Jamming Out to Make My Bones Rattle

 "What are we listening to? Is this your music?!? Tom, you're so old..."

I love these comments. I treasure them. I revel in them. 

I've had a string of trainees at work who are young enough that I probably could have had them in class when I was teaching at the high school. I have enough new music on my playlist that they're cool with me playing DJ at work, but then I bust out with some early Panic! At the Disco or My Chemical Romance and the trainee tells Old Man Lutes that they haven't heard this song in forever... So when Hendrix and the Stones come up in the queue, they think I inherited this mix tape from Jesus himself, when he was doing his emcee thang...

But it's all a joke. I find it very entertaining that I have apparently achieved "old" status at work. But I don't feel old. When I turned 30, I actually told people that I still felt like I was speeding up.

Is It a Bug in the System? Or a Feature?

 So today is Ash Wednesday. And once again I find myself unprepared for Lent.

I'm sensing a pattern emerging in myself.

#BlackFlagForKirby

 The past few days I had been planning on coming in, writing a piece about my frustrations at getting people to do things. Specifically, trying to get a group of well-meaning white folks off their butts and into the work of solidarity and equity.

But that suddenly pales today, because I learned today that a friend of mine has passed. 

Now admittedly, this was not someone I've known since childhood. This was someone I've met in the past year. A friend who served their community as a firefighter and as a paramedic, and who bore the scars from that work.

This friend and I had plans. We were going to start making training videos to be available online, for anyone to learn from. And then they disappeared, went out west I learned later, to help out at the end of the summer. When they came back to Minneapolis/St. Paul, we picked up again and started talking about training. We ran together, trying to keep each other and our community safe. 

I found out today that my friend died of an overdose, shortly after the last time that we ran as medics together.

It was more than a week ago, the last time I heard from my friend. They had disappeared again, but I figured they had gone up north, just like the last time they had gone out west. Just up and disappeared for a while.

I feel guilty.

I feel angry. 

I feel powerless. 

I feel numb.

A different friend of mine reminded me that we can't torture ourselves with hindsight, thinking of what we might have done, trying to identify all the warning signs we may have missed. Easier said than done.

But what is left for us to do? If I cannot look backward, then I should look forward, right? Continue the work of solidarity and equity. Trying to continue to do what my friend would have done, were they still with us here.

So maybe this one is about getting well-meaning white folks off their butts and into the streets. To do the work of solidarity and equity. To raise a black flag. 

Frustrated at the Pandemic and a Lack of Resolution

 This is a story of outrage... and whatever comes after that. 

Earlier this week, some friends invited me out for a social/fitness event. Admittedly, it was an event at a gym that was taking COVID precautions (mandatory masking, limited capacity, scheduled workout start times, etc). They invited me and I did want to go, but I realized that I did not have the spoons to take all the required steps to participate. So I made my apologies and asked whether there was another day that would work.

Later that same day, there was a knock at the front door and Amanda answered it. There, standing (six to ten feet) outside our front door was some dude. As the dog started unloading all her ferocious barking in this guy's general direction, the guy began his story about how he had a bunch of extra steaks after a delivery run, and did we want to purchase any of them "at a total steal!"

Did I mention that this winner was not wearing a mask?

After these interactions, I was feeling filled with something that I may have called righteous indignation. How dare people try to do things during a pandemic! I'm taking it seriously! I've taken all kinds of steps to do what I need to do, at home! I'm quite happy at home, thank you!

Despite this indignation, I did make an effort to keep a level head. I told the guy selling steaks door to door during the pandemic that no, we just stocked up and we didn't need his steaks. And I asked my friends whether we could have a Zoom call to try to find a better time.

Like I said, I think this gym that my friends wanted to go to is doing a good job of adapting to fitness during the pandemic. I did want to find a time to go there with my friends, and they were gracious enough to meet me online to talk about it. 

But as they shared their availability, I came to realize that they had already picked the best (almost the only) time that worked for them to go. With all kinds of family responsibilities that continued during the pandemic, they had kept this night of the week open for them to do something fun. And here I was, asking whether I could do this thing with them on a different day of the week, at a different time. 

I was rebuffed. And I started to wonder whether I had asked for a bridge too far. 

I don't know whether this story has a resolution. I mean, the guy selling steaks door to door? Him I sent away because he was being ridiculous. But my friends? I wanted to see them as much as they wanted to see me. And I found that the circumstances we found ourselves in presented so much more of a hurdle to seeing each other than I had conceived of. 

Just Vibing & Thriving

 I think I may officially be old.

I can already feel my mother do that teenager thing of rolling her eyes at me, so let me qualify my previous statement: like many I do not feel old, but I am definitely not a part of the generation that is coming of age right now.

One of the most recent new employees that I trained in at work, a young woman who has all of eighteen years of life lived, was born around the same time that I was starting high school.

I'm old enough that when I play my music, some of the "young, hip crowd" will make comments about how their dads always played this music. 

So all this is to say that I don't think I've really understood what is meant by the term "vibing" until today. 

I went to an open air event today, and everyone was just walking down the street, jamming out, calling back and forth. And it felt good. 

It seemed like everyone was chill with everyone else. Everyone was keeping an eye out for everyone else, just to make sure everyone stayed safe while we did our thing. My head was on a swivel as I watched what everyone was doing... and yes, making sure that nobody would get hurt. Once a healthcare worker, I guess...

And that's all. I felt like I was where I was supposed to be. I felt like I was spending time with my people. I felt like I was vibing. Just like the kids say these days.

Blogging with the Small, Still Voice

 Do you know, dear reader, how long it has been that I have wanted to make a new blog post? Longer than I care to admit...

I find it fascinating that I started this blog seven years ago. And six years ago I nearly averaged one post a week. I had become very good at what I was doing; my content was on point. And I had something to prove, it was like my foray into self determined homiletics.

There have been so many things that I wanted to process through by blogging more recently... trying to make sense of things the way I used to.

But I think maybe that has been my problem. I want to blog the way that I used to. Long form essays with links and pics and dry sarcasm. 

And then this morning, it was like I got hit upside the head. 

What is the name of this blog? Speaking of Bones. Why do I speak of bones? Because God will always bring the beloved back from oblivion. I really hope that I have not yet made my way into oblivion, but I've also said that God speaks in a small, still voice like Elijah heard it. 

And I think that's the realization that I want to share: I want to blog, but I do not need to blog the same way I used to. I do not need to jump right back in with long essays and links and pics. I can share my daily reflections and realizations. 

And maybe that's something that I can resolve to do.

Of Stick Ball and Riots, Or, Why Am I Armed at a Protest?

It's been a while. But it hasn't been a that long.

I've been home for about a week. But I'm still reeling from what happened.

This is part of a text thread between me and a friend:

The One the Darkness Got

So I went to a funeral last week for a guy I hadn’t met.

Which isn’t important, that I didn’t know him. I decided a long time ago that funerals are important. I don’t just randomly show up to to funerals, but if there is one happening and I have some degree of connection with them, I will go. That is what I decided I would do in this case.

Objecting Conscientiously ,or, How Many People Can I Get Under the Constitution?

Mostly like Band of Brothers

So if the truth is going to be told, dear readers, I have always thought about entering the armed forces. For a long time, that just meant that I liked the idea of being in the military. Never thought much about what the job would actually require. And I may or may not have thought that I would be doing something similar to what I had seen in the World War II movies. Which is of course far removed from what military service is now.

I can’t be the only one who had those kinds of misconceptions.

Hospital Visitation, Or, People are Weird

I feel like I'm always starting my blogs by apologizing for one thing or another; either it's been too long since my last post, or I'm posting late in a church season and I neglected to write anything earlier in the season (that got me on Lent and Easter this year). So therefore I'm not apologizing today for the gap since my last blog post. I will only articulate my regret is that it's getting harder for me to figure out what to write about.

Being in new career fields, one that requires me to protect patient privacy and the other that requires me to keep operational information secure, makes it hard sometimes to figure out what I can write and share.

I borrowed this from Savage Paramedics on Facebook

Anyway, the upshot is that I started a new ministry at church recently: I'm now helping out the group that takes communion to the hospital. I haven't been doing this long, but already I'm realizing that there's something meme-worthy about bringing a spiritual thing into a place of modern healing.

Before I get too far into this (because I feel like some of you might balk and clutch your pearls at what I'm about to share), I offer a disclaimer: I believe in the value of taking things that have spiritual realities to people who could not otherwise access them. And in true fashion, I will share a little of that insight later on... after I share the clutch-your-pearls happenings.

In the Wake of #PolarVortex2019

The Polar Vortex came and went (again; and may come again) in Minnesota! Right on the heels of the government shutdown, school districts across the state and the region were cancelling, in lieu of stupid cold temperatures (that's a scientific measurement, by the way). It's always strange to me that the state itself won't go ahead and call off school when it's colder here than on parts of the surface of Mars, but obviously there are smarter people than me making those decisions...

This from the National Weather Service. And this wasn't
even as cold as it got...

All of the advice from media and the authorities was that we should avoid going out as much as possible. In temperatures like what we had, hypothermia can start in less than five minutes. And I'm not scoffing at that; I've had enough training and done enough winter adventuring to know that you need to prepare to go out, or all kinds of suffering and gnashing of teeth will ensue. But that being said, I know people who do scoff, saying things about when I was your age and mocking those who feel more than chilled at stupid cold temperatures (again, scientific assessment).

I'm of two minds when it gets so cold; I want to stay inside, stay warm. And I want everyone else to do the same. Meanwhile, I also see all the snow and think of how much fun it could be. Though there wasn't much snow during  the Polar Vortex, most of that came afterward. But in regard to wanting people to stay inside, I react with something resembling anger when I see people out walking from place to place when the air can literally freeze your bodily tissues solid. Seems stupid to me. But on the other hand, I feel like there's this you are your brother's keeper thing stirring in me; I have a warm house. How many people don't have that?

Advent Is Coming! And There It Goes...

Happy (liturgical) new year! For those of you, dear readers, who come from less liturgically focused traditions, the season of Advent encompasses the four Sundays before Christmas and prompts us to prepare for Christ's coming as a baby into our world. It's officially the start of the next yearly rotation of liturgical seasons. And I find this season fascinating, because it's both the beginning and the end. It prepares us for Christmas, specifically to recognize that when Christ arrived bodily into this world, he was both the savior (big responsibility) and a defenseless, helpless infant (itty bitty operating capacity).

But Advent also points to the end. And yeah, I mean like that crazy guy on the corner with 'the end is near' on a sandwich board, end of the world type stuff. Advent also prompts us to prepare ourselves and be vigilant for that. Like the story of the ten bridesmaids in Matthew's gospel, we don't know when Christ will come into this world again, so we need to keep alert. And Advent helps us with that, but for me it's also a reminder that the encounter with Christ changes everything. Christ as a baby changes everything. Christ will come again with angels and loud trumpet calls and everything will change.

Did I mention that I'm fascinated by Advent? But I'm also really bad at it. I'm not usually in the groove of Advent until the third or fourth Sunday. And then it's basically over and we've got twelve days for the Christmas celebration. Yay! And I'm that jerk who will insist on saying "Happy Advent" while everyone else is fighting about "Merry Christmas," but I'll start saying "Merry Christmas" on the 25th of December and I'll keep saying it until the 6th of January, while everyone else is like "what is this guy doing? Christmas is over..."

So that's (probably) the end of the didactic part of today's blog...

Working through the Matrix, or, Struggles and Humility

It's odd, sometimes, to see the ways that life may form apparent coincidences. At times, I want to be like Morpheus from The Matrix and assert that there is no such thing as coincidence, only providence. And me being me, I might say only Divine Providence.

But I don't know that I can do that right now. It might be too audacious of me. But at the same time, I do sense a prompt based on this past Sunday's gospel reading and some of the commentary I've heard about it. I feel like those things are prompting me to take a look at where I am now and where I've been over the past five-ish years.

Bonsai! or, Seeking the Good, the True, and the Beautiful

Okay, so: storytime. But at the risk of killing the story, let me give you some background.

What I have discovered while training with the Army is that structures that the Army builds are uses are very functional, but seldom are pretty. In fact, there are very few beautiful things when one is training with the Army. Things tend towards function and uniformity, which makes sense, because it's the Army and that's kinda what we do most of the time. When you go downrange and into the trees, maybe you could look toward the foliage for something beautiful, but more than likely you will be counseled to smell the roses later, if any drill sergeant finds out what you are doing.

However, during training last summer, there was one jarringly beautiful thing that I remember. At Fort Leonard Wood, in the Central Iowa Chapel, there were huge stained glass windows in the worship space. I wish that I could find pictures of that stained glass, because it made me stop and catch my breath after all the camouflage and foliage that I had been looking at...

Here's where the story starts:

I don’t remember how far into training I was that I finally wrote to my wife and told her that we were going to go look at beautiful things when I got home. But I did write that and we did go find beautiful things when I was done. We went to the Como Conservatory in St. Paul. Took plenty of time in the greenhouse, and the zen garden, we walked through the Como Zoo that day, too. But what especially held my attention that day was looking at the bonsai trees.

New Year, But I'm Keeping My Goals

Happy new year! 2018 is only two days old and I feel like I'm standing on a threshold. I'm feeling self-reflective, but that might not be the new year, that might just be my disposition.

For those of you, dear readers, who I get to hang out with semi-regularly, this will seem like me doing my broken record thing. But regardless, I have had the whole gamut of emotions over the past four and a half months. I came back from Army Basic Training in August rearing to go for more training. I was frustrated through September and October that my orders were not getting moved up so that I could go off and finish. Some of October and November, I starting feeling listless, like I couldn't do anything to gain forward momentum (there could be a whole spiritual reflection there are about letting go of what I want to find serenity and providence, etc.) In December Amanda and I took a good hard look at where we stood; what were our opportunities? What were our resources? Where had we already committed our time, and what kind of time and energy did we still have in reserve?

Trust, or, Can We Be Honest for a Moment?

A note to you, dear readers: this started as something I was writing in my notebook when I was frustrated. It turned into... something else. I hope that you find it compelling. There are a lot fewer bells and whistles and pictures and hyperlinks than my usual blog posts.

So here's my dysfunction: I expect that, when people tell me something, especially people that I trust, I expect that what they tell me is objectively true. That doesn't mean that they really want what they say to be true, but rather that it is, beyond a doubt, true. Because why should you have confidence in something that could be false?

And this person that I trust, if they have any doubts in what they're saying, I would hope that they would be upfront about those doubts. Because if I trust you, it is in part because I know that you can be honest. Being honest about something, even if you know that I won't like what you have to say, does not compromise my trust in you. In fact, since we are being honest, I know that I can trust you more.

I am of the opinion that we can talk all day about what we want to be true, or the way we think things ought to be in the world. Let's talk all day, you and me, friend, and let's solve the world's problems. But when it comes down to what we actually do, I want your honesty. And your compulsion for action. Let's yolk ourselves together, friend, because that's what friends do.

The Journey Continues, or, Extra! Extra!

Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Except that this is my life, not some iconic scene from Newsies...

No, seriously, this post has updates from this past week, so it is kinda hot off the presses. Well, I guess it's not hot, I let the news cool for a few days so that I can write about it objectively; as objectively as I can for something so personal.

The Journey So Far, or, This Might Just Be a Listicle...

Last Friday (20 Oct), my wife pointed out to me that it was the one year mark of my enlistment in the Minnesota Army National Guard. So to mark that, I want to share the posts, give some updates, and have some fun with Top 10 lists... this post might seem disjointed, but hopefully there's some fun because of it!

Here is what I wrote about it last year, accentuated by my wife's wonderful photography:

So Amanda has been my primary documentarian for the past 36 hours or so, and a lot has happened in that time. Shaved a beard, went to Ft. Snelling, took the ASVAB test, had the most in-depth physical of my life, and ultimately got sworn into the National Guard. I'm now a citizen soldier, so I will be doing drill one weekend a month, while still teaching at North Lakes (if anyone was concerned about that)
I know that I haven't shared this process with many of you, so let me try to get everyone up to speed and let you ask questions if you want:

My Beloved BSA Is Now Co-Ed! Or, I'm Happy to Have More Eagles

I don't think I'm supposed to do this, but I'm going to because I want a chance to voice my opinions. And that's what a blog is for, right? But in all honesty, I'm not speaking on behalf of the BSA, so what I'm about to write needs expressly be viewed as my opinion, not sponsored nor representative in any way of the BSA. I'm just writing my take and my reactions to the buzz.

Again, I'm not sponsored by, nor a representative of
the BSA, which is also why I'm not using an official logo.

This past Wednesday (11 Oct 2017), the Boy Scouts of America made an official announcement that the organization would be integrating female youth at all levels of the program. This is going to start with Cub Scouts (the BSA children's program) in 2018, and extend to Boy Scouts (the iconic teenage program) in 2019. A copy of the official release can be found on the BSA website.

Before I launch into any arguments from detractors, I first want to emphasize that this is not the first introduction of co-ed programs in the BSA, much less the Scouting Movement at large. The BSA has organized Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, Venturing, Exploring, and Sea Scouts, and only those first two have been persistently all-male, up until the announcement last week. Venturing was officially formed in 1998 and has been co-ed the whole time. Explorers have existed in various forms since 1935 and have been co-ed since 1971. Sea Scouts has also existed in various forms for over 100 years and is also now a co-ed program.

And these are all just programs offered by the Boy Scout of America. The majority of the worldwide Scouting Movement has been co-ed and we in the US are really only matching them now.

So this is really where I want to start the discussion; recognizing that, for people who are up in arms about female youth being included in Scouts, Scouts has been inclusive for both sexes for a long time. Of course, we can talk about the inclusion of LGBT youth as well, but that's another discussion entirely (though my opinion there is not so different from my opinion here).

At any rate, let's talk about why people are upset with the BSA.

Triptych Chaplains, or, Some Parts of BCT Didn't Suck

Two years is a long time.

Or, on the other hand, it can pass in the blink of an eye and you realize that you haven’t updated your blog with anything that resembles consistency. The latter is true for me, dear readers. There have been so many changes in my life recently and my wife and I are still getting ready for more. So many changes that change seems to be our new normal.

There are probably too many changes to describe in a single post. Probably too many changes to update you in a series of blog posts. So I’m not going to do that. The name of this blog is based on the story from the book of Ezekiel where the prophet watches the Lord reanimate his people. So the blog itself is supposed to be telling the story of resurrection that I witness. Therefor, I’m going to do my best with that by just jumping in.