I’m sure I’ve heard this sentiment expressed somewhere.  But since an exhaustive search (I googled) didn’t reveal the source I shall take credit for it if no one else claims it.

The way I explained this to my students recently is that science (which comes from scientia which means “knowledge”) is an ever expanding field.  We are constantly learning and expanding our understanding of our world, how things work, why they work the way they do and how we can make things work better.  So the things that seem impossible or even magical now are merely things that we don’t fully understand.  In the past many of the things that people would have considered magic and even burned at the stake for, are now accepted and practiced worldwide because it has gone from being magical to being science.  Take cell phones, airplanes, DVDs, TVs and a thousand other devices back to 17th century Salem and see how warmly you are welcomed.  Try also taking a fire extinquisher if you didn’t get the pun in the previous sentence.

Imagine that every piece of practical knowledge (not trivia) were a page in a universal science book.  Earliest man had a thin book but kept adding pages to it.  ”Fire hot.”  ”Fall hurt.”  ”Eve like Apple.”  By the time of the Roman Empire this book was rather large, say 3 feet high.  Now this book has reached the ceiling at least.  So the question is where will the book end?  When will we know everything about our world and universe?  About Cosmology, Health, Physics, Time, Life? 20 feet? 100? 1,000 feet?

The impression I get from watching many documentaries and reading a few books is that we’re almost done.  Mankind has arrived.  Sure there may be some gaps here and there but for the most part we’ve gotten things pretty well sorted out.

Reminds me of the knowledge paradox; “The more you know, the more you know, you don’t know.”  Or in other words, the more you learn about the world the more questions you have.  The fact that most of us have gotten complacent simply means we don’t know enough to know how much we don’t know.  Saya tidak tau indeed (Indonesian for “I no know”).

I think in someways Mankind has entered its 16th year and we know everything.  Or at least we think we do.

I know that there is a lot we don’t know and that excites me.  I like the discovery, the investigation, the exploration.

“The Sky WAS the limit, what’s Next?” Is the sign that was recently put up at my school from Mouser Electronics during our Space Station downlink.  I think the question is a great one.

This past week I showed my 6th grade classes the animated short film “Flatland” based on the classic satirical/math/dimensional novel by Edwin Abbot in 1884.  The basic argument of the book is that there must be other dimensions that we haven’t discovered or accessed yet.  These 4th or 5th dimensions would do for our world what a 3rd dimension would do for a two dimensional world of “Flatland.”

Interesting because in the 100+ years since this book was written scientists and mathmeticians have discovered that there may be as many as 10 or 11 dimensions.  Einstein argued that time is the 4th dimension and his theories suggested even more dimensions beyond ours.

I think that these other dimensions are where angels, demons and other spiritual beings reside.  They can and do enter our dimension but there home is not here.  They are supernatural only so much as their home is beyond our natural dimensions but a better description might be ultranatural or interdimensional.  Its inner not upward or northward.  Today in church our pastor, Gary Hutchison, was talking about the rapture and how according the prophecies and scripture Jesus will open the sky like a scroll when he comes back for his church.  I’m thinking that that is when the 4th or 5th dimension (depending on if you count time as the 4th dimension) is revealed.  If Jesus is to reveal it at this point, then it makes sense to me that we will never experience it through our own efforts, but we can logically infer its existence.

Gives a weird sort of perspective to such scriptural concepts as Jesus living in our hearts, the kingdom of Heaven being here, communion and being born again.  What if something really is occurring during these moments but on another dimensional plane?

I’ve written this seven years ago (link) but will restate it since I want credit for discovering it if it proves correct.  I believe that God’s Glory is what scientists are calling Dark Matter and Dark Energy.  Like extra dimensions, we know mathematically that they exist but we haven’t yet experienced or seen them.  Right now many scientists are trying to capture evidence of dark matter in super colliders around the world.  How do we know it exists if we’ve never seen it?  Well, cosmologists have looked at the stars, galaxies and space (collectively “the Heavens”) and can’t understand how they maintain their shapes and orbits.  There isn’t enough material or matter to explain their orbits, spin or spirals.  However, if you add a whole bunch of dark matter (some estimates say as much as 80% of the universe is dark matter and dark energy) then the math adds up and what we see in the sky suddenly makes sense.  Reminds me of the verse “The Heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth his handiwork.” Psalm 19:1

So my conclusion is that the dark matter we are looking for is actually the glory of God.  So when Jesus sees the crippled man and heals his hand he says its so that the glory of God would be revealed.  Is there a bridge happening between dimensions where God’s glory (dark matter) manifests in our world when miracles occur?  I think there is definitely a link.  And while God will share his glory with no man, I want credit for making the connection.  And yes, I’m aware of the irony and God knows I’m mostly joking.

Which brings up an interesting science / magic / miracle connection I made tonight while waiting for 30 minutes at the drive thru.  Electricity is induced when magnets spin around copper wire.  If you want a decent electrical current then you have to have a lot of magnets spun quickly around a lot of copper wire.

What if we could induce miracles?  The Bible and experience suggests that we may be able to.  The fear when entering this section is that some may think I’m trying to manipulate God which is not my intent at all.  I think God wants us to study, search and explore the riches of the world he made.  As we do we will make discoveries and connections.  This was Isaac Newtons intent as well as many great scientists.  The fact that the world has had the potential for all of our modern technologies since Adam and Eve shouldn’t be lost on us.  True, its only been in the last few hundred years have many of these potentials been unlocked but they’ve always been possible if man had the proper understanding or knowledge.

So how might we induce or bring about miracles?  We must have conductive materials (human hearts and minds full of trust/faith) and a magnet (the Holy Spirit / Jesus) and as we move these materials around each other miraculous power is induced and miracles occur. How do we “move” them?  I’d suggest through praise and worship.  We see numerous examples in the Bible about how when people praised God the miraculous happened.  And why are we called to “lay hands on the sick”?  Maybe there is a passing of the power via human contact. I’m going to give this more thought, but I think I’m definitely on to something.

Which does bring up one warning and challenge.  And its not a small one.  Every great scientific discovery can be used for good and evil.  In the same way God fearing people can induce His glory, it might also be true that others could induce satan’s glory.  Isn’t that what witchcraft, sorcery, voodooism, and false religions attempt to do?  And from what I’ve heard they are more effective at doing this then most want to admit.

As Einstein warned President Roosevelt in World War II about the possibilities of the atomic bomb, “either we develop it or our enemies will” (paraphased).

Which brings us back to the garden of Eden. Knowledge is a powerful thing which God has been wise enough to keep from us until we were ready and even then we often mess it up.  I don’t know if we are ready for this next wave of advances but it seems that ready or not, the magic is about to become science.

Unfortunately such temporary efficiencies get lost in the long run. The means of control in a dictatorship start to rub the subjects the wrong way (especially after a good “reeducation”). As we saw in the Middle East this past spring, people will eventually rise up and cast off the bounds of bondage. And in the resulting revolutions all the good that tyrants accomplished will be forgotten as their very name, image and lives (Qaddafi anyone?) are desecrated and demonized.

What does this have to do with being a parent?

I’m curious what people really think of me. Not that I really want to know, but I’ve gotten enough of a hint with the recent turmoil that my wife has raised up on her Facebook and blog postings. Tamara (my wife) has been homeschooling our kids for the past five years. In this time she has made many friends in the local homeschool scene. In addition to these we’ve made many friends at our previous and current churches. After all of this exposure I can honestly say I’m not as conservative as I thought. I’ve been put to shame by the uber-conservatives. They probably think of me as a skirt wearing, spineless, shell of a man.

The proof? I can’t keep my wife under control. Under submission. My wife works outside the home (part time as a nurse). My children aren’t properly muzzled and subservient. The fact that I’m a public school teacher probably elicits even more derision amongst those who see public schools as the devil’s playground.

The truth is that some of their concerns are legit. My children can be obnoxious at times. My wife is juggling so much with homeschool, work, the home and the dozen other things she accomplishes every week that she doesn’t have the time or energy for pretenses. I would like nothing more than to be able to provide completely for the needs of my family. Maybe it’s a lack of faith or poor money management or both that is forcing us to live on two incomes.

But that isn’t what concerns me. For the truth is every family, even the holiest rollers, has struggles similar to ours. What concerns so many of our friends (and frankly people that know us only superficially but are free to judge our inner character) is our rebellion. More specifically my wife’s rebellion to God’s authority. And my inability to “control” my wife. And my kids.

Democracy, as Winston Churchill observed, is the worst form of government that has ever been tried. Except for all of the rest.

Since so many are concerned about us I feel it is only right that I reciprocate the love. I’m concerned about many of my conservative Christian friends who feel outward conformity is the goal.

I grew up in a very open family. My dad is a great man, but he couldn’t control his wife either. And his kids? I’m sure we were obnoxious. I won’t even go there when it comes to the troubles that we had in school. Fights. Thievery. Sedition. Vandalism. Cheating.  Shop lifting.  And that’s just my rap sheet.

The worst thing is that my siblings and myself questioned many of the things we were taught. We’d argue about many things. It wasn’t a family reunion until there was a family shattering argument. Voices being raised was customary while growing up.

My father failed when it came to running an effective and efficient tyranny. He married this woman who kept him on his toes. Following my father’s lead I too married a woman that is smarter than I am. My father and I keep up with our spouses but it is clear to all that we both married up.

Democracy is messy. And that is how I see my dad. A great democratic man. He valued each of us and that included our opinions. He loves his wife so much that he allows her to be the woman that God has gifted her to be. He didn’t have to control every aspect of our micro-society. Maybe if he had been more controlling my upbringing would have been more pleasing to those who judged our family.

But I’m glad he wasn’t. And history has vindicated his approach. For democracies trump every dictatorship in the long run. Every one of his six children has successful marriages, children (21 grandkids at last count), and careers (we all graduated from college and all have advanced degrees). What is even more important to him is that we are all walking with the Lord and have a close relationship with each other and our parents.

When Jesus said “you’ll know them by their fruits” I can’t help but be thankful for how my dad led his family. He and my mom did a great job. It wasn’t the most efficient at the time but in the long run it was way more effective.

I am very concerned for the people I see in the homeschool and conservative wings of the Church who demand submission from wives and children and outward conformity to man-made rules. They may appear more appealing in the short run, but the evidence that is coming back is that their subjects eventually rebel. And not only do these tyrants lose relationship with their children but often times the children rebel against Jesus and the whole gospel.

My wife and I decided a long time ago that the most important things we could accomplish as parents was that we had our children’s heart and that they had a real and organic relationship with Christ. In truth I often struggle with the external. I would love to be able to dictate every area of my children’s lives. I would love it if my wife hung on my every word, wish and command.

And while I’m at it I’d also like it if the heavenly host all bowed down and worshipped me.

Too much? Probably, but it’s always good to remind ourselves where such pride and power leads in the long run.

Servant leadership is hardly the ego boost. I think Jesus proved that at Golgatha.

Interesting to note that in the long run forced praise is fleeting, while voluntary praise will raise up forever from joyful hearts.

Just don’t remind me of this article the next time my wife questions my papal proclamations or my children ignore my divine directions.

But before I go too far toward the voiding of my man card I must put forward some disclaimers.  I am a man.  A happily married man.  Speaking of married, my wife, Tamara posted a similar entry on her blog.  I am not copying her entry.  This is something we’ve been discussing for awhile, she just posted on it first. You are welcome to read her post first since its more entertaining.  Plus that way when you read mine you’ll … well, you’ll see another side.  Less Shi Tzu action.  Still have a hard time getting that image out of my mind.  Very disturbing, but funny.

While I think that women are undervalued and under-appreciated, I also believe that the weakness that is the modern man can be corrected.

So the evidence.  Simply put men are sexist, sex-crazed, lazy, uncouth, poor fathers, arrogant, violent, greedy,  and lack follow through.

It is common knowledge that most of the bad things in the world come through the action of men. Be it wars, rapes, genocides, serial killers, murders, thievery, arson, vagrancy, social stratification, illegitimate children, orphans, pornography, and disaster movies.

I could post actual evidence to support each of these claims, but I don’t feel like it, don’t need it and some other reason which I’ve forgotten.

I used to think that “Guys were Jerks.” As a high schooler, who didn’t do casual dating, my impression of other guys my age was that they were all sex crazed brutes.   Now I realize that my impression of the American Teenage male was as much propaganda as anything.  The media and society tells young men that they should be sex crazed and can’t control their passions.  A popular song when I was a teenage had this lie/manifesto in its chorus “You and me baby ain’t nothing but mammals, so let’s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel.” Many buy into this lie, but many have not, or are yearning for something better to buy into.  I refused to act like a mammal, I’m a child of God and as a teenager took the challenge to behave as such.

On this note, I was told and challenged by my parents and teachers (school, children and youth leaders) that men could control their passions.  In fact, the Bible commands men to keep it in their pants and wait until marriage to have sex.  Our society laughs at this and says no guy can remain pure.  Correction:  I did.  I was a virgin when I married at the age of 23.  I was no saint, but our schools curfew policy plus my girlfriend (now wife) and I wanted to wait until marriage so we somehow made it through 3 years of dating and were virgins on our wedding night.  The next day not so much. There is definitely a counter current to the mainstream.  If you’re reading this, then maybe you can become part of this standard, lighthouse. Going with the flow is a sure fire way to drown.

I have seen too many articles, papers, newsclips and “experts” saying that waiting until marriage is passe and impossible.  That young people should wait until they are serious and then practice “safe sex.”  Bull shit.  There is no such thing as “safe sex” and men CAN be strong and keep themselves pure until marriage.

The way I see it is that women are stable.  God has made women to nurture, train, support, strengthen, nourish and encourage their husbands… and children.  Men need women.   Men are less stable.  In fact, I would argue that men are obsessive and God made them this way.

The problem that our society has found is that men’s obsessions are not properly focused.

Historically men had to be obsessed.  Their livelihood depended upon their ability to: grow crops in erratic weather, protect flocks, kill predators and hunt prey, develop cities, irrigation, architecture, engineering, natural obstacles, exploration, science, medicine, literature and grammatically incorrect sentences.

Men are obsessive but that can and should be a huge blessing.  Steve Jobs was obsessed with computers, phones and mp3 players.  George Washington was obsessed with independence and a new nation.  George Washington Carver was obsessed with peanuts.  Archimedes with engineering.  Plato with philosophy.  Alexander with world domination (as well as a million other men … can’t recall a female with such violent ambition).  Robin Hood with social justice (yes, to my conservative friends I just cussed).  Martin Luther King Jr. with civil rights.  Abraham Lincoln with national unity.  Louis Pasteur with invisible little soldiers (viruses).  Orville and Wilbur with flight.  Later Orville would become obsessed with popcorn and Wilbur with spiders.  The list could and does go.  Thomas Edison, Alexander Graham Bell, Bill Gates, Henry Ford, Teddy Roosevelt (conservation), Cal Ripken, Dirk Nowitzki (had to include my man and his obsession with putting a spherical orb through a 360 degree loop in front of 30,000 crazies cheering the cause of converging circles).

I read once, and made this argument in my social studies class, that the only force powerful enough to defeat the Vikings was … women.  The Vikings raided across Europe with abandon until they started to take local European women as their brides (and other less noble relationships).  But once the Vikings had wives and children to protect (only a Viking man knows what other Viking men are thinking) they couldn’t leave their new home on their reckless raids.  One thing led to another and the Vikings assimilated into European society.  The same pattern of raiders assimilating into the local population has occurred a thousand times over throughout history thanks to women.

My daugher, Abby, wonders why women aren’t more famous.  I’ve thought about that a lot.  Having three daughters makes me consider our world’s obsession with the obsessed.  We tend to forget the billions of women whose stability has created the environment where these obsessed men could create such marvelous things.  Our world is not a vacuum.  In fact I’d argue that women are the petri dish upon which men’s obsessions can properly grow and develop. When a man succeeds there is little doubt the role his mother, sisters, wife and daughters played in his success.  Not to mention his teachers, early crushes, female friends and fans.  Men like it when women appreciate them.  There is nothing so gratifying and encouraging as appropriate female appreciation.  Men laughing at my jokes doesn’t do much for me, I’m just saying.

But instead of appreciating their influence our world portrays women as simply sexual objects and labels wives as “my old lady” or “ball and chain.”  If men are like ships heading head long on some great adventure then the ball and chain metaphor may actually work.  Women are the anchor. Anchors don’t get the accolades that they deserve.  We know about the Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria.  We know about the Mayflower.  The importance of their anchors has been lost (BTW ironically they were Jose, Fernando, Santos Marcos and June Bug).  But just ask King Philip II’s Armada about the importance of a safe harbor, and ability to anchor and weather a storm. (FYI 1/3 of his ships were sunk off Ireland because they didn’t have a safe harbor to retreat to after being beaten by Queen Elizabeth’s Navy.)

In our world we’ve tried to “free” men from their social responsibilities (monogamy, fatherhood, family fidelity) and the fruits of our emancipation has been a nation full of men enslaved to pornography, pleasure, video games, self advancement and sports.  And I wish that last item was a joke – more on this in a future entry.

My wife put it quite well in her article: are men really that weak? I am not.  I am obsessed, but not by the things the world tells me I should be obsessed with.

Its about time men stopped abdicating their responsibilities and changed a diaper (yes, you’d be surprised by how many men never or rarely changed their baby’s diaper).  Men need to tuck their children in, read and pray with them.  Teach their sons how to treat women.  How to defend their sisters.  (Physically men are stronger, but strength is so much more than muscle mass).

This challenge is for me, but you can read it if you want.  Imagine a Stuart Smalley face to face in the mirror.  ”Philip, you’re good enough to stay focused on what God has called you to do.  You’re smart enough to avoid distractions and remain obsessed with the things worthy of such focus.  And gosh darn it Philip, people would like you more if you stopped talking to yourself in the mirror.”

I just finished e-mailing my brother John, who is currently on deployment with the US Army in the Middle East.  He had called earlier today and then sent an e-mail wishing everyone a Merry Christmas.

The thing is, Christmas is also John’s birthday.  But for 40 years now (Dude, is he really that old?  That would make me…. 2 1/2 years less old) John has shared his birthday with Jesus.  And although my parents tried to differentiate between their savior and their son, I’m afraid we all know who got the short end of the stick when John was growing up.

This is an all too real problem for many whose birthdays coincide with major holidays.  Its hard to compete.

And that is why Santa must die!  And that’s why I no longer regret killing him a few years ago.

I’ve been teaching 6th grade for 11 years now.  Two years ago was the only time Santa ever came up in my class.  I thought for sure that all of my students knew that Santa was fictional by the 6th grade.  So when they asked me if Santa was real, I hesitated and then said “that as far as I knew, Santa didn’t exist.  That he was actually based on a Christian priest in Turkey, Saint Nicholas.”

I didn’t think anything else of it until the next day when an irate parent accused me of killing Santa Claus. That her son still believed in Santa and that I had ruined Christmas.

I felt bad.  That was never my intention.  During the course of our conversation she said that she wanted to keep her son innocent and encourage him to enjoy his childhood.  Basically, she didn’t want him to grow up too quickly.  Santa was one of the last childhood vestiges of innocence that her son had.  And I had killed Santa.

I’m not used to getting parents mad at me.  In fact over the 11 years of teaching I can count on my hands how many times I’ve had parents PO’ed at me.  For some reason I’ve been fortunate to have a good repoire with my students and their parents.  So when this parent was mad at me it caused me some serious reflection.

During our conversation I remember giving my arguments for why I was even talking about Santa during my Social Studies class. We talk about religions in 6th grade, culture, holidays, festivals and cultural diffusion (Christmas being a great case in point) and I strive to be honest with my students.

Honestly, I don’t know why I didn’t kill Santa in every one of my social studies classes for the past 11 years.  I’m a mass murderer.  Or at least I’m premeditating the murder of a thousand Santas.  I’m a monster.

Let’s see if my monster logic is a crazy as it seems.

As mentioned, Santa is a legend based off of one, possibly two, Christian priests named Nicholas.  But few people in America know this much.  And Christmas?  Well it was the Mass celebrating the birth of Christ.  In the few classes where I’ve taught a brief lesson on Christmas this information alone is more than most of my students have ever heard.  Next, Holiday.  Well Holiday literally means “Holy Day.”  Gaskets are blowing.  Minds are opening.  Kids are waking up.  Its amazing.

And as my brother John can attest, sharing a holiday means someone’s going to the get the short end of the stick.  I hate to be the person that repeats the mantra but “Jesus is the reason for the Season.”  So I won’t.

The reason my wife and I have never taught our children that Santa is real (though we have shared with them the story of the real Saint Nicholas) is that we want them to believe us.  If we purposefully lie to them for 5-12 years (depending upon when they catch on) then what other of our beliefs will they suspect are also lies?  We want to carefully guard those things that we really do believe.  If we are so careless with the truth and lie to them about Santa then one day when they “grow up” they will question everything we taught them.

A group of athiests has also made this connection and compares Santa with the Easter Bunny, Leprechauns and Jesus.

Which leads me to a related, but divergent, thought.  What is the power of belief, if what one believes in is false?  It seems our society really values belief.  We are amazed by Tim Tebow’s beliefs.  We have movies encouraging us to “just believe.”  We even have a major add compaign by Sony Playstation encouraging people to “Make Believe.”

Pardon me for killing Santa, but I don’t care what you believe.  Honestly, you shouldn’t care what I believe.  Has anyone lost sight of the fact that there is truth and there are lies.  When we celebrate lies as a means to keep our innocence are we doing ourselves any favors?

Now, I do think we should show respect for others beliefs (which is why, don’t worry parents, I won’t kill Santa in my class anymore), but eventually the truth always wins out over falsehood.  I’d much rather be on the side of the cold hard facts then on the warm mirage of falsehood.

Final illustration.  There are two gifts under the Christmas Tree (also a pagan symbol that has nothing to do with Jesus – but I digress).  One is a huge box full of cheap toys that will all break or get lost within a month.  The other is a much smaller box that contains a notebook.  Its easier to get kids excited about the huge box, but where’s the challenge in that?  The smaller gift, while obviously less puffy and jolly, is infinitely more valuable. Inside of that box is a notebook full of the account numbers and passwords for their College Savings Accounts and Trust Funds as well as a family history and parental words of wisdom.

Ironically, the truth of Christmas makes an even greater, fantastical story then the made up ones ever will.  This is one of those cases where the truth is stranger than fiction.  Santa isn’t real.  There is no Santa’s workshop, flying sleighs, elves or red nosed reindeers. The truth is that the God of the universe loves us so much that He came down here and dwelt among us.  God became man.  And this man didn’t raise Easter bunnies or lay colorful eggs.  What this God/Man did AFTER He got here is another case of Truth trumping fiction.  But that I’ll have to save that for the day when I hunt down and skin the Easter Bunny.

For this entry I want to talk about confrontation.  It has come to my attention that I intimidate people.  This comes as a surprise to me since I’ve always considered myself approachable and teachable.

It makes me want to beat them up for saying I’m difficult to confront.  The nerve of some people!

Besides the fact my humor missed, the ability of myself to beat people up is also absent.

This comment from a co-worker did catch me off guard and has got me thinking.  How approachable am I really?  Do I receive from others?  Am I open to advice, feedback and other people’s misguided opinions?

I am still contemplating this remark about my being intimidating.  Probably the reason it comes as such a surprise is because to be intimidating means I have something worthy of being feared.  If only I knew how Stalin laughed I’d try to mimic it here (ala: Better to be feared then loved).  My physical presence has never been of the intimidating sort.  Frankly I’m a nerd … and this may be what intimidates people.  Either that or my keen wit.

Yes, I’m completely lost as well.  To misquote Edison, “I didn’t fail, I found three explanations that didn’t work.”  Well, I will ruminate on my intimidating nature and may address that later.

But for now I’ll talk about the fightless.  It is no secret that my secret ambition is to stir the pot.  I don’t run from a fight.  I believe I’m wise enough to avoid stupid fights, but I don’t like bullies and will stand up to such ruffians whenever and wherever I have sufficient back up.

The subject of this entry is the average person who avoids fights at all cost.  Avoiding direct confrontation, many seem to revert to gossip, bitterness, revenge, pettiness and ultimately apathy.

My personal opinion (redundant much?) is that most people don’t care enough to confront.  Confrontation is hard.  I’ll admit that there are few people that I am close enough, or care enough about to confront.  If I do confront someone I hardly know it is usually only for the moment. (i.e. two weeks ago another co-worker said that radical Christians were just as bad as radical Muslims – yes, I didn’t let that go.  Until after the meeting, and now I don’t care enough about her to correct the gross misrepresentation).

Back to the person that said I was intimidating.  I’ve been racking my brain to remember the last time I was confronted by this individual and can only recall one time 2 years ago.  I guess I leave quite an impression.  That’s a good thing right?

As with anything, there needs to be a balance with confrontation.  I’ve known a few people who relish confrontation too much and bully people with their opinions and verbal abuse.  Unfortunately, I know of few people that can carefully confront.  My friend Bryan did this a few months ago.  He had something that he needed to share with me, so he invited me out for a burger (which is unusual in and of itself, 90% of the time I pay for the meals when I eat with others) and shared his concerns.  While what he had to say did sting, in the end I have a deeper respect and appreciation because he took the time to carefully confront.

My wife, Tamara Pfanstiel, has been struggling with a number of theological issues.  The biggest being the role of women in Christianity.   She has written about this journey, struggle and the questions she has on her blog (link).  I’m very proud of her for her honesty and while I don’t agree with everything she has written and would word it differently, I’m proud of her work regardless.  Besides if she were my female clone I’d never have married her.

The funny thing to me is that many of her controversial entries come from the confrontations that she and I have had over the years.  It goes without saying that many of her friends are concerned about her salvation, sanity and sailor speech.  Yet not one has taken the time to confront her in a respectful way, that I know of.  That would take too much time and effort.  Instead people will gossip, blast a harsh e-mail, comment on her facebook page, or avoid her altogether.

I wish my wife had the kind of friends that would care enough to confront.  They’d find that my wife is very approachable and worthy of the effort. But alas, how many people will take a stand for what they believe and confront someone they care about?  Instead most, it seems, take flight and refuse to fight.  Besides such an engagement, like any fight, will leave both parties bruised … and stronger.  I can see why so many people avoid it.

I have a hard time respecting such cowardice.

And I will drop names next entry… once my spine arrives.

Then I watched an ironically inspiring movie, “The Way Back” about prisoners who escape from a World War II era Soviet Gulag in Siberia and walk due south from Siberia, through Mongolia, China and Tibet and to freedom in India.

Watching depressing movies (though this one does inspire at the right times) about what others have had to endure gives great perspective to ones own troubles.

For a few months now I’ve been relating myself to Joseph, but the problem (and I’m thankful for this problem) is that the troubles I’ve endured are nothing compared to Joseph.

Now after watching this movie I feel as if any inconvenience, extra work, delayed dream, tight budget, lack of recognition, physical imperfection, 100 degree heat, burst water pipe and even backed up toilets are nothing in comparison.

The problem is such perspective is a pity party buzz killer. Its hard to feel sorry for oneself when you see how much you’ve been blessed and how much others have had to endure to gain a fraction of what one in America has been given for free.

The other lesson I’m taking from this movie is the simple motto of “just keep walking.” While the movie has its moments, is beautifully shot and has good acting, its hard to transform a grueling walk across terrible terrain into a quick montage with a rock anthem. So the movie makes the right choice by showing the agony, monotony and price that the long walk takes on the escaped prisoners. And the reason that they make it isn’t some grand intervention or salvation, but simply because they never gave up and kept walking. Step by step, hill by hill, mile by mile until they reached their destination. There is a profound truth in that for each of us. We are promised success and that we will reap a harvest for our efforts, ordeals and travails if we just don’t quit. If we keep walking.

This may not be the get out of whatever jail one is in free card that Americans are used to, but it is very biblical. And such a perspective can change the feel of a pity party into a perseverance party in no time flat. True, not a lot of people will show up for a perseverance party (the favors are a little gamey) but no one showed up for the pity party either. The good news is that at least this time I didn’t send out invitations to my pity party.  And most importantly, the One guest that shows up for the perseverance party is really the only guest worth entertaining.

Before I defend this opening assertion, lets just contemplate for a minute what this would mean if its true. God is limited. God can’t do anything He wants to. When we pray for healing, deliverance, provision, anointing, etc… God wants to but can’t.

I just finished reading a book called “A Better Way to Pray” by Andrew Wommack. When I have the resources I’m going to order a bulk of these to give out. The book has and is revolutionizing my prayer life and in a very biblical and powerful way. I’d highly recommend it, plus it’s a short book and a great bathroom read. Yes, you don’t want my copy.

Oh, before I go into full blown heresy let me defend my assertion.

God is limited by himself. God cannot lie. God cannot be untrue to his Word. God is truth and is incapable of deceit. God will not go against the free will of man. God honors the system of authority that He has established. Basically I would argue (from the biblical truths listed above) that God is limited. He can’t just do anything He wants.

Now, whether or not you completely agree with my argument please humor me for a bit and see if its worth it.

The factor that limits God’s power the most? Satan? No, its us. Incompetent man. Operator error. The problem is between the chair and the keyboard.

And where does our biggest mistake lie? Good question, but first an illustration.

The Bible clearly teaches us that God is bigger, more powerful and that God will win. We know the storyline and ultimate destination. What is often forgotten when looking at the big picture is the role that you and I play in it.

The illustration that makes the most sense to me is that God is the football coach. He will have a winning season and will win the Superbowl. We are the players. Some of us are benchwarmers. Some play limited minutes. Some specialist. Some starters. And some, who prepare themselves with zeal, are the star players. Ultimately the coach calls the plays, pulls and puts in players and motivates his team. But the Coach can’t throw a single pass, tackle a single player, intercept, leap or run a single play. He is limited to the sidelines. It is up to the players how the game unfolds.

For instance. Should we pray that God would heal the sick? The Old Testament teaches this, but the New Testament says simply “Heal the Sick.” (Matthew 10:1 & 8, Luke 10:8-10) It sounds like we have it within ourselves (through Christ who dwells in us) to Heal the Sick. Jesus has been given all authority in heaven and earth and he now resides on the inside of us and we are his ambassadors.

I believe that a lot more is up to us then we may feel comfortable admitting. Its comforting to say God is in total control because then we can shirk our responsibility. But it seems to me from a simple reading of the bible that Jesus has authorized and equipped us. Its our responsibility to preach. Teach. Heal. Evangelize. Comfort. Minister. And God would be unjust to tell us to heal the sick if he didn’t empower us to do just that.

So am I saying that if someone isn’t healed then we’re to blame? Like Jesus I’m going to answer this question with a question of my own. Why does someone have to be to blame? I think the better question is, did God empower us? And if He did empower us to heal the sick, then what do we need to change in our prayers and lives to see this manifest?

My falling out with the Faith movement is well documented on this blog and in numerous conversations and arguments I’ve had with many in my life. But what if this belief in the literal reading of the scriptures regarding Faith is right? Or mostly right?

And this brings us to the role of the Satan. Beelzebub. Satan literally means the Accuser and this is his only means of stopping God’s potent coaching. He delays the game, fouls, stalls and occasionally even takes our players out of the game (typically when they aren’t supported by their teammates). But his most powerful evil-dote is to get us to quit before victory is achieved.

And this is where we prove our incompetence time and time again. We quit too soon.

Let me rephrase that. We quit. We should never quit. To quote Bryan Duncan, we should be “giving up, giving up now.”

A final illustration would be a hand of poker between us and the devil. God’s the dealer and has dealt us a loaded hand – Royal Flush. The only way we can lose is by folding. The devil isn’t playing his cards (which are by the way crap), he’s playing us. He raises, bluffs, intimidates, and postures. The difference between real life and a hand of poker is that the rounds of betting can go on and on. But there will be a final revealing and if we haven’t folded then we win it all.

In conclusion, God will win, but the role we play in this victory is up to us. If you are sick and tired of the devil hurting you, your family, your community and the world with sickness, poverty, violence and pain then don’t pray to God to change it. Pray to God that he’ll give you the plays, motivation and support and then you go and (quoting Gandhi) be the change you want to see in the world.

And don’t let the devil condemn you for any past defeats, God’s already forgiven you and is calling the next play. Get back in the game, strap on your helmet and be competent. Remember its not up to you how the game ends – that is in God’s sovereign hands. How you perform in the plays (life) that you’re in is totally your responsibility.

To quote Randall Wallace (more on him later) you can let the wolves eat you, or you can eat the wolves.

I’ve never been much of a wolf eater, but I’ve seen how they have devoured friends and family and I’m thinking a little wolf steak, once properly tenderized, is a better way to play.

I also prefer to approach things from unusual directions. Like in college when I wrote an article that I titled “Crime Pays.” My editor didn’t see what I was trying to do so she changed the title to “Crime Doesn’t Pay” when the newspaper went to press. How boring. With a title stating the obvious, there’s obviously no reason for anyone to read it. Whereas a title like “Crime Pays” grabs the attention and the reader must then read the article to find out more.

Which for us writers, this is our sole/soul goal; get people to read us. We must be read or we lose our life force and return to mere nocturnal creatures with pale skin, bad eating habits and blood shot eyes. Being read is what transforms your average vampire into a journalist. But I digress.

For all these reasons and more the ellipsis is my friend. Not my best friend, that role is reserved for my longest grammatical friend and confidant, the run on sentence and his cousin the sentence fragment. Ellipsis is up there. Somewhere. Probably 3^rd place. Nemesis? Properly utilized commas and punctuation. Thanks for asking.

So back to the never met a student title. Of course, I’ve met a student. Actually as I prepare to start my 11^th year of teaching I have had thousands of students come into my class and I do my best to meet and get to know everyone of them.

The ellipsis leaves out the vital part. But for the origin of the phrase I must go back to the famous Oklahoman (yes, there has been only one – unless you count country singers … which no one does) Will Rogers. He said that he had “never met a man he didn’t like.” I remember my mother explaining it to me that what Will Rogers was saying is that as he got to know someone he always found something about that person that he liked.

Simple and yet very profound. Well, as a teacher I can in all honesty plagiarize (yes I’m aware of the dichotomy in the previous two words, which is what makes them funny … to me) Will Rogers and say that “I’ve never met a student I didn’t like.”

And it’s true. I have found something great in every student that I’ve taught. The more I get to the know them the more I find worthy of liking. So it stands to reason that some students I like more but that is simply because I got to know them better. And in continuation which students do I get to know better? The ones that want to get to know me. There is probably some profound truth hidden here so I’ll leave an ellipsis and let you find it yourself…

And we’re back.

The thought that has been bouncing around like a marble with ADHD inside my head is… How can God possibly love everyone? And maybe He loves me, but does He like me? And, wow…(this is when it hits me) … (yes, that was a redundant ellipsis) … God likes each and every one of us. Because he knows us and wants to get to know us more and forever.

This will sound real cheesy but that is the thing that I’m looking forward to most in heaven … getting to know everyone. I can (and will) spend much of eternity just talking and getting to know every single person in heaven. This sounds like such a blast. As a historian, of course, I’ll be asking them lots of questions. And as an egotist I, of course, will be telling them all about me. And since its heaven they’ll have no option but to like it … <insert diabolical laugh here>.

I’ve been thinking about this entry for years. I routinely look over my classes in old yearbooks and being a pack rat I still have many of the gifts, cards, notes and select assignments from students from the past 10 years. I can’t help but wax nostalgic as I look over these mementos. Each face, in the yearbooks, represents a unique person that I got to know for a moment in time, and each note, gift, or assignment is evidence of a personal connection.

Of course, the problem with liking every student one has taught, combined with the pack rat mentality means I still have boxes and boxes of stuff that fill up my classroom. But that’s okay because I’ve never met a box full of rich memories …

However, the person I most associate with in Bible doesn’t even have a name. The Bible just says that there were four leprous men in Samaria. These lepers decide to go to the Syrian camp and ask for food. They reason that if they stay in Samaria they’ll die, but if they go to the Syrian camp they’ll either be killed or given food. If they do nothing they’ll die, but if they do something, though it’s a long shot, they may survive. As they walk through the canyon to the Syrian camp God uses their footsteps to echo throughout the canyon, scare the Syrians who flee back to their homeland.  Thus the seige is broken and Samaria is saved by four lepers who took a chance.

I once heard an illustration about a new line of hotels opening in New York City. When they hired their staff they purposefully didn’t hire anyone with experience at other hotels. Instead they intentionally chose people that had never worked in hotels before. Their rationale was that they’d save time by simply training their new hires and not having to untrain and then retrain the experienced people.

Wisdom isn’t priced like it used to be. In the ancient days the elders would gather at the gates of the city to hear disputes, give advice and witness pacts and agreements. Now it seems we put a premium on gumption and appearances and discount experience and earned wisdom.

This leads me to the first thing I don’t have to say:

When you’re young everyone wants you to have experience, when your experienced noone wants you.

People seemed to like me more when I was younger. People took chances on me. My first principal, Mrs. Martinez, went out of her way and jumped through a number of hoops in order to hire me. I’ll forever be indebted and grateful for the chance she took and the chance she gave me.

Now, I’m an experienced teacher of 10 years and am good at what I do. This summer I applied and interviewed for a number of high school social studies positions and a position teaching video production. Now I’m very qualified and experienced, and no one wants me. The good news is that I did get three interviews that I thought went really well. I must have been in the minority view.

I wonder if the reluctance to take a chance on an older person goes back to the hotel illustration. Depending on the day I can chalk up not being offered any of the jobs to a dozen different reasonable conclusions (they needed coaches, they already had someone they wanted, they found someone more qualified) but at times in my melancholy there is only one explanation.

If you are in a similar position a movie I watched recently was very cathartic; The Company Men with Ben Affleck and Tommy Lee Jones.

Hauntingly Beautiful Blue Timing

One of the most haunting verses from my adolescents is the verse in Ecclesiates “He makes all things beautiful in his time.” Like Pappa Smurf’s immortal line (to me at least) “not much further now, my little smurflings.” Thinking and knowing that God’s timing is perfect and that in due season we’ll reap if we faint not (don’t give up) is very comforting at first. But as the journey progresses, time passes and we seem no closer to the destination that we had placed in our mind, this verse causes more frustration then comfort. I’m at that point now. And my biggest fear when praying is that God will respond to my repeated queries with that haunting line of Papa Smurf’s “much, much, much further.”

I’m trying so hard to wrap my head around all of this and trying to keep my attitude and heart right. And I’m not always successful.  To say I’m getting a tad frustrated is the second major understatement in as many sentences.

“No one likes me everyone hates me, I guess I’ll go eat worms”

So this spring I started to feel sorry for myself. I was asked to apply to other schools in my district since I had my high school certification. As I mentioned none of these schools wanted me. But even before this it hit me just how expendable I was. I’m now at my third school in the district and I’m starting to realize the phrase “if you look around and can’t find the weakest link, then you’re it.”

I don’t think I’m that bad but maybe I’m delusional. I’ve never had good olfactory senses and need to be careful to bathe, use deodorant, etc… because if I don’t I can’t tell when I smell. So this spring it hit me that maybe I wasn’t the vaunted teacher that everyone wanted. Maybe I was “that” teacher that thought he was really good but was really the laughingstock in the lounge.

So in one of my down moments I poured out my heart and frustration (that no one liked or wanted me) to a good teacher friend and haven’t heard from him in months. Didn’t even get invited to his wedding. If Old Spice would make a social deodorant they’d make a million. Heck, I’ll even sign up for the trial round. I just don’t get it.

There’s a verse that says “as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.” I’ve always envied those popular people that everyone wants to be friends with. As a natural introvert, I’ve surrounded myself with extroverts (my brother Sam, my wife, friends) and have tried to learn how to be more extroverted since this is what everyone seems to want. But maybe everyone caught on to my charade. I wanted too much to be wanted, so they didn’t want me.

Funny thing in my decade of teaching is that the years that I was the most popular among my students were the years I didn’t care what my students thought. I just wanted to be the best teacher I could be. When I start to care what people think, I get blindsided and rejected.

“That’s not why I rode.”

One of my family’s favorite movies growing up was “The Man from the Snowy River.” Its a great film that I reintroduced to my own family this past year. My favorite line is when Jim Craig is offered the 100 pound reward for rescuing the escaped colt by the man who blamed him for letting the colt escape. He rejects the money and says “That’s not why I rode.” He then looks at the man’s daughter, the woman that he loves and it is clear why he rode. He didn’t ride for the reward. He didn’t ride for vindication. He rode for love. And in Hollywood’s shortsighted vision, romantic love is the ultimate goal.

I’ve had to remind myself a dozen hundred times why I ride. Why do I do what I do? What is my motivation? Why do I put in extra time, emotions, money, resources and effort at work? Why do I care what people think? Why did we have so many children (six) and will adopt more as we’re able (unrepentant breeder syndrome)?  Why do I stay up countless nights writing stuff that noone, as of yet, reads? 

I can’t honestly answer this question with just one answer. I think that at times I do ride for the approval of others. I do ride for validation. I do ride for my ego.

But what I want to ride for is love. And a more far sighted love that mere romance. A love for my neighbor. In the end my hearts desire is not for rewards, accolades, or trophies. Simply put I want heaven to be a lot more crowded because I rode. And in the eons to come I think I shall finally get over my introverted ways as I get to know each person that I had the smallest role in their salvation. I know I’ll be busy getting to know the multitudes that contributed to my salvation and growth and finally giving them the thanks that they deserve.

My two cents: Debt Crisis

I have a very different view of the “debt ceiling crisis” that we just went through. Watching the news it was amazing just how “sky is falling” everyone was. I think that it might have been a good thing for a default.

The illustration that is zooming through my head is of a car speeding down a highway. A mile away a bridge is out and the car is approaching it at 80 mph. By the time the car sees that the bridge is out it will be too late to stop. Now, let’s say, there’s a speedbump in the road that causes the car to have to slow down and gives it a jolt. The speedbump serves two very important functions. It slows down the car and it awakens the driver. Now when he takes that last turn onto the bridge he is alert enough to immediately recognize the bridge is out and he’s going slow enough to take corrective measures.

Our economy is the car and we are heading very quickly toward some serious times that we aren’t ready for and when we do come into them we’ll undoubtedly wreck. This “debt crisis” is hopefully one of many future speed bumps that will wake us up and get us ready for what’s ahead.

Besides, if I were an investor in say China (I just randomly picked a nation) and I saw the US getting serious about its debt it would actually make me more willing to invest in the US. Too many countries take debt not seriously enough and it has bankrupted them (Greece, Spain, Ireland, etc…). For the US to get serious about its debt is a good thing in my opinion.

Conclusion

This Sunday I submitted my dream screenplay to a festival in Hollywood. I only worked on this script for the past 12 years or so. I know my scripts journey is only just beginning but in many ways I feel like I’ve at least given it a chance at life. I think its pretty good. Compared to what normally passes for movies nowadays, I think its more than good.

Some who payed attention in Sunday School probably corrected me earlier when I spoke of the high that Elijah was on after Mount Carmel (where he called down fire from heaven). In fact the very next day he was suicidal and probably used the “noboday likes me everyone hates me” line.

After writing much, the only thing I have to say today of any import is this.

Don’t faint, keep going, know each bump is there for a reason and remember why you’re riding.

“It will be worth it all, when we see Jesus.”

Human nature is funny and a little depressing.  In a different life I’d love to be a sociologists and psychologists, but for this life I will content myself on spelling them correctly and being able to tell them apart (usually).

Friday I took my kids to the YMCA to go swimming.  My children are becoming water spiders and having a great time this summer playing, swimming and burning off the tops of their noses (sunburns).  At the Y in Arlington they have a new swim director who has instituted a set of draconian laws regarding children and swimming.  Don’t get me wrong, I think pools should be safe and that its important for children to learn how to swim.  But the new rules are enforced so inconsistently and arbitrarily that it has left my kids upset on a number of occasions and myself wandering when Mr. Scrooge became a swim director.  One day my kids pass the swim test, the next they don’t.  One day they are on top of the world, the next they are cordoned off in the shallow end (which is 1/5 of the total pool size) with 60% of the pool’s occupants.

I guess what really annoys me about this fiefdom that has been created on this sandless beach (hence the title) is that the life guards don’t bother to actually teach the kids how to swim, they just tell them that what they are doing is wrong.  Then they go about socializing, twirling their whistles and stopping occasionally to yell “stop running!!!” at a random kid.  Okay, the kid is my son Gabe and he was running a lot but…

On a related note (in my mind – though no one else may make the connection) I watched a show last night about what the earth will look like in 25 million years.  You know the type of science shows on Discovery or National Geographic that you watch and don’t understand every third word but it makes you think you’re smart so you keep watching.  Anyway, so I’m watching this show and my brain is thinking “wow, these college teachers are smart, so smart, yet they’ve all bought into a bad assumption.”

Second bad joke alert: The president, a pastor, Michael Jackson, a boyscout and the smartest man in the world are on a plane.  The plane’s going to crash.  There are only four parachutes.  The President and Michael Jackson both take one and jump (this joke was funnier before MJ died), then the smartest man in the world takes one and jumps.  The pastor turns to the boyscout and says, “you take the last one son, you have your whole life ahead of you.”  The boyscout responds “don’t worry father, there are two parachutes left, the smartest man in the world just took my knapsack.”

It seems to me that everyone wants their kingdom to be in order regardless of the cost.  They know who the king is, who the good guys are, who the bad guys are, what  ”truth” is and what the lies are that their enemies tell.  They then build their whole lives around these assumptions or preconceived ideas.  But what happens when these assumptions turn out to be false and their whole lives turn upside down in a moment?  What happens when the truth you built your life upon turns out to be a knapsack full of Hardy Boys novels and vienna sausage?

I mentioned last month about my idea about oil and Noah’s flood.  I don’t know enough to be dogmatic about much, but I am dogmatic about the fact that others are too dogmatic.  It seems most scientists and educators never even question the “millions of years” age of the earth.  As I’m watching this show (and later another show on Super Tsunamis) it keeps popping into my head that what they are talking about could just as easily (if not easilier – sic) be explained by a massive flood.  Scientists even have a term for a cataclystic event that killed most of life on earth.  They call it “The Great Dying”.  But if you were to approach them with Noah’s Flood most would laugh and say, “Well, we KNOW that this happened 250 million years ago so go away … [you crazy Creationist]“

I guess my question is “really?”  How do we know?  Can we be sure?  Have you ever actually tested it and proven to yourself or have you taken someone else’s word for it?  What do you do with all the information that doesn’t fit into your well constructed edifice?

I went through a decade long period from my late teens to my late 20′s where I really examined my beliefs.  I struggled with the Trinity, with Faith, with the Supernatural, with the Goodness of God (especially in regards to Heaven & Hell) and with Calvinism and Hobbism (did Waterson voluntarily retire, or was forced to quit by The Man?).  Testing ones beliefs is a good thing.  A great thing and after coming through this period I realized something quite profound, being color blind is a bad thing.

A song by Michael W. Smith growing up went “why can’t we be colored blind?”  The song was kinda catchy and its message a good one (accepting other races, nationalities, differences…) but the problem to me was that if you were color blind then all you’d see would be black and white.  And isn’t that what the song was preaching against?

For awhile (yes I’m throwing a lot of dots at you that I will try to connect momentarily) I wished I was a prophet.  I admired people who saw life in stark contrast.  People like Keith Green, Steve Camp, David Wilkerson, Bill Gates … oh, wait, wrong list, he goes on my next list (hint: homophone).

But I always saw the areas of gray.  I couldn’t be so definite.  I had this nasty habit of seeing arguments from multiple sides.  I became what I most despised a d… (no, I didn’t become a Democrat, but if I had would that have been so wrong?)  No, I became diplomatic.  I saw the many shades of gray that seperated the white from the black.  Then I heard a prophet say that the kingdom of darkness goes all the way from dark to the very edge of pure light.  Any gray was “giving place to the enemy.”  So some of the people I grew up under, who had a lot of great things to say I must add, drew the conclusion that we must reject all compromise and live separate / pure lives.  Much later in life, the inverse of that thought also hit me.  God’s kindgom goes all the way to the other extreme as well.  The real battle is fought in the fields of gray.

So these Christian prophets made their assumptions.  They knew what the truth was.  They knew who the bad guys were.  They knew they were right and anyone who disagreed with them was wrong.  So they instituted their biblically based life principles into a draconian set of rules that demanded outward conformity.  A conformity that was external without regard for the heart and emotions of those left crying in the shallow end.  They also never questioned the rightness of their assumptions.

Ironically, the biblical admonition of a prophet is that he/she is right 100% of the time.  If they were to err, they were to be stoned.  I haven’t witnessed a modern day prophet yet that wasn’t wrong a few times, and when they are, they want some gray / grace.  So they demand right or wrong, black or white, but when they err they want gray or grace.  In my mind the word that pops up is hippopatomus… oops, wrong page.

What I think I’m trying to say in this quickly crumbling castle is; Dude!  My kids want to swim.  Don’t be such a hard***.  Give them a break.  If your rules are so important, then teach the kids to reach them.  Creating a rigid system to fulfill some deep seated insecurity is pathetic.  And have you tested to see if your system even works?  Or do you just assume it is?  If so, then why are all the kids in the shallow end?  I don’t mean to be coming in a like a flood, but maybe you’re wrong.  I believe that the guards, prophets and teachers are there for safety but if they’re not down in the real world, then they quickly become the despots of their own sandless, joyless and misguided failed kingdoms.

Sorry, my bad, I got so sidetracked by the YMCA fiasco I forgot how I was going to tie this article back to Evolutionary scientists and Christian prophets.  Shoot I missed it, I guess we can kiss that wave goodbye.