Twenty-one year old Cejudo wins gold.

"I was born and raised in the U.S. and I don't forget that. As much as I love Mexican heritage, I'm American first and foremost. The U.S. is a land of opportunity and you choose your own path." - Henry Cejudo

This son of Mexican illegals won the gold for the USA in men's freestyle, today. He's an amazing athlete with an amazing story. Wednesday brings two more opportunities for the US to medal in freestyle wrestling when Doug Schwab (former Iowa Hawkeye) and Ben Askren (former Missouri Tiger) compete in Beijing. Schwabb and Askren present an interesting study of stylistic differences in thier sport.

Schwab is relatively typical of Brands/Gable/Hawkeye trained wrestlers, who tend to prefer a straight ahead, aggressive (nearly abusive) style of competing. Europeans hate it. I love it. Askren on the otherhand is known for his unorthdox approach to the sport. He does things you aren't suppose to do, and violates fundamental principles. One might think that Askren's style is that of a natural whose athleticism rewards scrambling and improvisation. This however is not the case. Askren consciously developed this radical style after entering college and realizing that his modest athleticism left him virtually unable to keep up at the division one level of NCAA wrestling. Necessity is the mother of invention, so Askren reinvented himself leading to a couple of NCAA titles and a spot on the Olympic team. If you catch any of his matches on tv or the internet, expect the unexpected.

Does China Permit Freedom of Religion?

Dear International Olympic Committee,

Now that Michael Phelps has achieved the unbelievable, winning a buh-zillion gold medals and shattering multiple world records, it would seem he has no where else to go in the sport of swimming.  There's no one else to beat.  No more records to shatter, for this guy and he's only 23.  So here's what I propose.  If Phelps wants to keep competing in swimming, that's fine but there are some stipulations which now must be imposed.  

1.  First, no more super-fast, high-tech, rubberized swimming suit.  From now on he competes in overalls, snow boots and a carhart jacket.  

2.  Second, enough with the World Records.  From now on he's only allowed to set Other-World records.  As soon as NASA confirms the presence of liquid water on Mars, our first priority should be to get Phelps to the red planet by any means necessary.  

3.  Third, he has nothing to prove by continuing to race people.  We all know Phelps is faster than all other people.  Now the other lanes of the pool will be occupied by sharks.   (Chum may be utilized according to the discretion of the host nation).  

4.  Fourth, it may be that Phelps has simply exhausted the limitations of "water" as an athletic medium.  Should the previous three stipulations fail to provide him with a competitive challenge, Michael will henceforth be required to compete in swimming pools filled with alternative substances.  For instance foam packaging pellets, dead batteries, or quarters.  

Latest Dr's Report on Sam...

Sam's Rheumatologist called tonight with the MRI results. They saw a lot of increased edema in the muscles which is what they expected to see. There is no way at this point to tell what muscle is recoverable and what muscle is not recoverable. The doctor rates the severity of Sam's disease as an 8.5 on a 1-10 scale. Severity does not necessarily suggest anything about the long term prognosis or about the liklihood of a good response to treatment. She also said while some kids respond quickly to treatment, we shouldn't get too discouraged if we don't see signs of improvement in Sam for a couple of months. Charity asked her if he would be able to play sports in highschool. She said, "He won't be an olympic athlete" which seems to me to suggest that she anticipates long term, unrecoverable damage of the sort that would cause some permanent physical limitations. (So I guess your records are safe for now, Phelps).

Every new bit of news we recieve - each test result and phone call- seems to dim the lights a little lower and take a bit more wind out of my sails.

__________________

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain;
God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.

-from William Cowper's God Moves in a Mysterious Way

from the mouths of babes...

One of the side effects of Sam's medication is pretty extreme moodiness. Think of a four year old with roid-rage. That's basically what he's going through. He's happy, sweet, loving, angry, sad, grumpy and happy again- all in a matter of minutes. As hard as it is to watch him go through the emotional turmoil all this brings, there have been some good quotes which have come out of it. These are all things Sam has said in just the last few days, each of which I find interesting for various reasons. I'll do them in order of my favorite:

5. Mommy, I love that baby in your belly.
4. Mommy, I love you just because there's a baby in your belly.

* These two quotes bring joy to our hearts! He really is such a sweet kid who has always gone out of his way to give affection. Already he loves his little sibling, and loves his mother for carrying the child. 

3. Can me and Jack punch each other?

* This question was asked in all seriousness and with complete calmness and sincerity. I had brought home the game Rock em Sock em Robots for the boys to play together- thinking it might help dispel some boyhood aggression. Jack & Sam were very impressed with the game. I mean, Robots that Punch each other until their heads pop off? Come on. That's Awesome. But Sam of course, (feeling grumpy at the time) wanted to know if he and his big brother could slug it out for real. At least he asked first. 

2. I want to be mean to somebody.

*This confession was offered up recently (I think it was at the dinner table). There was no context. No conflict. No yelling or crying. Just a calm, rational expression of his desire to inflict bodily harm on another human being. To which I confessed feeling the exact same desire and explained that's why daddy does Jiu Jitsu twice a week. Then I told him that if he wants, when he's older he can learn boxing, or wrestling or jiu-jitsu if he'd like. Because those are sports where it's okay to be "mean" to somebody. He was satisfied with that. (And as they say in my jiu jitsu gym after teaching a particularly painful maneuver- "It's not mean. It's jiu Jitsu.") 

1. I'm sad because of grown ups.

* This was at the hospital immediately after receiving medication in the most uncomfortable manner possible. (Think "going in the out door"). He burst into tears and was crying like his heart was broken. We were trying to figure out what was upsetting him, as it's not suppose to be a painful procedure. And he finally offered up between sobs "I'm sad because of grown ups!" Yes indeed, little buddy. 

[Also, Sam gave me a couple of good ideas for the working title of my memoirs, which are to be published posthumously. "Sad Because of Grown Ups" or "Can We Punch Each Other?" Both of these will work,  I suppose. Maybe I'll let my Estate determine the final title.]

Three in a Million

Last night I got out the kids' expandable, spring loaded tunnel fort and set it up on the dining room table.  It's blue.  And looks like an owl.  Which is hard to imagine if you've not actually seen it, because owls are neither blue nor tunnel shaped, and are (almost never) spring loaded.   Picking up our , blue-eyed boy I slid him head first into the fabric cylinder.  Legs straight, arms at sides, body still but eyes darting.  He listened to the clunks, bonks, and bleeps fuzzing out of the speakers of our emac.  At four or five years old, it's an ancient machine when measured by the standards of an industry that survives by way of planned obsolescence.  We hope it survives a little longer.  It holds all of our photos.  Which are really just 1's and 0's.  But to us they are memories.  It's always hard to imagine that it's just 1's and 0's when you're looking at the photos.  There's one of Charity holding our newborn daughter on her first day home from the hospital.  They both look so tired.  Being born, giving birth.  Such hard work.  

For over a year our middle child Sam has exhibited a strange rash on his fingers, knees, elbows, toes and face.  Multiple trips to our pediatrician yielded little in the way of a solution.  Initial diagnosis was eczema.  The treatments didn't seem to help.  Soon thereafter it seems Sam began to grow weaker physically.  It wasn't too apparent at first, but in hindsight we can see it. Eventually the problem became undeniable, especially when we observed him playing with other children his own age, and as we watched his little sister grow and develop and play.  At first the doctor suspected muscular dystrophy.  We were elated when the test results came back negative.  

Now it seems we have a diagnosis.  Juvenile Dermatomyostis.  It is a three in a million disease. The good news is that most children respond well to the treatments and the disease can usually be sent into remission.  Sometimes it never comes back.  It is a very serious disease however.  In the 1960's the mortality rate for JDM was 30%.  In the 1970's that rate dropped to 10% as better treatment strategies were developed.  Today the number is fortunately down around 1%.

"Almost never fatal"  It's one of those sentences that jumps off the page and grabs you round the neck.  It's good news, right?  It's good news that the disease your son has is "almost never" fatal.  1%.  That's one in a hundred.  How can you not be encouraged by odds like that?  Paint a penny blue.  Put it in a jar with 99 others.  Close your eyes and pick one.  Who wouldn't take those odds?  

After several seconds, I slid Sam out of the big, blue owl.  (No chords to cut this time).  We talked about it.  "Now that's sort of what it will be like.  We can practice again if you'd like.  And remember, Daddy will be right there beside you the whole time, ready for when you come out". So later today Charity and I are taking Sam back to the hospital for an MRI.  Because we're expecting again, Charity can't be in the room with him, so I'm going to do it.  I can't imagine having an MRI at just four-years old (old for a computer, young for a boy).  Hopefully our practice round last night on the dining room table will take the edge off of the fear.  I don't know how to calculate the odds on something like that.     

don't call it a comeback...

After much time, I've decided to resurrect the old blog with a new focus and a new commitment and a new header. Stay tuned.

Here's my contribution to your quality of life...

"New technology links people over greater distances, but cuts into face-to-face meeting time.
The number of people who say they have no one to talk to about important matters has more than doubled, according to a new study by sociologists at Duke University and the University of Arizona.
Increased use of the Internet, along with the number of hours people are spending at work, are factors contributing to a drastic decline in the number of close friends that Americans have.
The findings are published in the June 2006 issue of the journal American Sociological Review."



Turn off your damn computer and go make a new friend. Maybe someone with a face that doesn't require a monitor and a keyboard to talk to. It's been a pleasure posting. And I've enjoyed the interaction. This blog is done.

Stay funky.

sleepy girls

Willie Neslon's ecclesiology is better than most evangelicals'.

Nelson seen here demonstrating his one point plan for church growth and revitalization. Hooray, Willie!

She thinks the fireworks were just for her.

Leonora Illuminata, 19.5 inches, 6 lbs 11
"Ella" was born Monday morning, July 3rd at 7:20 AM. Everyone is doing well.
We all need sleep. Except Ella. She's sleeping great.

Best Name for a Book I've Heard in a Long Time!

Subjective artists are one-eyed, but objective artists are blind.
- Georges Rouault

Recording 6/10/06

Recording 6/10/06

Helping the Poor is Fun.

Here is a great post from KDNY on his blog.

Another good one...

Boyish Imagination

Douglas Wilson

Part of the legacy we have (if you want to call it that) from the Romantic movement is the idea that discipline and imagination go ill together. Creativity and imagination must burble forth spontaneously from the artistic heart, we think. However, the more we have encouraged this notion, the uglier our surroundings get. Something is wrong somewhere.

Because we think that discipline and imagination cannot be friends, we therefore choose between them. We opt for discipline, as most Christians do, rejecting imagination, or we embrace imagination, saying farewell to the discipline. It rarely occurs to us to consider the possibility of feeding, nourishing and disciplining the imagination in the light of Scripture. C.S. Lewis observed this tendency when he said of much modern art and literature that it was "mere puddles of spilled sensibility or reflection." He saw that it is often the case that greater care and work goes into low-brow art. But, he warned, "Do not misunderstand. The high-brow productions may, of course, reveal a finer sensibility and profounder thought. But a puddle is not a work, whatever rich wines or oils or medicines may have gone into it."†
Boys have a vivid imaginative life. Boys also require a good bit of discipline. It should not be surprising that one of the boyish attributes needing discipline is consequently the imagination. When this is done right, our sons will grow up into very effective culture warriors. But when this is neglected, boys drift into dangerous territory. Without instruction and discipline, a vivid imagination becomes a hothouse for all kinds of sin. A hunger for easy glory can become an excuse for indolent daydreaming, and of course, when a boy is sexually undisciplined, having a vivid imagination is the last thing he needs.
Because of this, many Christian parents have simply opted to suppress or starve the imaginative life, apparently on the theory that if there is no imagination there will be no imaginative sinning. This is quite true, but it is true in the same sense as when children aren't given any food, they will escape eating disorders—because they are dead. When discipline is chosen over imagination, the result is a disciplined life, what is left of it.
Discipline of the imagination is positive, not negative. It is not applied by spanking unimaginative bottoms. Rather, boys are taught to discipline this aspect of their hearts and minds through being taught the beauty of the gospel, the power of the gospel, and how far God intends the effects of the gospel to extend.
The story of the gospel is a glorious story. We do not tell our children about it because we think of the gospel as a set of propositions in the sky, not a series of great deliverances fought and accomplished on Earth.
We start where Christians must always start, with the story about the seed of the woman triumphing over the seed of the serpent. We tell the story of Jesus Christ, as Scripture does, with our Lord in the role of the dragon slayer. The serpent in the first book of the Bible is also found in the last book, where he is described as that ancient serpent. He is the devil, the murderer from the beginning, crushed under the heel of the great son of Eve. God destroyed him who had the power of death, that is, the devil. Christ triumphed over the principalities and powers, humiliating them deeply. Christ is the archtype of all dragon-slayers, the archtype of all giant killers. As He put it, when He bound the strong man, He stripped him of all his panoply. Christ defeated the devil and made off with his armor.
But He did not do this so that we could sit and watch. We are to watch, consider, imitate, and then take care to tell our sons the stories about the wars. We always begin with the war as won by Christ, but we remember that He commanded us, in our turn, to preach the gospel to every creature, to disciple all the nations, and throw down every enemy that sets himself against the course of the gospel.
The saints have been doing this for a long time. And this is why we tell our sons the story of Beowulf and how he killed the twisted descendents of Cain, and then how he gave his life killing the dragon. This is why we tell stories about St. George and the dragon. This is why we are to talk about great King Alfred, fighting off heathen invaders. And this is even why we read to wide-eyed boys the wonderful story of Jim, who allowed that he would blow Israel Hand's brains out. We tell the great story of Shasta, who turned back to face the lion. We must read The Lord of the Rings to our sons, more than once.
But our lack of imagination has us by the throat. We fuss and bother about this. Treasure Island is a work of fiction, we mutter. The Horse and His Boy is a work of fiction about a nonexistent world, for crying out loud. St. George is probably not a historically verifiable incident. And Gandalf is a wizard.
I can think of no better or truer reply to all this than to paraphrase that of Puddleglum when he was confronted with a similar argument. Fine. These are all works of fiction. But they tell a truer story—and far more real—than the empty, cavernous, and very dark world in which many parents want their hollow-souled children to live.

Word for word the best advice I ever read about raising boys.

Future Men

Douglas Wilson

As much as it may distress us, our boys are future men.

I was once leading a seminar for teachers at our Christian school and, in the course of discussion, I mentioned that many of the girls in the school would, within a few short years, be adult women and would take their place in our midst. The teachers heard all this with aplomb, but when I went on to say that within a few short years the boys they were instructing would be lawyers, airline pilots, pastors, etc. the looks on the faces of the assembled teachers ranged from concern to mild panic. Boys take a lot of faith.
This is good because the presence or absence of faith reveals whether or not we have a biblical doctrine of our future. Unbelief is always anchored to the present, while faith looks at that which is unseen. But even here we only get half the picture. Too often we think that faith only looks at unseen heavenly things, but this truncated approach is really the result of an incipient gnosticism. In the Bible, faith includes the ability to see that which is unseen because it is still future. According to the text, Abraham rejoiced to see the day of Christ, not the day when he, Abraham, would go to heaven. Faith conquers kingdoms, faith stops the mouths of lions, faith turns armies to flight, and faith brings boys up to a mature and godly masculinity.
But another qualification must be added. The faith exhibited by wise parents of boys is the faith of a farmer, or a sculptor, or anyone else engaged in the work of shaping unfolding possibilities. It is not the faith of someone waiting around for lightning to strike; it is the faith of someone who looks at the present and sees what it will become—through grace and good works.
Countless examples may be multiplied from any given day in the life of a small boy. Say a boy breaks a chair because he was jumping on it from the bunk bed. Unbelief sees the cost of replacing the chair. Faith sees aggressiveness and courage, both of which obviously need to be channeled and disciplined. Suppose a boy gets into a fight protecting his sister. Unbelief sees the lack of wisdom that created a situation that could have been easily avoided; faith sees an immature masculinity that is starting to assume the burden of manhood.
Unbelief squashes; faith teaches. Faith takes a boy aside, and says that this part of what you did was good, while that other part of what you did got in the way. “This is how to do it better next time.”
This issue of fighting provides a good example of how necessary such distinctions are. Of course parents do not want to encourage fighting in their sons. But this is not the only item on the menu. Neither do they want to encourage abdication and cowardice. There are times when men have to fight. It follows that there will be times when boys have to learn how to fight, how to walk away, how to turn the other cheek, when to turn the other cheek, and when to put them up. If boys don’t learn, men won’t know. And boys will not learn unless their fathers teach.
When Theodore Roosevelt was at Harvard, he taught Sunday School for a time at Christ Church, until he was dismissed. A boy showed up one Sunday with a black eye. He admitted he had been fighting, and on a Sunday too. He told the future President that a bigger boy had been pinching his sister, and so he fought him. TR told him that he had done perfectly right and gave him a dollar. The vestrymen thought this was a bit much, and so they let their exuberant Sunday school teacher go.
Unbelief cannot look past the surface. If there was any sin involved, unbelief sees only the sin. Faith sees what was turned aside to the service of sin and seeks to turn it back again. Sin is parasitic and cannot function without some good attributes that it seeks to corrupt. Consequently, faith must distinguish that which must be preserved and developed and that which must be abandoned as sin.
In addition, faith also sees the godliness in what many pietists have come to call sin. At the beginning of his life, a boy does not know what century he was born in, and consequently exhibits to many of his politically correct and aghast elders some of the same traits exhibited by the boyhood chums of Sennacherib and Charlemagne. He doesn’t know any better—yet. But in our day, many of these created masculine traits are drilled out of him by the time he is ten. Faith resists this ungodly process, and defines sin by the Scriptures, and not by pietist traditions.
So faith is central in bringing up boys, but it is important to remember that the faith is not faith in the boy. It is faith in God, faith in His promises, faith in His wisdom. Faith concerns the boy, and the boy can see that it concerns him. Parents are to believe God for their sons, which is a very different thing than believing their sons.
Faith is not wishful thinking; faith apprehends the promises of God found in Scripture. “The children of thy servants shall continue, and their seed shall be established before thee” (Ps. 102:28). Faith sees a son as established, and the work of faith goes on to establish him. Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
God is the One who places a particular boy in a particular home. And He does so in order that those parents who believe and obey Him might come to delight in a wise son. “My son, if thine heart be wise, my heart shall rejoice, even mine. Yea, my reins shall rejoice, when thy lips speak right things” (Prov. 23:15-16).