• Naming Conventions: Cultural and Family Considerations for Naming a Child

    Naming a child is a big deal. Especially since there is a high likelihood they will be stuck with it the rest of their lives. In an ideal situation a person’s name is one of the top three or four things that they build their lifelong identity around. (Gender, faith, culture, to name a few others.)

    But selecting a name isn’t just about the identity of the child will take on for themselves. It’s also about a few other things…

    • Since the parents chose, the name reflects the parents initially as much as the child indefinitely.
    • The child’s name isn’t alone as it is in pairing with its siblings and other members of the family. They need to make some sense as a group of names.
    • The child’s name has to fit in culturally with it’s peers. Picking a name that is too popular could result in them not having a distinct name. Picking a name that is too obscure could lead to no one knowing what planet you came from!
    • Some names generate stigma just because of other famous people by that name. Some names you say and others automatically associate that name with a serial killer or a rock star.
    • Naming of a child can be a wonderful way to honor a person.
    • Within your friendships you need to make sure you aren’t naming your child someone else’s “dream name.“
    • As a parent, you’ll be uttering this name for the rest of your life. So it needs to be something you like saying.

    Here’s how we picked our first two children’s names:

    Megan Elisabeth – The first Christmas that Kristen and I were dating I bought her a pearl ring that meant a lot to us. Though we only knew one another for 6 months we knew we’d be together for a lifetime. The ring had three tiny pearls. One for each child we’d hope to one day have. (Crazy, I know considering we always wanted three, stopped after two, and then are now having the third.) So as we debated what to name our first child, it kind of all got settled in the symbolism of the name Megan. Greek for pearl. Then I made an executive decision and told Kristen I wanted Megan’s middle name to be Elisabeth, after her. My hope is that one day Megan will grow up to be a woman of God like her mom.

    Paul Garret- This name came long before we were married. Paul & Garret are the patriarchs of both of our families and we wanted to honor them by naming our first son after them. Paul McLane was a man I never met as he passed away a few years before I was born. But I grew up under the legend of Paul McLane. It was clear throughout my childhood that my grandfather was the person who helped hold the whole thing together… and when he passed the whole thing just kind of started spinning out of control. I want my son to be the kind of guy that holds things together. Garret is Kristen’s grandfather. When we met I instantly liked him. I man of few words and great wisdom. To illustrate this man’s heart fast-forward to his final impact. Nearly 1000 people came to visit Garret (Barney, as everyone knew him) at his funeral. And as I stood by and listened to stories they all had the same thread. “You probably don’t know me, but your husband helped me when I was in trouble. He leant me some money to pay my rent.” (Or drove them to the doctor, or visited them when they were sick, or prayed for them when they came to the church after hours and he was gardening.) Oh, that my son would be like his grandfather… quietly serving the Kingdom of God.

    So, when it came to the third child… we were at a loss.

    We had all of this in our minds. And we struggled for nearly six months to find just the right one. Weighing all of this together takes something that seems so infinite and narrows the options. Literally, we talked about it from the day we found out we were expecting #3 until about 2 weeks ago. We tried a lot of things out, thought about it, sat on it, then kicked it to the curb.

    But we’ve finally landed on a names we both love. Weighing in the family considerations, cultural considerations, and even historical considerations. (My family has been in the United States for a long, long time!) We can’t wait to reveal the name. But, of course, we are waiting until he’s born.

    Addendum #1

    From 1995 – 2002 I worked for BlueCross BlueShielf of Illinois creating tens of millions (no exaggeration) of ID cards. In that, I noticed some crazy naming conventions which have totally shaped how we name our children. Here’s the most obvious one.

    The weird name rule: (About 90% of the time, this is true) If a couple has two normal names they are bound to name their first child something abnormal. But if one of the two of them has an abnormal name, their first child’s name will be normal.

    Example #1: Tom and Susan… will name their first child Zoe.

    Example #2: Tom and Zoe… will name their first child Susan.

    Addendum #2

    If you are a web nerd like me, it’s also important that the child’s domain name be available.

  • An Ode to the Cranberry, 2010

    Photo by rjzii via Flickr (Creative Commons)

    Discovered in 1427 by Cardinal Joseph Cran, the cranberry is useful for many things. It is delicious. It is tasty. It is tart. It is good mixed with various other fruits. It floats. It is from heaven. It’s amazing canned shape invites my gobbling. It’s juice keeps away urinary track infections.

    Cranberries are magical.

    More fun facts about cranberries:

    • Cranberry and brain share the same latin root word, cranium. The Romans believed the cranberries tart flavor stimulated the brain.
    • The cranberry has medicinal values. It cures everything from a hangover to gout.
    • Cranberry bogs are protected in Vermont. It is unlawful to visit one without a permit.
    • There is a Cranberry Festival in Iowa in which the Cranberry queen is carried on a litter as citizens stuff cranberries in their cheeks like a hamster.
    • In secret ceremonies, sacrifices are made to the cranberry god in Nova Scotia.
    • It’s a little known fact that the color red in a Canadian Mounties uniform comes from the die of a cranberry.
    • There is even a cult band funded by profits from farmers, The Cranberries.
    • In 2002, George W. Bush invaded Prince Edward Island for the secret stash of the giant cranberry DNA. It’s trade name is nukler.
    • The french word for cranberry is Ponce de León. When boiled, the cranberry releases essential oils originally flowing from the fountain of youth.
    • When John F. Kennedy declared he was a jelly donut in Berlin, the jelly inside his donut was cranberry flavored.
    • At the first Thanksgiving in 1619, the leaf of cranberry trees was rolled and smoked.
    • The female cranberry is separated from the male cranberry in the processing plant. Males are bagged and served fresh. Females are jellied and canned. Left together they would multiply their goodness and overtake the world.
    • Starved for delicious fresh cranberry– Christopher Columbus discovered America. A state secret of Spain, it was recently revealed  that the Columbus party actually had 4 boats. The Nina, the Pinta, the Santa Maria, and the Cranberry.
    • The red in the United States flag… symbolic of the ancient order of the cranberry… 1749. (Betsy Ross was secretary of the order at the time)
    • It is against the law to serve turkey on Thanksgiving without cranberry sauce in the city of Cleveland, Ohio.
    • Up until 1983, cranberries were acceptable currency in Maine.

    Oh cranberries… you are welcome in my home all the time. But especially in November and December.

    Do you know more fun facts about cranberries?

    Ode to Cranberry, 2009

  • Notre Dame in New York

    I was happy to catch some of the game last Saturday. A big win for Notre Dame. And a great way to bring the game to a core group of awesome fans in the city that never sleeps.

  • Random Acts of Culture

    OK, so this is clearly a staged deal and not a great flash mob. Two things cue you off. 1. The buttons. 2. There have never been that many people in a Macy’s, ever.

    That said, it’s pretty awesome. That’s taking the good news to the people my friends.

    I’d like to see them pull a random act of culture off at an Eagles game.

    p.s. Big ups to them for great marketing. 6 million views on YouTube. Well played.

  • Your Ministry of Discouragement

    Having just spent a week with Christian leaders I came home with a raw heart.

    Surely, I came home tired.

    But I also came home perplexed by our unique ability to discourage one another.

    Speaker shoes

    When I went to my first convention in 2002– the whole thing was weird for me. It all seemed larger than life. The speakers, bands, seminar leaders, and myriad of volunteers all seemed bulletproof. I’d never seen anything like it and…

    They are not. They are no different than you or I.

    Now that I sit in different rooms during NYWC I see the event through their eyes as much as the eyes of those who have driven from all over the country to attend.

    Imagine their perspective. For most, coming to convention is the highlight of their year. They are eager to present. But they are also eager to reconnect with lifelong compatriots, catch a friends seminar, or even to just be with people who remind them that they aren’t crazy. For many first-time speakers and artists it is actually an affirmation of years of hard work to be invited to speak. It’s a really big deal.

    And so they do their thing. (Teach, lead worship, or even perform their talent) They are all the way into it. Their heart is there. They’ve given themselves to countless hours of preparation. They bought a new shirt. They got their nails done. And for a good chunk of them this is the largest audience they’ve ever spoken to. They are feeling big time because it’s one of the few places in youth ministry where we gather to acknowledge big time people.

    And when they complete their task– most are both eager for feedback and too raw to receive feedback constructively. That’s why we’ve created spaces for them to just come and relax. For most, their hearts are just too raw and they need some time before and after.

    This really isn’t any different than when I’ve taught or preached. (Thankfully, I’ve never been in a band!) You leave the platform feeling exposed, you seek out feedback, you want to know that what you did or said moved people or helped somehow or was just good and not bad.

    It’s a raw state that anyone who speaks or performs experiences.

    Inevitably, as folks bump into me, they want to know what people were saying online while they presented. If I’m on my A-game, I’ll have selected and saved a few tweets to share. I’m careful to show them things that will affirm. But folks are savvy and they know that if I’m showing them 1-2 things that there are likely a lot more. So when they ask, I suck at lying, so we look at them all.

    And it’s depressing. You can feel the shoulders slump as they are shown a mirror they weren’t quite ready to look into.

    There are lots of tweets quoting people. Awesome.

    There are lots of tweets about how people feel as a person is singing or speaking. Awesome.

    And there are lots of tweets about flippant things as people try to say something smart so that they can get re-tweeted. Not awesome.

    It’s not awesome. It hurts. It sticks. And it bitters the entire experience. No one wants to read that someone thinks their hairstyle sucks. Or the color of their shirt is wrong for the color of their skin. Or that they look kind of like a celebrity.

    It’s as if we get so caught up trying to out smart-aleck one another that we forget that these are real people who will likely read about themselves on Twitter, or Facebook, or Google. Yeah, when you @reply a person on Twitter it is very likely they are going to see it! Geez, you think?

    That’s the problem. We don’t think. We forget that people are not objects. We forget that this is real life. And we forget that we are all brothers and sisters in Christ.

    This isn’t about convention, it’s about you

    In the same breathe lets acknowledge some truth. Anyone who speaks at convention knows that criticism, even over silly things, is part of the game. It shouldn’t be but it is. And they all get over it.

    And just like when a student comes into our office and rips on us for 20 minutes… we all know that flippant negative remarks aren’t about us. They tend to be about what’s in the heart of the critic rather than style of the critiqued clothing.

    Think about this for half a second: Who called you to a ministry of discouragement?

    Planks

    As I was thinking about this yesterday, I wondered how many people would like the same treatment this week? How would they like it if they taught a Bible lesson on Wednesday night in full knowledge that while they were sharing all of their pupils were having a dialog about their words and trying to one-up one another on Twitter or Facebook.

    What would it be like to teach on Sunday morning, have people shake your hand as they left, and then read that there was a rowdy debate about whether or not you’ve gained some weight.

    You would feel horrible. You would cry out to God, “Why have you called me to minister to these people? Why do I deserve this? I share the message you’ve laid on my heart and all they care about is where I bought my shoes!”

    And yet we do it all the time. Not just at events like NYWC, we do it all the time… all the time! We post some smarty-pants comment about a person not knowing or caring that this same person is going to see our tweet, click on our profile, and think… “Youth pastor at First Baptist, eh? What a jerk!”

    My plank is just as big and as weighty as anyone else. But being common doesn’t make something correct.

    You are entitled to your opinion

    I think there is an important distinction to mention here. There is a distinction to be made between a flippant remark, something sarcastic or a dagger about someone’s attire, and comments made about content. I’ve never known a person to not appreciate feedback on content. Even if it’s in strong opposition to what’s been presented. That’s on-topic and relevant. And I’ve also witnessed some incredible dialog as the result of comments made on content.

    On top of that, when you pay to attend something you feel empowered to judge it. You watch television for free and when something isn’t to your liking you just change the channel and get over it. But when you pay to see a movie that you don’t like and you feel a responsibility to tell other people.

    I get that. And I affirm that. You’re entitled to like or not like something. But you aren’t at liberty to tear down for the sake of making yourself look good. It is one thing to not like a movie. It’s an entirely different thing to make fun of someone who came to encourage you.

    Change is needed

    As I sat and thought about this phenomenon while coming home yesterday, I just couldn’t get two things out my mind.

    First, a passage of Scripture I memorized long ago.

    Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God’s holy people. Nor should there be obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather thanksgiving. For of this you can be sure: No immoral, impure or greedy person—such a person is an idolater—has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God. Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of such things God’s wrath comes on those who are disobedient. Therefore do not be partners with them. Ephesians 5:1-7

    Second, a song we sing with children.

    O be careful little mouth what you say

    O be careful little mouth what you say

    There’s a Father up above

    And He’s looking down in love

    So, be careful little mouth what you say

    O, that we would be a people known for lifting people up instead of tearing them down.

  • One Sexy Beast

    Man, I was smoking hot back in the day. (circa 1991-1992) Just as humble as today just twice as young.

    Backstory to the picture above:

    Over the last few months I’ve gotten reconnected with Joanne via Facebook. (pictured above) We went to First Pres in Mishawaka together back in elementary, middle, and some of high school. And we also shared a common bond of the same church camp each summer.

    As these things are prone to happen… we lost track of one another. And, as Facebook is so good at doing, we have gotten to catch up. At one point it even looked like we were even going to be able to meet-up in Port-au-Prince this summer. We were both looking forward to reliving some old silliness from a mission trip we did to Tennessee. (I remember little else of that trip than yelling “he haw!” at people passing in cars and the drive to/from Appalachia.)

    Last week Joanne sent me this picture. It cracked me up. First, it cracked me up because I had no idea why we were in this picture together. (Apparently, we went to a dance together in 10th grade. I don’t think we ever “went out” so we must have gone as friends.) Second, it cracked me up because I was so self-conscious in high school, looking back at my former self, I had nothing to be self-conscious about. Third, it cracked me because of how stinking young we were!

    Do you have an old picture from a high school dance? If so, post it and share the link.

  • Wanted: Dream Chasers

    Photo by Laura Burlton via Flickr (Creative Commons)

    My favorite story in the Bible, hands down, is that of Joseph. I’ve read Genesis 37-50 about 100 times. It never gets old!

    From the first reading of the story until today, I’ve always wanted to be like Joseph. Dream on, dreamer!

    Take it from this dreamer… dreams do come true.

    May God grant you the opportunity to chase dreams like I’ve been fortunate to chase dreams.

    Just once in your life… it’s my prayer that you wake up in a cold sweat with an idea that won’t let you go. And you realize that in order to shake the dream, you need to chase it. So, not knowing how else to get rid of it, you set out to fulfill it.

    Maybe that dream takes a day or a week or a month? (Like building a treehouse for your kids or running in a 5k or recording a song.)

    Or maybe that dream takes years until you see real progress?

    Both timeframes bear the same satisfaction.

    Here’s my encouragement today:

    Just chase. Be a dreamer. Get after it. Geek out on it. Own it to the point where people call you Joseph. Invest yourself to the point that your friends mock you like they mocked Noah. Enjoy the satisfaction of getting fired for dreaming too much.

    The results will come. And seeing things happen in your life will give you a glimpse of something heavenly. As you chase dreams you’ll see God do things you’d never thought possible.

    The world is full of perfectly ordinary people like you or I doing extraordinary things.

    They are dreamers. And membership in the tribe of dreamers is open on only one prerequisite.

    God has dreams for you more wild than you could ever imagine.

    Since before you were born, before your fertilized egg implanted in the womb of your mother, before she peed on a stick and knew you even existed… God knew who you’d be and what kind of person you could become! Could is the operative word. It is the opportunity placed before you if only you’ll act on the impulse to chase recklessly.

    Contrary to the pessimists in your life chasing dreams is not child’s play.

    The world needs more dreamers. Not fewer. We have big problems that need big dreams to fix.

    Chasing dreams is horribly inefficient. It takes time to make the impossible possible.

    The bottom line is simple:

    Your dreams will never be fulfilled until you do something with them. A dream is just a dream until you do something with it.

    Maybe today is the day you start?

    I’m fulfilling mine. Are you fulfilling yours?

    No more carpe mañana.

  • Open to Change?

    My byline is: “Crazy enough to change the world.”

    Mutability. Change. Delta.

    The concept of change is the fulcrum of the Gospel message.

    Am I willing to look at myself in the mirror, accept who I am, (not) and commit to the hard work of change?

    The Gospel message is about change. Changed hearts. Changed lives. Changed motivations. Changed intentions. Changed directions.

    Without change– a life with Jesus becomes good information at best and good entertainment at worst.

    Without change– the Gospel is devoid of value.

    God changed the course of human history when He sent Jesus to die on a cross. He changed how he engaged humanity so you could change your life.

    To anthropomorphize it, God changed in the hope that we would change.

    Accepting Jesus is accepting that you need to change.

    But I wonder how many people are actually open to change in their lives?

    Am I open to change?

    Are you?

    Is change a part of your life? Or do you just talk about it, asking others to change, but you are too good for that?

    Or are you afraid to appear weak, displaying a changed heart?

    If my byline is “Crazy enough to change the world” that implies that I’m always on the lookout for people, organizations, groups who are willing to change.

    Sadly, among Jesus followers, few seem open to change.

    They refuse to accept who they can become, thus refuse to change.

    Pride sets in, change becomes impossible, and we become “about the Gospel” without living into the Gospel.

    Christian organizations would rather go out-of-business, accepting failure, than change.

    Churches would rather reach a decreasing congregation in an increasing population than change.

    This deeply saddens me.

    Oh, that we might be a people changed by the Gospel.

  • Garden Birds

    As much as we like gardening, we also love the ancillary things that a garden attracts. One of those things is our hummingbirds.

    There are three birds living in a nearby tree. The male sits on his perch most of the day, observing the garden.

    Besides watching them feed from my morning writing spot– I adore watching them swoop in when I turn the sprinklers on. As they fly in for a drink their lightning-wings spray water in a thousand directions.

    It makes me giggle every time. How awesome is nature?

    Pests?

    I’m sure some gardeners have birds who are pests. Maybe eating the crops or digging where they aren’t supposed to. I guess we avoid all of that by having a very prolific hunting cat. Lovely seems to keep all unwanted critters at bay.

  • Living la vida simple

    I think Ricky Martin had it wrong. While living la vida loca (the crazy life) looks attractive to the bored, I prefer to set my sights on living la vida simple. (the simple life)

    As crazy as things seem, feel, or appear– I do live a pretty simple life. A life that is satisfying in its simple pleasures.

    Weekends give glimpses into these pleasures.

    • Near agenda-less. There are things to do, but it’s far from the frantic pace of Monday – Friday.
    • Sleeping in. (That means until 6:30, pretty lame, but that’s as late as I can sleep.)
    • Going to the farmers market and discovering new smells and flavors. (Our kids suddenly love pomegranates)
    • Sharing the intimacy of talking about nothing with Kristen over a cup of tea.
    • Watering, weeding, and pruning in the garden.
    • Spending way too much time observing your cat hunting or the hummingbirds feeding.
    • Lounging in our pajamas well past 9 am.
    • Staying up late to watch a movie.
    • Walking around Costco to pick up a couple things, but mostly to score samples.
    • Taking the dog for a walk.
    • Cutting the grass. (Which feels weird to do in November, but our grass just started growing.)
    • Debating when the citrus will ripen so we can start gorging on mandarins.
    • Wrestling, chasing, and teasing the kids.

    It’s funny, isn’t it?

    Ironic to be exact.

    I struggle to find satisfaction even in these things which are completely satisfying in and of themselves.

    And I remind myself:

    Life isn’t perfect. Compare the simplicity of these things against the weight of the life I deserve.

    Now things start to feel perfectly satisfactory to me.