cow_pastor's Xanga

God Is Here

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 22:29:06 GMT

God is here

Three plane fights into the darkness, flying over the land that I could no longer see I landed once more in my home airport of Des Moines IA at 12:30 am on that cold Friday morning. My exhaustion pushed deep into the tissues of my heart I was ready to be home. All I needed now was to go the baggage carousel and pick up my bag. How sweet it was to watch the bags start their march in and out of the people gathered with me that evening.

I watched with fear and trembling for my bag, looking over each one as it came through the opening in the wall knowing that I surely knew what my bag looked like. I had used this bag on my travels for the last 4 years. I had made 17 trips to 12 different states. I had felt every zipper on each of its openings and had noticed each of its flaws and scars from our journeys together and caused a few of them due to my need for extra stuff that only sort of fit with some highly misplaced nudging. I was one with my baggage.

I looked at each one and starred deep into its ridges with the hope that it would be mine and we could reunite and head home together. On many occasions I would push my way through the crowd to reach for my bag only to realize that it was not mine and apologize for my passionate pushing. Stepping back I would look over the winding luggage again hoping to spot my bag from afar. Several times I was sure I saw it and even reached out and turned the bag over only to not find my name on its back cover. I then started to see or hope that I saw my bag in each of the now remaining abandoned bags being lifted off the moving belt to be stored in the back to await the time when their owners would come and claim them.

In that moment I had to admit that I was not seeing my baggage. I knew then that I was going to have to stand in the line at the desk for lost luggage. Being the optimist I am I said to myself, “Hey, I don’t really need my shaver, medicine, toothbrush, or keys to my house.” I could make do, I could adapt as I often do and besides it was only 1:15 in the morning now. It was still early and I still had 7 hours before I needed to get back up to take my son to school. So I stood in line for help to find my bag.

Nearly 13 minutes ticked by as I waited for help, not that I was now counting the minutes and becoming less and less optimistic. The attendant took my luggage claim tag and put the numbers into the all knowing computer and what should it say… well it did not say anything but the attendant said, “Its saying that your bag was check on to this plane. Are you sure its not one of those bags I just took off the belt?”

So with great embarrassment I walked over to the abandoned bags in my exhausted state and sure enough there with the other 14 black bags was my traveling companion I knew I knew so well. Relieved and glad for the reunion I grasped it with all my strength and headed out the door to my car.

It was now 1:37 according to the clock in my car but at least I was now on my way out of the parking garage heading home. As I headed to the exit ramp I noticed a frail old man pushing his even more frail wife in a wheel chair up and down the parking isles obviously looking for their car. The 8 degree wind was blowing the snow through their coats as they walked and even in my exhausted state I could not just pretend that I had not scene them or believe that someone else would surely help them or force myself to accept that this was not my problem. No, all I could hear is that “God is here!” This one I could not ignore.

I pulled up alongside them and asked if I could help. In short, by the time I did what I could for them it was now 2:15 and I was finally headed home with my well-known luggage that I could not recognize and had not noticed it even though it was their in front of me.

God is Here. How easy that should be to hear. However, I often do not notice or notice too late when God, who I know I know so well, is directly in front of me.

Is it worth the trouble? The Fight?

Mon, 04 Dec 2006 01:22:44 GMT

So I got a fortune cookie the other day that said "Things that are worthy of great leaders are rarely easy to accomplish."

In the beginning of the Disciples of Christ they dreamed and saw the value of a church that would not divide over beliefs/doctrines. It was worth the fight and difficulties that our founders had to endured.

Today I believe the Disciples and the world has continued to divide into our own little groups... conservatives, liberals and so many other groups... We have lost relationship with one another and more important we have begun to fear each other. We have lost the vision and purpose and need for a church that values relationships over being right. Many of our ministers and churches exist as Disciples in name but would not say that they feel they have a strong enough and safe enough relationship with others (particularly with Regional Ministers) to share what they believe.

Perhaps it not worth the trouble? It is so overwhelming to think what must be done to reestablish the dream? If we as members of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) cant truely live out this dream than who can? It is just too much, too many plates to spin, too many people to please, too many friendships to form, too many attacks to listen to, too many theological perspectives to connect, too many stories of pain and exclusion to hear, too many ways any unity attemp can go wrong . . . it is just easier to let this church of ours die over the next few decades...

If only I could that... but I will not give up on this dream... I cannot be faithful to my call without my brothers and sisters who differ from me in theology, I cannot ever say that I have no need of them... I cannot give up ... I will find a way to help reclaim the dream... My son is 8 and I refuse to leave a world for him to grow up in that knows only division... I will fight to make the dream come true... how about you?

The Big Sneeze

Mon, 27 Nov 2006 04:13:21 GMT

It was a fairly normal Sunday afternoon late lunch with the family today. Tristan and I met up with Amy following worship for lunch at our favorite Oriental place. Tristan was taking his last lick of his ice cream cone, Amy was finishing up her desert choice and I was taking my last bite of salt and pepper chicken. The owner was cleaning off the table beside us while behind us there was a large family having a good time laughing with each other and in the back corner there was a sweet elderly couple having a calm lunch together. In one unexpected moment I inhaled too much pepper and sneezed! Well, in words I cant quite explain it. I sneezed so quickly and so loudly that the owner jumped off the ground about 12 inches and look straight at me as if I was possesed. The large family behind us froze in their convesation and Tristan said that several of the family members jumped out of their chairs and the elderly couple both through their egg rolls up in the air and let out a little squeek. Time was suspended just for a moment as I opened my eyes from my sneeze to notice everyone looking at me and my family bursting into uncontrollable laughter. Even now as I type this I keep laughing... Emarrassment is good sometimes particularly when it helps provide a good source of deep and meaningful joy that I will be able to share for sometime to come....

A Dream

Thu, 23 Nov 2006 02:12:01 GMT

Some say that I am a dreamer . . .

I pray tonight for vision and courage for soon the church I know will need to change. There are some who don't know why it needs to change and some who do not know what it would change into if it could. There are some too young and involved with their own daily travels to give thought or energy to changing a thing they barely know. There are others who seek to keep it the same because even though it is dying it is all they know. There are even those who control the church's path because it serves them well even if that means using up all its resources on themselves. And yet there are others who see a church that cannot die for its value is greater than one generation... it is a church that MUST change and thrive and give hope to so many...yet often these people do not have the power to change it...

Perhaps in the end I must simply trust God to bring about the change... If only I were that passive... I am surely one who believes in God working through us... Let the revolution begin and the dreams continue!

Hugging a Board Game!

Wed, 04 Oct 2006 23:50:31 GMT

I was asked recently to write about why camp was so important to ME. What I came up with was a story about how I ended up hugging a wooded box! Here is that story!

Sometimes when memories come flooding back to me of camp at the Christian Conference Center I shrink to a shorter, thinner, less complicated young teenager who was beginning to understand a little more about God and who I was as a human being. It is normally the mundane things that trigger these memories – A piece of blackened wood, a long lost trail, a view of an open field. I have, since those teenage years, counseled at several other church camps across this country but none have triggered the feeling of calm and focus that occurs during these retro-moments of life.

However, I have never felt the tug to hug an inanimate object like I did during a Monday cleaning session in October. Seven years had gone by and never once did I attempt to turn over what looked to be a box- step designed to help people reach a higher shelf in the “paper closet.” Out it came, a 2 by 4 foot box made of plywood. It was placed on one of our round dining tables, dirt and cobwebs intact. When my eyes first caught a glimpse of this game I immediately reverted back to a time when I stood before it, pulled the string and let the spindle like device bounce from wall to wall randomly seeking a place to stop moving.

In that moment, I fell to my knees and I reached out and gave it hug. A hug – That’s right, Bill Spangler-Dunning, known to be frugal with hugs, hugged an inanimate object. On my knees with cobwebs now in my hair I found myself reflecting on all the things that have made me who I am today. I thought of counselors who had given me advice or simply believed in me enough to tell me I was destined to do something wonderful with my life. I relived in my mind full campfires in which directors told stories of their lives and how if they could get me to remember only one thing it was that God Loves You! I pictured again the very moment that I felt God give me a plan for my life and it occurred during my 8^th grade year at Chi Rho Camp. I remembered friends whom I wish even to this day that I could see again.

What does camp mean to me? It means my whole life! I have done and will do many more things in my life time but Camp at the Christian Conference Center will continue to be at the center and the heart of all of them.

Monday, December 05, 2005

Mon, 05 Dec 2005 03:38:21 GMT

All I want to be is a hero! I want to make a difference in peoples lives. My parents named me William Francis. Not a name I particularly have loved over the years but I have been facinated by the fact that these two names together mean Protector of the Free. I don't really know if it really means anything but I still wish to be hero in the sense of making a difference.

I want to make a difference in my sons life--from teaching him math skills and the ability to read so fast that he tested 50 points higher than the scale measured... I want to teach him to care with his heart as well as to excel with his mind. I want to teach him to be better than his father and yet with the ability to forgive himself when he finally realizes that he his not perfect.

I want to make a difference... Much more I would like to be a hero for... Doesn't everyone?... I hope so...

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Sun, 27 Nov 2005 04:33:26 GMT

The Annual Gathering is scheduled for December 27th at CCC. I hope you can all attend. Overnight accomadation will be provided and we will arrange our food together... Hope to see you all there. Trail plans will be made during this retreat. Bring your cups it will be your ticket to attend.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Mon, 21 Nov 2005 02:29:12 GMT

Tristan experienced his first death this week. In the middle of very important conversation about a super significant adult issue Tristan looked at me and said daddy "Spongebob" died!"

First "Spongebob" is one of Tristans two hermit crabs! He noticed that SB was out of his shell and then he turned to us and told his that he was dead. He then bowed his head and said, "Ill miss him. I think we should burry him!" Ok dad, let go put him in the ground.

He was clearly moved but approached the whole thing as a series of appropriate responses. Such a Thinker in training.

Friday, October 28, 2005

Fri, 28 Oct 2005 02:02:14 GMT

It is difficult to maintain focus and spiritual health when so much unrest unfolds around me these days. In truth I have rarely been happier. I have set boundaries as to what I will do and will not do with my time. I protect the time I have with my family and the time that I rest. The ministry I live out these days is growing in strength. Im in the best shape I have been in for more than a decade. I do my best to serve God in my calling.

And yet I do not live unto a world of my own. How does a person know if it is time to speak up to help a revolution or remain apart from the revolution in order to provide a sense of hope and calm after the unrest has passed by. There is a time for both but which to choose? By nature I am the latter... I am the meadiator who wishes to protect all but I am not a passifist. I envy sometimes my wife who is indeed a person who believes always in peace and never a revolution. My heart and mind lives somewhere in between. May my choices do as little harm as possible but choices I will makes soon for I will not let others choose for me!

Monday, October 24, 2005

Mon, 24 Oct 2005 00:51:54 GMT

Well the Moderator of the Upper Midwest Region has resigned. Wish I could say more but I guess it is enough to note that when you try to make changes those who are for status quo and in charge can make it difficult.