#207 About Thirty Years

Last week I turned 30. I wasn't originally planning on commenting on that, but then I started thinking about my age in connection with Jesus. Luke 3:23 says, "Now Jesus himself was about thirty years old when he began his ministry." (You might notice that this is a rough description; I'm pretty sure our best estimates of the dates of Christmas and Easter as well as our understanding of the length of Jesus' ministry would place Him at 31 or 32 when His ministry starts.) Obviously, to me thirty years is a long time. It's my whole life, after all! But I think that even if I was 60 or 90, thirty years would still seem pretty long to me. Jesus waited thirty years to begin His public ministry. Think about that. With the exception of an early childhood escape to Egypt, Jesus lived an ordinary human life for a long time. Certainly this wasn't a whole life, but Jesus was a decent ways into adulthood before He really began to reveal His special identity as God's Son. For thirty years Jesus committed to identifying with us, experiencing life in this fallen world, going through our ordinary experiences of learning and growing and holding a job. For thirty years Jesus looked to all the world around Him like He was just a regular guy. I think this long period of preparation helps us trust Jesus. He didn't just show up one day as an outsider and start telling us what we needed to change. He truly became one of us. He spent years sharing our perspective and facing our struggles as well as our joys. He showed us love not only by coming to save us but also by walking alongside us. I think that makes Jesus even more wonderful.

Grace and peace,

BMH

#206 Tib 16

When I picture college life, I picture myself living in Tib 16. I lived there, just off the main stairwell of Tibstra Hall at Trinity Christian College, during my sophomore year. I had good experiences my other three years of college. I even lived with good friends those other years. But there was something magical about Tib 16. This week seems like a good time to go back ten years and revisit the glory days.

There were six of us in Tib 16: Brian Clark, Caleb Huizinga, Bryan Kunz, Ryan Lindemulder, Kyle Van Eerden, and myself. Clark, Kunz, Lindy, Kyle and I were cross country and track teammates. We'd bonded over hours and hours of shared runs, plus loads of other adventures and free time spent hanging out freshman year. We asked Caleb to complete our suite, and he was a great fit, maybe in part because he wasn't yet another runner. We got along really well that year. I think we were just a good mix. For the most part we all like to play cards and shared similar taste in movies. Different smaller groups of us had common interests in sports and music. But we all had unique things too. We studied different things, worked different jobs, had a few common friends but a fair number of different friends. And I think that made things work. We weren't all in Tib 16 super often, but very rarely was any of us there alone. We paired and grouped up in new ways and made new memories again and again. And we were close, too. I know it's a cliche, but I viewed those guys as my brothers. I still do.

A large part of our fun was doing stupid stuff. We had a shared pet hedgehog that we all very quickly grew to despise. A couple of us rescued a GIANT mirror and put it next to the door to make our suite seem bigger. We hung random artwork on the wall with "classy" frames made from duct tape and electrical tape. We found strange photos of people we didn't know and put them on display. We chipped away at privacy and personal space until we had only the barest minimum we needed left (and sometimes less than that). On top of the stupid stuff we piled on a generous helping of card games, jam sessions, pointless debates, video game marathons, plus a few heart-to-hearts. For the few friends that we shared, Tib 16 became a pretty natural gathering place, which made things even better.

Now that I'm on the brink of 30, those days just before and after my 20th birthday feel like a while ago. I'm more than happy being married to Tess, being a father to Lanie and Mia, and being a pastor. But there was something special, something I do miss about those college days. I know a lot of other people look back fondly on their college experience. Lately I've been thinking that's because of the sense of community. Now that I'm family man, my life is more isolated. We stay home more. We think a lot about getting the kids to bed on time. There's something beautiful about doing life together with other people the way we did in Tib 16. I can't go back to college, but I know I should think more about what I can do to build community. Who's up for just hanging around and maybe doing some stupid stuff now and again?

Grace and peace,

BMH

#205 Ballin'

Tess and I bought Lanie one of those plastic, adjustable basketball hoops for her 4th birthday. It seems to be a pretty great gift. I've learned a couple lessons about basketball and my family so far.

First, Mia, who just celebrated her 1st birthday, has an absolute blast rolling the ball back and forth. I get her to sit up with her legs in a "V" and then roll the ball right up to her tummy. She giggles like the best thing in the world has just happened before eventually pushing the ball back to me so I can do it again. It's a simple game, but it's highly effective.

Second, Lanie thinks basketball is a contact sport. I told her it's her job to stop me from scoring. Her interpretation of that involves jumping on my back and trying to pin me to the ground. She doesn't hesitate to run right into me. And if she gets her hands the ball, she doesn't let go. Our games are pretty low-scoring affairs. It's hard to even get a decent shot off when we spend most of time wrestling over the ball. But Lanie apparently lives by one simple rule: No blood, no foul. It's good thing she only weighs about forty pounds. Otherwise I'd be in big trouble.

Grace and peace,

BMH

#204 It's Like Wow!

I love nature documentaries, such as Planet Earth. I find great joy in learning about the colorful and crazy creatures that populate our planet. I marvel at the incredibly detailed images and action-packed sequences that these camerapeople are able to capture. I've received a new miniseries each year at Christmas for almost a decade now, but I'm still captivated every time I watch, even if I've seen it all before.

Last night Tess and I tried something new. We put in the first disc of Blue Planet II and sat down to watch with Lanie. Lanie, too, was mesmerized by all the different animals and their amazing skills. She also had lots of questions about the name of each new creature—dolphin, shark, whale, fish (too many different kinds for me to remember their species), walrus, polar bear—and what they were trying to do. Sometimes we were able to answer Lanie's questions after listening to another minute of narration; sometimes we still weren't sure what we were watching. Experiencing the documentary through Lanie's eyes was a great experience. Too often I feel like I need to have all the answers or understand everything. This is a beautiful world God has made, and it's far more complex and fantastic than I would ever imagine. Sometimes all that's needed is to sit back in awe and wonder.

Grace and peace,

BMH