It really does feel like it was yesterday that my little guy was born. After a brief touch of crying, he looked up with those dark, observing eyes and quietly took in the view of his awestruck green parents. And we were never the same.

The hospital let us take him home. It felt like we were getting away with something, walking out to our car with this bundle of fragile, hopeful life. “They’re really just letting us walk out of here?”

Thirteen years later: today. Teen guy.

Many of you parents have already crossed this threshold of becoming the mom or dad of a teenager. I often get from the parents of teens a knowing look about what lies ahead for me. I can only explain the look like this: “Sympathy mixed with humor mixed with what looks like the strain of a difficult bowel movement.” It’s a great face, by the way, and many parents of teens make it. You should go to the mirror and try to duplicate my description. Go ahead, I’ll wait.

They know that there is joy, pain, gray hairs, great talks, misunderstandings, chem changes, and all kinds of stuff coming up in the next several years. I’ve got a long journey ahead of me.

We went out to breakfast this morning (keeping in step with one of his favorite statements from his toddler years: “Special times, dad.”). We sat talking, eating, joking – and it all felt so mixed: sadness, joy, celebration.

I think I would put it this way: I’m transitioning. I  appreciate my son now in different ways – his comraderie, his peer conversations. I’ve come to appreciate his jabbing humor, heart for justice, and quiet voice. He works hard; he is focused; he gets down. He has good days. He needs encouragement. He is my son.

So yeah, it’s going to be a long road. But I’m pumped. I wouldn’t trade one gray hair if it meant missing it. And hey: if you see me making that “moving look”, just remind me about what I said here.

For me personally, the analogy is challenging. Have I let what is true be choked out by worry? Have I let doubt (which can serve us greatly in our pursuit of faith) steal from my journey? What difficulties led me to choose a hard heart, where seeds can’t take root?

I find myself often in these stories. And just like these stories, the point is not to identify alone, but to take action.

• When I have a stone-heart, I examine why, and ask God for help in trust and forgiveness.
• When I have a thorny, weedy-heart, I get to the root of what I’m worried about, or what pursuits are choking God’s good work in me. You can’t wish for a weeded garden; you’ve got to get down and pull!
• When I my seeds are “snatched away”, I ask myself, “Did you let doubt take you down… instea of take you closer to Jesus?”

It’s been a process! I know this, though: roots are the evidence of a seed that grew in good soil.

I don’t know what that’s like. It broke my little Libby’s heart. We were both so relieved to get a call from him just a couple days ago; they had lost everything, but were all alive and together.

Libby is an amazing little person. She is always teaching me things, and the more I trust her and step back, the more she shows me that she can do so much! Maybe you have one of these kind of go-getters? Well, when it came to what we can do for Haiti, for her the solution was simple: $2.21.

That’s a specific amount, isn’t it? It’s also a special amount: it’s what she has. Kind of humbling – it seems like such a small thing but to Libs it was her piggy bank.

It reminds me of the passage in Mark 12 where Jesus is watching people give, and he’s blown away not by the big donors but by the widowed lady who gave a fraction of a penny, yet was all she had.

Encouraging, but humbling. Makes me think: I’m sure that many of us could give without thinking about it. My advice? Don’t.

Don’t give without thinking about it. Think about it. Let it get stuck in your heart. Break your piggy bank.

It’s in no way conclusive; that’s the fun thing about playlists. I’m sure the second I post this I’ll think of another hundred songs to go on it. With that in mind, please do not waste your time sending me posts about all the songs that should have made the cut! I know, I know.

And, so… the reveal:

Mama’s Trippin’ (Ben Harper)
This song will be track 1 on any drive list for me, simply because it was the song on the radio the day that Kristy went into labor with Sydney, and I was stuck in traffic! The irony of the lyrics in that moment (“Daddy’s slippin, and mama’s trippin) continue to bring a smile to my face.

Sittin’ On The Dock Of The Bay (Otis Redding)
Classic stuff! Great choice from my buddy Jenn, who also happens to be the winner of the iTunes card! Congratulations. It was quite the unique process of elimination, using piles of contest names, a tabletop, and a quarter. Now you can buy all the Otis Redding your soul needs.

Pride & Joy (Stevie Ray Vaughan)
Gotta give props to my friend Ben for this one; in fact, we have lots of music styles in common. Even if you hadn’t sent this I would still have it on there, though – it’s too good! This also made my Seattle half-marathon playlist of 2008, and will probably creep onto most playlists I make.

Ready Fuels (Anberlin)
Anberlin is a great band, and despite the question I always get when I mention them (“Who?”), they continue to make great driving rock music. Ready Fuels does it, and bonus: They are great to play air guitar or air drums to. Er… outside the car, of course!

Beautiful Day (U2)
Sunny hopeful rock from our favorite Irish arena packers. Thanks for the suggestion, Chara! Although I must confess, I wondered if I hadn’t posted a U2 song if people would have broken down my door and arrested me. How can you not have U2 on a playlist?

Lord, Save Me From Myself (Jon Foreman)
Jon Foreman makes great introspective folk-rock-stuff. He’s way better known as the frontman of Switchfoot, but I love the solo work he’s done. This is the kind of song you play while you sit in the driveway, the defrost on. Great thoughts.

Weapon Of Choice (Fatboy Slim)
My old buddy Camron (MC Cambo) offered two Fatboy Slim songs, and they were both great, but it spurred me on to a third:  Weapon Of Choice, one of my favorites, and a great one for midday in town traffic. Plus images of Christopher Walken dancing… well, if you know what I’m saying, then you understand.

Friday I’m In Love (The Cure)
Great song. The tempo is great for open roads (50 mph) and freeway onramps. It’s a great driving song, but sometimes it gives me the distinct impression that I’m in a “coming-of-age/finding-out-who-you’re-real-friends-are/realizing-you-love-the-girl-next-door” type movie.  Or an 80′s John Cusack casting call. They’re kind of the same thing, I guess. 

Smoothie Song (Nickel Creek)
Personal choice. This also happens to be one of the better running songs around. Try it.

Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes (Paul Simon)
Love me some Paul Simon. Ben offers Paul Simon, I can’t say no. Since you chose the Graceland album, I had to go with Diamonds… the drums are great for steering wheel tapping.

Thanks for all the suggestions! Hope to see you on the road.

- Some driving songs are thoughtful and mellow (reflective ride)

- Some are fun and upbeat vacation songs (family singing along!)

- And yes, some are definately driving and rocking (get to work!)

The question for the day: What are your driving songs? Throw me a couple – either comment on this post or email me at beezerboyd [at] gmail.com.

I will pull from your songs, post the list, and randomly choose someone from the final compliation to win an iTunes card – so you can load up on your own driving playlist! Go for it! I’ll wrap up the contest and post the results by next Wednesday.

It’s why January is considered the most disciplined month of the year. We have just come out of the other side of a series of food-filled holidays and money-spending months. Add to that the fact that “it’s a new year!”, and you have the formula to start afresh!

Until February hits.

Change is hard. It’s also not as simplistic as we sometimes make it. Here’s an example: Last spring I tore my Achilles tendon. After a reattachment surgery, I spent four months on crutches; no pressure on my foot at all! I wanted so badly to begin moving on my own, but I couldn’t! If I had just stood up on my foot right away, I would have went right back down. And hard.

And therein lies the problem of some January decisions. We find out that there is a process involved, and there might be more steps than we originally planned. We sometimes aren’t prepared to take the full weight of a new decision. So when we fall (e.g. – miss a day of exercise, botch our reading plans, lose our temper, eat fast food) then it’s time to give up… we failed. But failing isn’t falling – it’s quitting. So when you mess up, instead of saying, “I quit!” ask yourself: “What led to my decision?”

I have some goals for 2010, and to me, they’re exciting. But really I have only one main resolution this year: Get back up every time. I’m not going to let imperfection stop my goals. I have let one bummer day ruin several disciplined and motivated and successful days before. I’m squashing that.

Want to join me? Get up one more time than you fall this year! Let’s do it.

Maybe He should have hired a firm.

The advent of Christ was a time-splitting event, forever altering history and human hearts. You would think God could have thought through a better marketing plan.

A young mother, painfully pregnant, stuck in Bethlehem for a government census (the timing!). While in town for the census, she goes into labor, and the Christ-child is born in a hillside stable, and placed in an animal trough as a makeshift crib.

That’s not even the worst of it. God sends His angels to announce this wondrous birth, and where do they go? To whom do they announce this momentous occasion?

“And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:8-12)

Yep, shepherds. Wool-watchers on graveyard shift. The minimum wage guys.

See, if the Almighty had thought this through, he could have alerted the local media, or sent His angels to the movers and shakers of the day; Israel’s version of Hollywood’s hottest. But He didn’t. He didn’t twitter, or post, or use serious networking. He went to the fringes.

He found those that would be ignored, shoved aside, perhaps completely forgotten. And He shared His beautiful advent moment with those guys, kicking off what would be for Jesus every day life: Go to the broken, the forgotten. Those confused, hurt, and misused. Don’t worry about appearances. Go deeper, to the heart. And in this advent season, we are reminded as Christ-followers to keep it up.

Maybe God has this marketing thing down just fine.

Tylenol shouldn’t be at the top of your Christmas wish list. I mean, come on.

Every year it happens, even amongst throngs of people who say they’ll resist it: turmoil over the Christmas season. Why? Why would we ever choose this? And I use ‘choose’ very purposefully. See, I think that all of the stress, worry, maxed credit cards and lack of peace are the result of a choice, albeit subtle.

A choice to worship with part of one of the fastest-growing religions in America: Consumerism.

Now before I’m pelted with holiday cheer in the form of fruitcake thrown in my direction, think it through:

• Credit card offers sent out every fall, with the marketing slant “being able to cross off everything on your Christmas wish list!”
• Stores chock full of extra kiosks and displays – full of strange collections you would never buy anyone (penknife and travel mug set?), except that it’s Christmas and you have no idea what to get Uncle Stewart. And yet you feel like you have to get him something.
• Hours and hours wasted, aimlessly wandering through aisle after aisle of meaningless gifts, only to spend a few measly hours with your family opening them.

These are all symptoms of a much bigger disease. Now please understand: I give gifts. I shop. I buy holiday wares. There’s a sweet place for gift giving and tradition and all of that. Some of my most cherished holiday memories come each year in the form of established family traditions.

For me, though, it’s a deeper problem than gift-giving: I want the holiday season called Christmas to reflect the peace, grace, and joy of Christ. I don’t mean this in some religious social way, like fighting to make CHRISTmas be about Jesus, or demanding government buildings display Christmas trees. I mean this as a personal decision for me, and from the heart of a pastor who sees fellow followers of Christ burnt out from the holidays.

How consumerism has replaced many of the pieces from the original Christmas story:

• The star in the east is replaced by fluorescent lighting and glossy print ads.
• The shepherds keeping watch by night have opted out; late night shelf-stockers at local retails stores prepare the altars for next days worship.
• As opposed to angels singing, “Glory in the highest!” we now hear credit companies shrilly singing: “0% interest and no payments for six months… O.A.C.!”

Solutions? Take it personal. We do not need rallies or protests. We need deep internal change, manifested in our attitudes, holiday focus, and spending habits. Here are a few ideas:

• Spend less. Decide that you will not go into debt for Christmas. One way my family has spent less is to stop buying gifts for every adult sibling – with my brothers, in-laws, and spouses that’s eight presents! We sometimes secretly choose one sibling, but it really makes it easier every Christmas.
• Spend time. Your greatest gift is presence. The huge amount of time spent shopping could be logged at home, playing a game with your family, or baking together.
• Give the gift of serving. Every Christmas season is an opportunity to serve and be a blessing to others. No matter how big or small, make plans with family or friends to serve and touch lives. There are countless shelters, food banks, churches, schools and service groups doing something… get out there!
• Read the Christmas story. Get back to the raw beauty of the story: a humble birth in a hillside stable by a small town girl. That literally changed history. Sit down and read the accounts (found in the gospels of Matthew and Luke) of Jesus’ birth.
• Create honoring traditions. What will you add to your holiday season that brings honor? Peace? Joy?

I hope you have a beautiful Christmas season… Tylenol free and clear of shopping madness!

And it sucks sometimes.

Here’s why: It all falls under the label “social media”. And in a day when the most social interaction someone might have is to invite you to join their Farmtown, we could be heading towards trouble. A few thoughts:

- Social Media allows opportunities to interact (comment, reply, retweet) in a way that gives me the illusion that I have lots of meaningful social connections. It’s misleading, though; these comments can make me feel like I’ve connected with a good dozen friends today, but have I? Perhaps on a limited level. But part of the beauty of a real relationship is that it goes beyond a few witty or warmhearted comments. There is stretching, disagreeing, and something that can’t be achieved in social media: personal space. I want to share my heart with a friend in unguarded fashion (something hard to online digital media) – as well as without 20 comments posted about it.

- Social Media, for many, is a business tool, not a social tool. Being a tool, people will use it to build what they want; some people will use it to build into their social lives, and some will use it to build their own empires. Case in point: I get weird people I don’t know twittering back to me about what I just wrote, in some way that tries to say we’re chums – “Hey, @beezerboyd, I totally feel ya man! You’re crrrraazy!” Wouldn’t be so bad if I knew them, or had any social connection to them. But I don’t; they just added me to their list like some hip business blog told them to. I’m being twitter-stalked by somebody who wants to make me feel like we’re buds, but really just wants to sell something.

- Social Media has become a way to seem to know somebody. It has the equivalent feeling to sitting at a certain table during high school lunch. A great example is the Retweet, which has come to be something of an awkward name-dropper for twitter-crushes: “RT @joeschmoe I’m totally into fava beans. // yeah, I’ll get you some Chianti!” But you don’t know Joe Schmoe, it just feels good to kind of know him. Publically, that is. And that’s kind of weird; we don’t really want or need to know Joe Schmoe, we just want others to know we kind of (sort of (at least on Twitter)) know him.

- Social media gives us the opportunity do send out large amounts of personal social information without the need to develop a strong social tie. Which means that I could live a somewhat closed off life in the non-digital world – the people closest to me not really knowing how I am doing, while people I haven’t seen since high school are aware of my every step (“Tripped over my own feet today. Mornings!”) This allows us the anonymity that keeps us relationally safe (right alongside stagnant and isolated), yet the digital comments convincing us we have connections.

I’m no tech expert; I have no doctorate on social media. I’m also not a big rant guy. It’s just that community and living-breathing-face-to-face-people are real needs of the heart; to know and be known. Social media can add to this, but social media cannot replace this. If your friend posts that they are home sick, you could comment “Bummer! Get better!” And that would be nice of you. But what if you made some real deal chicken soup and went and saw them? Now we used social media for what it can be: open doors towards social living.

As long as chicken soup doesn’t become some business blog’s new social media model. If that happens, I might start a Mob War in Farmville.

I was looking through some summer 2009 food pics that brought back some great memories; thought I’d share them.

1. Crawdads in Buttah: Had a great time this summer camping with friends down on the Deschutes. After tubing, we waded through the river catching these little delights; a quick boiling and some melted butter made ‘em rock and roll. Just like when I was a wee lad.

2. Kansas City BBQ: Got a chance to take a quick trip out to Kansas City this summer; an opportunity to share in a church planting discussion. Got to meet a large table full of incredible leaders with big hearts and big vision.

Since my flight into Kansas City got screwed up, I missed a KC Royals game, but I didn’t miss out on some Kansas City BBQ. That’s me looking all primal. It’s hard not to feel a little caveman-ish when you are eating meat off a bone the size of your forearm. 

3. Eatin’ at Beau Legs: Once you eat at this place, you know you’re coming back. A lot. Period. Beau Legs in Lacey, Washington. In fact, why aren’t you there by now?

My friends Justin & Jennifer led me to this oasis of goodness. Catfish, greens, fried okra, brisket sandwiches, etc. And my personal favorite: The shrimp po’boy. Just ask for Frank’s Hot Sauce; they keep it in the back.  

4. Grilled Peaches in Summer: I love to grill. I love eating with the family; my kids, brothers and siters, mom and dad, & nephews. Lots of food (we are the frightened food family), then playing 500 football on the lawn.

And one particular day: Grilled peaches with honey and cinnamon over vanilla bean ice cream. So good. Make a grown man cry.