I don’t have to try very hard to describe the greatness in the video below.  It will make you want to turn off your computer, and begin to run, Forrest Gump style to the nearest mountain range.  Be sure to watch this in full screen mode.  You won’t regret it.

I watched this video after I completed a few of my nightly geek chores.  The music and the majestic images mesmerized me.   Tears almost broke through… almost.

The second image of greatness takes a little more explanation.

Earlier today I visited a nursing home.  I wasn’t there to visit a relative, a church member, or a Branson neighbor; I was there on geek business.  (No crawl spaces today – yay!)

I scurried through the nursing home’s halls and dining area scoping out a path for new computer cables.  As I briskly walked around in my best business-like stride, I could not ignore the faces around me.

There were a few men who still had the sparkle in their eyes and an ornery smirk about them.  But they were the exception.  Vacant and expressionless faces dominated the scene.  I did my best to smile and make eye contact.  I hardly ever even got a head nod back.

My heart felt heavy as I thought about the potential stories that left each of these souls stranded in that building.  Family obligations… health concerns… convenience…  Very happy thoughts indeed.

Fast forward to this evening.  We had a church board meeting at the home of one of the board members.  This board member takes care of his 90-plus year-old dad.  The dad is fading.  He is mentally there most of the time.  After his wife of 70+ years went to heaven last year, dad has began to fade.  There’s still a sparkle…

The image of greatness that struck me was that of the faithful, dutiful son.  Instead of spending his days pursuing his own dreams, he lives on the family ranch and takes care of his dad.  There’s nothing glamorous or exciting about it at all – cooking, cleaning, trips to the doctor, shopping, laundry… over and over and over.  The son has chosen a life of ordinary, predictable, humble, service.  Without knowing it, his life is a mastepiece-level  painting of faithfulness that inspires me.  I am glad to serve Jesus with him.

In a society that praises adventure, risk, wealth, and self-glorification, the son’s real-life image of greatness surpassed the greatness and majesty of Yosemite’s peaks in my eyes today.

Disclaimer: This is a long post, but its been several months and I feel like writing!

Its time to break tradition.  I’m pretty sure I won’t get fired for this…

Until today, I’ve made it a policy to never blog about what happens at my day job.  For those of you that don’t know, in addition to be a pastor and a freelance geek-for-hire, for the last several years I’ve been a phone tech, geek-for-hire at an independent local phone company.  I’ve run into several very interesting characters and I’ve had some great stories to tell my wife and kids.  I haven’t written about any of these adventure for two reasons: (1) I don’t want to accidentally offend a customer and make my company look bad, and (2) people out here in extremely rural America carry guns and grudges.  I’ve haven’t posted any of those stories until today.

You may not know this, but I was a victim of profiling when I was hired for this phone tech job.  No, I wasn’t racially profiled, I’m convinced I was genetically profiled.  They didn’t really say this during my interview, but they really needed a crawl-space specialist.  Someone not prone to claustrophobia, arachnophobia, rat-poop-ophobia, and most-importantly someone short.  When I hear someone in the office say, “take Brad Doherty with you,” there’s a crawl-space out there with my name on it.

Crawl spaces come in all shapes and sizes and can be filled with all sorts of lovely treasures.  Manufactured homes have plenty of room to move around, but the steal beams will draw blood from a nearly bald scalp if a hat is not worn.  If you’re really lucky, a herd of cats will discover that the dirt in a crawl space makes for a great litter box.  Depending on the drainage situation outside of the house and the time of year, the mud get a little, well, muddy.  (Hint: if you ever build a home, please create a four-foot crawl space.  Your phone guy will send you flowers.) 

Then there are the arachnids… I’ll get to that in a little bit.

Today’s crawlspace was nicely situated under a 60-year old, two-story ranch homestead.  Two of my friends (who I’m pretty sure won’t hunt me down for sharing this story) had a bad phone wire somewhere under their house in the crawl space.  When I arrived on site, I knew this crawl space had some real potential. The entry point was on the opposite end of the house from where the bad wires were (Murphy has several laws that make this nearly always true).  The crawl-space started out at a comfortable bent-elbow crawling height.  There were the usual spider webs and nests around the entry, but that was no big deal. My flashlight revealed that the clearance got cozier further in.  I had no idea.

About 30 feet in, the clearance went from bent-elbow height to military crawl height.  Again, no big deal.  The ground was dry, no animal messes to drudge through, easy-cheesy.  Then I came to what I call, the tiny hole.

One load-bearing wall in the house was supported in the crawl-space by a small wall of fairly large rocks.  At various points in time, rocks had been removed from this wall to make way for plumbing pipes and allow access under the other half of the house.  The bad wires I needed to replace were partly in the comfy military crawl zone I was currently in and partly under the “other” half.  The only way into the other half was through the tiny hole.

With my head tilted 90 degrees to the side, one arm forward and one arm back at my side, I began to ooch (I’m certain that’s a word) through the tiny hole. With my head and shoulders through the hole, I remembered the exhale-scoot spelunking technique as I felt the tiny hole put some pressure on my back and chest. I gave out a long breath, causing my chest to compress and giving me just enough more room to ooch the rest of the way through.

That was pretty cool… the smallest hole I’d breached yet.  But that was just warm up.  Only three feet ahead, I had to get under the “think skinny” pipe.  The think-skinny pipe had less vertical clearance than the tiny hole, but it had a little give to it, so I was able to get head under, then gently push it up as I worked my way under.

The spooky part was the jungle that laid beyond the think-skinny pipe.

I needed to retrieve the new wires from a wall 20 feet past the think-skinny pipe.  Grass from the outside lawn had sent hundreds of runners under that wall and into the last 20 feet I had to crawl through.  The home owner followed me  into the military crawl zone and he could see through the holes in the rock wall into the jungle I was about to crawl through. He shouted “Brad, this looks like something straight out of Indiana Jones!”  He was right.  Instead of a machete, I used my flashlight to hack my way through.  The dry roots broke easily, but I was more concerned about the spider egg nests and webs (and the critters that make those webs) that grew more numerous the closer I got to my destination wall.

As I crawled under each floor joist, I slowly peeked up to see if anything was about to fall down on me.  I had my cap on backwards and my coat pulled as high up on my neck as it would go.  No creepy-crawlies down the neck, thank you very much.

When I got close enough to the wall to reach out and grab my wires, I decided to slowly look around.  Within three feet of me, I saw 3 black widow spiders and a brown one that had recluse potential.  I tried not to think about how many I couldn’t see.  I was relieved when I looked straight up and didn’t see anything moving.  Needless to say, I didn’t waste any time pulling my new wires away from there.

I ooched around 180 degrees, scooted back down the path I cleared through the jungle, made it under the think-skinny pipe, and exhaled my way though the tiny hole into the military crawl zone.  Victory!…. almost. 

After I got the new wires up through the floor, I had to go all the way back through the jungle to staple the new wire up to the joists to keep them up out of the dirt… yep, that meant two more trips through the tiny hole.  I was getting good at this.  But I wasn’t done yet…

With the job finished, and slowly packed my gear towards the back towards the entry point.  I was about 10 feet from the exit, when I heard a beep from my phone.  Not just any beep, but the beep that means the phone just lost it’s bluetooth connection to my earpiece.  I forgot to take it off before I started the project and somewhere in all of the ooching and crawling and exhaling,  it fell out of my ear into the dirt of the crawl space.  You can guess where I found it… at the far end of the jungle!  Yes, that’s right, two more trips through the tiny hole. 

So what did I learn from today?

God made today’s task for me and me for today’s task.  In Ephesians, Paul tells us that God has good works for us to do, and that he had those tasks  planned planned out from before the creation of the world.  He also made us for those tasks.

Specifically, God created me to physically and psychologically be the guy for today’s task.  I am the only guy on our staff that could have fit through tiny hole.  I’m not claustrophobic at all. Most importantly,  Spiderman has always been and will always be my favorite superhero.

Never ever get into an imagination contest with a 5-year old.  You will lose. I sure did.

Brock and I had a “Daddy & Brock Day” this week.  It was one of those special days were Jodi took the 2 other yahoos into town, allowing Brock and I to have some long overdue one on one time.  The day became way too hot for our original plan of hiking, so we spent about an hour swimming in the pool, had a fun picnic lunch under the trees… then the mind-blowing began.

Still under the shade of our trees, we sat on our 2-person swing looking up at the clouds.  All I had to say was “Those clouds look pretty cool, don’t they.”  Then the fun started.

Brock: That one looks like a rat.  Splinter from the mutant ninja turtles.  Your turn, Daddy.

Me: That one looks like a dog.

Brock: There’s a man with a funny face.  And a lion getting ready to pounce.  Your turn, Daddy.

Me:  Um… well… let me see… I think I see a…

Brock: There’s a cat, and a woman reaching over a wall to pick up her baby.  There’s a castle with a moat and towers.  Your turn Daddy.

And on and on it went for thirty minutes.

Brock’s imagination flew at warp speed while I struggled to find clouds that looked like anything but marshmallows and cotton balls.  I simply could not keep up.  While I strived to see something cool, he just said what he saw without regard to it’s cool factor… which made his sightings profound and incredible.

I like to think that I’m a creative person… but my creativity and imagination fails in comparison to that of my children.  Isn’t that true for all of us.  We adults have let life and responsibility and maturity and vocations and stressors and technology… the list could go on for a long time… dull our imagination and creativity.  We become so consumed in producing or thinking or feeling something good or cool or productive that we don’t know how to imagine like we did as children.

My challenge to you is to take a few moments of purely un-productive time and go outside and look up.  Gave at the clouds, or the stars, or the unending blue of the summer sky.  Lay down so you don’t stress your neck.  Let your imagine go.  What would the 5-year old inside you see?  What adventures would he have racing through the clouds or riding the stars?

God gave you imagination.  Take a few minutes today to let that imagination run.

He knew that Jesus was listening.  The confidence in his voice was the same as when he very matter-of-factly “asks” me for a glass of milk.  Will knows I will get him a glass of milk… unless its his third glass of milk in five minutes right before dinner.

Where is that confidence when I talk to God?  Way too often I sound sheepish or petty or repetitive or boring or disinterested when I’m talking to God.  Maybe I try to sound like a mature Christian when I pray because for some reason I need to convince myself that I’m worthy of talking to God.

Pretty retarded, huh.

There are times to talk to God, our loving Daddy and times to humble ourselves before the all-powerful creator of everything… times to honestly (and sheepishly) ask for forgiveness and times to confidently ask for rain.

The next time you talk to Jesus, let the time be what it needs to be.  Don’t try to sound too churchy, or too casual… just be natural and let your conversation with God flow.  With a little practice, it becomes easier than you think. 

You may even find yourself praying with your loud outside voice once in a while.

John Eldredge’s Waking the Dead rocked my world.

This book has been sitting on my bookshelf for at least five years.  Having thoroughly enjoyed Wild At Heart, I jumped into Waking the Dead about five years ago expecting the same gung-ho he-man testosterone-laden spiritual slugfest that Wild at Heart had brought on a year prior.  At the time, that’s what I wanted… and Waking the Dead failed to deliver… then.

That was then, this is now.

The last several months have been very graying.  Not in hair-color, but in vibrancy of life and passion for ministry.  I’d really  been questioning and doubting my effectiveness in my roles in our church and in our town.  My life… in fact my very existence… had grayed into anything but the purposeful adventure that I knew it should be.

The spark began to light again as I studied Second Timothy, not because I wanted to, but because I had to for my pastor job.  The themes of purpose, rescue, battle, soldiers, and focus began to stir something inside me.  That’s where God had lead my heart to when I picked up that dusty copy of Waking the Dead.  God used His Word to prime my heart for what He wanted to say to me through Waking the Dead.

I’m not going to give details or write an in-depth review, but I will say that book has caused me think about life, ministry, and the basics of why God did what he did for me in a way that no other book has.  This book is not gender-specific like Wild at Heart was… the Scriptural truths Eldredge presents speak to all of us.  As a result, I’ve seriously questioned some of the “fundamentals” I’ve been taught and that I’ve preached to my congregation… in a very good way.

You may be ready for it, you may not.  If you are, Waking the Dead could rock your world in an epic way.

First, a little background.

1.  The cat used to be named “Muffin” until she was given to our boys, who renamed her “Wander Cat” because she wanders around town.

2.  Jodi has never been a pet person. She had a rabbit or two as a kid, but that really doesn’t count for those of us who had real pets.  I’m sure I’ll get a flood of comments and hate-mail now from the rabbit-loving nation…

3.  Wander Cat is our first cat to survive our owl-infested town for an extended period of time. She’s won the hearts of the boys, the neigbors, and even my non-pet loving wife.

That said, I happened to be home today when Wander Cat went into labor.  She got very clingy and wouldn’t let Brock (my 5 year old) or me out of her sight.  I pulled out a box with an old beach towel in it and she jumped right in.  She acted just like my wife prior to labor: she couldn’t get comfortable, she didn’t move a whole lot, and she had a look of “please don’t go anywhere right now” in her eyes when she looked at me or Brock.

Then the magic started.  Her whole midsection contracted 8 or 9 times, then there was a wet kitten.  Wander Cat immediately cleaned the kitten and cleaned up the afterbirth and the kitten immediately started to root around for some milk.  There was about a 30 minute break between each kitten.  Brock and I witnessed the first 2 births, then I had to take Brody to a Cub Scout pack meeting.

After returning home for the evening and putting the boys down to bed, Jodi and I spent about 15 minutes in with Wander Cat and the little ones.  Jodi felt her pain and knew she was hungry, so my wife put about a handful of cat-food next to Wonder Cat, who gratefully scarfed it down.

Okay, now for the reflective thoughts.  Well, it’s really one thought with a set of related thoughts…

1.  How amazing is the God who creates life! That’s the big thought, in case you were wondering.

(Before you read on, you should know that I’m not trying to start a creation-vs-evolution debate at all.  I’m just amazed at how it all works.  For the record, I don’t know how it all started, I don’t think anyone really does… and I’m okay with that.  So please don’t respond with long-winded fact ridden paragraphs from either side of the table… let’s just marvel at how amazing life is.)

2.  How can evolutionary biology explain the motherly instinct? Why do virtually all mammal and bird mothers automatically care for and protect their young while the dads could basically care less?  The motherly instinct is one of God’s most beautiful and amazing creations.  I picked up one of the kitties for about 3 seconds and Wander Cat gave me the look.  Don’t mess with a momma.

3.  How can evolutionary biology explain mammary glands? How crazy is it that mammal babies survive by eating a substance that is secreted by their mother’s bodies?   That’s both crazy and funny! I would never have planned it that way (I’m not sure how I would have planned it, but surely not that way).  Each of those kittens knew that they needed to head for chow right away… and they got that chow from sucking on their mom’s body.  Simply amazing.

4.  This was purely natural. I’ve watched my wife give birth to each of our three sons and each was a very special event.  However, my sons were born in state of the art hospitals, as Jodi was in a specialized bed, coached on by trained mid-wives, monitored by professional nurses, and married to a husband who endured …. I mean willingly attended… birthing classes.  Even now moms that choose “natural” birthing methods do so with lots of knowledge and supportive networks of midwives, dulas, and hippies.  Wander Cat didn’t need any support, or coaching, or birthing beds… she just did it.  God’s creation knows how to take care of business.

Those were the big observations.  There were other cool things too… the way the tiny paws already had claws… the perfectly formed little ears… the way the boys responded tenderly and excitedly at the new baby kitties…

It was simply an amazing day.  Isn’t life amazing!

As a kid in southern California, I took pride in my soccer uniform, my baseball uniform, and even my green and white 4-H uniform. Apparently in California, you still have to wear these ridiculous outfits to show your livestock project in 4-H. Let’s make kids get dressed up in shiny white clothes right before they have to lead their “clean” show animals into a ring!  Great idea.  I think Clorox-funded the whole thing. It’s no surprise that there are surprisingly few images of these 4-H uniforms on the internet.   But I digress.

They will change clothes the minute they are out of the show ring.

In addition to the 4-H uniform, there was another uniform that I didn’t understand at all: the Boy Scout uniform.  As a grade school kid, I could not comprehend why you should have to dress up in an outfit with a scarf and patches to go camping.  It made no sense whatsoever.  My dad and I were into sports and 4-H, not Scouts.  I was never anti-Scout, just anti-dorky-Scout-Uniform.

Until my son Brody got his Tiger Cub Scout uniform today.

That's a proud Tiger Cub

As a father, it’s awesome to see your son excited and proud. To Brody, than new uniform represented something that big kids get to do.  Something special.  Something his younger brothers are too young for.  I’ll be ordering a matching hat and shirt for myself pretty soon.

My opinion on Scout uniforms shifting from extremely lame to supremely cool got me thinking… What other things in my life have made the lame-to-cool transition as I’ve gotten older?  Specifically, what would have been a complete waste of time to me as a child or teenager, but I now find increasingly valuable and enjoyable.

Here’s what made my “Dorky-to-Cool” List:

1. Rest

2. Gardening

3. Instrumental Music

4. Silence

5. Disco and Funk Music

6. Other People’s Ideas

7. Just Relaxing With God

What makes your “dorky-to-cool” list? Leave a comment here on my FB.

1.  First Cub Scout Meeting. I haven’t seen Brody so excited in quite a while.  It’s only a matter of time before we post pictures of me and Bro in those way too cool Cub scout threads.

2.  First Server Crash that’s 100% My Fault. Yep, no one to blame but me.  I made one little change that looked good for a few minutes… then brought the internet crashing down for a whole bunch of our customers.  I owe my co-workers brownies.

3.  First Kite Flying Day of 2011. We have lots of breezy days here in Branson, so the whole crew headed out for a little stringed flight action.  FYI, the Spiderman and Iron Man kites flew way better than the Transformer kite.

4.  Read the First Several Chapters of Francis Chan’s book Crazy Love. Great book so far.  Can’t wait for the rest.

A Crazy Awesome Book

5.  First Thoughts on Firefox 4… Awesome! I had to put some geek stuff in this list.  Seems like its trying pretty hard to feel like Google’s Chrome… but that’s not a bad thing.

So you made it this far down into this post.  Let’s see who’s still reading.

What gets your attention in life? Urgent things?  Big things? Little things?  Normal things?  Awe-inspiring things?  Difficult things?

In the last week or so, I’ve begun to catch glimpses of God just around the corners, trying to get my attention.  Not in a bad, “You’re in trouble,Brad” kind of way… but more of a playful, loving, everything-or-nothing kind of way.  It’s in the sound of birds as Spring begins.  It’s in watching my pregnant cat’s belly move as the kittens inside her have karate matches.  It’s in watching my 2-and-a-half year old pull his 5-year brother down in a laughing bear hug.  It’s in seeing my wife from across the house laugh as she’s talking to a dear friend on the phone and being awe-struck by how far out of my league she is.

It’s in realizing that in 100 years, no one will know who this Brad was.  It’s in the awe of thinking about the immense size of the universe compared to my small life in this small town.  It’s in trying to wrap my brain around how an all-powerful Creator of everything, who has created billions of people, billions of stars, and gabazillions of life-forms throughout history… loves me and pursues me.

The reality of me (and you) being pursued by the most important being ever is crazy.  And that is how it’s supposed to be.

The more and more I embrace, and live, and share that crazy reality… the better and better life gets.

In honor of the 7 months of blogging void, here are 7 Big Things Since My Last Blog.

1.  I ran a half marathon on a volcano. Yep, I did it.  The way I see it, I finished at the back of the fast pack or at the front of the slow pack.  39 out of 59.  You don’t believe me?  Check out the official race results here.  Oh yeah, did I mention that the race was up and down a volcano?!

2.  Jodi and I have been married a decade.

10 Years - The Babe and the Baldy

3.  We have a cat. My apologies to our cat-allergy friends, but the cat is a good one.  A little girl in town came over the day her family was moving out of town, and with tear-filled eyes gave “Muffin” to our boys.  The name was quickly changed to Wander Cat (because she wanders around town) and she’s expecting kitties soon.  I’m confident she’ll be able to fend off any kitty-eating Sith Lord owls with her Jedi skills.

The Catawan

4.  The boys make movies. Brody and Brock have figured out how to take movies on our digital camera, and they have a blast.  Brock tends to be the camera man, and Brody is the anchorman for “FUN News.”  If we “encourage” this right, this could turn out to be daddy’s retirement fund.

Sledding Day in Branson

5.  Brody took home a first place award from the regional science fair. I don’t know who was more proud – him or me.

Brody Making Eyes With Another Award Winner

6.  Brock is a Lego maniac. Architect in the making.

Architect In Training

7.  We’re starting a worship team at church. God has put all the pieces into place, not me…  and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Section 1: The Fun and Easy Downhill. The first section of the ride was scenic and mostly downhill.  Most importantly, I wasn’t tired yet.

Section 2: Why Am I Doing This? The middle section was by far the toughest.  Not only had fatigue set in and the scenery went from quaint mountain towns to ugly mining town (everything is uglier when you’re tired), but the trail (US Highway 6) ran on the right-hand side of Interstate 70.  Having cars and trucks zip right by you at 70 miles per hour makes you feel like you’re moving at a snail’s pace… which is about the worst motivation possible at that moment.

Section 3: Driven By The Bacon Cheeseburger. Glenwood Canyon is one of the most scenic, beautiful trails in the country.  Cliffs climb thousands of feet straight up into the sky on either side of you as a huge river rolls downhill alongside you.  Guess what defined this section of the ride for me: my desire for a bacon cheeseburger with guacamole.  That’s what kept me going.  Not the beauty and majesty of the canyon… not the glory of accomplishment… but the hunger in my belly that I knew could only be satisfied at the end of the trail.

It was a truly epic ride that left me pondering…

1.  Training and proper gear are key. One third of our biking party was my triathlon-running brother-in-law on his road bike.  The other 2-thirds of this crew consisted of me and my father-in-law, Orville, on our mountain bikes.  Now, don’t get me wrong, Orville and I are not couch potatoes – I’ve been training for a half-marathon in September and Orville plays on several softball teams and works out several times a week.

My father-in-law and I were smoked by the guy with the training and the right gear.  Pushing our mountain bikes and the knobby-dirt-loving trails over miles and miles of paved trail proves to be a huge, painful task for our non-bicycle-conditioned legs.  Not so for my well-geared brother-in-law.

Which brought me to the realization that …

2.  Un-Preparedness Leads to Struggle Rather than Enjoyment. There was so much beauty and potential fun moments that I could have appreciated a whole lot more if I wasn’t struggling for two thirds of the ride.  Yes, struggle makes us stronger. But how often do we experience struggle as a result of not being prepared?

The prolonged pedaling, fatigue, and hunger also revealed that…

3. Motivation Doesn’t Have To Be Noble. There is nothing noble about hunger.  It’s the most primal and basic a need we humans have.  That was the driving force within me.  I’m a pastor that loves the outdoors.  Shouldn’t I have been motivated by the natural beauty of God’s creation that surrounded me?  Absolutely!  The problem was that my natural self had taken over.  All I wanted was to finish the ride and taste the goodness of the bacon cheeseburger with guacamole.  And y’know what… I finished and it tasted great.

So how does that ride related to life for you and me?

• Which section of the ride do you find yourself in the various parts of your life?  Your job?  Your marriage?  Your walk with God?
• Are you prepared for the ride?  Have you taken time to rest and prepare for the challenges you’re facing right now?  For you Jesus followers, have you spent time preparing yourself by resting in him and reading his word?
• Are you motivated to finish?  The motivation doesn’t have to be noble.  It just has to get you across the finish line.