Well, not yet. Three weeks from today I turn 27. That number seems crazy to me, considering I still feel like a 14-year-old. But considering that these days, to me, college students look like high schoolers and high schoolers look 12 it must mean that I’m getting older.

Some time ago, I came across an organization called charity: water that was founded by a guy who wanted to make a difference on his birthday. He was turning 31, and he had realized that his faith had grown stagnant and his life was all about himself. So he asked his friends to do away with the gifts and try to raise money to deliver clean water to areas of need. In the last two years, they have raised over $7.5 million, funded 1,030 water projects in 13 countries and effected the lives of 500,000 people. Talk about putting faith into action.

This year, I want to do the same. Instead of gifts, I’m asking for contributions. $20 will provide clean water to one person for twenty years. If you think about it, $1 will give someone clean water for a year. A year of clean water for the price of, what, chicken nuggets? A third of a cup of coffee? The amount of change in your couch? For my birthday, I want to provide 1000 people with clean water this year.

The past month I’ve been part of a study through the book of Proverbs, and one thing has been staggeringly clear to me: God wants us to care about those who need help. In fact, He says it is an abomination to ignore the cries of the poor and needy. According to Merriam-Webster, an abomination is extreme disgust and hatred. I don’t want to be that anymore.

Please watch the video from founder Scott Harrison, it’s nothing short of inspirational. Go to charity: water and read about the organization. 100% of public donations go directly to water projects.

Then, please consider going to www.mycharitywater.org/chris. Every dollar saves a life.

Okay, I admit it. That last post was maybe a little bit negative. Hopefully this one will bring me some redemption.

I remember several years ago my bible study leader / mentor / friend’s dad / friend Steve Larson had us think back through our life and write down the landmark people, places and events that had shaped our life and our journey of faith. It’s a pretty powerful thing when you see the people who changed you (for the good or for the bad) and God’s providence in all aspects of your life.

The last ten years have been the most important years of my life in terms of shaping my beliefs and philosophies about life. And I know I wouldn’t be where I am today if it were not for some key people. Certainly, everyone in my life is influential in some way, and plenty of people have ebbed and flowed in the amount of influence throughout my life. My family, of course, has been incredibly influential, though in the last few years less so. Same with friends.

These are some of the people that shaped the person I am today.

Tiffany Baird
Tiffany was the first person to really start talking to me about Jesus. I had my experiences with “religious” people in the past, but there was something very different about her. And, she actually cared about me rather than spouting something at me and walking away. Six years later she introduced me to the woman who would become my wife. Tiffany is the reason for the two happiest days of my life thus far.

Josh Goodman
I grew up catholic, so I spent a lot of time in mass. When I heard Josh Goodman talk about the bible for the first time at Franks House of Rock in Des Moines, I couldn’t believe the passion and depth with which he talked. The dude clearly believed what he was talking about, and cared whether or not you believed it. Josh’s messages where the meat of the conversations Tiffany and I had. Were it not for Josh talking about the reality of heaven and hell, I might not have thought twice.

Greg Teselle
Greg was the pastor in charge of Franks House, where I first hard that Jesus can change your life. Through my freshman year of college, Greg was the one who poured into my life, challenged me to be a youth leader (even though I still didn’t really understand what Christianity was about) and helped me get my legs as a new believer.

Aaron Nordyke
Aaron has been a dear friend for most of these last ten years. He has influenced my daily relationship with God, shown me the value of the New American Standard and English Standard Version bibles, challenged me to quit smoking, got me back into long-distance running, showed me the value of generosity and is an all-around awesome guy. My life would be drastically different without his friendship.

Steve Larson
About seven years ago, Steve took a group of young guys under his wing and taught them the value of reading, interpreting, and applying all of the bible from Genesis to Revelation. The lessons I have learned from him are immeasurable. My relationship with Steve is the kind that is hard to define: he’s my friend’s dad, a bible study leader, a mentor, a role model and above all, a friend. Complicated relationships can be good.

The Monday Night Study
Since Steve started the Monday night study group, members have come and gone. I realized the other night that I’m the only remaining original member, but I would have it no other way. There is something powerful about sharing meals together then discussing our ideas and insights into what the bible means. In the early days, we would study for three hours, then go to someone’s place and drink, smoke and discuss for another three. Life circumstances have caused a change in that model, but those first couple years were by far the most impactful. There’s something oh-so-right about discussing theology at midnight with a beer in hand.

Paul Sabino
Paul was the college pastor at The Salt Company, so I spent most of my college career listening to him speak. Again, he was a man who spoke with an all-too-rare passion and understanding of the bible. To date, he’s still the best boss I have ever had and consider it a privilege to work along side him for two years. It’s pretty amazing when your boss prays for you, I certainly miss that.

The Salt Company / Cornerstone Staff
My first year on staff with The Salt Company gave me an invaluable inside look at the staff dynamic at Cornerstone. If you ever doubt the intentions of a pastor, just spend a week with him and you’ll know pretty quickly the state of his heart. I was humbled by the honesty, integrity and authenticity of everyone on staff, and it challenged me every day to live out what I believed. That first year with The Salt Company really felt like family, and now that we’re spread throughout the country it makes you long for reunion.

Todd Wallace
Todd is one of my favorite people to talk with. Any time we get together it seems like what we’re supposed to be talking about gets put on the back-burner and we usually meet way longer than planned. Everything from theology to technology, life to leadership, music to marriage, and now how to raise girls. I blame Todd for making me step up in leadership, but it has been a healthy struggle.

Katie Saldanha
I have never been challenged more in my life than in the last two years of marriage. Katie is not only my joy and my crown, but my mirror and magnifying glass that brings to light every blemish and flaw in my life. What I love about our relationship was that the precedent to challenge and grow one another was set in our dating relationship. As cheesy as it sounds, she makes me want to be a better man. Not only a better man, but the man God is calling me to be. She will accept nothing less, and I’m thankful it’s that way.

Looking back on the influence these people have had in my life, and how drastically different I am today than ten years ago makes me excited for the change that will come in the next ten years. Hopefully, I can manage to influence a person or two along the way.

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times when we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities dirty and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wineskins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

- T.S. Eliot

“The value of the gift is magnified when you consider the kind of people that make up the world.”
- Paul Sabino

The season of Christmas is bittersweet for me. I love celebrating the birth of Jesus, reflecting on what His life and love means, and rejoicing in the gift He gave me. That gift of being saved from my corrupted and hell-bound self. That’s the sweet part. The bitter part is knowing and loving people who don’t care. They don’t care about Jesus or don’t believe they need His gracious gift.

Last night, at church, I cried (yeah, I cried, so what?) tears of joy for the life of Jesus, and tears of sorrow for the people who don’t have that gift, who don’t want that gift, and are separated from God.

Paul Sabino gave a great message on John 3, and specifically verse 16, which is so commonly known and diluted. A man named Nicodemus comes to Jesus wanting to know about the true life that He offers. Nicodemus was a Jewish teacher who was a good religious man, but knew he was missing something. He was missing a true relationship. Before the well-known “God so loved the world” line, Jesus mentions a story of Israel when they were plagued with venomous snakes, and Moses had to raise a bronze snake on a stick to heal the people who were bitten and infected. In the same way, Jesus had to be raised up so that people who have been infected may be healed. And this gift is extended to, and necessary for everyone.

Especially me. And for that I cry tears of joy. Every day I need to be saved from myself – my selfishness, my greed, my arrogance, my worship of anything other than the One who deserves it. God gives the Gift that gives us true life, and life to the fullest, and it makes me sad that people don’t want that. Not only don’t want it, but wholly reject it.

So instead, we mask the reality of this week with family and gifts and food. Yeah, family, gifts, and food are good things and are part of it, but are we missing the point? Are we missing it?

Are you missing it? I beg you to consider the weight of the gift, and find the joy that comes with it.

Good
Snow days. We had a movie and shoveling marathon yesterday thanks to the heavens dumping 12 inches of snow on central Iowa.

Bad
The massive sheet of ice between Ankeny and Ames. This morning was not a fun commute.

The Baby
We found out Monday that we’re having a little girl! This is the first granddaughter in both our families, and only the second great-granddaughter. Needless to say, we’re very, very excited. I know that people are going to want to spoil this little angel, but please, go easy on the pink and princess stuff. We’re just not that kind of people.

We also got a bit of not-so-great news. Yesterday the doctor called and said they had spotted a cyst on the baby’s brain. More than likely the cyst will go away or just be a non-issue, but any time you hear something is there that shouldn’t be, and somewhere kind of important like the brain, you tend to worry. At least, we do. So for those who are the praying type, we would appreciate those prayers. For those who are not, I’m sure God wouldn’t mind hearing from you either. We appreciate all the love and support our family and friends give us.

For me, this is one of those critical moments, where I have to choose how I’ll react to a given situation.

Do I:
A) Freak out.
B) Get angry.
C) Trust.

My immediate reaction is A, maybe with a little bit of B sprinkled in there. I think that’s human nature. My knee-jerk reaction is, “What injustice?!? Why my kid? Haven’t I been faithful, God?” As I’ve been studying through the Old Testament book of Psalms, Lamentations, Ecclesiastes I see a common theme: Life can really suck, but it’s not supposed to be that way. I know that God doesn’t want Baby S to have a cyst on her brain, but nature is corrupted and mutated. These things happen. It’s, well, nature.

God wants answer C. So that’s what we’re going to do. We know the rejoicing that will come in the end.

“Your hands made me and fashioned me; give me understanding, that I may learn Your commandments. May those who fear You see me and be glad, because I wait for Your word.”

This year we certainly have a lot to be thankful for. In a lot of ways I would say we have more to be thankful for this year than ever. Is that true? Sure, a lot of awesome things have happened, but should I be any less thankful any other time? Do I value certain things too much, and those things are what make me thankful?

I have been listening to a seminar that a pastor in Minneapolis named John Piper gave about prayer, fasting, and meditation. I have to say, it’s been really challenging. It has challenged what I am thankful for, and how to create a spirit of thanksgiving in all areas of my life.

Like orange juice. Did you give thanks for the orange juice you drank this morning? Why not? Orange juice, as much as a child, is a provision from God, and I want to thank God for all providence in my life.

So God, thank you for the harvest. Thank you that you bring rain when the crop needs rain, and sun when the crop needs sun. Thank you for the farmers whom you have given knowledge to grow and nurture the crop. Thank you for the hard workers who squeeze and bottle the orange juice, the truck drivers, the stockers at Hy-Vee, and the technology of self-checkout so I can enjoy a refreshing glass of orange juice in the morning. Thank you for a job that pays me more than enough to enjoy such luxuries. And thank you, my God, for life today, so I could enjoy that glass of juice.

Maybe if we were more thankful for orange juice, we’d be all-the-more thankful for the big stuff.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Life with God is messy. This isn’t something you hear a lot from evangelists, because it doesn’t really make you want to accept God and draw near to Him. If my life is already messy, why do I need God to mess it up more?

We all want to hear that God will make our life perfect, God will give us that job we really love, God will make us financially stable, God will give us more wishes if we ask for more wishes. But God isn’t a genie or Santa, waiting to bend His will to our whims. He’s God, who created us, and it’s us who need to bend to His will.

In our bible study, we’re spending time in the Psalms. Twice in the New Testament, the apostle Paul says to use the Psalms to teach and encourage each other. It’s interesting that Paul doesn’t say to teach Deuteronomy or even his own letters. In the Hebrew tradition, the Psalms were sung at festivals and celebrations, and around the dinner table, to deepen understanding and communion with God.

But if you read Psalms, you quickly realize that the writers aren’t saying that God gave them a new hut, or increased their drachmas, or multiplied their camels. The writers are struggling to reconcile the pain and suffering they experience with the God of promise they know. When was the last time an evangelist used Psalm 22 to share Jesus with someone?

“I am poured out like water,
And all my bones are out of joint;
My heart is like wax;
It is melted within me.”

Doesn’t sound very appealing.

So if God doesn’t make everything magically better, why believe? This seems to be a lot of people’s argument against God. But is it better in suffering to not believe? Whether or not the situation gets better isn’t God’s promise. God offers perspective and hope. The perspective we gain is that this suffering transforms us, and is but a breath compared to the eternity of Heaven. I would rather suffer a lifetime and spend eternity with God than have a cozy life and an eternity of darkness. The hope we have is creation was not meant to be like this, so God does offer the chance for a miracle. Whether or not the miracle comes, should we praise God any less? I don’t think so.

The Psalms shows us that we need a major overhaul of our expectations. God probably won’t cancel the debt on your credit card, or He might not cure your cancer, but should He be any less glorified? He gave us life to begin with, each breath a blessing from above. Let’s realize how majestic God really is, and how infinitely separated we are from Him, and be thankful He would even consider us to be worthy of redemption. Maybe that will put life in perspective.

It’s hard not to think of what happened in 2001 when September 11 rolls around. I feel bad for those with birthdays (Sorry, Sarah!) and anniversaries (Sorry, Chris and Meredith!) on this day that will be forever overshadowed by the worst act of terrorism on American soil to date.

This day really gets me thinking about what we value, and the status of America in the world. Unfortunately, I think the golden age of America is over. For a century, we were the powerhouse. Our economy fueled the world. Nations looked to us like the reserved, well-respected kid on the playground that would resolve conflict. The “American Dream” was born and achieved.

But where are we today? Involved in two unpopular wars. A fledgling economy. A country divided. It’s amazing to think that 8 years ago, every American put aside their differences and were actually united. Too bad it took a horrific event to unite us.

So where does that lead us? With the rise of Russia, China, and India in the last couple decades and too many frenemies with supposed nuclear capabilities (I’m looking in your general direction, Iran and North Korea), it seems like the USA chants are fading in the background and the world’s nation-crush with us is over.

To be honest, I’m glad. Partisanship, failed economics, and less respect on the world stage might be exactly what this country needs. Every world power or dominant society in history came to an end, so why would we expect America to be any different? I doubt Cesar saw his downfall coming.

I think Jesus had it right. Give to Cesar (or Obama, or whoever) what belongs to them, but give to God what belongs to Him. We really need to be careful, now more than ever, of where we put our hope and our hearts. Our hope is not in Obama. He might bring change, he might not. But the reality of pain and suffering, politics, and all the other junk we deal with will still be there. Bi-partisan politics and legislation will not unite us, and will not solve our problems.

God’s been calling for unity for a long time. I just hope we respond before we need another wake up call.

“Blessed be the peacemakers.”

Last night, Katie convinced me to pick up a pair of these babies. That’s right, I now own a pair of Vibram Five Fingers. I remember first seeing them a couple years ago and thinking, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen.” But the truth is once you slip them on they feel amazing.

Why did I get them? For starters, my interest was peaked by seeing a pair in good buddy Aaron Nordyke’s house. I thought, “Of course you’d buy these.” But as he began talking about how amazing they feel and how they’ve helped correct his running I became interested. Then he recommended a book called “Born To Run” by Christopher McDougall. McDougall is on the search to rediscover the lost art of running, along the way meeting a colorful cast of characters. The book is nothing short of inspirational.

So a couple weeks ago I decided to start running barefoot. I’m still rehabbing a bum ankle, but immediately I noticed that I could run a couple miles effortlessly. And there’s something so right about running barefoot. Maybe it’s the connection of your body with the earth, or the fact you can really feel what’s going on under your feet. There’s certainly something therapeutic and right about barefoot running.

There’s also something very wrong about barefoot running – nasty, nasty blisters. Katie got sick of seeing my gross feet, so as soon as I tried a pair on she convinced me to buy them. What an amazing wife!

I have always felt something very spiritual about running. It could be the parallels with Paul talking about running the race and winning the prize, or beating his body into submission. There is certainly an element of discipline. More than that, when I run the entire world shuts off. All I hear is the pitter-patter of my feet and the rhythm of my breath. My mind manages to push every thought and worry aside and God speaks. Maybe not an audible voice, but certainly He speaks through my thoughts. Ideas begin to take shape and understanding forms as I push further and further to the rhythm of heart, feet, and breath.

Looking goofy is a small price to pay for communing with God.

This summer was supposed to be my healthiest and fittest summer yet. Between soccer, backpacking, and training for a (half) marathon, I was preparing to be in the best shape of my life. Then (thanks to a bum ankle) all hopes and dreams were torn from my hands, only to be replaced by the dvd player remote, ice cream, and beer. Needless to say, this summer is not turning out as planned.

To get my mind off of being inactive, Katie let me run from my problems down to Kansas City for a visit, albeit short, with the one and only Aaron Nordyke, to take in a Kansas City Wizards and L.A. Galaxy game. For those that are unaware, we’re talking Major League Soccer. And not only Major League Soccer, but week two of David Beckham’s return to the L.A. Galaxy. I was excited. It was great.

But perhaps one of my favorite moments was over dinner, while Aaron and I discussed the idea of adventure. Aaron and I are somewhat kindred spirits, enjoying running and other outdoor activities. Years ago, we had started an “accountability group” (very loosely described as accountability) with some friends. Our first task was to read through the John Eldredge book “Wild At Heart.” I still think this is a great book and recommend every guy read it. We were trying to get to the heart – get it, “heart” – of what it meant to be a guy. Not only a guy, but a Christian guy. And not only a Christian guy, but a Christian guy who truly loved Jesus and wanted to be like him.

Eldredge’s premise is simple: for every man there is a battle to fight, a beauty to rescue, and an adventure to live. It’s part of how God programmed us as men, to want to fight for something, to want to win over a woman, and to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. He talks about these guys who live lives of “quiet desperation”, clocking in and out of their cubicle jobs every day while a part of them dies inside. We all need an outlet for the adventure we are designed for. I’m so thankful to have such a wonderful wife that not only acknowledges that, but encourages it.

So Aaron and I dreamed of what adventures we could live. Running expeditions in the Badlands, backpacking, finding the Tarahumara people in the mountains of Mexico. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been couch-ridden and watching too much soccer and Long Way Round, or maybe it’s the fact that something inside me craves this adventure.

Maybe someday this ankle will get back to near-normal conditions, it’s still hard to tell what’s ankle, what’s foot, and what’s swelling. For now, I’ll just lay off the ice cream.