Home

It was a beautiful start to the day… I got up at 6:30 a.m. (which is sleeping in for me) and took a great 5.5 mile walk. Many on our church staff are here in Kansas City for a ministry conference. I took advantage of the beautiful surroundings and walked around the Plaza area and along the waterway. I took pictures as I went and uploaded a few to my twitter feed.

About a mile into the walk, I saw something that got my attention. Under the light of the rising sun, I saw three people asleep under the pillars of a bridge (pic above). I snapped a picture, then immediately began praying for them. I thought about those 3 individuals and wondered how they ended up there. I’m probably safe to say that 20 years ago, they never dreamed they’d be sleeping under that bridge in Kansas City on April 30, 2008. Where had they come from and what circumstances or choices had gotten them to this place?

God is chipping away at my heart on practically a daily basis lately. I’m becoming more compassionate. More willing to offer grace - often a difficult task for someone with my type of wiring. I prayed for those people under the bridge - that God would invade their lives on all sides. Then I wondered how I could help. They were across the water and I couldn’t readily access them. Giving money may help or hurt depending on what they bought with it.

As I prayed for those people, I was reminded of our current situation. We’re about to close on a house. We stepped out in faith to move to Fort Smith and work for a church. A huge change for our lives, our income and much more. So far my job has been rewarding but very challenging. This first 8 months have brought simplicity and much frustration. What is God trying to teach me? We’re settling down and have decided to plant some roots. I don’t think we’ve done that in our nearly 10 years of marriage and I definitely never did it before I married Jill.

We’re diving in and getting a house. While nothing is totally permanent, buying our 4th home and expecting to stay in it for more than 2 years is a HUGE deal. We waited patiently, living in an apartment all this time, paying extra for 2 storage units. We wanted something close to the church and the boys’ school (walking distance close). It’s on a cul de sac and in just the perfect location. It has lots of what we wanted, but needs lots of work like paint in every room and updating the living room quite a bit. The backyard is incredible. It’s like a garden retreat complete with covered porch and koi pond. It’s beautiful and scary to make this step. But we want a home. Not just a structure on a slab of concrete that we park our cars in front of, but a place to live. A place for life to take place. Home.

We all long for home… the ultimate one being heaven. It seems that our culture is losing the value and meaning of “home”. Everything is too fast and disjointed. The boys are in t-ball and they have home plate. People that go to church, typically have a “home” church. Home is something I’ve been looking forward to cultivating. We’re very excited about this great opportunity and blessing to put down roots and let them grow deep. We’re ready for home. What does home mean to you?

I’m participating in Watercooler Wednesdays
My walkscore number was 32 out of 100.

I Love My Wife

Being the bulletin architect among many other duties here at church, I stay a few weeks ahead. Always looking to what’s next so others will be informed about upcoming events. I’ve been in Mother’s Day mode for the last few weeks and was thinking on my walk this morning about my Wife, Mother, Mother-In-Law and Grandmother. They are all incredibly strong women. In their own ways they have all taught me valuable things.

Jill, my beautiful wife, has been an amazing addition to my life. I would be a totally different person (probably not for the good) if it weren’t for her. She gave birth to two incredible boys - AMAZINGLY, WITH NO DRUGS! She’s tough, smart, intuitive and loving. I fear that too often I neglect her because I’m busy trying to give her all I can. Truth be told, she mostly just wants me. That’s hard to take and believe and understand. Who in their right mind would just want me? God does. Jill does. My boys do. I guess there’s at least a short list who like having me around.

I feel so incapable sometimes. My goals are ambitious. I’ll be 40 in about 6 months and I was “supposed to be a millionaire” by the time I’m 40. What happened? Life. Bad choices. Good choices. More life. That’s what happened. I wouldn’t trade it though. Life. It has been good, even when it felt bad. I’ve learned, I’ve grown. I’m a better guy now than I ever have been. And if I live to be at least 100, a goal of mine, then I still have a little more than 60 years to go.

I love my wife because she loves me. Not because I’m perfect, because I’m not. She loves me because she sees me with a different lens. I may never view myself the way she does, but I know she’s genuinely in love with me. How many people our ages can say that today? I’m blessed. I’m fortunate. I am loved.

Jill is gracious, long-suffering, kind, gentle, loving… I think this list sounds familiar. On my ‘Big Question’ widget from IDEO/TED yesterday, it asked: “How will you make your next interaction more authentic?” What a big question! I’m trying to be mindful of that in my daily interactions now. Being authentic. That’s what Jill is… authentic. That’s who and what I’m drawn to… authenticity. I’ve experienced too much of the fake.

I love my wife and didn’t want to wait for Mother’s Day to tell her. She is an incredible, enduring woman. God knew that was just who I needed as my partner for life. Charm is deceptive and beauty fades. Jill loves God and me. Did I mention that I love my wife?

Grampa - HC Ballard

It was a year ago today that I got a phone call from my mom. She was in tears. My Grampa had just passed away. I felt an incredibly sinking, sick feeling immediately come over me. How could this happen? No one close to me has ever died. I wasn’t ready for this news. I was sitting at my desk at work in Ada, OK. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on what mom was saying to me. She was upset and wanted me to let my brother and sister know about Grampa. One of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do was let my brother and sister know that Grampa was gone from this world. He and Grandmother had been such a big part of our lives. How was I going to do this?

I decided to look for Becky, my sister, first. She was wrapping up the day at the elementary school where she teaches. I had never been there, so everything was new. It all seemed so unreal, unnatural. As I walked through the door of the school, teachers began asking who I was, etc. I finally put a few words together to let them know who I was and who I was looking for. Shock was setting in now.

I waited for her in her room. As she rounded the corner, she could tell something was wrong. I just told her Grampa was gone. Her eyes immediately welled up with tears and we held each other for a very long time. As I stood there hugging my sister, I consciously determined that I would remember that moment. I looked around at the walls, the halls and really savored the moment. Sad as it was, I wanted to keep a good remembrance of it. I then tried calling my brother a few times but couldn’t reach him. I have no idea exactly what happened after that, but I headed home to get my family and go to my parent’s house in Quinton, OK. I think before I left, I finally reached my brother, Stephen, as he was pulling up to attend a class at OU. I really didn’t want to give him the news on the phone, but had to tell him.

Since that time, I’ve been becoming a different person. Depressed a little? Mabye. Sad? Definitely. Determined to live life to the fullest? Positively.

My Grampa taught me to play the guitar when I was five years old. He was fascinated with recording and with the limited knowledge and equipment, he managed to record some great songs on his old cassette tape recorder. As we went through the house to find things, I found a few tapes. One was even out in his old suburban truck and had been for no telling how long. I’m amazed it hadn’t been ruined by the sun and humidity. I took those tapes and transferred them to a CD, then to digital. While they aren’t the best quality, they are priceless to me. He recorded us singing and talking together when I was 5 years old. It is so cool to hear myself as a kid and to hear him talking and singing with me… having lots of fun with his first grandchild.

I really miss him. I miss the way things used to be when my grandparents were much younger and I would stay at their house all summer. Much of who I am, musically and otherwise, is a result of how and what they poured into my life. I’m old-fashioned, but love what’s next all at the same time.

On my tumblelog (http://www.okjedi.com ) I’ve added one of his favorite songs, Too Much To Gain, To Lose. He was a simple man, Navy veteran and lifelong Barber. He taught me a lot of what I know and how to be who I am. I’m so proud I knew him and got to share so much of life with him.

The last few weeks of his life, I believe God prompted me to go visit. I would take my guitar and play and sing. He really seemed to like Matt Redman’s Blessed Be Your Name and Still Amazed by Bent Tree Bible Fellowship. I’m so glad I took the time out of my crazybusy life and made the effort to drive to see him a few last times. No regrets. Just sorrow. He’s better off. My boys believe Jesus had a special guitar waiting for him when he stepped into everlasting joy and peace. I think he’s probably joining with the angels, and singing to the creator of all good things. The One he sang so frequently about. The One he loved so much.

One year doesn’t heal the sadness and loneliness, but it does add perspective. He lived for Jesus. I want to do the same thing. I miss you Grampa. Thank you for everything.