight from so many miles away. I was awake, so I went for a run and felt a little silly being alone on the roads in the dark. Not that I haven't done it plenty of times before... just not for awhile... and I heard coyotes around me barking at the full moon... oh my!

Early in our marriage, Debi and I lived up the street from HB Pier. She worked at Long Beach State and I taught at HB High School. Life was busy... life was just beginning a new page. Every morning began with me loading my little Bruce Jones board into my bug and drving the few blocks down to the pier, already in my wetsuit, then jumping in the water in the dark. The few of us who hit the water that early in those days called ourselves the "Gone Before Dawn Patrol." We were new in our careers and still refusing to release our grip on the ocean... or maybe the ocean just wouldn't release her grip on us.

Most mornings there'd be one or two other guys in the line up where lights on the south side allowed us to track the oncoming sets when there was no moon. Often I paddled out alone and surfed alone: 3:30am to 6 or 7am when the water began to fill up. I don't remember being scared during those early morning sessions, however, if it was big, I remember praying that someone else would begin to surf... good waves, in the dark, are better shared with someone, even if it's a stranger.

I'd run back to my bug before the sun broke the horizon- kiss Debi as she headed out to work -jump into the shower, rinsing off my wetsuit and making ready for the day, then head out to teach. The kid's would always ask the same question each morning, "How was the surf today Mr. Denton?" I'd smile and usually say something like, "You really missed it... life's so much better once you graduate... get back to work!" They must've hated me. I was loving every minute of it.

I haven't been in the ocean for ages and can't begin to imagine having the confidence to surf the pier in the dark... I'd struggle in the light of day... but this shot brought back so many good memories of watching groms rip up the inside. Looks' like they're still doing it. Made me think of this old song by Grateful Dead. Check out the song of the day on the sidebar, enjoy.

We live through so many adventures that it's easy to forget they ever happened... that we were ever really there. Cue up the song and think back on a time when you enjoyed early mornings... seeing this picture, hearing this song, lit a fire in me- and I saw a fire from my window this morning... maybe I'll hit the pier first thing in the morning... or not.

Eric
Click to hear music file

The Not So Perfect Day

The fires have taken a toll that will be difficult to calculate. Hundreds of thousands displaced, living in fear. Almost two thousand homes already gone. Countless memories released into smoke, surrendered to the flames, resting in the ashes.

My sister's family hopes to return to their home today. It seems the fire has passed them by leaving only disruption of lives, turmoil and expenses that will never be recouped. Their story is but one in hundreds of thousands... they're among those blessed to have a home to return to. Talking with her about what she took as they were hurried out of their neighborhood, she said: "Looking around at all our stuff, I kind of had an ah-ha moment... realizing that all we owned was not what was important to me. We put the kids in the car and left." I imagine her experience was lived out a thousand times over as people were forced to evaluate their priorities.

I imagine there's a little liberty in that... but what do I know, I wasn't chased out of my home by fire.

We grew up with our mom's story of watching their childhood home burn down. Mom and her older brother Doyle were climbing in a eucalyptus tree in their front yard when they saw smoke coming from the roof. By the time they got down the back of the house was engulfed... she said the house was gone before anyone could come to fight the fire... it was the depression and everything they had was lost. Somehow, the family put things back together... even still, my grandfather was dead, a young man, within the decade. Doyle, her tree climbing brother, was killed in WWII. The house they built on the burned out pad is the place of my memories with granny, she's been gone since '72. That house was eventually torn down to extend the runway at Sky Harbor, the airport in Phoenix, Arizona.

The people who tore it down didn't know a thing about mom and Doyle, climbing a tree out front, only to watch their house catch fire... to lose everything. When I watch TV and see newspeople walk across scorched pads where a home once stood, where so many memories were made, where the walls were once filled with laughter and tears... I remember mom's story and my heart hurts just a little more for the loss.

You know the saying: "Just another perfect day in paradise." We take pride in those days here in Southern California... we haven't had one this week... far from it... it's not even been close to a perfect day. Pray for the people losing everything, those who's lives have been dangerously disrupted, those who are fighting to save it all... pray for us in sunny southern California. We're living for the return of our perfect days.

Song of The Day... in the sidebar... are just words of comfort, from a friend
Click to hear music file

the perfect day

When Shelley first talked to me about having a Craft Faire - well let's just say I probably wasn't nearly as enthusiastic about it as I could have been. What a dope. They're about 30 minutes away from wrapping the day up and it's been an incredible success: from pancake breakfast to caramel apples to lunch in the courtyard to over 50 vendors both indoor and out, it's been the perfect day. The weather's been incredible, the workers amazing, the face painting beautiful, the games, jumpers and DJ - running the cake walk as well -have all been... well, perfect.

The whole deal was to raise money for our orphanage in TJ, Siempre Para Los Ninos, and I'm guessing they've raised a bunch. Now, a perfect day in Riverside, hanging out with bunches of great people, enjoying time on the church campus, checking out the gifted work of so many artisans will all be converted into giving hope to children who once had none. God is good beyond measure.

Thanks to everyone who participated, planned, volunteered, worked hard with their whole hearts and to those of you that spent money on something. Thanks also to Shelley, who along with her family have kept the whole ball of wax rolling for months. Next time an idea comes your way, remember, just because it's not your idea, doesn't mean it's not a great idea... open up a little... it might just lead to the perfect day.

blessings,

Eric

PS
I don't know if any of them will have the juice left after today... but the song of the day is just for them... a song of celebration... kick up your feet, Great Job!

Click to hear music file

from a distance

Not so very long ago... waiting for Christmas to come... the workers of Jackets for Jesus, our ministry to the homeless of Los Angeles, were caught up in a robbery. Christmas was weeks away. It was a cold night. The McDonald's we were sitting in was empty, until some young men came in, masked, guns in hand and forced the workers on the floor while they emptied the registers and safe. It was pretty scary. It was the second time we'd been caught between the guns and money on a Sunday night.

Our workers are dedicated.

Christmas music was playing, we'd been ignoring it until the end of a pistol silenced us all... then we heard it clearly, Bette Midler singing her Christmas version of "From a Distance." She was in full voice, mid chorus, singing "God is watching us, God is watching us..." Peace moved freely. Robert started singing along. Our hearts, while not yet beating, were at ease. It was as if God WAS watching us and from not too very far away. It seemed like He was right there.

The song now holds a special place in each of our hearts. Bette Midler jumped way up my list of favorites- she'd become a messenger of peace when we needed one most.

Christmas is just weeks away. So much will fill our lives in the days to come. Some of it will be amazing... some heartbreaking... some of us will face disappointment we never anticipated... God is watching us and from not so very far away. He's in charge, even when life gets out of control, we choose to live in His peace... or not.

It may be October- but it's a Christmas song of the day -it's a great reminder of His Presence through it all this last year. A reminder that regardless of what's out ahead, He'll be there, we can share His Peace. We can prepare our hearts for joy: God is watching us.

Play the song of the day in the sidebar... don't get too caught up in the words... think of some scary guys with guns in McDonald's and the amazing message one song sent to some frightened people... He has a message for you in your most frightening moment... when it all comes down, listen... God is watching us.

Merry Christmas!

Click to hear music file

Who Knows Where The Time Goes?

Watch the video- it's a piece of our church history. This week we celebrate 75 years as a church in Riverside, California. Just 15 years ago we paid a hunk of change in pre-PC video editing days to have this made. We bought 1,000 copies and passed them out in the community, hoping to give people a look at who we were and what we did without having to venture any further than their VCR. We didn't have a great response but it sure is a cool bit of history... maybe just for those of us who know the people in the video... but it was a wild time in the church at large.

Worship was changing... we'd gone from a choir, organ and hymns to a praise band! Months after the video was made we changed the name of the church! Not to mention you'd have to go back to '93 to find pictures of me wearing a tie at anything other than a wedding or funeral. Church was changing... it was changing us and we felt like we were on the edge of "A Great Awakening!" We sang about it.

From a historical perspective... better yet, from God's perspective, I'm guessing these changes that seemed so radical at the time will be judged by their fruit: was The Love of God lifted up? I know when we spent the $9 or $10,000- we really didn't have -to make this video, sharing His love and building His church was at the top of our list. I hope you can feel a little of that as you watch it.

From a pastor's perspective, I look at the people, miss the one's who've gone to be with God, smile at those still with Central Community- looking so young and bright -and wonder about those we've lost contact with. It was a fun time in our ministry. We wouldn't be where we are today without those important steps of outreach in the early '90's.

From a personal perspective, aren't my kids cute? Can't believe the mullet I was sporting. And Debi... always beautiful. Our kids still work with us at the church. John, the cute little guy with glasses, is now our youth pastor. Julia, the beautiful girl with long hair who looks just like her mom, runs our offices and works with our children's small groups. Debi and me? We're still doing what we do... and if I had the money in pocket... I might not make another video, but I hope I'd still try to stay on the cutting edge of growing God's church. It's worth it! He's too good.

blessings,

Eric

Life's Short

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost (from Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening)

I have a seizure disorder. Had my first grand mal seizure in August of 1969 several weeks after a motorcycle accident, I was 15. I've had a number of seizures since then, not sure how many episodes (that's what they call it when you have a seizure... kind of like a TV series). My seizures try their best to kill me. Nothing pleasant about them. I've broken both shoulders during seizures- in different episodes- my heart's stopped, lungs collapsed, you name it... it's pretty much happened.

I'm extremely fortunate, I have my seizures in my sleep, there's a name for that- just don't remember it. I've not had so many that people steer clear of me, point fingers or try to tie me to the stake- maybe a dozen total, possibly less. I've gone as long as ten years without one and had them as close together as 6 months. Had a pretty rough night of several seizures 2 and a half years ago- those took out my right shoulder and an entire summer of healing. Some people have ten or twenty a day... I've been blessed.

My family's amazing. People with seizure disorders face medication and thoughts of mortality on a daily basis. At 17 a neurologist told me I wouldn't make it to 30... beat that by a few. But when it's in YOU... whatever it is that triggers it, from stress to MSG to doctors who think it's time to take you off of medication after ten years without seizures, you learn to cope. Your options are limited. I don't know how mom's, dad's, sister's brother's, wives’, husband's, significant other's, son's, daughter's and friend's survive the lifetime of stress and worry. It must be brutal. I've surfed, backpacked, traveled, worked and played around the world... often by myself in some pretty sketchy situations from Siberia to Kenya, Tahiti to Mykonos and plenty of points in between without much thought of the concern it must cause my loved ones... and to their credit, they keep on loving me right back.

Seizure stories: I have them going back to 1969. Some are heart breaking tales of days in unconsciousness in lonely hospital rooms... none are funny... some seem to scream out life lessons by the circumstances that surround them, all carry a heavy fall out. I try not to dwell on them. It seems like a good way to keep "the beast at bay."

One story always stands out- it's the short end to this long introduction. Nine or ten years ago we switched insurance carriers and their neurologist decided I was cured and didn't need to be on medication- that didn't work. After six or eight months of slowly weaning me off of each of my three daily meds- I had a series of killer seizures in my sleep -my family surrounded me in love, paramedics worked feverishly to save my life and after some time I was transported to the ER where I waited in semi-consciousness for a room to open.

It was during that very gray period, in the middle of the night, someone sent my mother, who along with my father and other family members had made a mad dash in the night to the hospital, to sit beside me. She said she was confused as she pulled back the ER curtain surrounding my gurney, because she heard my voice: weak and fragile, yet speaking words she knew with certainty. From somewhere in the dark recesses of my recovering brain the words of Robert Frost slipped across my lips. She said it haunted her and broke her heart to watch her youngest son in painful recitation bring new life to those old words: “But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.”

Sometimes, when I feel like quitting, throwing in the towel, chucking it all away because “the woods are lovely, dark and deep…” I think of my wife, my mom, my son and daughter at my bedside on nights they were sure they’d lost me and I remember that “I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.”

Tomorrow’s not promised to anyone: we have today. I’ve long since learned that though my seizure disorder might make me medically unique it doesn’t separate me from the people I share today with. Each of us have our own individual concerns, conditions and heartbreaks that weigh heavy on our souls. We’ve all been given the opportunity of today- living well in it is our choice. I choose to give my best, to think, to live, to love… I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep.

Blessings,

Eric

Big Dreams... in action!

That's my buddy Joe's, (aka Aloha Joe), Pumpkin Patch. Stopped by to visit on my way down for Jackets for Jesus, our work with the homeless on skidrow. Joe's a dreamer who's put his dreams in action. He left a job he was unhappy with to start his own business with party jumpers and he's now parlayed that business into his first pumpkin patch- using all his jumpers- and a Christmas Tree lot in the same place once the pumpkin's are gone.

He's deeply invested. He's giving it his all. He's having a blast. Joe's a people person- thrives on being in a crowd- watching his pumpkin patch sprout and grow has definitely been a highlight of this month for me. I drive by, scan the lot, look for his face or maybe the face of one of his family, stop in when it looks like they're not too busy and drive by smiling when the place is packed. Pretty cool.

Might sound like a simple dream- sell some pumpkins, give a family a safe place to hang out and have fun together in the middle of what's become a pretty scary holiday, hopefully end up a success at the end of the day... by my measurement he's already there... he's doing it, living his dream.

Hope you're living yours today. I'm heading down to skid row to live out part of the dream God's given me. There's something for everyone. God's good.

blessings,

Eric

Surfing Online

http://www.aspworldtour.com/2007

The link above will take you to the site that's kept me awake early for the last couple of weeks: live coverage of a WCT Surf Contest at Mundaka, Spain. Mundaka's an almost mythical left in the Basque region of Spain that I've never surfed. Spent a month or so surfing just north of there back in the '70's on the waves around Biarritz, France... never made it down to Mundaka... I regret it.

What can I say, I live with more than a few. That's not even in the top ten.

The best surfers in the world have worked their way into the quarter finals at a neighboring beach break in pretty junky surf in hopes that the final days will be held on the main wave with a swell. This weekend- October 13 & 14 - will have Mick Fanning surfing against Bobby Martinez, while Taj Burrow and 8 time world champion Kelly Slater fight into the final. With the time difference from California, for me, it could be as early as very late tonight.

Most people on the planet could care less... but high speed internet has become a surfing fans dream. Live coverage of the best surf spots with the best surfers in the world right on your lap top- get fancy and plug it into your big screen and bore the entire household- mainstream surfing -available to millions, recruiting even more people into the lineup... I would've been stuck to the screen if they'd had this when I was a kid... even still, it's the nightmare we never even imagined- international recruiting of MORE surfers!

My buddy Brad, who's surfed Mundaka to his heart's content, use to talk about surfing becoming unpopular. He'd say: "Don't worry, it's just a fad, when it passes we'll start to have the waves to ourselves again." That didn't work out. I've been in the water just a couple of times in the last year. Brad lives on his favorite surf break and doesn't surf anymore. There's two old guys out of the lineup. But when the boys are surfing the hot spots and Kelly's pushing for another title, you'll find me staying up late- or waking up early -with a heat always on in the background, checking in on the boys who still chase the endless summer... and dreaming.

One of these days I'm going to get back in the water.

Coming and Going

The wicked man flees though no one pursues, but the righteous are as bold as a lion. Proverbs 28:1

Getting a haircut was a ritual growing up. Three boys in the family, dad would haul us down to Oscar's where we each dreaded our turn under his cigar breath and not so nimble fingers. Hair was kept short and it seemed my ears were continually knicked by his wayward shears. Things changed. From my freshman through senior year in H.S. I had my hair cut exactly once, up to my shoulders. I had long hair. I liked my hair long. Never missed my time in Oscar's chair.

Adult living and careers slipped in and hair needed to fit the "social norms." I learned to dress for work; whether that was when I galvanized steel wearing denim, waited tables in a tux, was a bank teller in a tie, a school teacher in permanent press or my early years of ministry in a suit everyday: I kept my hair short. Sometime in the '90's I decided to skip most trips to the barber. Even with friends more than willing to cut my hair - at my office, in their homes, in our home... I fell back into the habit of letting it grow, not really long, but longer than most... one or two cuts a year. Hey, it's my hair.

When I was a kid, my parents and adults in general hassled me about my hair. It was a pain in the neck. As an adult, my kids and their friends hassle me about my hair. It's still a pain in the neck. Today I was out to get a sandwich for lunch- a young man from church, early twenties, saw me and the first words out of his mouth were: "You need a haircut!" Oscar's revenge!

Proverbs teaches that the wicked run from that which does not pursue them... >I'm not going to let all these kids get me down!< But the righteous are as bold as a lion. >Don't lions have long manes? And no one messes with them.

Here's the problem: short hair is so much easier. But if I get it cut all these people will start saying "Finally!" Just like when I was a kid... people even wrote songs about it: "Almost cut my hair..." Think I'm going to take the path of the righteous- bold, without fear and get a hair cut... so much easier than getting stopped right before lunch. Some kids never grow up.

Eric

My Brother Tim Likes the Yankees

I couldn't believe he said it out loud... he had a great excuse- the same one so many people use -Mickey Mantle. He'd been his baseball idol as an elemetary school kid and it's never quite rubbed off. Overall he's an overkill Dodger's fan- he and my dad have probably watched more Dodger games in their lives than time spent in church. With some of the teams and players the boys in blue have put on the field across the last decade, they should have been at the altar praying for 'dem bums.

But I could relate- Mickey was cool but it was the "Say Hey Kid," Willie Mays that turned my heart towards the Giants... and truth be told, I've found myself rooting for the Giants, usually in silence, and always from a distance, ever since. Not like a big fan, but like a kid who read The Willie Mays Story one too many times in 4th and 5th grade. Just seeing the old paper jacket brings back good memories.

The man was a star and lived out loud long before the world of "bling" began to dominate. Not to mention that watching he and Willie McCovey carry the team attack was a thing of beauty in the early years of the Dodgers/Giants rivalries.

I eventually became an Angels fan. Took tons of abuse from my brothers. Even hitting against "my" team, there was something of the "fall classic" in Boston's Manny Ramierez, finally coming through in the post season and hitting a walk off in the 9th at Fenway. It's the stuff that makes little kids that live a million miles from Boston start rooting for the Sox.

Found this video online- enjoy it. Sums up a bunch of my childhood dreams. While watching it I couldn't help but whisper a silent prayer: "God, help The Angels to sign Alex Rodriquez AND Barry Bonds for 2008." My brother and I could go to a game together and cheer from the heart. I'd pray for the Dodgers to get them both... but just the prospect of Barry Bonds in Dodger blue would probably rattle the universe. As long as he doesn't put on pin stripes!

blessings,

Eric

My Daily Run

That's a satellite shot of my neighborhood. Look closely and you'll see a little blue line with arrows: my daily run. Just under 5 and a half miles, the way I can put it off one would think it's a marathon. Weather's been perfect for running; cool, clear, an invitation to get outside... still I find a way to brush my teeth, check my email, read the newspaper, even cruise all my favorite www sites before pushing this old frame out the door.

But here's the deal- I'm out doing it again, everyday.

I'm a runner. People ask me about my running when I go places. I've been running for decades. In the '60's ran like a kid- (I was a kid!) In the '70's ran mornings when there were no waves- getting in on the fitness craze. Injured my knee running a 5k in '84 and cycled the rest of the '80's. Ran my first marathon in '91 at LA, spent the next decade running a marathon a year. The new century brought a bit of a slow down. Weeks that used to be filled with 40-45 miles were now lucky to break 20. It's been a roller coaster, filled with getting back at it and falling away- old age? No excuses. Too busy... life's definitely been... but I've run through busy times before. Think it's just time to get back at it, again.

This morning I'm blogging- one more excuse not to go outside and play... to run. I'll strap on my heart rate monitor, latch my little computer- a Garmin 305 -to my shoulder to track speed, route, etc... by gps... then go out and run the same little 5 mile loop I've been running for 14 years. Hope you've got something to pull you outdoors today.

still running,

Eric

Someone Will Take My Hand

My mom wrote the following words. They're the final chapter in her wonderful book: My Alabaster Box. That's Mom and Dad at a book signing some years back at our home. They encourage me, I know they can bring hope to you when you're a little down... or maybe even devestated. My mom's known dark moments: her brother killed in WWII, her dad died not long after, her oldest son served overseas during the Vietnam war, her middle son was stabbed by a serial killer (and thankfully survived), I've had health problems I wouldn't wish on to my enemies... the kind that keep mom's up in the middle of the night. Through it all, mom's been there.

Today Debi and I are going to spend the afternoon with my parents while my sister-in-law and brother have to be at the doctor. Mom hasn't known that she wrote these words for years. Her memory has slipped away. Her words and lessons remain while she and dad live in a downstairs room, watching CNN all day at my brother's house. It's enough to break your heart. My prayer is that in her moments of confusion and loss that there is always Someone there to take her hand.



SO MANY YEARS. . . .so many months. . .hours. . . .minutes . . .and not all of them happy. Count them up – perhaps the sorrows outweigh the joys. It’s strange how one joy can cancel out many sorrows!

The past year seemed to add up more sorrows than joys…nothing evened out when I tried the system of one joy canceling out three sorrows. But the thought came to me as a bright diamond in the dark….these sorrows MAY bring joy SOMEDAY.

When a mother holds her infant until the five-o’clock hour of the dawn as the baby fights for the breath of life…I shall be able to say “take my hand….I understand your anxiety”….when a family lays away a beloved member and the tears fall, fall freely, and they long for a view of a rainbow…I will be able to say, “I’ll cry with you…hold my hand…I’ve walked this way before.” When the heart is bound with grief-a sorrow so deeply hidden within because of a prodigal child…I will say, “Yes, take my hand, I too have walked this way before.” When a mother sits by the hospital bed of her near grown child as he struggles to hold onto the thread of life…I will softly whisper, “Here…hold my hand let’s share together.”

When dreams lie shattered in the dust…the dreams of years of planning and waiting-and the future seems dark, I will say, “Take my hand, I have walked this way before.”

But someday the dawn will break and I shall see the rainbows and the long journey’s end and I reach the moment we all must face when eternity looms out ahead, I am sure at a second’s fraction of time I will reach out and someone will take my hand and say, “I’ve walked this way before – come follow me.”
And this one final joy will cancel out all sorrows.

Ione Denton

Meeting People

When it comes to meeting people, I lead a charmed life. Whether it's because of shared schedules, lifestyles or just bumping into some pretty cool people in public... it's always seemed to happen to me. What fun.

Years ago, while Debi and I were still dating, she took me to the Greek Theater for a famous Ballet Troupe- think it was the Bolshoi with Rudolf Nuryev (sp?)-couldn't begin to imagine why anyone would take me to the ballet, but it was cool and we were together.

We had great seats and sitting right in front of us were Cary Grant and his daughter. One of those times when you're so close to someone so famous but you hate to stare or break in on their evening. I openly admit to becoming bored at some point in the performance and not returning from intermission as quickly as I should have. Suddenly, I found myself standing in line for a coke next to the man himself. Now just inches apart and outside the confines of seats, etc... I introduced myself- thinking it was a one time shot, what did I have to lose?

Mr. Grant greeted me warmly, began to talk about the performance and then incredibly asked about ME! I was stunned. We spent a few minutes shooting the breeze in the plaza area. He was so much bigger than I imagined. Handsome as all get out, wearing a tux... maybe the one in the picture above... but older then in the picture... and friendly... or maybe he wasn't so hot on ballet either. In my memory it seems we spent the next ten or fifteen minutes talking, but it may have only been five. When we returned to our seats he aknowledged us behind him. It felt great.

Thirty years and so many other introductions later, I still remember, and still occasionally get that "star struck" feeling. But Mr. Grant taught me an important lesson: people are just people- period. He was a normal guy, interested in normal stuff and more than happy to shoot the breeze with a kid in his twenties out on a date. It's a great lesson in life and it's helped remind me to always treat everyone; famous or not, wealthy or not, the same- just normal people.

Meeting people- we do it every day -next time you do, take the time to ask about them, spend some unexpected moments in conversation. You could build a memory that'll last a lifetime.

blessings,

Eric

One Voice

It was a much needed, unifying highlight of the '60's - America landing men safely on the moon. It's tough to find someone old enough to remember who couldn't tell you exactly where they were as they watched those men bravely step out onto the surface of a new world. I was 15 years old and working as a bus boy at Phillips Chicken Pie Shop on Pine Ave. in downtown Long Beach. A crowd gathered behind the lunch counter and stared in disbelief, some prayed, we all cheered: just to see them safe... just to see them... we felt a little like the jetson's might really be our neighbors some day. It was an incredible moment.

The moment began with one man- our president -who challenged a nation to lift her eyes to a new horizon, beyond ourselves. Sadly, President Kennedy didn't live to share the world's celebration as some of our own sent home their incredible video journal. But it was his voice, his steadfastness, his inspiration that got the project going, set a deadline from the start and motivated us to believe that anything was possible.

Just one voice changed the way we looked at the world.

I once ate lunch with Jim Irwin, one of the other 12 men who eventually walked on the moon. I asked him all the same questions he'd probably been asked a million times before. I keep his photo, on the moon, autographed to me, just above my desk. He was a humble man who was kind to a young preacher. Jackets for Jesus, our work with the homeless in Los Angeles had just begun. He gave me one of his personal flight jackets to give to a homeless man - Col. Jim Irwin, beautifully stitched in - I handed it out one brutally cold night to a man who cared more about the warmth than the story behind it. I'll never forget watching that jacket walk away- keeping a man, earthbound by poverty, warm, from the back of a man who'd looked down on the earth from the surface of the moon. Jim said the entire earth; billions of people, each with their own stories, hid neatly behind his raised thumb... it amazes me still.

One voice united a generation, one act of kindness kept a man warm, one life- well lived -leaves an imprint on eternity. It's our voice, it's our choice, it's our legacy... so many are waiting for direction. We can change the world, one day at a time.

blessings,

Eric

Beloved Wilson

I'm an alumnus of Long Beach Wilson H.S., class of 1972. The school was big back then, over 3,000 students... today they have over 4,500 students. It could be a university. I looked everywhere online for an old photo of the campus but all I came up with was this signature photo that seems to be used in all their material- Wilson Bruins -those big buildings weren't there back then.

High School was good to me: plenty of friends, more then enough good times and I have fantastic memories of some really great teachers that worked hard to teach me a thing or two... and they did. I suspect most, if not all of them are dead. God bless them everyone.

My major grief in high school had to do with dress codes- THE MAN ruled -and there was no way I was dressing the way THE MAN dictated! Sounds silly now- I'd get sent to the office for having sandals without socks, hair past my shirt collar and a collection of other seemingly meaningless infractions that kept the boat rocking back in the day.

Looking in on the old school- now Wilson Classical High School -everyone in uniforms and totally prep, I was impressed to find the dress code still rides the rules front and center... some things never change. Check it out.

Boys Khaki (tan) pants or shorts (solid color only)

Pants must be hemmed and fitted at the waist and crotch. No sagging pants allowed.
Shorts may not be shorter than mid-thigh.
Long pants cannot drag on the ground.

Girls Khaki (tan) pants, shorts, jumpers, overall, or skirts (solid color only)
Pants must be hemmed and fitted at the waist and crotch. No sagging pants allowed.
Shorts may not be shorter than mid-thigh.
Long pants cannot drag on the ground.
Girls and BoysWhite or cardinal (burgundy) shirts (solid color only).
Shirts must have collars or be a turtleneck.

Non Wilson Logo'd shirts must have a logo no larger than the size of a quarter.
Only white short-sleeved undershirts may be worn.
Undershirts must be tucked in.
All sweaters, sweatshirts, sweat jackets, fleece pullovers, and fleece jackets must be white, cardinal or gold.
No logos are permitted except Wilson Classical, ASB Chartered club, or Wilson athletic logos.
Coats and jackets (except fleece and sweat jackets) may be any color.
Coats may not be worn in the classroom. Only cover-ups in school colors may be worn in the classroom.
No Raiders, Stealers, or Kings attire may be worn.
Hoods must be worn down except when outside in winter weather.

Wilson's now in the top 5% of H.S.'s nation wide- #575 in 2007. Bet they have a chant. I can just see them in the quad- thousands out for a pep rally- "We're #575!" Over and over again, each time louder and louder.

Wilson was a good time. Hope the kids there today are enjoying the moment. Couldn't find it on their site, but back in '72 we had the best theme song- started with "Hail to Wilson..." and ended with a great "bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah..............!" But it was in between that gotcha- we all pledged are hearts to the school. Don't remember in Long Beach State had a theme song. Pretty sure Anderson School of Theology didn't, but "beloved Wilson," did. Life needs a theme song- look how the schools growing: 4,500 students- #575 nation wide... Go Wilson!

Eric

that's John

My son John and I have been doing "outdoor" stuff together since he was a kid. Most we couldn't afford. I always said spending the money on good times when he was a kid was cheaper than on a lawyer as a teen.

Sitting on the beach at Trestles- with John- an awesome adult -waiting for a surf contest to start. We enjoy still getting away together. God's good!

lost post

waiting

Getting blood drawn... A painful wait. Over $1,200- a month for insurance to wait... That's $40- a day- not even a smile

Can't Wait to Try It!

I use a Blackberry cell phone, like the one in the picture,- mostly just as a phone -but I enjoy many of it's other features as well... it's a cool phone... after about a year, definitely give it my best phone ever vote. That said, yesterday it received a software upgrade from T-Mobile. Phone company said it was to take care of a bunch of small issues- to the real geeks it was worth downloading just for the A2DP. Check out the definition from Wikipedia:

Advanced Audio Distribution Profile (A2DP)
This profile defines how high quality audio (stereo or mono) can be streamed from one device to another over a Bluetooth connection[1] - for example, music streamed from a mobile phone to a wireless headset.

A2DP was initially used in conjunction with an intermediate Bluetooth transceiver that connects to a standard output audio jack, encodes the incoming audio to a Bluetooth-friendly format, and sends the signal wirelessly to Bluetooth headphones that decode and play the audio. However, many Bluetooth 1.1, 1.2, and 2.0 mobile phones and portable media players do not natively support A2DP, while some newer Bluetooth 2.0 headphones do support it.

Bluetooth headphones, especially the more advanced models, often come with a microphone and support for the Audio/Video Remote Control (AVRCP), Headset (HSP) and Hands-Free (HFP) profiles.

A2DP[2] is designed to transfer a 2-channel stereo audio stream, like music from an MP3 player, to a headset or car radio. This profile relies on AVDTP and GAVDP. It includes mandatory support for low complexity Sub Band Codec (SBC) and supports optionally: MPEG-1,2 Audio, MPEG-2,4 AAC and ATRAC, and is extensible to support manufacturer-defined codecs. Most bluetooth stacks implement the SCMS-T DRM (digital rights management) scheme. In these cases it is not possible to connect the A2DP headphones for high quality audio. E.g. the Motorola HT820 can be used for high quality audio only with certain versions of the Toshiba bluetooth stack.

I was almost embarassed to carry it in my pocket... until yesterday... I sleep much easier at night knowing I have full A2DP compliance. Can't wait to try it out!

Touching Base

The video clip's of the top 10 homeruns of the past week... it leaves out A-Rod's two early in the week and Bond's big one that barely cleared the wall... but it's all good. Hey, it's the internet, maybe MLB posted the wrong week. Either way, the point still fits, can't win the game, score the run, make the highlight clip until we touch base... every base.

It's a lesson most of my generation- probably not reading, or having a clue what a blog is -learned on the playground with our classmates and a kickball. Today's kids and today's leaders learned it at t-ball. I'll go with the old painted base on asphalt lessons of the school yard. Rarely a tougher bunch of critics then an opposing team of second graders. So many of the first rules of life began with making sure we touched base.

Those early lessons generalize out through the rest of our social economy: to make and keep friends, family, business contacts- touching base is still king. Confession: understanding, and believing this simple principle- I still fail, sometimes in fantastic fashion, while heading towards home... and I really want to touch every base and win at the end of the day. I've decided to change- and change now.

One of the things I love about blogging is the feeling I get that I'm at least making an effort to touch base- but it's not the same as picking up the phone and making a call to one person I care about, or someone I'd like to know better, as opposed to posting my ramblings whenever I feel like it. When I work my way through a list of people I'd like to reach out to with a call, a note card or an email- just because I care -I feel like those guys in the highlight video at the end of a walk off home run. There's no opposing pitcher, no army of disciplines to keep myself fit and ready to step up to the plate, just a willingness to break the barrier that keeps us from experiencing richer, deeper relationships... the kind that help us win day in and day out at the business of living.

hey, after you read this, email me, give me a call- we'll chat, touch base and take one step closer to making it home... together.

blessings,

Eric