Archive | Personal

RSS feed for this section

Kriz Family Marble Run

Just an amusing little distraction in the midst of a gloomy Oregon November. Malachi, Hudson and Tristan (along with a little help from Tio Ovi, Baba Tony and Xhaxhai Robbie) spent a rainy Saturday afternoon constructing a large marble run.  I hope you enjoy it (the boys can’t keep their eyes and hands away from […]

What Do You Do When…

You know the way it feels. You have been there, just as I have many times before. How am I supposed to feel? How am I supposed to react? Is it okay to ask if anything is wrong? I am talking about when someone crying, politely dismisses themselves from a group gathering. Try as they […]

Imagine a life…

Imagine a life surrounded by integrated community. It may not be easy or exotic. But it would be meaningful. What picture comes to mind? It might be epitomized by a family dinner around a huge table, as luxurious in conversation as it is in food.

Entering the Jesus Dojo

We are trying something that is, quite frankly, a little risky. The Myers family and the Kriz family have committed to an experiment in the Jesus-way. It is action-based, communal spiritual formation. The Jesus Dojo was pioneered in San Francisco by my old friend Mark Scandrette and the folks of ReIMAGINE.

Hope and Food

Have we lost the way of hope? When I say “we”, I mean we “modern, affluent, developed, able, self-actualized” folk. When I say “way”, I mean a real, rooted, dirt under the fingernails, not merely ethereal or the sort of stuff simply for a Sunday-School discussion.

When a rain barrel is more than a rain barrel

Two years ago, during one of our first forays into urban homesteading, my Father’s Day present from Aimee was permission to install our first rain-barrel. It was a romantic thought to me. “Let’s not waste the water-from-heaven gift (even though we receive it some 300 plus days a year), let’s harvest it.”

Neighbors, “Armageddon” and Trap-doors

Truth be told (and this is embarrassing), I am much better at talking about “neighborhood” then I am at simply being a neighbor. I have a hard time getting to know the middle-aged single recluse next door. I have to ask Aimee to remind me the name of Donna’s husband across the street. I struggle […]