a tale of two friends

As close as I can tell, this picture is from 1991 or so. On the left is Nathan Stroebe. In the middle is my friend Doug Cassel. And the dork on the right is me.

(Seriously. "Hey, the Hubble Telescope called - they want their lenses back." What was I thinking?)

Doug and I have been friends since the seventh grade or so. We were both pastor's kids, and we both liked basketball. But for every thing we had in common, it seemed like we had at least as many differences.

Football, for instance. Doug hated playing it. Refused to play during lunch at school, as I remember. Which made it all the more ironic when, on the day the above picture was taken, he caught three touchdown passes as a member of the opposing team. I distinctly remember that every time he caught one in the end zone, he'd drop it like it was covered with slime or something.

Then there was the matter of guns. Doug loved them. Loved shooting 'em, collecting 'em, shooting stuff with 'em. I couldn't care less. Don't get me wrong - if you want to have guns, you should be allowed to have them. But as a hobby, they don't interest me at all. Neither does fishing, which Doug also loves to do.

We got through high school together, though we ended up going to different high schools, and then we both homeschooled our last couple of years. I had no car: he had a beat-up red Chevette with a passenger door that wouldn't open, so we'd get in "Dukes of Hazard" style to go to the mall.

We graduated from high school together in '93. Here we are before putting our caps and gowns on. I'll spare you the sight of us in caps and gowns. (Though everyone has their price, and I'm no exception.)

We both knew God wanted us to be pastors, but our lives took very different paths not long after this. Doug went to college, first in Ohio, then in Indy: spent some time in the military, and was actually stationed in Haiti when I married Kristy: and was an assistant pastor in Iowa and the south side of Chicago. I, on the other hand, went to college in Indiana and Arkansas, with years off in between, then married and became an assistant pastor to my father in central Illinois. I was best man when Doug married Jen in Iowa.

The whole time that all this was going on, we stayed in touch, by mail, by phone, and with the occasional visit. We held on to our dreams of being pastors, even through some really rough and weird times. Even when God was laying some things on my heart about doing church differently, Doug was the first one I got up the nerve to share my ideas with. And he listened, even if he didn't entirely understand, much less agree.

So a couple of years ago, God drops Doug's dream job in his lap. He took the pastorate of an established work in the foothills of southeastern Indiana, in the small town of Linton. He has a congregation that loves him and Jen and their daughter Jessie to death. He gets to hook up his johnboat to his pickup truck and take it down a couple of county roads to the church's campground, complete with a stocked pond. He preaches, he hunts, he fishes, he has a dog and rabbits.

And God is using him greatly. Their church operates a radio station, and their attendance has increased. And I'm pretty sure that Doug and his family couldn't be happier.

Meanwhile, after eight years as an assistant to my father, God called me to lead my family to Indianapolis as the new pastor of the Oaklandon Baptist Church. In many ways, it's my dream job: a small church with a foundation to do great things, located on the outskirts of a major city, with growth happening all around. I have my choice of a half-dozen different kinds of cheeseburgers within a three-minute drive, any time of the night or day. I'm getting to pastor a diverse mix of people. And the Final Four comes to town every five years.

So, as God's sweet ironic sense of humor would have it, our dream jobs are within 90 minutes of each other.

Last night, Kristy and I were honored to be asked to sing at a special service Doug was having at his church. And I got this picture of us, now, after all these years.

We even have matching little Misses. (Doug's Jessie on the left, my Gracie on the right)

Another of our differences is that Doug gets along without internet access for long periods of time just fine, so I'm not sure when he'll see this. All the same, I'm proud of my friend. I know what God has brought him through to get him to this point, and it is incredibly faith-affirming to see God's hand on his life and ministry.

I'm intensely aware of the treasure that our friendship is, and I don't take it for granted. And the longer I live, and as I follow God in the ways of Jesus, I become more and more aware that these kinds of relationships are how God intends for each of us to live out His dreams for our lives. So, if you don't mind a little prodding, allow me to suggest that you mine your relationships for everything that God intended them to be - your life will be richer for it, and you'll be more like Jesus in the process.

Thanks for everything, Doug.

Oh - and thanks to You, God.

For everything.

not 100% good, not 100% bad: it's all good

I've come to realize something about days.

The thing about days is, there aren't very many that are 100% good, or 100% bad, or...100% anything. Most days have some of each - often a lot of each - and you get a lot of chances to experience joy, and frustration, and melancholy, and excitement. In large concentrated doses, in small diluted doses...

Like today, for instance.

The part of today for public consumption began around 8:30 am, when I left the house for an interview toward downtown. The appointment was at 9:30, but a) I wanted to be punctual, and b) my wife Kristy had asked/demanded that I pick up an Indiana drivers manual, because she'd taken the test without studying and had failed.

But you didn't hear that from me.

Anywho, I get to the appointed place, which I realize is in the vicinity of Keystone at the Crossing, a swankier section of shops, businesses and such. I go in for the apointment, only to find out that all the appointments have been cancelled due to some computer/power glitch that had shut down the whole building, and didn't somebody call you? 'Cause someone was calling everyone, and they were supposed to be calling you.

So now I have a little time on my hands, and I realize that I'm near The Fashion Mall, pretty much the height of swankiness as malls go. I decide to take a quick walk through it, even though it doesn't open for another half hour, just so I can see what stores are within said mall. After a brisk twenty-minute stroll, I realize that this mall contains a Bachrach, some other men's store that had great stuff but whose name escapes me, an Apple store, and a Cheescake Factory.

Which pretty much qualifies it as the greatest mall ever.

Even at 9:55 in the morning, with all the doors closed and the snooty shopkeepers wondering what sort of dork walks around malls before they open.

So I go home, have lunch with Kristy and the kids, put the kids down for naps, and head to the church to set up the space for the Sunday worship gatherings. One of the first things I do when I start to set up is to throw open every door I can find. I do this because we have a mother raccoon making her home on the top side of our dropped ceiling. She being a raccoon and all, her lack of understanding of personal hygiene has resulted in a really strong odor if the air hasn't been moved around.

And only slightly less strong when it has.

(We have a professional on the job of catching the raccoon. The professional ascertained that the point at which the raccoon was entering was along the front eave of the church, and thus the best place to set the trap was on the roof, as close to the eave as possible. So, if you drive by our church, you'll notice that there's a steel cage hanging on the roof about three feet up from the edge. Two weeks of hanging there has seen the cage make it through hail and wind that have torn off large chunks of the other shingles, but it has not resulted in a caught raccoon.)

So as I'm turning on lights and opening doors, I glance toward the part of the space where the lectern and my stool are usually set up. And there was my stool, holding the hymnal that I use to lead the singing, and the hymnal was holding...

a puddle of said raccoon's lack of hygiene.

Turns out her understanding of hygiene is not completely lacking, as she had managed to centralize things enough to soak through six inches of fiberglass insulation and a ceiling panel.

So I said a quick and fond farewell to my songbook, and began cleaning, picking up soaked pieces of ceiling panel, vacuuming, mentally calculating my last tetanus shot, and generally feeling frustrated. Bill came along and helped me replace the panels, but by then I'd spent way more time on setup than I had planned.

I picked up Taco Bell for supper, and as I was sitting in the drive-thru, I suddenly thought of a couple who had visited church a couple weeks ago. Really seemed to enjoy themselves, but hadn't been back, and several attempts to see them had resulted in no one home. I wonder if they're home tonight, I thought to myself, and made a mental note that I should try to see them again.

I got home and divvied up the tacos and Cinnamon Twists for supper, and I couldn't get this couple out of my head. After I finished eating, I told Kristy I'd be back in a minute, and drove over to the couple's house.

The man was home this time, watching sleeping grandchildren, so we talked in hushed tones for a few minutes. He explained that they were visiting several area churches, and that he was sure they'd be back. He was very kind and appreciative of the visit, but as a pastor, I hurt a little for people who can't seem to find a church family to connect to. I know it can be a frustrating place to be.

So I'm driving home, talking to God about stuff, and I'm at the entrance to the subdivision where we live. I'm waiting to make a left-hand turn, when it suddenly dawns on me that a woman is standing outside my door, screaming through the glass at me. I roll down my window, and she says, in an overheated, stressed out tone of I know I'm making you hold up traffic, but I really need your help, that... well, I'm not sure exactly what she said. I understood the name of another area subdivision, and I understood her pointing down the road, and then she said something that made me point toward the side door and motion for her to get in.

I drove down the road in the direction she'd pointed, and she began to pour her heart out about how she'd locked everything in her car and she just needed to get to grandma's house and she couldn't believe all this bad stuff was happening to her and she'd had to walk a long ways and oh man, grandma's not there.

At least, I'm pretty sure that's what she said.

So she asked to use my phone, and she called someone and asked for someone else, and as they talked, she started to relax a little. But she still wasn't any closer to getting to where she needed to go. So I told her that I would drive to my house, and then Kristy could take her wherever she needed to go. I called Kristy and told her we were coming, and then tried to calm the young lady down a little. She said something about believing in God and that He was helping her, and I mentioned that I was a follower of Christ, and that we would help her because of what Jesus had done for us.

Then I mentioned that we had just moved into town and that I was a new pastor, and suddenly she burst into tears. She said she knew that God was working, and she thanked me for stopping to help her.

We arrived at my house, and Kristy came out to drive her where she needed to go. She had a stop or two, and in between, she poured her heart out to Kristy. And listened as Kristy explained to her that God had brought her into our lives for a reason. And mentioned as she left that she wanted to talk some more.

Kristy walked in the front door with tears in her eyes. As we talked, we wondered at a God who would orchestrate the mundane to give us opportunities to see His kingdome come.

And then we got a call from a dear friend, sharing news of failed relationships, of children separated from their mother, of arrests and jail time and frustration.

And now I'm here, at the end of this eventful day. My beautiful children are nestled in their beds, anticipating going to church when they wake up. My lovely, caring, ubertalented wife is asleep, having been forced to do so by yours truly.

Never 100% bad, never 100% good. Doesn't seem that way, anyhow.

But certainly a high-enough percentage of good to make the bad worth it, or at least give it some perspective. Enough to give this journey some flava, and stick it out to see where it ends up.

As it turns out, it's all good.

what is this thing you call posting?

I know, I know. It's been too long.

I'll take a few moments here to explain why:

You know how you always hear that you should get a surge protector for your computer, 'cause you never know when lightning might come through your line?

Well, I hadn't gotten one, and I was pretty sure I knew when lightning was going to come through my line: never.

So two weeks ago last Friday, a mondo storm comes through our area. We're sitting down at the table, ready to pray over supper, when a sound like a shotgun blast goes off right by my ear. Then the smell of burning stuff wafts over the meatloaf.

Come to find out, lightning came through. No major damage, thank goodness, just some outlets in the kitchen and a few random outlets throughout the house.

Oh yeah, and the network card on my computer was fried.

There are ways around this, of course, and I tried to make them work, but to no avail.

At the same time that this happened, we made the decision that, since our home phone was only being used to accept 25 telemarketing calls a day, we would disconnect it. This apparently meant a world-changing effort on the part of our provider, who couldn't make the change from digital voice/internet to just internet without the network card that had recently been fried.

So into the shop the computer goes, out it comes with a new network card, and after two more days of wrangling with the provider to get connected, we're back online.

So I'll drop a few highlights from the past several weeks, with more steady writing to come.

- We're fine.

- The church is doing well: we're averaging 30 for the past month, and we're making really good connections amongst ourselves and in our community. The feedback from our members has been positive and supportive, and we're seeing God begin to do His thing here.

- I haven't found a second job yet, but I'm pretty close. I have an interview Friday, and it looks like God might be dropping an awesome job into my lap. Keep that in your prayers.

- Mrs. Kristy and I have talked through how lonely it feels sometimes, without the relationships we had established. Who do we miss the most? With all due love and respect to everyone else in our lives, we miss our teens the most. Without question. We miss everyone terribly, but them the most.

- Mrs. Kristy and I had our first date afternoon last Saturday. We drove downtown, checked out the Circle Center Mall, the Children's Museum, and some other stuff. Man, this is one sweet town, let me tell you.

- Oh yeah! I've registered redhedrev.com, and it currently will direct you to this site. In the future, I hope to do some other stuff. So, if you have my blog address saved, please change it to www.redhedrev.com. And the church has registered www.oaklandonbaptist.net and www.abaptistfaithcommunity.net - those addresses will redirect you to the church's blog site.

- I'm going to put together a blogroll page, and have a link to it in the sidebar. So if I know you and you'd like to be on my blogroll - or if you don't know me and would still like to be on my blogroll - leave me a comment with your blog address, or email me.

That should about do it for now.

P.S. Earth to Perkins - earth to Perkins - do you read?

my blogroll, heretofore known as the redhedrevroll

• This list is constantly being added to. (Isn't there a more concise way to say that?) If you're not here, and you'd like to be, just let me know. I'll see what I can do.
• There is value in each of these viewpoints. Thus, they are here. I don't agree with everything anyone says. Neither do you. And yet, the value remains.

Blood and Bond*

m'lady ~ sister Nom ~ sister Em ~ sister-in-law Karen
*with sincere apologies to greenemama - the title was too good to pass up

My Teens

Andrea ~ Blair ~ Brian ~ Chris ~ Christen ~ Contessa

My SMI Friends*

Aaron ~ Bryan ~ Derek ~ Fritz ~ James ~ Seth ~ Anthony/Jason
*I worked with these guys at Samaritan Ministries. They stopped being my friends on February 17, 2006.**
**Just kidding.

Friends of the non-SMI variety

Dustin ~