St. John the Baptist School, a Loss of a Historic Jordan Building

On August 6^th, they will begin demolishing the old St. John’s School building.  It will be difficult to drive past to see an empty space where the red brick school used to loom large.  

Given the options the church has, unfortunately, tearing the school down is the right thing to do.  Nevertheless, I'm sure it was a difficult decision to tear down the 110 year old building. 

My affection to the building, which is no different than many who attended, or worked there, is tied to the memories made and the uniqueness of a 110 year old structure.  Earlier this summer, a group of parishioners were working to salvage some of the wooden banisters, doors, coat hooks, and more.  I asked if there was a way I could walk through the building one last time.  After signing a waiver, they let me enter the building.

As I walked into the old school, with the smell of old wood and hearing the familiar creak of the staircase, I was no longer a 42 year married man with children, I transformed into my 11 year old self and I was a student again.  I’m wearing the St. John’s uniform of a white cotton polo shirt, navy blue dress pants with creases down the middle of each leg, and white Reebok high top sneakers. I have a full head of hair again.  The year is 1987, I’m in 5^th grade, where my parents are in charge of my well being, the Twins just won the World Series and worries of adulthood are gone.  My teacher was Ms. Smith and I had a crush on the cute girl who sat in front of me.

Each room I go into replays a slideshow of memorable moments.  In kindergarten, Mrs. Langsweirdt is reading books to us while sitting in a rocking chair.   In the 2^nd grade classroom, where my mom is the teacher, I wait for her to correct papers after school before we go home. 

Upstairs in Louie Hall, memories come flooding in from all the Christmas programs, science fairs, phy. ed. classes, and school assemblies.  Perhaps the most memorable moment occurred while the entire school practiced for the upcoming Christmas program.  During that rehearsal a bat flew in and swooped down multiple times towards all of us, which sparked ear piercing screams from the girls (and some teachers) and we all ran downstairs to our classrooms.

I pause in the Louie Hall Auditorium, with it’s high ceilings and wood floors, and stand silently, reflecting on my time here.   When you are experiencing something for the last time, it’s best to linger as long as you can to soak it in. Unlike the rest of the school with mold, and decaying walls, the auditorium has held up remarkably well – besides the layers of dust, it has been frozen in time.   But now, just like all things, the end has come.  It’s time to move on and I must say good-bye.  I will no longer be able to physically visit this building again, which has the ability to trigger nostalgia and old memories– that will be reserved for old pictures, class reunions, and the people who were around me during the formative years of grade school. 

Earlier in the week, I ventured to the new St. John’s school building with my three year old son.  We played on the same playground his older siblings used to play on.  My older kids have graduated from St. John’s and have moved onto the next stage in life and I relished the ability to re-live this moment again with my youngest and to make new memories.    We won’t be able to make new memories in the old building across the street, which brings me to my final reflection.

I have been lucky that my past has been filled with many good memories.  I am lucky to be a part of the history of the old St. John’s School.  It is good for us to reflect on the past and use those insights for the future.  We cannot stay in the past, for it is gone.  Although I will mourn the loss of the building, I hang onto the hope of the future.  Jordan’s future is very bright.  I look forward to the progress and the great things that are happening.  New parks, splash pads, new businesses, and excellent schools.  I reflect on the past, but place my focus on moving forward.  Looking forward with anticipation brings positivity, but remaining in the past keeps us stagnant.  Once the building is leveled, I hope for something positive to take its place in the future.  Something that benefits the school, church, and the town of Jordan.  This is my challenge to the church, the city, and the community.  Let’s work together to utilize this prime piece of property for the benefit of all.  To do anything less is a waste of a historic building.          

Window looking out to the church, photo taken from auditorium floor

4th grade classroom chalkboard - still lessons on the board from 14 years ago.

2nd grade classroom with a bathtub that was used for kids to read in.  It was too heavy to move so it remained in the building.

Main entrance

I invite you to find out more about the history of this building by reading David Melin's Blog, "The Life of a Father of Five" - which you can access by clicking HERE

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Five Reasons to Run Outdoors this Winter

Five Reasons to Run Outdoors this Winter.

       1.   You Don’t Get Hot

The first and most obvious benefit to running outside in the winter is that you aren’t likely to overheat. Because of this, winter running is actually somewhat easier. Heat and humidity slow you down and can make you want to stop running before your planned mileage is up. Even in the gym, the air can get sticky. But outside in the fresh air you can maintain a comfortable temperature for a long time with just a couple of moisture wicking layers on.

       2.     It Builds Mental and Physical Toughness

Pulling on the gear and heading out into the 20 degree day can be a hard thing to do when your house is (and your toes are) nice and warm. Not to mention the fact that there’s dirty snow on the ground, the trees are nothing to look at and your running partners have all disappeared.  We’ve talked about suppressing the lizard brain – the voice in you head that tells you – “I can’t”; well, this is a good time to learn how to quiet your lizard brain.

Running in the cold improves your physical endurance; the intense weather can program your body to operate better in adverse conditions, thereby increasing your stamina. Also, you’ll get used to the cold after awhile, and the increase in blood circulation can keep you warmer while you’re at rest. Learn to love racking up miles out in the chilly tundra, and you’ll become a much stronger runner.

3.     It Curbs the Winter Blues

Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) gets to a fair amount of us, especially after the holidays are over. But even if you don’t get the winter blues, a dose of fresh air and sunshine is good for you. It can boost your mood and keep you motivated while everyone else is sleeping late and complaining about the snow.

4.     Keeps You in “Movie Star” Shape

The term “bathing suit season” was coined for a reason: most everyone spends the spring and summer on some diet trying to lose the winter weight and regain their shape. But you don’t have to let the colder months turn you into a lazy pile of mush.

You can stay motivated and challenged all winter long by keeping up on those outdoor miles. Your swimsuit will thank you. So ask for some running gloves and a neck-warming gaiter for the holidays, and run outdoors this winter. You might even surprise yourself and find that you love it.

5.     Positions You to Reach Your Personal Best For the RUN OF THE MILL!!!

Athletes not in a winter or spring sport rapidly lose their stamina, endurance, and strength if they stop working out and do nothing.  The benefit of winter outdoor running is the maintenance of your level of fitness.  The goal should be to maintain your fitness so that you are ready for THE BIGGEST RACE OF THE YEAR.   Just maintaining your fitness level puts you ahead and will undoubtedly lead you to unprecedented personal best times in our small town race.

It is important for athletes not in a winter sport or in a low-cardiovascular spring sport (such as golf or baseball) to try and fit in runs when you can, otherwise your performance will go backwards or your improvements at best will be minimal.

Marathon Motivation

How do you find out if someone has run a marathon?  Those that have finished one have already told you.

I signed up for the Twin Cities Marathon as a way to support my wife as she tackled running a marathon for the first time.  Last Sunday I went into the race having just recovered from a couple of running injuries.  The injuries prevented me from training as much as I would have liked.  I was nervous for the run, as my longest run leading up to race day was six miles.  But I made it to the starting line!  Because of this, my goal was to finish the marathon before they closed the course in the 6-hour time limit. 

Something interesting happened during the race.  Enthusiasm.  All throughout the race people cheered all the runners on.  Thousands of people, who have no idea who you are, cheered for you, because you were doing something that less than 1% of the population have ever done before.  Running is sport where your mind tends to control how well you run.  If you are not in the right mind-set, you will not run well, even in you have fresh legs.  But if your legs are tired, your mind can help push through pain and finish the race. 

The crowds acted like a huge boost of energy.  They cheered for you, they clapped their hands, they held signs that read, “I don’t know who you are, but I’m proud of you!” You’ve trained longer than Kim Kardashian was married!”  “You know the first person that ran this died, right?”  All of the encouragement and motivation pushed me to do the best I could.  Which reminds me of the Zig Ziglar quote, “Motivation, like showering, doesn’t last, so we should do it daily.”   I was showered all throughout the race with the crowd’s encouragement that I went on to finish the race in 4 hours 22 minutes - a full hour and 38 minutes faster than my goal!  Before the race I didn’t think 4 hours 22 was possible, and wouldn’t have been possible without the support.  

So my challenge to you is: Whom can you encourage today?  How can you motivate yourself and others?

Remind Me Who I Am

Last Friday night I was able to see Jason Gray live in concert.  His music was great, but his message of the motivation for writing the song, "Remind Me Who I Am" was even better.  Being February and the month of love, I thought it very appropriate to share.  (I italicized the part that was an "A-Ha!" moment for me. )

Enjoy! 

 

June 29, 2011

Originally posted in The Rabbit Room) by Jason Gray


For the last few years my journey has circled around the idea of identity, where we find it, and why it matters. Our resident expert on the issue of identity here in the Rabbit Room is Ron Block, whose posts and comments are fragrant with the hope of the new creation alive and available to each of us. He knew something that I want to know, and so I wanted to talk with him.
It had been on my mind to give him a call for several months already when, sitting on a plane in Seattle one night in January, I watched him board. Not only is Ron a really kind and intelligent guy, but he also happens to be in one of the most accomplished bands in the world, Alison Krauss’s Union Station. Heck, he even made an appearance in one of my favorite movies: “Oh Brother Where Art Thou”. So when he spotted me, smiled, and said “I’m sitting by you!” I guess I felt a little like the girl from America’s Got Talent – “Ron Block wants to sit by me?” I thought to myself.
It all had the whiff of a divine appointment, and thanks to Southwest Airline’s open seating policy, Ron was soon seated next to me and for the next three hours I got an education that brought some clarity to my understanding of myself and the way the human heart works. Much of what inspired this song grew from that conversation.
The idea I absorbed in my formative years was that I sin because of my willful disobedience. And while that may be true in part, another truth is that most, if not all, of the time I really don’t want to sin, so that I do so seemingly against my own will. Or as the apostle Paul famously said, “I decide to do good, but I don’t really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway…” ( The Message)
So sin begins to look more like addiction than anything else, as though there is a ravenous hunger deep inside of me that demands to be fed. What is that hunger, I wonder?
Genesis chapter three tells us that one of the first consequences of sin entering the world is that the ground would be cursed, that we would eat by the sweat of our brow and the soil would produce weeds and thistles. This carries in it the idea of futility: that our efforts are frustrated, that no matter what we do, we feel it’s never enough – that perhaps we are never enough.
The constant, nagging fear that we don’t and never will measure up is like a pebble in our shoe that troubles every step of our journey. Surely this is the curse.
We can’t live under the oppression of inadequacy long before we start looking for ways to escape the shame and loneliness of it, and things go from bad to worse as we flee from the curse by running to things we hope will make us feel loved, desirable, and worthy.
We run to affairs. We surround ourselves with symbols of status that we hope will convince us of our worth. We escape into the fantasy world of pornography where for a moment we can imagine ourselves desired and wanted with no risk of rejection. We flee to workaholism determined to prove our value – our life and vocation shaped by a fear of failing. We hide in the bottle. We turn inward and refuse to risk disappointing those we love by withholding ourselves from them.
But of course all of these desperate grabs for significance leave us worse off than we were before — more empty, more ashamed, and with more regret.
If only we could learn to run to Christ, the one who calls us his beloved, his bride, the child that he chose to welcome into his family. We would hear him tell us that we are enough because he says so. We would hear him call us his treasure, and we would come alive.
There is that parable where Jesus speaks of the Kingdom of God being like a man who, having found a treasure in a field, sold everything he had in order to buy the field and gain the treasure. I was always taught that I was the man in the story who needed to give up everything in order to “gain” the Kingdom of God. But our own Andrew Peterson pointed out to me years ago that in the other parables surrounding this one, the “man” in the story was always God. What if God cast himself as the man in this parable, too? Is he the one who gave everything he had in Jesus in order to recover us? Could it be that we are God’s treasure?
When I’m tempted by sin these days, I can feel beneath it a desire to feel worthy and loved. This desire tells me that I’ve forgotten who I am and need reminding. I’m learning to run to the only one who can tell me, the One who carved my name in the palm of his hand and gave everything he had so I could be his.
It is heady and humbling at the same time to be so highly regarded by one so worthy. It makes a difference.

Letters to Dad

For Anne Ylvisaker, ideas come from asking questions. 

Ylvisaker, posed a deep question to her aunt, “What was it like to lose your father while in elementary school?”  In the conversation, Anne’s aunt replied she had written a letter to her father before he died.  However when replaying the conversation in her head, she didn’t remember correctly and thought that her aunt wrote a letter to her dead father after he died.

So Anne wondered, “What would a nine year old write to her father after he died?”

She put herself into the mind of that nine year old and wrote a letter.  Sadly, Anne lost her own father not long before and missed telling him all about the details of everyday life, so that’s what she had the nine-year-old write about. 

Anne wondered where the story might lead, and then soon had enough letters to compile a book – which she titled, Dear Papa.

My own eight-year-old daughter and I just finished the book as part of her bedtime routine.  As I was reading Dear Papa to my daughter, one letter struck a cord with me.

Dear Papa,

Happy Birthday to you! I knew right away when I woke up this morning that it was your birthday.  I looked at everyone’s face at breakfast to see if they remembered….

On the way home, I invited Ian (her brother) to come to my room for a party after school.  We snuck up candles and crackers and milk and taped paper candles to the crackers.  We told 44 things we remember about you.

This particular letter caused me to pause and think, “What if I were to die and my daughter would start writing letters like this to me?  What if when I’m in heaven I can see what is happening on earth and read the letters my daughter is writing?”  This thought brought tears to my eye about the love between a father and his children.  What for the daughter is a simple gesture of writing a letter about what is happening in her life, for a father it is a huge sign of love.

And for the first time I thought, could this be what prayer is like on the receiving end?   To me, it was a realization that my simple thanksgiving prayer that I offer up each day is heard.  It is heard and means more to Him than what I probably give it credit for.

He is crazy about us.  He craves that relationship with us.   It isn’t unlike the love between parents and their children, except His love for us is greater.   To make our Father happy we can engage in a simple conversation with prayer. 

I’m going out on a limb here, but maybe He knows that the physical distance between us is hard, that the lack of audible response puts doubt instead of hope in our hearts – and so when we pray it is backing up our faith and it sends a powerful message to Him that we believe. 

So how do we pray?  Before I answer, re-read the letter in italics above. 

What did you notice?  What I noticed is that the letter begins by remembering the Dad’s birthday, and how excited she was for him.  The letter centers on the cool things about their dad.  Interestingly (or coincidently) enough my birthday was just last week, and my daughter wrote the 10 best things she liked about me.   It touched my heart.  So when you pray, I think an important component of prayer is thanking God for our blessings and listing off things that are cool about your Father.

If you look at prayer in the perspective of a parent child relationship - a heartfelt prayer is best.  Think about it.  When I ask my child how school was, I usually get the same response, “Good”.   What I hope to hear is, how recess was, what did they learn, and if they struggled with anything.  I don’t get frustrated with the one word automatic reply, but it sure is fun hearing about the details of their world.   

Prayer is important, especially because I feel the relationship you have with your Father is the most important relationship we have.  I typically don’t share my faith quite so publicly, because of the fear of being judged.  But I looked at prayer in a new perspective, and felt compelled to share it with you. 

My Words of Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving

Coffee with swirling cream

Rotary Turkey Trot

Macy's Thanksgiving Parade
Oh You Turkey coloring contest
Patrick Reuesse's Turkey of the year

Road trip to the relatives
Grandmas, Aunts, Uncles, In-Laws
Overstuffed Couch
Football

Wafting thanksgiving dinner kitchen air
Stomach growls
Anticipation

Prayer

Turkey
Lumpy mashed potatoes with gravy
Stuffing
Sliced Cranberry jell out of the can
Sweet Potatoes
Green Bean Casserole
Buttered corn
Fresh warm baked rolls
Cold milk

Going back for seconds

Overstuffed belly

Pumpkin Pie
Flavored Coffee

More Football
Food Coma, couch

Brisk walk

Cards and Conversation
Leftovers
Beer
Hot tub

Autumn Lovin'

The difference between poor and broke.

Recently I've fielded several calls inquiring about scholarships for behind the wheel instruction.  Here at community education we offer behind the wheel at a cost of $250 for six hours of instruction.  I'll admit $250 is expensive.  But the cost covers the instructors pay, insurance (which is high) gas, and maintenance of the vehicle.

In one particular case a mother and her daughter asked if we could set-up a payment plan so that they could tackle the cost in chunks.  They agreed to pay $50 a month.  Once we received $150 we went ahead and gave the behind the wheel instruction, but we kept the daughters form that allows her to take the drivers test until we received the final $100 in payment.  Once we received the $100, she would get her form and be able to take the drivers test.

A month after she had finished behind the wheel, the mother and daughter failed to make any payments on the rest of the $100 that was owed.  Then the mother called and asked for a scholarship for the remaining $100.  I said no.  Then she told me that they weren't in a position to come up with $100 and wouldn't be able anytime soon be able to come up with $100.  I simply said, "as soon as you come up with the $100 we'd be happy to give you the form to allow your daughter to take her drivers test."

I wanted to help, I wanted to bring her into my office and figure out how she could come up with $100.  But I didn't.  I didn't because I knew this woman was not only broke, but poor.

There is a big difference between being poor and being broke.
When you're poor you have no money, and no hope of ever getting money
When you're broke you have no money, but you have hope.
When you're poor, you focus on all the problems
When you're broke, money is only a short-term problem.

Instead of looking for work, she was looking for a hand out.
Instead of teaching her daughter how money works, she was teaching her how unemployment works.
Instead of focusing on ways to come up with $100, she focused and worried about lack of money.
Instead of taking action and making a decision to do anything, she decided to take no action.  

This is how mom was raised and is raising her daughter.  And so the cycle continues.


Reminds me about the quote, It's not where you've been that's important, it's where you are going.

In the past 12 months our house has been hit with an usual amount of household problems.  Not one but two cars needed to be replaced.  Bought used cars.  Used cars ran well - for about a week.  Made numerous trips to the mechanic.  Dryer went out.  Vacuum died.  Needed beer. 

Then we made some tough choices with money.  Instead of having a stay-cation, we went to Colorado for a family reunion (we committed to go and paid for half the trip).  We also decided to send our kids to private school, which is not cheap.

Throw in all those financial obligations and we spent close to $15k in expenses that we normally don't have.  I don't know about you, but an extra $15,000 added extra stress to my life.   It's enough to freak you out.  Especially when the bill from the mechanic has an extra zero that you weren't planning on.  We couldn't pay the bill.   Because we didn't have all of the money to pay for the repair, the mechanic kept the car.  Don't worry, it worked out.  We got creative with transportation and eventually paid, and got the car back

If you're poor and you have a flat tire... your whole world gets turned upside down.  Poor people operate on a thin margin of error.  Luckily for us, we are not poor, just broke.  When misfortune hits, we work extra hours, we slash our expenses, and eat a lot of peanut butter sandwiches.  It may take a while for us to get on track, but at least for us there is hope.  Which above all is the main difference between being poor and being broke.  We know this is just bad-luck and is only short-term.

So I say to all my readers... hang in there.  "Out of suffering comes perseverance.  With perseverance comes character.  Out of character hope.  And hope does not disappoint us because God has poured his love into our hearts by the holy spirit, whom he has given us"  -Romans 5: 3-8.