Saturday Shots

We had our monthly families event for Church this morning. We had Music with James come and play for us (the kids especially). Then the Moms and Dads looked at these verses (thats a pdf Download) in a Bible Study exploring the dynamics of our love for God. Then after that we went to a play ground with our friends. And tomorrow, we are looking at Romans 5:1-11. Can't wait. Thats our Saturday.

Foot Landing...

My folks turned up to NYC on Thursday to help with the arrival of the newborn (Lord willing).

On Friday, a good buddy of mine invites them to a baseball game: Yankees V Seattle.

Yankees Stadium.
Front Row.
Behind First Base.

Foot Landers.

:)

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Pic taken on an iPhone.

January 4, 1998.

10 years ago tomorrow I met my wife.

People sometimes ask me how we met. Here is our story: we met at the wedding of her sister to my friend.

I had not dated anyone in 8 years for a number of reasons: mostly fear. Although I had never thought of myself as remaining permanently single, I did think of singleness as a genuine option for me. Until January 4, 1998.

I had been at Theological College (seminary) at Moore in Sydney from '95-97 with two Americans: Dave (sent from Atlanta, GA) and Carey (from Wheaton, IL). We had all become very good friends. During my last year at College, Dave announced his engagement to his American girlfriend Robin. Robin and Dave were looking to get married in Georgia on January 17, 1998. I couldn't make it on that day (I had just begun full-time Youth Ministry at Christ Church St Ives and needed to be in Sydney on that day). But I could make it on January 10. But not January 17.

They couldn't get a reception venue for January 17, so they changed the date to January 10. I went out that afternoon and bought me a ticket to the United States. Crazy, isn't it, how one decision (that you may not have even made) can change your whole life?

At Carey's invitation, I flew into Green Bay, Wisconsin for Christmas at the vacation home of his parent's Kent and Barbara Hughes'. Door County; log cabin; Christmas in winter; wonderful hospitality; skeet shooting. Loved every minute of it.

I met up with my friend Ed Springer in Wheaton, Chicago, and we traveled to New York City and then to Washington DC. Ed and I were at Times Square on New Year's Eve in 1997. (So this week is also 10 years since I visited NYC for the first time).

We flew into Atlanta on the morning of January 4, 1998 for the wedding preparation.

That morning, I met the bride's sister. Her name was Laurel. Laurel came in from DC where she was a post-graduate student. Like us, she came in a week before the wedding to support the bride and groom. Ed and I stayed in the Reames' basement. Because there was not much to do, Laurel become our Atlanta tour guide.

So we got to talking...

Ed asked me that week what I thought of Laurel. I told him at the time that I thought I could marry her. It took over two years, but we got there.

Met Atlanta, January 4, 1998. Married Atlanta, May 14, 2000. Nice.

Thank God.

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Cures for Jet Lag??

What are the cures for Jet-Lag?

We've had a great time in Sydney. I came out for the Engage conference, and then had a great time with family and friends. We are flying out and, God willing, will be in NYC on Saturday. We are itching to see everyone at church on Sunday.

But, how to get over Jet-Lag?

I have the ONLY cure.

See the comments.

In the meantime, a pictorial memoir...

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Armchair Sports for a Toddler

In light of the current Rugby World Cup comes this gem:

The Boy to our friend Eric:
"Eric, I want you to throw me like a rugby ball.

Eric:
"Umm, I don't think your parents would like me to throw you like a rugby ball."

The Boy:
"No, they WOULD like you to throw me like a rugby ball.

[pause]

Throw me like a rugby ball, Eric."

_________________________

Wife and kids coming back today ...

Laurel went last week with The Boy and The Girl to South Carolina for a reunion of her buddies from her College Days. She had a great time, which is excellent. But I miss them.

So with the joy and anticipation of their imminent return from The Carolinas, I offer you this classic:

Armchair Philosophy for a Toddler

Armchair Philosophy for a Toddler

The Boy: When I grow up, I want to be a real man.
Mom: That's good.
The Boy: And when you grow down, you can be a baby.
Mom: OK.

Is the logic vaild?

Why we chose to have our children baptised...

I've been reading the recent online baptism debate, summed here. I really appreciate the grace displayed and vigor of the debate. Here is the basic reason that we had our two children baptised (there are more reasons than this, for the record).

We teach our two toddlers:

• to walk,
• to eat,
• and to love Jesus.

And as they grow older, they are learning to walk, and to eat and to love Jesus. And we expect that they will both keep walking and eating and loving Jesus.

Of course, like anyone at any age, they could in the future choose to stop walking, to stop eating or to stop loving Jesus. That will be their choice. But it will be opting out, rather than opting in.

At the moment, he's all in! Hence, his Baptism (not pictured here) ---

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Give The Boy some Hope...

We are teaching The Boy and The Girl to swim at the local city pool. So he's kickin' and splashin' and 'talking to the fish' (blowing bubbles underwater).

It's fun for the summer.

But here is the thing: I tend to think that they have little genetic hope of being good swimmers. Both their mother and I are aquatically-challenged. (Laurel, by the way, says I should speak for myself.) However, it would be fair to say: Winrams, we ain't! (Let the reader understand).

So here is what I want from you: Hope.

Is there anything that you are good at, that you most assuredly did not genetically gain from your parents? (Or maybe some gift your parents had, that you never got?)

Tell me these things are not set in DNA Stone.

________________

A Question for you...

A Question...

What is at the vortex of Perfect Weather, Sunday July 22, 2007 and Central Park, NYC?

Answer: Harry Potter.

We spent all afternoon in Central Park with a group from church yesterday and it was clear to anyone that Harry was being read by the hundreds in Central Park yesterday afternoon.

It felt like a Yo-Yo Craze for adults. (Remember the Yo-Yo Craze?)

Excuse me for a moment, I have to go and buy me a copy...


_______________________

Tech Savvy

OK. So I'm standing in the kitchen, and Laurel's phone starts to ring. We all have Caller ID. I look to see who is calling.

The person calling: 'JUSTIN'.

This can't be right. My cell phone is sitting in its drawer. Maybe its been stolen.

I come out of the kitchen. And there is The Boy. Phone unlocked. Laurel's number found. Green button pressed. And Boy looking up cheekily at me.

How does this happen?

He's 2.

Some New Pics

As the Scriptures say...

As a father shows compassion to his children,
so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him.
For he knows our frame;
he remembers that we are dust.

"Love doesn't sustain marriage. Marriage sustains Love"

In May 1943, German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote a letter to a young bride and groom, advising them on the nature of the union they were about to enter:

"Your love is your own private possession, but marriage is more than something personal — it is a status, an office. Just as it is the crown, and not merely the will to rule, that makes the king, so it is marriage, and not merely your love for each other, that joins you together in the sight of God and man. As you gave the ring to one another and have now received it a second time from the hand of the pastor, so love comes from you, but marriage from above, from God. As high as God is above man, so high are the sanctity, the rights, and the promise of love. It is not your love that sustains the marriage, but from now on, the marriage that sustains your love."

A further reflection on Bonhoeffer's quote is in this Washington Post Op-Ed piece : “Marriage was a status we graduated into, and it was bigger than we were. It defined us, and not the other way around. Now we seem to be losing the institutional imperatives of marriage, leaving only the private relationship -- and that is increasingly likely to turn on such things as personal satisfaction.” (If its a match between Bonhoeffer and Bruce Willis, I choose Bonhoeffer.)

So, my question is this: Have the following words any power under God to save a marriage?

...to have and to hold
From this day forward,
For better or worse,
For richer or poorer,
In sickness and in health,
To love and to cherish,
Until we are parted by death.
This is my solemn vow and promise.”

Love, Justin.

"I cast one look at the field, Then set my face to the town".

This is going to be one of those posts where friends send us private emails: “Are you doing OK? Really?” For the record, we are doing great. But Laurel and I both heard a sermon the other day which resonated.

We have loved NYC. There are lots of great things about being here. And at the same time, we have found it difficult living in the Gothom City. Laurel especially has to spend most of her day with 2 kids in a city without a car for escape. We cannot believe how much people spit on the sidewalk here. And the subway is not friendly to anyone who relies on wheels.

We were praying at a Prayer Breakfast for our Church last week, and the speaker recited the following poem by George MacDonald. It convicted us both.

As I quote this poem, I also think of my father, who is assisting with the running of a hospital in a part of Pakistan that must feel like the end of the earth.

NYC and Tank, Pakistan -- Two places where there are "no flowers" [or not many at least].

George MacDonald -- "What Christ Said":

I said, "Let me walk in the fields,
He said, "Nay, walk in the town;
I said, "There are no flowers there,
He said, "No flowers, but a crown."

I said, "But the sky is black,
There is nothing but noise and din.
But He wept as He sent me back;
There is more," He said, "there is sin."

I said, "But the air is thick,
And fogs are veiling the sun.
He answered, "Yet hearts are sick,
And souls in the dark undone."

I said, "I shall miss the light,
And friends will miss me, they say.
He answered me, "Choose tonight
If I am to miss you, or they."

I pleaded for time to be given;
He said, "Is it hard to decide
It will not seem hard in heaven
To have followed the steps of your guide."

I cast one look at the field,
Then set my face to the town;
He said, "My child, do you yield?
Will you leave the flowers for the crown?"

Then into His hand went mine,
And into my heart came He,
And I walk in a light divine
The path I had feared to see!

Love, Justin.

A Post Dedicated to Connie Coulianos of NYC

Connie Coulianos is the Children’s Ministry Director of Christ Church NYC.

The only thing that gets The Boy out of bed on a Sunday Morning to get to Church is the possibility of seeing Connie.

Connie is great. A real saint. She serves is a lovely gracious way. I heard her say this morning that her reward is that she gets to spend time with the children. That works for me. Mark 10:13-16 .

I haven't got a pic of Connie. I could find one on Google Images. But she'd probably be embarrassed to have one up hear anyways.

So, dedicated to Connie Coulianos, I submit the following exchange --

From the Letters pages of The Australian Newspaper:

“Tim Saclier (Letters, 23/5) has summed up beautifully the old cliché that religion is a triumph of superstition and blind faith over reason and logic. My own epiphany came at the age of 12, when my Sunday school teacher, in reply to my asking who created God, informed me with a straight face that God had always existed. I refused to attend further religious instruction on the grounds that I was being taught by idiots. My Sundays were then spent happily playing in the local swamp, where I observed many of the creatures from which I had actually evolved."
- Peter West, The Vines, WA

To which came the following riposte:

“Peter West (Letters, 24/5) reminded me of my old science teacher, to whom, at the age of 12, I posed the question, “Who caused the big bang?” He answered me, with a straight face, that nothing caused it, to which I promptly replied that something must have because it obviously happened. It was at that point that I had an epiphany: my science teacher could not give me an answer that was either reasonable or logical. My Sundays were then happily spent attending Sunday school and learning about the God who created me.”
- Bruce Newberry, Mansfield, Qld.”

Love, Justin.

Dr Laurel's graduation Pics

Here are some pics of Dr Laurel's graduation.
Can you pick her in the crowd?

The Boy was proud of his mum [as well as his balloons].

Where is wisdom to be found?

Laurel is appreciating your words of kindness. You are welcome to make more. :)

Love, Justin.

PS She graduated from the Catholic University of America. With the 'Shrine of the Immaculate Conception’ towering above, and the Archbishop dressed to the nines, and Wolf Blitzer from CNN embedded in the ceremony [in pic behind the Archbishop], the Roman Catholics know how to put on a show!

'Sinclair'

The Poll shall continue for a few days longer.
Go and take a vote, and we’ll let you know the answer in a few days time.

This Post, however, is about The Girl.

I am prepared to say on this Blog the middle name of our Daughter.
The Girl's middle name is 'Sinclair'.

People ask why.

And here is the reason: Sometime in the late 1700s or early 1800s, my great-great-great Grandfather on my mother’s side was involved in some sort of near-drowning boating incident in the Shetland Islands where they lived. We have no knowledge of the details; suffice to say that he almost lost his life.

He was rescued by a man with the name ‘Sinclair’.

To express his thanks, my ancestor named his firstborn, Robert Sinclair.
And Robert Sinclair grew up and named his son, Robert Sinclair II.
And Robert Sinclair II grew up and named his son, Robert Sinclair III.
Robert Sinclair III was my grandfather.

The name ‘Sinclair’ stopped at that point, as often happens. [The last one was named in the early 1900s.]

My wife and I liked this story of rescue. And we named her Sinclair so as to remember, reflect and be thankful for two things:

1. A simple and random moment of rescue some 200 years ago.
2. A profound and designed moment of rescue we find in Jesus.

That and we liked the name…

Love, Justin.

Laurel enters the Blogosphere

So this is how it starts...the slippery slope of kiddy consumerism.

I was out today with The Boy and The Girl running a few errands before travelling to DC for my defense. I went to the shops to get the essentials for the trip. At one point I paused in the middle of an aisle and tried to think about what else I had needed to get. Before a thought of my own could form I hear a little voice coming from the stroller that I was pushing say, “Elmo.”

I wasn’t sure that I had heard The Boy correctly so I asked him, “What did you say?”

“Elmo,” he replied. “Elmo.” Clear as day.

I looked around and sure enough, pictured on a box of biscuits there was the familiar ruddy visage of Elmo, with his falsetto voice and insidious laugh.

I was so taken by the way that The Boy had recognized Elmo and said his name that I just had to get the biscuits. He didn’t even ask for them. I think I dissolved into a blubbering puddle as I grabbed the box off the shelf. “Elmo! OhmygoodnessyousaidElmo! Yay! Let’s get a box and celebrate!”

I know, I know, I know. This must stop.

I can’t give The Boy everything he is able to say. What will I do when he says “kitten,” do I jump up and get him one? Or “dog,” or “pony,” or “jumping castle” or “small island in the South Pacific”? There is no way that I can fit a jumping castle in this apartment.

But then we went into Payless to find some inexpensive sneakers for The Boy. As I looked at the rather drab selection, once again The Boy said “Elmo.” And sure enough, lurking on the very bottom shelf and almost hidden from view was the most perfect pair of Elmo slippers.

“OhmygoodnessyousaidElmoagain!” I gushed.

However, I remembered that I was a bit too eager to buy The Boy biscuits just because he said “Elmo,” and so decided to only buy the slippers if they were really worth it.

“Are these real Elmo-fur slippers?” I asked the clerk.

He assured me that they were, indeed, made of genuine Elmo hide. I looked closely and recognised the unnatural sheen of the fur and the trademark way that it is supposed to look shiny, synthetic and flammable under florescent lights (in a way that imitation fur cannot copy).

“And what are the origins of the small, stuffed Elmo heads?”

Once again, the clerk put my fears at rest as he explained that they only source Elmo pelts from a farm in upstate New York. All Elmos are allowed to roam freely within the confines of the farm until they are humanely slaughtered (by tickling) and their pelts sold to Payless, who then pass them on to their cobblers.

Well, that sold me on the slippers.

We put them on The Boy right then and there in Payless and he didn’t take them off until he went to bed. Right now they are sitting at the foot of his bed and are ready for his feet to slip into them first thing in the morning.

But, the Elmo buying streak stops first thing tomorrow...just as long as he doesn’t say “Elmo” again.

Love, Laurel

Better for your soul than a bagel ever will be.

I would like to announce two things:

1. That amongst The Boy's first 20 words is the word: Bagel. He says it 20 times a day, and especially at mealtimes. I just moved our young family to New York City. What have I done?

2. I wrote some Bible Studies for Lent for Christ Church NYC. For those who don't know about Lent, join the club. I had to Wikipedia it. Lent is big here in NYC. At Christ Church NYC, we wanted to explore Mark 10:1-16:8 as a ‘moment of pause’ leading up to Easter. Craig Donnelly – good man administering at Christchurch St Ives – has put them on the Resources/Study Notes page at St Ives. Can someone download them for me and see if they print OK? I’m not sure if the font is working. That would be a help to me.

They can be downloaded here.

This is for your -- or your Bible Study's -- consumption.
Better for your soul than a bagel ever will be.

Love, Justin.

PS The Pic was taken in Epping 6 months ago by The Wife. I had to share it with the world.