As a lot of you know, Julie, Taylor, Riley, and I spent last week together on a beach vacation. 

Yes, we're grateful, pleased, and surprised that a 22-year-old living in Atlanta and a 19-year-old home from college for the summer are still OK with spending a week with their parents.  A cynic might say that's because we paid for it.  An optimist might . . . agree.

Here we are:


Here are five random observations from our time together, some of which might apply to your vacation, others to your vocation, and still others to your religion.

1.  The role of tradition.  The four of us have stayed at the same property on every vacation we've taken since 1997 . . . we believe this was the 13th time over those 16 years.  More than that, we do the same thing on the same night every year.  Monday: BBQ at the condo.  Tuesday: eat out at Fuddruckers.  Wednesday: Miniature Golf (and these days, 50-year-old parents complaining mightily that they still have to do miniature golf).  You may call commitment to tradition a bit OCD.  Our kids call it making memories.  Change the pattern at your peril.

2.  The appeal of a good book.  Note: this is much easier when they are 22 and 19 than when they were seven and four.  Since I no longer have to spend any time pretending to dig sand castles, there's more time to read.  Frank Deford's sportswriting memoir Over Time and Gillian Floyd's mind-bending Gone Girl made the time go quickly indeed.

3.  The power of innovation.  Riley received an iPad as a gift from a college friend (crazy, right?), and so this week was my first experience with the device.  Easy to use, hard to put down, flat out brilliant.  I hated to give it back.

4. The pull of work.  Because of item #3 above, it was oh-so-easy to check emails throughout the day.  So I did.  On a couple of occasions, I was actually needed.  How did any of us ever go away without remote access email before?

5.  The gratitude for home.  No matter how good a time you have when away, there's nothing quite like driving home.  We had to check the mail, feed the cats, and mow the lawn, but those are the weekly rhythms and routines out of which the spontaneity of real life emerge.

As you read this post in air conditioned comfort & surrounded by the latest technology, 30 Good Shepherd missionaries are serving under-resourced persons in Ecuador and Haiti.

Both groups are working with our partners at Samaritan's Feet to distribute shoes and share the gospel as they take seriously inviting all people into a living relationship with Jesus Christ.

Our Ecuador team has 13 volunteers; here they are in action:


If you are on Facebook, you can track their trip here:  https://www.facebook.com/TeamEcuador2012



Meanwhile, there are 17 folks on the Haiti team.  Here they are shortly after arrival:


Here's the Haiti Facebook page:  https://www.facebook.com/HaitiTeam2012

Now back in the 1990s, I loved Promise Keepers.

The stadium worship was authentically full color, the challenge to men was urgently necessary, and the response in our Mt. Carmel congregation was immediate and heartfelt. 

In our little church and around the world, Promise Keepers helped men become better followers of Jesus, better husbands, better dads, and better men.  I saw it first-hand.

But I never could wear the T-shirt.

Why?  Because of the tagline:  Men Of Integrity.

What if I got caught doing something lacking in integrity while wearing it?  Even something seemingly innocuous? 

Maybe more to the point . . . why should I wear something proclaiming my own integrity?  Isn't it better for other people to give you that label than to claim it yourself.

I guess the bottome line is this:  the louder you say it, the less I believe it.

Since I spent yesterday confessing songs to you that I probably shouldn't like but do anyway, I thought I'd fill in some other gaps today.

Here are some secrets I should probably keep . . . but just for today, I won't:

I wear two pair of socks to work everyday.  A pair of thick, white Thor-Los to keep my feet warm and my shoes tight and then a pair of respectably dark work socks over them.  Every day, no exceptions.

I have cottage cheese every day.

I wanted LeBron James to win.

When Jon Krakauer writes this: "Figures of male authority aroused in me a confusing medley of corked fury and a hunger to please" I know exactly what he means.

I'm much better presiding at funerals than officiating at weddings.

I sometimes look at my email Inbox and pray something new and interesting will appear.

I get frustrated and jealous when other people have better ideas than I do.

I don't think you need a graduate degree in psychology to understand that W had some Daddy Issues going on when he invaded Iraq.

My two most satisfying moments of the week: when I finish writing a sermon and when I finish mowing and edging the lawn.

I love wearing purple.

My nightmares involve an empty sanctuary on a Sunday morning.

I check my blog stats.

I sometimes get so nervous watching Roger Federer play that I turn the TV off.

My multi-tasking abilities include sending emails while in the middle of long phone conversations.

I still root for Tiger Woods.