We were just finishing up a glorious Easter supper when we all said, “Do you feel that?”
I looked to my right to see the chandelier rocking back and forth. It was about that time when Kristen and I both realized we were having an earthquake.
It wasn’t violent. Our house swayed back and forth. It literally felt like we were on a ship, rocking back and forth in the waves. And it lasted a while.
This was our first real earthquake experience since living in San Diego. For our kids, it was the first one they felt.
Paul– having finished supper and roaming the house in boredom, rode out the earthquake laying on our bed. He thought it was a blast. Megan, slightly more logical, grabbed her stuffed bunny and went outside. Paul giggled and Megan was freaked out.
Twitter lit on fire. Within 2 minutes of the quake, 35,000 tweets were posted with people saying they had felt it. People up in the Los Angeles area, people in Palm Springs, people in rural California and Arizona, and people as far away as Phoenix felt it. (5 hour drive)
Scientists later confirmed that the quake was centered south of Mexicali, about 100 miles from our house, and measured 7.2.
No damage at our house. Within about 10 minutes we went back to Easter as usual.
Aftershock city! Just like when you get off of a long boat ride, it felt like the earth kept moving. Some were real aftershocks and some were our imagination.
You now have the ability to post your comment at adammclane.com onto your Facebook profile. It’s completely optional, and as you can see in the image above, if you do link your comments to your Facebook profile you’ll have the chance to control how you’d like that to look.
Over the past year or so I’ve noticed that a big chunk of the discussion for each post has happened on Facebook. That’s fantastic, but makes it hard for me to keep track of. This is an attempt to try to bridge the blog and Facebook comments together so more people can join the conversation easier.
Ready to give it a try?
To test it out, simply leave a comment on this post. When you are done click on the Facebook Connect button.
Facebook will ask you to verify that you’d like to connect, agree to that and you’re done!
From now on when you come to the blog, if you are logged into Facebook, you’ll see your Facebook badge in the upper right hand corner of my blog. When you see that, you’re already logged in and ready to leave a comment– and share the discussion with your friends!
Is this what you're after? Something tells me its not as easy as just buying it and sailing away.
Have you ever noticed that people who have reached the pinnacle,the elusive American Dream, are actually miserable?
“That’s just a Hollywood cliche.” Really? Think about your own interaction with highly successful people… I don’t think it’s a cliche. There are just as many miserable successful people as there are unsuccessful people.
Here are some elements of what we define as people who’ve achieved the American Dream:
Big lifestyle (cars, houses, travel, jewelry, boats, planes, and other stuff)
Big notoriety (everyone knows who they are in their circle of influence, people talk about who they hang with, people are jealous of stuff they do)
Big influence (the stuff that they do makes others think, act, or spend)
Big power (they get to tell a lot of people what to do, they call the shots, they are monarchy at their work)
While on the surface all of those things sound great, I think there’s a real reason why they are miserable.
They are big, powerful, and wealthy… but none of that has brought them the freedom that sent them looking for the American Dream in the first place. It’s all come with entrapments.
Big lifestyle comes with a high cost of ownership. Buying stuff is fun, paying for upkeep and maintenance results in a lot of very wealthy people being in a lot of debt. They simply have to keep working just to maintain all the crap they own. You’d think that these people could control their schedules? Nope, they have to work 14 hours per day so they can keep the illusion going.
Big notoriety comes with a high cost of inconvenience and friendship politics. Within the rich and powerful there is a complex game to be played. You can’t just be seen with “anyone,” you need to be seen with the right people. And if you get too much notoriety you can’t be seen anywhere because going places just becomes annoying. People just wanting 5 minutes so they can say they met you… that sounds like a life full of hollow relationships to me. True friendship has got to be hard to find. Accountability? Yeah, right.
Big influence is a double-edged sword. This may seem like a lot of fun on the surface, but it comes with a ton of pressure. When the words that you say, the stuff you use, and the thoughts you think effects so many people– that influence comes with unlimited scrutiny.
Big power also means big responsibility. (You’ve heard that a million times!) Sure, it’s fun to call the shots. Who doesn’t like feeling like the genie every once in a while? But big power comes with the big expectation that you’ll deliver every time. The world holds its breath for Steve Jobs to reveal his latest gadget… but all the pressure is on him to reveal something that doesn’t suck. If it sucks, it was his call and a lot of people lose their livelihood. That’s a pretty stressful place to be every day.
Sometimes when I look at the lives “rich and successful” people lead, I am repulsed. Seems more like a nightmare than a dream. That isn’t success! It’s a life of working 24 hours per day and being stressed about every relationship and decision. Yuck.
I say these things because I’m beginning to dream of a different American Dream.
If I’m honest, my American Dream has freedom at its core. (not acquiring stuff) I don’t want my stuff to own me so I want to make life simpler, not more complex. Buying stuff I can afford with cash is simple. The more I do that the more I like it. Notoriety isn’t nearly as intriguing as having truly deep relationships with a handful of friends. It is nice to be recognized for the right reasons, I can’t lie about that. But big influence? I’m working hard to have influence over my own actions! I suppose if that trickles out beyond me to my neighbors and community… cool, but I don’t dream of me speaking and an army of people doing. (Or watching a reality show about me) Really, I dream of having influence with a small number of people who also have influence in my life. Power? Only if that power leads to doing good for other people and having fun along the way. With that said, the power worth pursuing is to have enough power to truly have freedom.
The old-style American Dream just feels tired and complex. I watch TV shows about them and just feel sorry for their life. This new-style American Dream makes me smile. Simplicity leads to freedom.
Help me work this out a bit. Where does this new American Dream fall flat?
This is Paul’s favorite sing-along song, too. And I’ve completely been there… wanting to tell my son the truth that he is not, indeed, a single lady. (But if he likes it, he better put a ring on it.)
I’m forgetful. I hope people find it endearing. Who am I kidding? It’s annoying.
I never know where my keys are. I say at least 10 times a day, “Where’s my phone?” I can be so absentminded that I miss appointments, only to discover them when the person I’ve stood up calls me. That leads me to schedule things that are either close to me in proximity or meetings I can do on the phone or online. It also makes me neurotic about putting things in iCal. If I don’t write it down right away, it’s in one ear and out the other. I’d forget my own birthday if my calendar didn’t remind me. If I didn’t get billminders, I’d go to jail for never paying a single bill.
Kristen, my saintly wife, is forgiving of my absentmindedness. I hope she finds it endearing but I fear she loathes it. Let’s just hope she finds it cute.
Yesterday was a typical mistake. I lost track of my morning and suddenly realized it was 7:50. To catch my train I need to mount my bike at 8:00 to get to the trolley in time. So I’m rushing around, packing up my stuff for the commute. And trying my best to be social by having a cup of tea.
I take a few gulps of tea and look outside. It’s cold. A glance at my iGoogle homepage, which tells me the high in San Diego was going to be 63. Too cold for the shorts and t-shirt I was wearing. But riding my bike in pants is a drag, so I put my stuff down and head to my closet. Right before I went to Haiti I bought a high-end rain jacket. That will work perfect. I zip that up, put my headphones in, select the latest episode ofThe Moth, start the clock on Runkeeper, push my bike to the curb, and off I go. It’s 8:01 and I’m on my way to work. One minute late is no big deal.
I get to the SDSU trolley stop, turn off Runkeeper, and take the elevator down to the platform. Just before the train comes at 8:17, The Moth ends and I switch over to This American Life. As Ira Glass narrates a beautiful story about the downfall of the NUMMI plant in Fremont, California, I flick open the New York Times app, and catch up on the news.
Fifteen minutes later, now closing in on the Gillespie Field stop in El Cajon, I stand up and wheel my bike over to the door. I press the button, tuck my iPhone back in my pocket, and wait for the train to stop. Just as the doors open I realize… I forgot to turn on Runkeeper. I get off the train and start Runkeeper. When the GPS turns on, I hit the start button, tuck my phone in my jacket pocket, and begin my ride.
I’m lost in the story on This American Life as I huff the .75 mile up the hill to the YS offices.
Nearly to the top of the hill it dawns on me.
Where’s my backpack? I said it out loud to myself, “Dude, where’s your backpack? You idiot!”
My backpack is my constant companion. That thing has been with me on countless road trips. It’s been everywhere with me. Yet, in that moment, I suddenly realize that I’ve forgotten my friend somewhere between home and the hill. But where?
I made a u-turn and speed down the hill. The trolley is long gone, but it only makes one more stop in Santee before looping back towards Old Town. If I hustle I can make it in time. For some reason I had caught a glimpse of the Trolley number. I’m looking for train #72. That has my backpack. (And all my work stuff, including my Macbook Pro)
Annoyed at myself, I get to the trolley stop about 7 minutes after I got off. I look down at Runkeeper. Yeah, I’m done with that. No need to log this journey.
As I wait for the trolley to come back, my mind wondering if the last 2 people left on the train would take my stuff, I start to think back.
Where was my backpack? When did I last see it? I’ve forgotten a lot of stuff in my life. But never something quite so valuable. This was a lot different than leaving my keys at home, or being late for lunch with a friend, or having no idea what I did with the book I was reading on the plane.
Looking down the tracks to the east I decided to give Kristen a call. Now that I thought about it I couldn’t be certain I ever had my backpack that morning. Maybe I had just left home without it? Either she was going to find it and make fun of me or I was going to ask her to look and she’d know I left it on the train. Either way, she was the right person to call.
I call home and ask Kristen to look for it. Sure enough, it was sitting on the kitchen table, packed and ready to go.
In the rush to finish my tea, find a podcast to listen to, and put something warm on… I had forgotten my stuff on the kitchen table.
Busted. I couldn’t play it off. It was another moment where I had simply forgotten something important. I hated my absentmindedness in that moment. It’s a quirk. It’s part of who I am. But it’s not something I’m proud of.
Fortunately, Kristen had the flexibility to stop what she was doing, wake up Megan, and bring daddy’s stuff to work for him.
I huffed up the hill to work for the second time. With no meaningful way to start my day, (90% of my work is done online!) I had to admit to Amy that I was… indeed… an idiot who left his stuff at home. She laughed at me and with me. Yup, I’m that guy.
Have you noticed that a lot of Christians are exhibiting a hatred for our government?
I just don’t get it.
For those who are mad about the latest government program… (yesterday it was social security, today it is health care, tomorrow it will be something else.)
Just some friendly reminders
Anger isn’t the answer, it just make you look silly.
Agreeing with everything isn’t an option, we live in a pluralistic democratic society.
Living in denial of the situation we live in isn’t an option.
Pointing back to founding fathers of the nation is silly, they are dead.
Separating from society isn’t a biblical option.
Moving to Canada isn’t an option, they don’t want you.
What is an option?
Changing your attitude.
Being a part of the solution.
Loving your neighbor.
Caring for your neighborhood and proving it with your actions.
Being hospitable to people you don’t know.
Stop waiting for your church to start a program.
Putting the needs of others above the needs of yourself.
This Easter marks roughly two years since I turned in my Pastor Adam card and went from church staff to church attendee.(I was officially done June 1st, but it was during Easter week that the offer to come to YS came, which completely changed everything.)
In so many ways I’ve re-learned what it means to be a member of a church. God has shown me hundreds of ways in which my assumptions and desires for people in the pews were flat out wrong.
But, more importantly, the last two years has solidified a deep love and respect for the church universal as well as the church I’m a part of– Harbor Mid-City.
Here are 5 things I love about my church:
They model their bridge building strategy with their staff. When I look at the make-up of their staff– I giggle. A PCA church plant with staff from a huge spectrum of Protestantism. Liberals. Progressives. Conservatives. I jokingly remind them, “In most communities this group wouldn’t even get together to pray… and you guys are on staff together!” I love that they chose to unite around Christ and major in the majors. Let me tell you, this is rare.
They meet at Hoover High School. I’m a huge fan of our location and all the challenges it brings along. I love that we pay to rent part of a high school. I love that we bring 200 adults to a high school campus they would rather ignore. I love that there is a constant tension in the space we use for kids is also a teachers space. I love that part of our being Good News to the community is showing up and worshipping at a place, Hoover, that is so common.
The production value of the service is awesome. Seriously, one of the things I love about Harbor is just how rough the tech side of things are. You would think that I, Mr. Super Church Tech Dude, would be annoyed that every week the microphones are jacked up, the projector is crooked, and they lovingly rock PowerPoint when Media Shout, Easy Worship, or ProPresenter are so readily available. Nope. Every time something goes array in the service I just lean over to Kristen and go, “That’s awesome. I love it.” Because I know the flip side of those blemished moments is not a persons hours of hard work. I know that no one is going to get an ugly stare back at the booth. And I know it’s not going to be an hours discussion at staff meeting. Ultimately… it’s no big deal and it’s treated as such.
They love kids and show it. Most churches get this right. But I have to say that there are two places where Harbor gets this right-er than anywhere else I’ve been. Here are two things I can point to which illustrate this thought. First, early in the worship service they invite all of the kids to come to the front to join the worship band. So about 20 kids come to the front and bang on percussion instruments and dance for two worship songs before heading to kids church. Some people might think this completely ruins those songs. But I love the lesson we are teaching… these kids are a part of the congregation and we need to allow them to participate in the worship. It’s a visual way to say “children are valuable to God.” Second, I love how they handle infant baptism. (This is a theological issue I have NO IDEA where I stand on.) So, they baptize the baby and the congregation affirms their responsibility. [All very normative.] But Stephen has started this little thing which I hope he continues. He leads the parents to the center of the auditorium and invites the congregation to quietly sing “Jesus Loves Me” as a lullaby to the baby. I doubt it leaves an imprint on the baby but it certainly leaves an effect on the parents and the congregation!
They value all people. I wish this were the case in all congregations but sadly it is not. Two quick ways this plays out on Sunday. First, we are an ethnically mixed congregation. We have a Spanish-speaking pastor and an English speaking pastor. Each language group is given equal value. (Not time) The only thing we separate for is the message. (Because translating that would be exhausting!) But for the majority of the service we have both groups together and it makes for a fun cornucopia. Second, we work hard to put everyone on an equal playing field socio-economically. El Cajon Blvd, where the church meets, is really a dividing line between the have-nots to the south and the have-alots to the north. There is a conscious effort to blur those lines on Sunday morning. I don’t have any idea how they pull it off… but it’s something I love about my church.
Those are some things I love about my congregation. What are things you love about yours?
