WAY-ward.

“Daddy, can you make a paper airplane?” Molly asked. “Wait… Can I?! CAN I?! Of course I can!” I spent the next few minutes crafting and creating the greatest paper airplane ever made. I made precision folds and crimped the paper at all the right points. The nose of the plane ended in a sharp edge that would surely cut through the air. I wrote “Molly” on one wing and “Daddy” on the other. And then, I threw it.   The moment the airplane left my hand I knew it was going to be a good flight. My paper creation flew across the room with grace and poise. It flew until it couldn’t fly anymore as it crashed against the far wall. I smiled at Molly. I was pleased that the first paper airplane I made for her worked. So many of my days are filled with errs and blunders, it felt great to have a win – especially a win in front of my biggest fan. And so, you can imagine my surprise when Molly reacted with pity and disappointment. “It’s okay, Daddy. You can’t do everything.” “W...

There is nothing quite like watching things “click” for a three-year-old.  My daughter, Molly, is in that stage of life where things are beginning to make sense. She’s starting to really understand cause and effect. She’s learning that she can build, play, create, catch, dance, and do a bunch of really awesome activities. So, I have this pretty cool front-row seat where I get to watch her discover and learn.  I’ve watched as Molly’s favorite refrain has gone from “what?” to “watch this.” I’ve seen confusion become clarity. I’ve witnessed skeptical eyes fill with joy. I’ve heard the proud laughter of a child who’s proud of herself. I’ve seen her jaw drop. I’ve seen her eyes fill with happy tears. I’ve watched a smile slowly creep across her face in astonishment. It is so cool when life clicks, when things start to make sense. Jesus has me thinking about that lately. I’ve been reading the Gospel of Mark and there seems to be a ton of confusion over who Jesus ...

I’m a rule breaker. I like to break rules. This is especially true when it comes to my ministry. See, I’m a part of a tradition (Lutheran) that loves things like tradition. We have plenty of rules (a whole book of confessions [beliefs], constitutions and by-laws, etc.). Additionally, we have lots of unwritten rules (thou shalt sit in the back of church, worship shall not exceed 60 minutes, annual meetings shall be accompanied by a potluck supper, etc.). Most of my days are filled with “supposed to’s” and most of the time I like to break them. On occasion it gets me in trouble. “You can’t do that!” is a refrain I’ve gotten used to hearing. As I’ve grown in pastoral confidence I have developed an eloquent response… Why not? Most church-folk can fill in the rest of the conversation. “We’ve never done that before.” “That’s not how we do things around here.” “That isn’t a part of our tradition.” “But we’ve always done it this way.”   This isn’t a new conversation in th...

I'm tired. I'm tired of people hurting people. I'm tired of people killing people. I'm tired of gun violence. I'm tired of the conversation around gun violence. I'm tired of racism and sexism. I'm tired of homophobia and hate. I'm tired of Islamic Extremists. And I'm tired of unmerited anger towards Islam. I'm tired of war. I'm tired of bombs. I'm tired. I'm tired of Clinton. I'm tired of Bush. I'm really tired of Trump. I'm tired of an election that is still a year and a half away. I'm tired of pundits. I'm tired of politics. I'm tired of FoxNews. I'm tired of MSNBC. I'm tired of pretending I'm Democrat and I'm tired of pretending I'm Republican. I'm tired of pretending there's a party in these politics for me. I'm tired of the medical bills piling up on my counter. I'm tired of the allergies in my babies' bodies. I'm tired of worrying. I...

I have poison ivy. Bad.  Really bad.  Epically bad. Last Saturday I was with our youth group in a rough neighborhood in Detroit reclaiming abandoned and foreclosed houses. It was our task to take a city block and move from one boarded-up house to the next cutting down trees, shrubs, bushes and grass. We brought dignity back not just to houses that once held people, but to neighborhoods that still do.  Our kids were smart. We made sure they were. They worked hard and stayed on task. They stayed in front of houses and worked on curb appeal. I didn't. I was curious.  I walked around each house searching for the story behind their abandonment. I found new homes made of cardboard boxes in the backyard. I entered garages and sheds that had become living rooms. I even went into an "abandoned" house that was not "abandoned" at all - there were mattresses, clothes, books and food throughout. People were living there.   That expedition is w...

I forgot to eat the other day. I had meetings from 7AM through 9PM. Around dinner time I caught 45 minutes of free time and meant to grab a bite, but, like I said, I forgot. And so, when I arrived at home at 9:30 that evening, I was cranky.  My wife wanted to talk about her day. I shrugged her off.  My older daughter used every delay tactic she knows so she could see me before going to bed, so she was still up and wanted a story. Standing at her door, I quickly scrambled through a lame-duck narrative.   Once upon a time there was a girl named Molly. She was tired. So was her dad. So she went to bed. And they all lived happily ever after. Good night.   When I crashed on the couch, my wife sat next to me. She wanted a conversation with an adult for the first time all day. I obliged by replying “yea” and “nah” to her questions – too tired to even put an “s” at the end of a one syllable word.  “Thanks for the riveting conversation, Scot...