Nike+ is the coolest pedometer I’ve ever owned. Although it is the only pedometer I’ve ever owned, I can’t imagine one being any cooler. Here are some reasons why:
1. Goals (aka motivation)You can create a goal to run more often, run faster, run farther, or burn calories. Once you complete your goal, you receive a medal (they’re fake) to remind you of your progress. Plus, if you close your eyes, and cue up the Star-Spangled Banner you’re pretty much in the olympics.
2. Coach (more motivation)Coach is very cordial, and doesn’t yell at you when you miss a run. Instead, coach plans a course to guide you toward the distance of your choice. Thanks to coach, In 12 weeks, I’m going to dominate a 10K race… actually, 12 weeks from now is Christmas, so I’ll likely be wearing pajamas, slippers, an ugly robe, and sipping cider from a rudolph mug.
3. Challenges (in other words, motivation)You can challenge all sorts of people. You can challenge people all over the world, or create your own that friends can join. I’m halfway on this challenge to run 100 miles, which puts me in seventeen thousand seven hundred and thirty second place. Victory is within reach.
4. Your very own Smurf (you might call it motivation)This little cheerleader does backflips when I run, and snores on the couch when I don’t… my co-worker pointed out that he doesn’t really look like me because my hair is not that shade of brown… that’s right, my hair shade is what stuck out to her. Just so you know, I’m also not blue.
If you are a runner, or an aspiring runner, I highly recommend Nike+. Check it out, and if you join… let’s challenge!
We went to the National Youth Workers Convention put on by Youth Specialties this last weekend in Los Angeles. The event was wonderful as always, and the “big room” speakers were fantastic (also as always).
Out of all of them, the speaker that really got me thinking was Donald Miller. He wrote Blue Like Jazz several years back and his newest book–just released–is entitled A Million Miles In a Thousand Years.
In it, Don meets a couple of filmmakers and is presented with the unique opportunity of writing the screenplay of his life. Pretty cool until he finds out that his actual life isn’t interesting enough to make into a screenplay. Bummer. The three sit in his living room concocting the story of “fake Don” who’s life on film will capture the hearts of the audience.
Then it hits him. Instead of writing a life that is movie worthy, why not live a life that is movie worthy? Why not live a worthy story?
A Million Miles In a Thousand Years is the story of his quest to live a worthy story.
Why does this matter? The world is full of people living average stories. If you were to look at most of us, the details of our story are slightly different, but overall the stories are strikingly similar. This is why when you meet someone with an exceptional story, you want to hear about it–because it is rare, it is different. You are moved by it. Maybe you even yearn for one of your own. Good news…
Every story has a protagonist. The protagonist must do protagonistic (this word doesn’t actually exist but, go with me…) things and act in a protagonistic (there it is again…) way in order to win the favor of the audience and ensure that we will cry in the end when the protagonist dies. In a movie, we get to see all the things that the protagonist does that make him or her stand out from all the other nice people who we won’t cry over when they die.
In your story it is easy to assume that you are the protagonist. But are you? Think about it and make sure. When was the last time that you did something that was protagonistic? Something that would cause your audience to fall in love with you, to cheer you on, to root for victory? Furthermore, who is your audience?
You’ve probably never thought of your life like this… I hadn’t until 2 days ago. Maybe when you think of your life as a story, you realize that it’s not interesting enough to make into a screenplay and that makes you sad. More good news. If you’re not happy with your story… change it. If you’re not the protagonist… become the protagonist. Why not? Make sure you live the best story you possibly can. And involve God in the process.
That’s all for now… it’s cold, it looks like rain, and I’m going to hop back into my story.
Trust me on this one. On your way home, swing by your local grocer (for me, the only choice is good ol’ Ray), and…
Purchase the following:
- a scoop of bulk food section granola
- 1 container of vanilla flavored yogurt (brown cow, or otherwise)
- 1 medium sized white peach
Upon returning home:
1. dice peach
2. combine diced peach, granola, and liberal portion of yogurt into an adequately sized bowl
3. Extract spoon from drawer (or clean dish rack — your choice)
4. Consume
5. Resist the temptation to send me a thank you card for opening your world to new levels of delectability, and instead share this simple (and healthy) recipe with a friend.
In case you’re into Math, let me break it down for you:
I was reading from Richard Foster’s book entitled Celebration of Discipline today and I found myself in the chapter devoted to prayer. I was eager to read this chapter because (to be honest) my time with God has been rather stale lately… perhaps you can relate.
The author is discussing the posture in which the Lord wants us to pray. He writes “But Jesus taught us to come like children to a father. Openness, honesty, and trust mark the communication of children with their father.”
He continues by writing “Children do not find it difficult or complicated to talk to their parents, nor do they feel embarrassed to bring the simplest need to their attention. Neither should we hesitate to bring the simplest requests confidently to the father.”
Of course, this is nothing revolutionary or ground-breaking, but when was the last time you acknowledged that Christ is within reach? Here’s the part that really hit me…
“Since we know that Jesus is always with us, let’s imagine that he is sitting over in the chair across from us. He is waiting patiently for us to center our attention on him.”
Take a moment to recognize this reality and turn your focus toward your Father.
Take a moment and read this passage. Go ahead — take some time — and read it carefully. For each of us, there are certain words that pop out to help the story come alive — the italics are mine.
John 20
Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. So she came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, and said, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!”
So Peter and the other disciple started for the tomb. Both were running, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent over and looked in at the strips of linen lying there but did not go in. Then Simon Peter, who was behind him, arrived and went into the tomb. He saw the strips of linen lying there, as well as the burial cloth that had been around Jesus’ head. The cloth was folded up by itself, separate from the linen. Finally the other disciple, who had reached the tomb first, also went inside. He saw and believed. (They still did not understand from Scripture that Jesus had to rise from the dead.)
Then the disciples went back to their homes, but Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.
They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”
“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus.
“Woman,” he said, “why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?” Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.”
Jesus said to her, “Mary.”
She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!”
As children, my sister and I loved the blow dryer. On winter mornings, as my mom perfected her huge, fantastic, unbelievably 80s hairdo, she would stick the blower down the collar of our shirts, letting the warm air dance down our backs.
This was childhood bliss.
It is for this reason alone that I consider a blow dryer a worthy investment. My childhood joy makes up for the decades of embarrassment inflicted on countless others…
Growing up in the Anglican Communion, I spent most of my hours in church coloring. Liturgical church is far from kid-friendly. People use funny words, they bow and kneel without warning, and sometimes it smells as though something is burning. But now, after I have matured (ha!), I find so important that which each service symbolizes.
Here is a quick reference to the services of Holy Week – I wish that more churches would recognize the importance of a season leading up to Easter. I long for this time of year!
Palm Sunday: Celebrates the Messiah’s entry into Jerusalem, and the beginning of Holy Week. We would begin the service outside, process around the church and then into the sanctuary singing hymns.
Tenebrae: is the Latin word for darkness or shadows. The service is often celebrated on Wednesday evening. Burning candles are distinguished one by one as Scripture is read until the last candle (the Christ candle) is extinguished leaving the church in total darkness. The congregation exits in silence and in darkness without a benediction. The service is intentionally left unfinished because Christ’s story is incomplete until the resurrection.
Maundy Thursday: celebrates several events, most notably the last supper with Christ and the Apostles. After the service, there is commonly a feast served while the altar is stripped of all devotional items. Large items such as statues are covered up and hidden. The bells of the church are rung and them remain silent until the Easter Vigil.
Good Friday: remembers the death of Christ at Golgotha. It is customary to remember the Stations of the Cross and pause at each station to reflect on the scene with an anthem or reading. This is a very somber service.
The Great Vigil of Easter: is my favorite service of the year. Even just writing the words gave me the tingles. This service marks Christ defeat of death and victory in the resurrection. The service begins in darkness around a small fire outside. The new Paschal candle is lit and the congregation follows as it is brought into the sanctuary. After Scripture is read, the lights come up and the congregation proclaims “Alleluia!” — the first time since Ash Wednesday. The organ sounds with a joyful hymn, and the congregation celebrates with the first Eucharist (communion) of Easter.
This stuff gets me pumped. It makes me feel like doing this…
Anyway, in my free time lately, I’ve been frequenting the bulk food section of the market and creating my own trail mix. Talk about a good time.
My first attempt pretty much flopped:
Ingredients: almonds, raisins, and way too many walnuts (which taste like cardboard).
Capital bor-ing! Of course, I bought the costco pack of walnuts, almonds, and raisins so I’ve been choking that failure down since Thanksgiving.
This latest attempt — how shall I say — rocks my socks:
Ingredients: Sunflower seeds (minus the shells, of course), pumpkin seeds (spooky), cashew pieces (the “pieces” are key: same great nut, for half the ridiculous price), raisins (my fav), walnuts (in moderation), almonds (pronounced ammonds where I come from), and cranberries (zing!).
In order to whet your appetite, I’ve included a complementary sample (what now, Costco?). It even looks all faded and dreamy on the edges… probably because it’s straight from your imagination.
My friend Bryan and I were driving through Ft. Jones over the weekend when we saw a teenaged boy (let’s just call him the Marshmallow Maniac) walking down the highway with nothing but the clothes on his back and a box of “magically delicious” Lucky Charms, presumably just purchased at the local market.
There was a spring in his step and a smile on his face as he bounced home to consume his disgusting ”magically delicious” Lucky Charms.
We casually commented on how dedicated this young chap was to walk to the store for no other reason than to buy a box of tooth decaying ”magically delicious” Lucky Charms.
We had no idea.
Bryan and I continued at our comfortable rate of 60 mph, drove to Etna (15 or so miles), enjoyed a tasty treat from Dotty’s Corner Kitchen, purchased a few items from Ray’s Foodmart and then began the drive home.
A short geography lesson: from Ft. Jones to my turn off is over 6 miles. six. VI. seis. sechs. 六. SIX!
What’s worse he didn’t even look like he was phased. He was still complete with springy step, bounce, smile, and box of rot your insides ”magically delicious” Lucky Charms!
This sugar fiend had walked over twelve miles round trip seemingly without regret.
Unbelievable.
Here’s to you Marshmallow Maniac, and your dedication to burn a whole in your stomach ”magically delicious” Lucky Charms.
You can create a goal to run more often, run faster, run farther, or burn calories. Once you complete your goal, you receive a medal (they’re fake) to remind you of your progress. Plus, if you close your eyes, and cue up the Star-Spangled Banner you’re pretty much in the olympics.
Coach is very cordial, and doesn’t yell at you when you miss a run. Instead, coach plans a course to guide you toward the distance of your choice. Thanks to coach, In 12 weeks, I’m going to dominate a 10K race… actually, 12 weeks from now is Christmas, so I’ll likely be wearing pajamas, slippers, an ugly robe, and sipping cider from a rudolph mug.
You can challenge all sorts of people. You can challenge people all over the world, or create your own that friends can join. I’m halfway on this challenge to run 100 miles, which puts me in seventeen thousand seven hundred and thirty second place. Victory is within reach.
This little cheerleader does backflips when I run, and snores on the couch when I don’t… my co-worker pointed out that he doesn’t really look like me because my hair is not that shade of brown… that’s right, my hair shade is what stuck out to her. Just so you know, I’m also not blue.
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