Outlive Your Life by Max Lucado

Often we find we are not putting our faith into action.  That what we do seems temporal or lacks potential eternal significance.  Max Lucado addresses such thoughts and concerns in Outlive your life.  After reading Fearless, I felt this would be a good second Max Lucado book to read.  Lucado remains extremely readable.  The words flow well and the stories can be heart-wrenching/warming.  In this Book, Lucado takes the first 12 chapters of Acts and uses them to speak on the need for us, as followers of Christ, to engage the world and make a difference.

In this book, Lucado strikes his pastoral tones and each chapter comes out like a sermon…a good sermon.  Max pulls at your emotions while grounding you in the text of scripture, albeit at a high level.  I found myself emotionally moved to further take on our call to live according to the ways that were reflected in our savior and the early disciples.  Mr. Lucado writes at a high level.  His writings are grounded in sound theology, but theology is not what you will get in this book.  This book focuses on application which is consistent with the author’s style.  The book was enjoyable and moving.  

One hundred percent of the author royalties from Outlive Your Life products will benefit children and families through World Vision and other ministries of faith-based compassion.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Thomas Nelson Publishers as part of their BookSneeze.com <http://BookSneeze.com> book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 <http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html> : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

More and Less

Thoughts for the new year (in no specific order):

Write more, tweet less
Move more, eat less
Pray more, surf less
Listen more, talk less
Serve more, judge less
Love more, complain less
Play more, sit less
Give more, spend less

I do not resolve anything, but I do hope to improve.

Eating healthy and guilt free during the holiday season

Your basic salad, by layer is as follows:
1. Vegetables and maybe a little meat
2. Cheese
3. Dressing
4. Bread (Croutons)
You now have a guilt free healthy dish.

Turn it upside down:
1. Bread
2. Dressing
3. Cheese
4. Vegetables and maybe a little meat
If your dressing is tomato based and you reduce the fat/oil a little, you essentially have a pizza. 

Conclusion: Pizza is better for you than salad....Happy Holidays!!!

Fearless by Max Lucado

Fear of Insignificance? Upsetting God? Financial Upheaval? Losing Your Job? Death? In Max Lucado’s book Fearless, the author looks to word pictures, analogies and most importantly, scripture, to address these and many other common fears. Fear constrains us from what God wants us to be. It limits our service, worship, witness and joy.

This was the first Max Lucado book I had ever read, I wasn’t disappointed. I found the author easy to read and his writing style has a familiar tone. His pastoral nature comes through in his word pictures and analogies as well as references to both the old and new testaments make reading this book very was not the least bit intimidating, which reflects the tone you would expect when someone tells us not to be afraid. While reading this book, I felt like I was sitting in a room with Max, while he was providing encouragement and conviction where needed. I found Fearless very appropriate and timely, not only from a national or international perspective, but from a personal one. The book reads like a series of sermons, which brings additional value to the book since I can reference it when needed during times of anxiety. With each topic, Max makes a compelling case, to consider scripture and our God when anxiousness and fear constrain us. And in the end, he helps us realize that the only healthy fear is in God and His limitless power.

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Thomas Nelson Publishers as part of their BookSneeze.com <http://BookSneeze.com> book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 <http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html> : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

How would Jesus Vote?

From Max Lucado's book, Fearless:

"Politicians pull box-sized versions of Jesus off the shelf asserting that Jesus would most certainly vote green; conservative; often; never; like a hawk, dove or eagle. The Jesus-of-my-politics comes in handy during elections."

I appreciate his facetiousness. He goes on to talk about how you cannot put God in a box.

Celebrating "Yes" 19 years later

Warning: Recycled Post. Originally posted on 7/23/07


Nineteen years ago, I had the privilege of participating in a short term mission project. My girlfriend Tina and I had been actively involved with Campus Crusade for Christ and this was where we had essentially met and built our relationship. Tina and I had been dating for about a year and a half when we felt led to go with Operation Mobilization to Birmingham and Bradford, England. The trip was life-changing in so many ways. Seeing people learn about Jesus and grow in their faith as well as being able to serve alongside other believers from every corner of the globe was an experience I will not soon forget. But I have to say the biggest part of this trip; the part that has changed my life the most, (and for the better), was the evening of July 23rd, 1991. Seventeen years ago today.

After spending the day doing direct/assertive evangelism in Birmingham, the large group of international missionaries were to go back to the Elim church where we were having evening meetings. This usually consisted of dinner, worship and a message. Well, Tina and I were on different teams and hadn't seen each other all day so I had asked my team leader, Ian, for a place I could go in the evening with my girlfriend. So when we got to the church, I told Tina that we were playing "hookie" from the meetings and going out to dinner.

The day was typical of England in mid-July. A light drizzle and temperature in the 50-60 degree range. Not ideal I suppose but there is something about an English rain that makes it a little less of a downer. (I was amazed by how little the weather affects the English. I suppose when it's something you're used to, it doesn't bother you). Well, I took Ian's advice and we headed to a local street where there were a number of restaurants. There was even one touted as "American Cuisine," but we opted to pass on that. We settled on a place appropriately called "Valentino's." It being a Tuesday, the place was empty and quiet. I asked if what we were wearing was acceptable and he told us to come on in. After 10 days or so in Europe, it was really nice to get away by ourselves and not have to think about everything going on around us. We sat by candlelight and I think we talked about the future and probably talked about the mission trip we were on, but it's hard to recall. I can't remember much of the conversation, but being in love, I'm sure it was good. Tina and I shared our dinners: Chicken Marsala and Spaghetti Bolognese. Afterwards, I asked the host if we could take the candle with us for memorabilia. He probably thought we were being silly, but of course he said "yes." A half-burned candle isn't something you keep on a table anyhow but it was a nice reminder for us. When we left, I noticed that the rain had finally stopped. This was an incredible blessing because I was hoping we could find a nice place to sit after dinner before heading back. We walked up the hill we had come down earlier and stopped at a BP "Petrol" station to ask for directions/advice. This being "pre-blackberry," we were at the mercy of a local in order to find some place to go. We asked the lady at the counter if there was a park or something nearby to walk to and she mentioned there was one but wasn't sure if it was walking distance from there. Just then a local cab driver came in and he told us about Grove Park and said it was a little far to walk. He offered to take us as a courtesy! What are the chances that the rain would stop and a cab driver would take us there for no charge? We thanked the man profusely and Tina gave him some Smarties as a "thank you." (Smarties are not American smarties...they're like M&M's).

The park had a nice pond and the sun was just behind the trees from where we sat. Again we continued our conversation and enjoyed the serenity of the evening. Very few people were out, and we felt like we had the place to ourselves. With the rain stopped it had turned into a pleasant evening. I was pleased with how the evening had turned out. In some ways it was how I had hoped it would be when I proposed to my wife. So with my heart in my throat and my knees on the ground, I slipped a ring on Tina's finger and asked her to marry me. I don't know what possessed her to do so, but after a moment of disbelief, she said "yes."


Engagement is often overlooked as far as a milestone. However when you think about this, engagement is a huge commitment! It is my belief that engagement is where the real commitment is and the ceremony follows later. The man is essentially saying, "I'm all in," and for a moment which seems like eternity, waits to hear the response. In my case, Tina said she was "all in" too. Once this is done, it's extremely difficult for a couple to turn back. I have a hard time seeing how a once-spurned proposal could turn into a happy marriage. I'm sure it's done, but I suspect that it's not a point of fond memories and I'm guessing a lot of folks go their separate ways after such an occasion. For me, I was incredibly blessed. Tina is as close to a perfect complement to me as there can be. It is hard, and virtually unthinkable for me to think of life without her. She's an incredible wife and mother of our two boys.

Like many, when you participate in a short term mission project, you experience things that alter your perception of life. You become a more open-minded and loving person and you have experiences that you will never forget. Although this was one of the many memories from the trip, it was also the one that made the most impact on me. Anyone who knows Tina, knows how loving and caring she is and I have the honor and privilege to spend virtually every day of my life with her. What more could I ask for?

Tina,
thanks for saying "yes" 19 years ago and for loving me "no matter what" since then. I love you.

Perfect Game - not

If you missed it, Armando Galarraga pitched a perfect game, but due to terrible call by umpire Jim Joyce, it was lost after 8 and 2/3 innings. The call wasn't even close. The umpire blew it. To put this in to perspective, prior to this year, 18 perfect games had been thrown in the entire history of Major League Baseball. Those who have done it join an elite group. Galarraga will not be one of them do to an errant decision by the umpire.

However, there are larger messages to be learned from last night's perfect game that wasn't. If I were watching it with my son, I would hope to point out the following after the bad call:

• Nobody is perfect.
  
• Life is not fair. Never think it is.

The day after, here is one article that puts things in an even better perspective. In light of that article, I would note the following to my son:

1. The umpire acknowledged his mistake: "I just cost that kid a perfect game," he said.
2. The umpire approached the pitcher and expressed remorse and apologized. Apparently he had tears in his eyes and apologized multiple times the story above said.
3. Immediately after the call, Galarraga was smiling while many were wanting the umps head. Galarraga offered forgiveness. In reference to the situation, he even said to reporters, "What am I going to do?" and "Nobody's Perfect." Classy.

So while the rest of us are screaming, the pitcher and umpire are making things right. They are showing us how to handle the fact that we are not perfect and that life is NOT fair. They are showing us not perfection, but perhaps human nature at it's best. In the grand scheme of things, I'd rather observe these actions over 27 batters not reaching first base.

Another parting thought...

Here's another upside... Galarraga will not be on the growing list of those who have pitched perfect games. But how many can you name on that list? I've got two. Don Larsen who did it in a World Series, and Tom Browning who did it for the Reds, (and I listened to it while it happened). So I can remember two, but I also know of two games that were "almost perfect." Babe Ruth got thrown out of a game after walking the first batter he faced and Ernie Shore picked the runner off of first and then retired the next 26 batters. Shore was perfect, but since a runner reached first, it is only considered a combined no-hitter. And now I will remember this game where Armando Galarraga retired, in reality, 28 batters...with one really bad call. Ironically, and fortunately, he will likely be remembered more because of this than if he had pitched a perfect game.

Good Friday: Despised

Unashamedly reposted from last year:

I believe last year at this time I was also thinking about Isaiah 53. What a wonderful chapter it is! I find great encouragement in the words that were written prior to the Sacrifice that our Lord made for us on the cross. Today we remember that day.

I consider the following:

• Jesus, in the Garden with the weight of the following day on his heart and mind. He had such dread of the following day he asked the Father if there was another way.
  
• His closest friends in their weakness sleeping while he laments the pain and burden forthcoming. Imagine how alone he must have felt!
• A disciple kissing him, as a sign of complete betrayal, greed and evil.
  
• Another disciple, who Jesus himself said he would build his church on, denying he even knew Jesus...three times.
  
• The mockery, the hate, the thorns, the cursing, laughing, striking, spitting, nailing, hanging and piercing...

I can't truly imagine it completely. But it was done. And it was done by people like you and me. And he suffered it for people like you and me.

Who believes what we've heard and seen? Who would have thought God's saving power would look like this?

The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling,
a scrubby plant in a parched field.
There was nothing attractive about him,
nothing to cause us to take a second look.
He was looked down on and passed over,
a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand.
One look at him and people turned away.
We looked down on him, thought he was scum.
But the fact is, it was our pains he carried—
our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us.
We thought he brought it on himself,
that God was punishing him for his own failures.
But it was our sins that did that to him,
that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins!
He took the punishment, and that made us whole.
Through his bruises we get healed.
We're all like sheep who've wandered off and gotten lost.
We've all done our own thing, gone our own way.
And God has piled all our sins, everything we've done wrong,
on him, on him.

He was beaten, he was tortured,
but he didn't say a word.
Like a lamb taken to be slaughtered
and like a sheep being sheared,
he took it all in silence.
Justice miscarried, and he was led off—
and did anyone really know what was happening?
He died without a thought for his own welfare,
beaten bloody for the sins of my people.
They buried him with the wicked,
threw him in a grave with a rich man,
Even though he'd never hurt a soul
or said one word that wasn't true.

Still, it's what God had in mind all along,
to crush him with pain.
The plan was that he give himself as an offering for sin
so that he'd see life come from it—life, life, and more life.
And God's plan will deeply prosper through him.

Out of that terrible travail of soul,
he'll see that it's worth it and be glad he did it.
Through what he experienced, my righteous one, my servant,
will make many "righteous ones,"
as he himself carries the burden of their sins.
Therefore I'll reward him extravagantly—
the best of everything, the highest honors—
Because he looked death in the face and didn't flinch,
because he embraced the company of the lowest.
He took on his own shoulders the sin of the many,
he took up the cause of all the black sheep.

-Isaiah 53 (The Message)

The Missional Church

Thanks to Paul Walker at Out of the Cocoon for pointing me to this video.  One of the terms I hear frequently these days is “the Missional Church.”  Okay so what does that mean?  The following video is brilliant.  When watching this I asked myself, “How well do churches in America do this?”  Or more importantly, “How well am I modeling this within my church?”  I’ve got a long way to go, I’m afraid.  If this is the definition of a MIssional Church, is there any church that shouldn’t be missional?  How about you?  Do you take the “missional” approach in your daily actions?

 

Praying for Prayer

It occurred to me yesterday that there are two general ways in which we come to God in prayer:

We come willingly and thankful. Praise comes easy when we are thrilled with how God is working in and around us. Some would say this happens with the mountaintop experiences of our lives. I would agree although I'm not sure it has to be a mountaintop. It can happen with small things. We can go there quickly and often. When we see a child studying the wonders of God's creation, or when we meet someone that you know God sent your way for encouragement. There are many reasons and ways to come willingly, and it's good to find them.

We also come with a needful heart. Our health is in question or the health of others is. When we see others hurting or in need of understanding what God has already done for them. We come then asking, yearning and even begging for God's will to be the same as yours. (Of course, I think it's more the converse. We should come praying that we are joining His will in this situation). We come in states of grief.

Here's one other thing I've noticed. As one might expect with the ups and downs of life, there is a space in between. A time when our knees are not tired and sore. They're "fine." Which is what we're thinking as well. That everything is "fine." Of course there are "prayer warriors" who are exceptional in avoiding this area, but I think for most of us there's this cruise control gap where we don't think of praying and praising our Creator.

What should we make of this? Or, more humbly, what should I make of this? Well, I see two goals in here for me personally. One is an intermediate goal and then there's a subsequent goal to progress to afterwards. My first goal is to shorten the gap. I should desire a more intimate relationship with God when things are "fine" and I believe God desires this too. There's a lot of area between the mountains and valleys and I should maintain my fellowship with Him. Secondly, after shortening the gap, I should work on motive. The second reason to go to God in prayer, (during the "downs" of life), should be fueled with an altered motive. In my opinion, I should go with a less selfish heart. Less, "I hurt so make it better," and more, "God, you are sovereign, and I ask for understanding and the ability to Glorify You through these trials regardless of whether my desires and Your will are the same." Does that make sense? That we seek to Glorify God and submit to His Will for His working?

So How do we get there? I mean, how do I get there? Well, I can try to obtain these goals. But I think I need to think differently. Try as I might, much of what needs to be done here I should also leave to God. For the new year, I pray for prayer. That God would yield in me a desire to communicate with him frequently, if not constantly. Much like is written in verses 16-18 (in bold) of the scripture below:

Now we ask you, brothers, to respect those who work hard among you, who are over you in the Lord and who admonish you. Hold them in the highest regard in love because of their work. Live in peace with each other. And we urge you, brothers, warn those who are idle, encourage the timid, help the weak, be patient with everyone. Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always try to be kind to each other and to everyone else. Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus. Do not put out the Spirit's fire; do not treat prophecies with contempt. Test everything. Hold on to the good. Avoid every kind of evil.
-1 Thessalonians 5:12-22 (NIV)

Christmas Eve Service thoughts

We visited a different church tonight for Christmas Eve. It's actually a good night to visit since the services at virtually any church are packed, everyone seems like visitors, even in your own church. With all that goes on during a Christmas Eve service, I come home with two various but to me, moving points.

1. At this church a special offering was taken tonight to help many who are struggling with housing costs, unemployment etc. Nearby, I watched a child no older than 10 scrounging through his Bible case. Starbursts, suckers, gum were coming out, but he was obviously looking for money before the plate got to him. He was unprovoked to do this and I could help but be moved by the generous heart I was watching. Wow!
2. Not unrelated, the pastor also asked the question of who we believe has shared the Gospel around the world more than any other person. Apparently a study has been done, and it isn't Paul, Billy Graham, Brother Andrew or some other well-known evangelist. Nope, they say it's Linus van Pelt. Linus apparently "got it" at a very young age and wasn't afraid to let others know. Another thing the pastor said tonight that I hadn't realized is that this is the one time where Linus drops his security blanket. Considering that public speaking is one of the greater fears in life, he clearly had all of his hope and security in the One whose birth we celebrate tomorrow. So without further ado, let's let Linus "Lay Down" the blanket and the Good News and tell us again what Christmas is all about.

Merry Christmas!

A two minute challenge I can't get out of my head

A short post today. Perhaps these are "baby steps" into me beginning to post more regularly again. I saw this video on someone else's blog, but the level of challenge is profound if you think about it. Watch this and then consider your church:



OK, now you've probably made an assessment about your church, and that's fine. You probably also made an assessment about "Soul City Church" too. Fine again. So now watch it again and do the same for yourself. I'm trying to think about what this means to ME...not my church. It's really easy for me to post this. To say in my head and my heart "YES!" Moving that feeling from my head and heart to my hands and feet is a different matter. I pray this haunts me until I do something about it seven days a week. And that when I do, that the Glory goes to Him and not me.

5th graders win! Theeeee 5th graders win!!!

So, the other day my son comes home and tells me he didn’t enjoy playing football at recess.  I asked him why and he said his team didn’t do well.  I dug deeper and this is what I found.  It seems that in typical class order, the 5th graders decided the teams.  In particular, all the 5th grade “studs” decided the teams.  They essentially said, “OK, how about all of you 3rd and 4th graders on one team and the rest of us will do our best to give you guys a fight.”  Well, being an “underclassman” the younger kids agreed.  I mean, hey, there were more of them, right, so it should be fair.  And besides, the 5th graders are older than them and it is a class system, so what were there choices?  Well, needless to say the bigger faster and older kids took care of them.  I’m sure there were plenty of interceptions, fumble recoveries and long runs and passes for touchdowns.  Who doesn’t like to be on the winning side of that?  Well needless to say it wasn’t much fun for the younger ones.  I told my son that he DID have an option though.  He could choose not to play and/or speak up about the lack of parity.  Lesson learned.

On a completely unrelated note <wink wink>, I’d like to congratulate the New York Yankees on another World Series championship.  I know a lot of Yankees fans who are very happy about this.  I’m happy for them.  For the rest of the fourth-graders out there….well, maybe next year.  :-)

Effective Meetings

I have written previously about facilitating meetings.  Somewhat akin to that post would be the “effective” meeting I was in today.  My boss had asked me about a month ago to attend in her absence in which I of course said yes.  In doing so, I missed a team meeting of which I am the co-chair.  But hey, when your boss asks you to do something, you make arrangements to do it.  Since I was going in her place, I also was sure to wear a tie.  For those of you who know me, you know that’s serious.  Whenever I go to one of these high-powered meetings as a proxy I am sure to send notes to my boss.  Below is a slightly altered version of what I sent her today:

Meeting began with attendees discussing whether we had an agenda or facilitator.  After about 5 minutes of small talk it was determined that we had neither.  Mary asked Jake about H1N1 cases on campus.  Jake said we have had approximately 60 cumulative cases in which about 35 are active.  Meeting adjourned.

Please Note: H1N1 cases on campus has nothing to do with the purpose of this committee. 

The Scar

Sunny late summer mornings in Northern New Jersey are beautiful and this day was no exception.  The sky was clear and the sun was bright.  The air was already saying it was early fall.  Living west of my workplace meant that sun glare would cause delays and make for a longer commute to work.  Thankfully, my job didn’t start until 9am.  Nevertheless, I was running behind which was often the case, especially with an 18 month boy at home with my wife, Tina.  While traveling Route 10 in Morris county, I listened to the local Christian station for a while and figuratively rolled my eyes at the annoying traffic.  Many of the schools were starting back and that made the traffic even worse.  I didn’t like being late although it happened fairly frequently.  I was just over halfway to work when I grew tired of the radio station, so a few minutes before 9 I switched the radio to the local (NYC) Top 40 station.  It didn’t take long before I realized by the tone of Scott Shannon’s voice that something was wrong.  He said something along the lines of, “We’re not sure exactly what has happened, but it is something horrible.”  I woke up a little more and switched to news radio at WABC in New York.  It was then I found out that what appeared to be a plane had flown into one of the towers of the World Trade Center.  They went to the phones where an eyewitness on the streets in Manhattan began to recount what he had seen.  I was amazed…and shocked!  I imagined in my head a small private plane and an explosion as I listened intently to what this guy was describing…but it wasn’t over.  Just then, the caller exclaimed, “Oh my God, another one!.  The other tower is hit!  The heat!…”  My jaw dropped and my hand covered my mouth- a gesture I had never remembered making before and hope to never make again.  I was completely shocked as I moved over a couple lanes to exit off route 10 in Parsippany to make the last few turns into my work.  I wondered if the cars around me had heard what I had heard.  And were they were struggling to drive because of it.  Thoughts rushed through my head as I continue to listened.  I remember WABC having an “expert” on soon after who said, “Well, it’s too early to determine whether this was a true act of terrorism or not.”  That remains the most ridiculous thing I remember hearing on that day.  Everybody knew.  It wasn’t wondering whether it was terrorism, it was wondering who the terrorists were.

I arrived at work and went to the row where my desk was and asked if anyone had heard what had happened.  I can’t remember who had or hadn’t, but I do remember telling one of the managers about it as well.  Later, before I left New Jersey for North Carolina, he told me he would never forget me, because I was the one who told him about what had happened that morning.  I don’t know how I feel about being remembered this way.  I wasn’t the scar, but I was telling Frank he was about to have one.  I did the same, I’m sure, when I told my wife over the phone to “Turn on the news.”  News travelled quickly in the office of course, and with it feelings of shock and adrenaline.  My boss actually told us to keep working.  Really?  Work?  There was no way to concentrate.  We were paralyzed.  But work?  Not anytime soon, I’m sure.  You need focus for that.  About an hour later, someone got wind of the Pentagon, but that was further away and my head couldn’t digest that now that the numbness had set in.  Someone then heard that the first tower had collapsed.  I thought perhaps a few hundred people would be killed at impact and that those below would simply walk down the stairs and out into the street, and those above would be rescued by helicopters.  I remembered thinking that if it collapsed straight downward that couldn’t be too bad because surely everyone was out of the tower by then. It was a naive thought, but it’s still in my head.   We were numb.  We would be for, not hours, but days.  By late morning, we were leaving for home.  Traffic was heavy again with everyone thinking the same thing; “I just want to be home with my family.”  I remember hugging my wife and then watching the news…all day.  It was ironic to see my 18 month old play while this was all unfolding.  He had no idea.  Actually, I still don’t know if he has an idea.  It might be a discussion tonight…

Time becomes hazy and you don’t remember all of your thoughts, but you remember some.  I didn’t know any one who worked in the Trade Center towers, but I knew plenty of people who could have been there that morning “on business.”  I worried about them. I lived within the commuting distance to Manhattan, and some people within our borough were lost, but I didn’t know any of them.  Newscasters spoke of 20,000 estimated deaths in the towers.  There was a sense of irony and relief each time the estimate was lowered.  Sometime during that day I recall thinking how grateful I was for the first day of school and sun glare.  Surely less people had made it to the WTC on time for work due to the change in traffic patterns. 

The days that followed were a blur as well.  It was back to work on the 12th but I don’t recall if I stayed the whole day.  There is one part of the trip on Route 10 where you are up on a large hill and you can see out over New Jersey.  That morning, there was a plume of smoke on the horizon.  Living a good 45-60 minutes from the City, I couldn’t believe I saw what I saw, but I am all but positive that this it.  When I was at work, I wondered if our building would be a target.  It sounds irrational now, but that was the thought.  I taught a class at a local community college.  My first lecture after the attack, my students just stared at me.  Their eyes were clearly saying, “Please don’t make us think. We can’t concentrate.”  It was still too soon to resume “life” so I sent them home.  Somewhere in the midst of it all, life began again, but thoughts remain.  I remember more than one Sunday at church imagining some terrorist coming into the church in the middle of the service and firing on us.  I had plans in my mind on how I would react if this happened.  A few weeks later the anthrax attack, which originated in NJ, hit the news as well.  Within a week, white powder had been sent to our church.  We had a guest speaker that weekend and we ended up borrowing a local reservation hall and having our service their.  Nothing became of the white powder, but it was still terrorism.  A month later, I had a week of training in the CBS building in Manhattan.  Taking the train in, there was one point where you could see the skyline.  Looking at it without those buildings was like looking at someone for the first time after they had lost a limb.  Your brain just didn’t want to compute the change and it hit me once again.  During training, people were still talking about it.  Those who live in the city would talk about the lingering smell from the rubble.  Going home from training, I’d take the subway back to New York Penn and find armed military personnel throughout the station.  I found myself thankful for their out-of-place presence.  From then on, the memories faded.  This was the deepest part of the wound.  The most central part of the scar.  But like scars, memories fade, especially around the edges.  Above is what remains.  Many have taken time over the past eight years to pause, remember and honor.  I have never been too much for that.  Of course I remember.  I may even pause.  I think now is the first time, I have truly tried to recall my thoughts from eight years ago.  There were many of them that have been forgotten, but this is what remains of that time.  Some scars fade and some disappear.  Some remain and become part of who you are.