It's hard to top last night's announcement that we were expecting our seventh child.
Kelsey made the prenatal pilgrimage to the professional today who professed that she positively is pregnant, which we knew. They also prescribed an expensive medication that she will inject into her stomach via syringe every day due to an autoimmune disorder that she has. She did this with Zion as well. Tonight, she took her first injection and found that it burned like fire. I ran downstairs for a minute and came up to find her sitting on the floor of the kitchen, afraid she was going to pass out. In the end, she didn't...but it wasn't fun. She went directly to bed.
In better news, we received an offer on our house last night. After a few back and forths, we landed on a price with the buyer. The home inspection in scheduled for Friday afternoon. All is this fantastic news for us - the current house was short on space and the layout was not conducive to a tribe of our size.
These are interesting days. We are in need of more space. The housing market is such that one could buy more house for less than one might have a year ago, but honestly, it's going to take a miracle to get what we need. Fortunately, we've seen a string of miracles for the past five years.
Since the week before leaving for IHOP, we have been given four vehicles. Granted, the first three had a cumulative total of over a half million miles on them, but they honestly all ran well. I gave two away and sold one. The fourth is the mighty Johnny Cash Tour Bus Edition Suburban that still hauls my entire family (until around July, in which case....uh, I don't have that figured out yet).
Somehow, we have managed to raise a growing family on missions support for five years. People erroneously assume that since we've done it this long we know how to do it. We don't. We send out newsletters, we pray, and God provides, seemingly with very little connection to the newsletters. More than once, we have received large checks days (or even hours) before a large bill was due.
We adopted three infants in less than two years. I still can't fully explain that one.
All that to say God's got the cattle on a thousand hills, and He's going to clear off one of those hills and build us a house. I just know it. There will be room for all seven kids, Kelsey and I, and Grandma B.
Ten people, five ethnicities, three generations, one family.
This feels a little like heaven, and God's going to make sure He's got a place to live.
11.17.2008
11.16.2008
Father Abraham / Had many sons
In case you missed the twitternado earlier tonight (and I understand there are as many as six of you who refuse to use Twitter. That's ok, but you're last one to the Info Buffet), Kelsey and I twittered an announcement that went roughly like this:
@kbohlender - I feel sick....
@rbohlender - You ok? Symptoms?
@kbohlender - Sick to my stomach, tired all the time. Ya know, the usual for the condition.
@rbohlender - That's right folks. @kbohlender has a bun in the oven. this is not a joke.
We found out two days ago that Kelsey is expecting. Yes, it's number 7. Yes, it will mean 4 children under the age of 3. Yes, we know what causes this (although someone told us that if we had a TV, it might not have....).
We are overfreakingjoyed. This is as glorious and in the perfect will of God as any adoption. I have a TON of thoughts around large families and God's plan for the earth. Some will make your head spin, and I hope to blog them soon. Suffice it to say that we're happy. We're laughing maniacally in a way that might suggest we're off our meds, but we're also truly happy.
All things God are good.
Sing it with me now. Father Abraham / Had many sons....many sons had Father Abraham
@kbohlender - I feel sick....
@rbohlender - You ok? Symptoms?
@kbohlender - Sick to my stomach, tired all the time. Ya know, the usual for the condition.
@rbohlender - That's right folks. @kbohlender has a bun in the oven. this is not a joke.
We found out two days ago that Kelsey is expecting. Yes, it's number 7. Yes, it will mean 4 children under the age of 3. Yes, we know what causes this (although someone told us that if we had a TV, it might not have....).
We are overfreakingjoyed. This is as glorious and in the perfect will of God as any adoption. I have a TON of thoughts around large families and God's plan for the earth. Some will make your head spin, and I hope to blog them soon. Suffice it to say that we're happy. We're laughing maniacally in a way that might suggest we're off our meds, but we're also truly happy.
All things God are good.
Sing it with me now. Father Abraham / Had many sons....many sons had Father Abraham
11.14.2008
Adoption v. Abandonment: Court is now in session.
There is a hard to quantify, yet hard to deny reality that the spirit world operates something akin to mathematics at times. Truth works no matter how you approach the equation. X is elusive, yet it is the glory of kings to search it out. And for every positive action or number, there is an equal and opposing reaction.
We are seeing that play out in a very real, very tragic way.
The prophet Malachi delivered an oracle from God describing the time nearing the end of days:
Malachi 4:5,6
Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the LORD. And he will turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers, lest I come and strike the earth with a curse.
We may not agree on what the great and dreadful day of the Lord means in specifics, but most of us agree that a) today isn’t it and b) it’s closer today than it was yesterday. In light of those two points, it would do us all well to take a long, hard look at the things God says are to come.
One of the positives to come will be a great adoption movement - figurative and literal - as the hearts of the generations turn 180 degrees to face one another and the church rediscovers a wholeness lost long ago.
Not many years ago, people primarily adopted because they were unable to conceive. That’s no longer the biggest reason. Increasingly, I’m meeting people who are adopting for more proactive, spiritual reasons - as prophetic declarations of God’s heart for children. I believe is a foreshadowing of Malachi’s promise.
Of course, there is a negative reality as well. Even as the church discovers the spirit of adoption, there is a radical display of child abandonment happening in Nebraska. Not long ago, Nebraska instituted a Safe Haven Law, promising clemency to anyone who, unable to care for a child, would surrender them to a hospital or police station.
The thought was they would safe a number of infants from poor care or abuse. Never in their wildest dreams did they expect what would happen next. Rather than infants being delivered to hospitals by teen parents, children as old as seventeen are being flown across the country and dropped off by parents who are at their wits end as to how to deal with them.
In the past few days alone, three teenagers and a five year old were brought from as far away as Miami, Florida by four different parents. In one case, a 17 year old girl and her 14 year old brother were dropped at an Omaha hospital. When the girl figured out what was happening, she ran way, preferring to face the world on her own than in state custody. Her brother did not go with her. It's hard to tell who got the better deal.
State lawmakers are in shock. "Please don't bring your teenager to Nebraska," Gov. Dave Heineman told CNN. "Think of what you are saying. You are saying you no longer support them. You no longer love them."
There’s no way to tell the conditions from which these kids may be being spared. In some - if not most cases - they actually may be better off in a foster home. I can’t imagine a child living long term with an parent who would prefer to abandon them.
That being said, the greater issue is what this says about our culture. Kids are commodities, not responsibilities. Parenting is a magazine, not a life of sacrifice. When it gets hard, help is only as far away as Nebraska.
Good God, what have we become.
The church must embrace these kids and thousands of others with spiritual and temporal adoption. It will not be pretty, easy, or fun. It will be obedience. They are not the prom queens or football stars we thought we would raise...but their reception by the body of Christ will be the barometer of what will come.
Hear the words of the prophet, and the warning therein.
And he will turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers, lest I come and strike the earth with a curse.
We are seeing that play out in a very real, very tragic way.
The prophet Malachi delivered an oracle from God describing the time nearing the end of days:
Malachi 4:5,6
Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the LORD. And he will turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers, lest I come and strike the earth with a curse.
We may not agree on what the great and dreadful day of the Lord means in specifics, but most of us agree that a) today isn’t it and b) it’s closer today than it was yesterday. In light of those two points, it would do us all well to take a long, hard look at the things God says are to come.
One of the positives to come will be a great adoption movement - figurative and literal - as the hearts of the generations turn 180 degrees to face one another and the church rediscovers a wholeness lost long ago.
Not many years ago, people primarily adopted because they were unable to conceive. That’s no longer the biggest reason. Increasingly, I’m meeting people who are adopting for more proactive, spiritual reasons - as prophetic declarations of God’s heart for children. I believe is a foreshadowing of Malachi’s promise.
Of course, there is a negative reality as well. Even as the church discovers the spirit of adoption, there is a radical display of child abandonment happening in Nebraska. Not long ago, Nebraska instituted a Safe Haven Law, promising clemency to anyone who, unable to care for a child, would surrender them to a hospital or police station.
The thought was they would safe a number of infants from poor care or abuse. Never in their wildest dreams did they expect what would happen next. Rather than infants being delivered to hospitals by teen parents, children as old as seventeen are being flown across the country and dropped off by parents who are at their wits end as to how to deal with them.
In the past few days alone, three teenagers and a five year old were brought from as far away as Miami, Florida by four different parents. In one case, a 17 year old girl and her 14 year old brother were dropped at an Omaha hospital. When the girl figured out what was happening, she ran way, preferring to face the world on her own than in state custody. Her brother did not go with her. It's hard to tell who got the better deal.
State lawmakers are in shock. "Please don't bring your teenager to Nebraska," Gov. Dave Heineman told CNN. "Think of what you are saying. You are saying you no longer support them. You no longer love them."
There’s no way to tell the conditions from which these kids may be being spared. In some - if not most cases - they actually may be better off in a foster home. I can’t imagine a child living long term with an parent who would prefer to abandon them.
That being said, the greater issue is what this says about our culture. Kids are commodities, not responsibilities. Parenting is a magazine, not a life of sacrifice. When it gets hard, help is only as far away as Nebraska.
Good God, what have we become.
The church must embrace these kids and thousands of others with spiritual and temporal adoption. It will not be pretty, easy, or fun. It will be obedience. They are not the prom queens or football stars we thought we would raise...but their reception by the body of Christ will be the barometer of what will come.
Hear the words of the prophet, and the warning therein.
And he will turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers, lest I come and strike the earth with a curse.
Didn't feel that one coming.
I've often mentioned my overall disdain for television. For a hundred reasons, we kind of checked out of TV land about ten years ago, and every time I peak back in, I find a reason to cringe. I'm only saying that to point out the unlikeliness of what's happened.
I have been binge-watching the canceled CBS series Jericho during the twins' late night feeding. By bing-watching, I mean four times a week or so, although I will admit to one or two nights of watching a two-fer. Don't panic, it can't last forever. They only produced two seasons of the show.
This is especially odd given that about a year ago I watched an episode from season two out of context and immediately pronounced it dumb. Don't get me wrong - I still don't think of it as great television. The acting can be bad, but the storyline is intriguing. Essentially, the US is victim of a mass nuclear attack. The plot follows the small, Kansas town of Jericho and how they deal with the aftermath.
All that to say that last night, I watched a scene that hit me far differently than I would have expected. In this particular episode, Johnston Greene, former mayor of the town and patriarch of the Greene family, is shot in a gunfight with a rival town and later dies on a friend's kitchen table with his two grown sons at his side.
His boys, in their early 30's, are stereotypical - the good, dull son who stayed in Jericho and the younger, exciting, slightly bad-boy who returned to redeem himself by knowing the ways of war. Together, these three pulled off one of the most touching death scenes I've ever watched. What surpised me, though, was not their emotions - it was my reaction.
My dad died when I was 28 years old. Knowing full well it was coming, I stood at the foot of his bed and watched the heart monitor flat line. I clearly remember telling Kelsey "I'm too young to not have a dad." Thirteen years later, I still feel that. I miss him every day.
Under normal circumstances, upon seeing this scene, I'd relate to the sons...their emotions, their pain, their loss. Unexpectedly, last night, watching there on the couch with a daughter in arms, I found myself relating to the dying father.
In saying his goodbyes, he grabbed his younger son's hand and whispered "I was too hard on you. I was...too hard on you, son." His dying words - the most intentionally chosen of any man's life - reflected a tenderness and very real pain.
It's interesting that in this case, almost no one would say "I wish I would have been harder on you. I wish I would have punished you. I wish I would have whipped you into shape."
"I was too hard on you." That was his dying emotion...the sum of all feelings regarding his son.
I swallowed hard and relived a few scenes of my own in my head.
We're all living out our death scene, in some respect. Admit it. We're dying. Now or later, we're dying. Why would we talk one way now and another later?
I looked at my boys differently this morning. I know what I want to say to them, and I don't want to wait to say it. It''s far less harsh than it would be if I were going to live in this state forever.
I have been binge-watching the canceled CBS series Jericho during the twins' late night feeding. By bing-watching, I mean four times a week or so, although I will admit to one or two nights of watching a two-fer. Don't panic, it can't last forever. They only produced two seasons of the show.
This is especially odd given that about a year ago I watched an episode from season two out of context and immediately pronounced it dumb. Don't get me wrong - I still don't think of it as great television. The acting can be bad, but the storyline is intriguing. Essentially, the US is victim of a mass nuclear attack. The plot follows the small, Kansas town of Jericho and how they deal with the aftermath.
All that to say that last night, I watched a scene that hit me far differently than I would have expected. In this particular episode, Johnston Greene, former mayor of the town and patriarch of the Greene family, is shot in a gunfight with a rival town and later dies on a friend's kitchen table with his two grown sons at his side.His boys, in their early 30's, are stereotypical - the good, dull son who stayed in Jericho and the younger, exciting, slightly bad-boy who returned to redeem himself by knowing the ways of war. Together, these three pulled off one of the most touching death scenes I've ever watched. What surpised me, though, was not their emotions - it was my reaction.
My dad died when I was 28 years old. Knowing full well it was coming, I stood at the foot of his bed and watched the heart monitor flat line. I clearly remember telling Kelsey "I'm too young to not have a dad." Thirteen years later, I still feel that. I miss him every day.
Under normal circumstances, upon seeing this scene, I'd relate to the sons...their emotions, their pain, their loss. Unexpectedly, last night, watching there on the couch with a daughter in arms, I found myself relating to the dying father.
In saying his goodbyes, he grabbed his younger son's hand and whispered "I was too hard on you. I was...too hard on you, son." His dying words - the most intentionally chosen of any man's life - reflected a tenderness and very real pain.
It's interesting that in this case, almost no one would say "I wish I would have been harder on you. I wish I would have punished you. I wish I would have whipped you into shape."
"I was too hard on you." That was his dying emotion...the sum of all feelings regarding his son.
I swallowed hard and relived a few scenes of my own in my head.
We're all living out our death scene, in some respect. Admit it. We're dying. Now or later, we're dying. Why would we talk one way now and another later?
I looked at my boys differently this morning. I know what I want to say to them, and I don't want to wait to say it. It''s far less harsh than it would be if I were going to live in this state forever.
11.13.2008
Amish Law and Order
In the criminal justice system, the people are entertained by two separate yet equally important groups: the Amish, who presume their own guilt, and the cows, who wear the RFD's.These are their stories.
--------
From the Wired Blog
The Bush administration on Thursday urged a federal judge to dismiss a lawsuit brought by a group of Amish farmers in Michigan claiming RFID chips required on cattle "are a mark of the beast."
The Amish farmers claim Michigan regulations requiring them to use radio frequency identification devices on their cattle "constitutes some form of a 'mark of the beast' and/or represents an infringement of their 'dominion over cattle and all living things' in violation of their fundamental religious beliefs," according to the farmers' lawsuit (pdf) filed in September in U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia.
Listen to Ren...
Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 says - and Kevin Bacon later agreed - that there is a time for all things. A time to be born, to die, to plant, to uproot, to kill, to heal, to tear down, to build up, to weep, to laugh, to mourn and to dance. The message of the passage is not a dismissive ‘stuff happens’, but rather profound ‘stuff happens at certain times, and times change, and other stuff happens’. For crying out loud, I sound like I’m writing The Message.
I’ve been big on the rhythm of life - the idea that things happen in patterns and if you can be patient with the pattern of it, you can sustain life a long time. Fight the rhythm and you’re never happy. Succumb to the rhythm and you find the dance.
That said, I think I’m beginning to find the rhythm again, after having been knocked silly with the schedule of twins + adjusting to having a family of six children (two different things, I’m learning). Adding twins is like having a baby x 2. Oddly enough, that’s the easier adjustment. It takes longer to feed, to diaper, to play....but you know that in a few years, that’s passed and they’re fairly self sustaining. Having 2 babies fades away. Having six kids? Not so much. In four years, when the twins are off playing in the back yard, I'll still have six kids. At least. :)
One of the changes I had to make was in abandoning my beloved 6am in the prayer room. For five years, I kept that post, rarely missing a day. The 4pm has replaced the 6am for the most part, and it would have been easier to get used to driving on the wrong side of the road. Early mornings are now invested in making sure the tribe is up and moving the right direction before I leave Kelsey to hold the fort. I find myself in the prayer room at a strange time, with strange people, less jacked on caffeine and a little more tired than I used to be....
So I’m adjusting. Looking for a rhythm...and it’s all good.
To quote Ren McCormack, “I thought this was a party. LET'S DANCE! “
I’ve been big on the rhythm of life - the idea that things happen in patterns and if you can be patient with the pattern of it, you can sustain life a long time. Fight the rhythm and you’re never happy. Succumb to the rhythm and you find the dance.
That said, I think I’m beginning to find the rhythm again, after having been knocked silly with the schedule of twins + adjusting to having a family of six children (two different things, I’m learning). Adding twins is like having a baby x 2. Oddly enough, that’s the easier adjustment. It takes longer to feed, to diaper, to play....but you know that in a few years, that’s passed and they’re fairly self sustaining. Having 2 babies fades away. Having six kids? Not so much. In four years, when the twins are off playing in the back yard, I'll still have six kids. At least. :)
One of the changes I had to make was in abandoning my beloved 6am in the prayer room. For five years, I kept that post, rarely missing a day. The 4pm has replaced the 6am for the most part, and it would have been easier to get used to driving on the wrong side of the road. Early mornings are now invested in making sure the tribe is up and moving the right direction before I leave Kelsey to hold the fort. I find myself in the prayer room at a strange time, with strange people, less jacked on caffeine and a little more tired than I used to be....
So I’m adjusting. Looking for a rhythm...and it’s all good.
To quote Ren McCormack, “I thought this was a party. LET'S DANCE! “
11.12.2008
Behind the scenes...
I love TheCall. I love what it stands for and how it does it. I also love the off beat things that happen back stage....
We had a large contingency of Catholics join us in California - more than any other event. We also had a Catholic Bishop lead in prayer late in the afternoon. He was a very pleasant little Mexican fellow who patiently waited behind the stage, enduring our multiple schedule shifts until it was his turn.
A few minutes before he went on, he motioned for me to come down off the stage. When I did, he shouted in my ear over the sound of the band. Between the accent and his collar, all I could think of was Nacho Libre.
He said "Dey ask me to not pray to de saints, and not to pray de rosary..."
I nod, not quite sure where this is going. He continues....
"Is it ok if I cast out de devils and bind dem to hell?"
I don't remember what I said exactly, but I assured him that he was correct. No to saints and the rosary, thumbs up to casting out devils and binding them to hell.
That's good theology right there.
We had a large contingency of Catholics join us in California - more than any other event. We also had a Catholic Bishop lead in prayer late in the afternoon. He was a very pleasant little Mexican fellow who patiently waited behind the stage, enduring our multiple schedule shifts until it was his turn.
A few minutes before he went on, he motioned for me to come down off the stage. When I did, he shouted in my ear over the sound of the band. Between the accent and his collar, all I could think of was Nacho Libre.
He said "Dey ask me to not pray to de saints, and not to pray de rosary..."
I nod, not quite sure where this is going. He continues....
"Is it ok if I cast out de devils and bind dem to hell?"
I don't remember what I said exactly, but I assured him that he was correct. No to saints and the rosary, thumbs up to casting out devils and binding them to hell.
That's good theology right there.
11.10.2008
An Open Letter to Barack Obama
November 10, 2008
Dear Mr. President-elect,
After the last election, I wrote to President George Bush. While he never actually acknowledged my letter publicly, I know that he was a big fan of the Google and trust he saw it somewhere.
I don't believe in perfunctory niceties, Senator, so I'll level with you. I voted for the other guy. Actually, I voted more for the lady with the other guy, but that's a whole 'nother letter. Even so, I'm excited for our nation in some respects. It will be interesting to have a president with at least a sliver of coolness. I'm too young to remember JFK, but you're closer to him in iconic standing than any of those I've known. I'm proud of America. We have evolved to a point where an African American can get elected to the highest office in the land. My adopted daughter - African American and Latino descent - is 2 years old and will never remember a time when this was impossible. That is progress for all of us.
No doubt, there are a lot of people clamoring for your attention right now, and that's not likely to slow up much, so I'm going to get right to the point on a couple of things that mean a lot to me. You might want to even bookmark this page. File it under "nutty evangelicals" if it helps you find it again later.
I'm concerned about national security. The past seven years have shown us that there are some very bad people in the world and the reserve a special kind of hate for Americans. I know you've talked about sitting down with certain people who've been labeled terrorists, believing that it's better to talk to our enemies than to ignore them. Please do not oversimplify the world scene to a disagreement between neighbors that can be settled on the patio over a couple of cold ones. I know a lot has gone wrong - particularly in the last four years - but you have to admit, for all the things that blew up and burned down on President Bush's watch, he managed to blow them up or burn them down overseas, not within our borders.
I'm troubled by our financial situation. I'm not horribly concerned about Wall Street, because I'm convinced that most of the value that has been lost on Wall Street was not value at all, but rather hype. Decades ago, a CEO woke up and asked "are we making good widgets?" For the last few years, a CEO wakes up and asks "what's our stock price?" It's a very different perspective that lends itself to an intricate form of gambling where value is derived speculation rather than production. We could stand to get back to producing a few things. What does concern me, though, is people losing jobs or finding themselves upside down with easy credit. I vote you prop up employers as necessary and crack down on ridiculous credit terms. Yes, people should be smart enough to understand the idea of "too good to be true...", but they're not, and to teach them all a lesson the hard way right now is going to make the value of our homes plummet even though we've been responsible enough to make the payments.
I am burdened for the lives of the unborn. My gut says that you have regretted that "above my pay grade" comment you made to Rick Warren since the moment you said it. My gut also says that you have a nagging question....one that arises when you look at your beautiful little girls. In the dark of night, when you slip into their room to take one last peek, I think you hear the whispers in the walls. "Before I formed you in your womb, I knew you... " I won't argue science or religion with you, Mr. President-elect. Just stare hard at your daughters and ask three questions "When did they begin? How do I know? What if I'm wrong?"
Sir, you are in my prayers. You are about to undertake a job that no man would have unless he loved America. I believe that you do. I don't believe you to be any more sinister or righteous than your campaign opponent was, and I will pray for your encounter with the Living God just as I would for whoever else won. May you know Him and experience Him fully, and may your leadership over our nation reflect that encounter.
Sincerely
Randy Bohlender
Dear Mr. President-elect,
After the last election, I wrote to President George Bush. While he never actually acknowledged my letter publicly, I know that he was a big fan of the Google and trust he saw it somewhere.
I don't believe in perfunctory niceties, Senator, so I'll level with you. I voted for the other guy. Actually, I voted more for the lady with the other guy, but that's a whole 'nother letter. Even so, I'm excited for our nation in some respects. It will be interesting to have a president with at least a sliver of coolness. I'm too young to remember JFK, but you're closer to him in iconic standing than any of those I've known. I'm proud of America. We have evolved to a point where an African American can get elected to the highest office in the land. My adopted daughter - African American and Latino descent - is 2 years old and will never remember a time when this was impossible. That is progress for all of us.
No doubt, there are a lot of people clamoring for your attention right now, and that's not likely to slow up much, so I'm going to get right to the point on a couple of things that mean a lot to me. You might want to even bookmark this page. File it under "nutty evangelicals" if it helps you find it again later.
I'm concerned about national security. The past seven years have shown us that there are some very bad people in the world and the reserve a special kind of hate for Americans. I know you've talked about sitting down with certain people who've been labeled terrorists, believing that it's better to talk to our enemies than to ignore them. Please do not oversimplify the world scene to a disagreement between neighbors that can be settled on the patio over a couple of cold ones. I know a lot has gone wrong - particularly in the last four years - but you have to admit, for all the things that blew up and burned down on President Bush's watch, he managed to blow them up or burn them down overseas, not within our borders.
I'm troubled by our financial situation. I'm not horribly concerned about Wall Street, because I'm convinced that most of the value that has been lost on Wall Street was not value at all, but rather hype. Decades ago, a CEO woke up and asked "are we making good widgets?" For the last few years, a CEO wakes up and asks "what's our stock price?" It's a very different perspective that lends itself to an intricate form of gambling where value is derived speculation rather than production. We could stand to get back to producing a few things. What does concern me, though, is people losing jobs or finding themselves upside down with easy credit. I vote you prop up employers as necessary and crack down on ridiculous credit terms. Yes, people should be smart enough to understand the idea of "too good to be true...", but they're not, and to teach them all a lesson the hard way right now is going to make the value of our homes plummet even though we've been responsible enough to make the payments.
I am burdened for the lives of the unborn. My gut says that you have regretted that "above my pay grade" comment you made to Rick Warren since the moment you said it. My gut also says that you have a nagging question....one that arises when you look at your beautiful little girls. In the dark of night, when you slip into their room to take one last peek, I think you hear the whispers in the walls. "Before I formed you in your womb, I knew you... " I won't argue science or religion with you, Mr. President-elect. Just stare hard at your daughters and ask three questions "When did they begin? How do I know? What if I'm wrong?"
Sir, you are in my prayers. You are about to undertake a job that no man would have unless he loved America. I believe that you do. I don't believe you to be any more sinister or righteous than your campaign opponent was, and I will pray for your encounter with the Living God just as I would for whoever else won. May you know Him and experience Him fully, and may your leadership over our nation reflect that encounter.
Sincerely
Randy Bohlender
11.07.2008
Best part of the day....
Best part of the day....introducing Angela Wheeler Solomon to a someone at Crossroads by saying "She used to work for me at the Vineyard."
No matter how hard she protested, the person never really figured out that I wasn't her boss.
No matter how hard she protested, the person never really figured out that I wasn't her boss.
11.06.2008
We need a Pastor Pageant
Live, from the Orpheum Theatre:
Rick Warren v. Billy Graham
If you follow the links, you'll see The Nation has crowned Warren, but CNN tells us Graham is still the reigning pastor. Controversy! Religion! This story has it all.
I suggest a Pastor Pageant with some Sarah Palinesque 'fancy pageant walkin'. Maybe a Funeral-off, baby dedicating for speed, etc. Any ideas?
Rick Warren v. Billy Graham
If you follow the links, you'll see The Nation has crowned Warren, but CNN tells us Graham is still the reigning pastor. Controversy! Religion! This story has it all.
I suggest a Pastor Pageant with some Sarah Palinesque 'fancy pageant walkin'. Maybe a Funeral-off, baby dedicating for speed, etc. Any ideas?
morning ruminations...
The sun is beginning to poke up over the church building across the street that serves as our eastern horizon. It's playing off the gorgeous color that hangs from all of the oak trees lining our street...yellow, orange, red and a color that can only be called redder or Extreme Red Makeover.
Truly, this is the great and terrible season of the oak tree. They are at once a deciduous and apocalyptic sight. At this moment, with my laptop before me and my trusty coffee mug at my side, they are glorious....however, as those leaves continue fall like the stock market, we find the transition between the sacred and profane.
Forerunner School of Ministry freshman had some sort of service hours to do this week. For three days straight, two nice young men showed up at my door at 9am and raked their little hearts out, redefining theological education in the context of night and day yard work.
They would work for 2 to 3 hours, but leaves were falling so fast that even before they left, it was hard to see that they'd done anything (although they managed to rake, mulch and bag TWENTY bags of leaves, saving me hours of work!).
Thanks, guys. Your work is not in vain, even though it appeared as if it were. Now go study Sisyphus with a new understanding.
Truly, this is the great and terrible season of the oak tree. They are at once a deciduous and apocalyptic sight. At this moment, with my laptop before me and my trusty coffee mug at my side, they are glorious....however, as those leaves continue fall like the stock market, we find the transition between the sacred and profane.
Forerunner School of Ministry freshman had some sort of service hours to do this week. For three days straight, two nice young men showed up at my door at 9am and raked their little hearts out, redefining theological education in the context of night and day yard work.
They would work for 2 to 3 hours, but leaves were falling so fast that even before they left, it was hard to see that they'd done anything (although they managed to rake, mulch and bag TWENTY bags of leaves, saving me hours of work!).
Thanks, guys. Your work is not in vain, even though it appeared as if it were. Now go study Sisyphus with a new understanding.
11.04.2008
TheCall meets the UFC
As I mentioned yesterday, we had what shall forever be memorialized as 'the jumper incident' on Saturday night at Qualcomm Stadium in San Diego.
What I did not know was that our own Shelley Paulson photo documented the whole thing. I should have assumed this. She shoots constantly. Actually, I'm grateful, as these are the only recent photos that Shelley has taken of me in which I am not fiddling with my Blackbery.
Here are three shots that give you the general idea.
As you can see, I am about to unleash the wrath on this guy.
Actually, not so much.
Two things surprise me about the photo above. First, that he got much closer to Lou than I thought he did - I thought it all happened center stage, about 10 feet to the right. Also, in my mind, I got there before the security guy did but that's obviously not true. Adrenalin is a funny thing.
By this shot a second or two later, Security was coming out of the woodwork. Several more piled in before it was over. He will not forget this incident.
And here's the end game, as he gets the escort out on the command of Marcos (head of the security detail - black shirt). I get a real kick out of Marcos' finger pointing - "he's outta there!". Meanwhile, Gabe Ahn turns to cue the band - "Na na, Na na na na, hey hey, goodbye!"
What I did not know was that our own Shelley Paulson photo documented the whole thing. I should have assumed this. She shoots constantly. Actually, I'm grateful, as these are the only recent photos that Shelley has taken of me in which I am not fiddling with my Blackbery.
Here are three shots that give you the general idea.
As you can see, I am about to unleash the wrath on this guy.
Actually, not so much.
Two things surprise me about the photo above. First, that he got much closer to Lou than I thought he did - I thought it all happened center stage, about 10 feet to the right. Also, in my mind, I got there before the security guy did but that's obviously not true. Adrenalin is a funny thing.
By this shot a second or two later, Security was coming out of the woodwork. Several more piled in before it was over. He will not forget this incident.
And here's the end game, as he gets the escort out on the command of Marcos (head of the security detail - black shirt). I get a real kick out of Marcos' finger pointing - "he's outta there!". Meanwhile, Gabe Ahn turns to cue the band - "Na na, Na na na na, hey hey, goodbye!"
11.02.2008
TheCall Cali in a nutshell
We spent yesterday at Qualcomm Stadium in support of TheCall California. Of course, now we get the repeated question 'how did it go?', so I'll try and give you the highlights in one fell swoop. Dig Shelley Paulson's excellent photostream here.
Attendance.
Who knows. More than I could count, fewer than I'd hoped. One newspaper said 33,000, and I'd say that's fair. There were a good 8,000 on the field between the end zone and the far 20 yard line, which made for a great feel from the stage, but left some real gaps in the stands. I was encouraged with Jim Garlow's words the night before - that if we come to do business, it really doesn't matter how many show up. That said, I still wish we would have filled it. :)
Peeps
I love TheCall team. You could not buy this kind of loyalty or good attitudes. Digital hats off to the portion of the team who labored in California in advance for the two months leading up to TheCall. We are glad you're coming home. Also good to reunite with Miss Alysha, who served us so well in the office during the regional tour and DC. She's gone off to get an education but took the weekend to fly and be with us, where she worked hard all day long.
Speakers/Prayer Leaders
Love him or hate him, you cannot deny that James Dobson has influenced two generations of American Christians. He and his wife, Shirley, spent a good number of hours on the stage. They were very gracious and kind to anyone who connected with them.
Pat Boone arrived mid afternoon and stayed until the very end, sporting white boots and telling a story about Jimmy Hendrix back in the day. He was a chatterbox in the wings and seemed like a guy I'd like to have lunch with.
Allen Hood shared a chilling dream he had from the Lord, regarding what he called 'the drunkenness of California. It was the most sober moment of the day for me.
The usual cohorts of Lou, Mike Bickle, Dutch Sheets and others were there as well. After doing so many, TheCall has a family feel sidestage. I like that.
Musicians
Straight up, I'm forgetting people. Important people, so I won't bother mentioning most of them and no one feels bad.
I love Radiant - they show up full force and play at 8:30am to 70,000 empty seats and One Supreme Guest. Then they go stand in the crowd and yell and sing and pray and dance like there's no tomorrow. This, friends, is character, and Richy and Jess and Peeps have it. I've got tears in my eyes thinking about it.
I could have listened to Christine Mueller sing her San Francisco song all night long.
Another standout for me was Gabe Ahn. I'd never heard him lead before, but he carried the tired crowd through a raucus set to close the day, including the fastest ever played rendition of "Undignified" ever played.
Oddball
Fifteen minutes before we pulled the plug, near the end of Gabe's set, I was sitting on a gear box on the far right side of the stage. I joked to my peeps "It doesn't seem quite like TheCall because we haven't had to throw anyone out yet."
Three minutes later, on the far side of the stage, some guy leaps the bike rack and climbes up on the stage. The peeps around me later told me me I said something like "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOA!" as I bolted past the guests on stage and raced toward the guy. By this time, he was on his feet and headed for Lou full boogey with a wild look in his eye.
We were set to collide front center stage - I was hoping I could throw him off the front of the stage if necessary. Of course, at this point, something occured to me - that which I was attempting might actually happen. I might actually be the first guy to reach this nut, in which case I wasn't quite sure what was going to happen.
About the time I reach him and go to grab his sweatshirt, a minimum of six security guards (on loan from the International Church of Las Vegas) land on the guy from all sides. Honestly, it might have been eight or ten. All I know is they put a world of hurt on him in a very short amount of time.
With the band still rocking, I glance up at Gabe, who has walked around his monitor and is yelling at the guy "Look at me! Look at me!" Turns out Gabe recognized him and was hoping to calm him down, but once you've rushed the stage and been tackled, it's hard to reenter negotiations as equals. I told the security guys to haul him off, which they did by his belt, pant legs, and ears. Frankly, the whole thing took far less to happen than it did to read - it was so crazy fast.
Today, we attend some meetings and tomorrow, we head back to Middle America so we can vote on Tuesday. As an event, TheCall Cali is in the box. As a value and a movement, it's just begun.
Attendance.
Who knows. More than I could count, fewer than I'd hoped. One newspaper said 33,000, and I'd say that's fair. There were a good 8,000 on the field between the end zone and the far 20 yard line, which made for a great feel from the stage, but left some real gaps in the stands. I was encouraged with Jim Garlow's words the night before - that if we come to do business, it really doesn't matter how many show up. That said, I still wish we would have filled it. :)
Peeps
I love TheCall team. You could not buy this kind of loyalty or good attitudes. Digital hats off to the portion of the team who labored in California in advance for the two months leading up to TheCall. We are glad you're coming home. Also good to reunite with Miss Alysha, who served us so well in the office during the regional tour and DC. She's gone off to get an education but took the weekend to fly and be with us, where she worked hard all day long.
Speakers/Prayer Leaders
Love him or hate him, you cannot deny that James Dobson has influenced two generations of American Christians. He and his wife, Shirley, spent a good number of hours on the stage. They were very gracious and kind to anyone who connected with them.
Pat Boone arrived mid afternoon and stayed until the very end, sporting white boots and telling a story about Jimmy Hendrix back in the day. He was a chatterbox in the wings and seemed like a guy I'd like to have lunch with.
Allen Hood shared a chilling dream he had from the Lord, regarding what he called 'the drunkenness of California. It was the most sober moment of the day for me.
The usual cohorts of Lou, Mike Bickle, Dutch Sheets and others were there as well. After doing so many, TheCall has a family feel sidestage. I like that.
Musicians
Straight up, I'm forgetting people. Important people, so I won't bother mentioning most of them and no one feels bad.
I love Radiant - they show up full force and play at 8:30am to 70,000 empty seats and One Supreme Guest. Then they go stand in the crowd and yell and sing and pray and dance like there's no tomorrow. This, friends, is character, and Richy and Jess and Peeps have it. I've got tears in my eyes thinking about it.
I could have listened to Christine Mueller sing her San Francisco song all night long.
Another standout for me was Gabe Ahn. I'd never heard him lead before, but he carried the tired crowd through a raucus set to close the day, including the fastest ever played rendition of "Undignified" ever played.
Oddball
Fifteen minutes before we pulled the plug, near the end of Gabe's set, I was sitting on a gear box on the far right side of the stage. I joked to my peeps "It doesn't seem quite like TheCall because we haven't had to throw anyone out yet."
Three minutes later, on the far side of the stage, some guy leaps the bike rack and climbes up on the stage. The peeps around me later told me me I said something like "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOA!" as I bolted past the guests on stage and raced toward the guy. By this time, he was on his feet and headed for Lou full boogey with a wild look in his eye.
We were set to collide front center stage - I was hoping I could throw him off the front of the stage if necessary. Of course, at this point, something occured to me - that which I was attempting might actually happen. I might actually be the first guy to reach this nut, in which case I wasn't quite sure what was going to happen.
About the time I reach him and go to grab his sweatshirt, a minimum of six security guards (on loan from the International Church of Las Vegas) land on the guy from all sides. Honestly, it might have been eight or ten. All I know is they put a world of hurt on him in a very short amount of time.
With the band still rocking, I glance up at Gabe, who has walked around his monitor and is yelling at the guy "Look at me! Look at me!" Turns out Gabe recognized him and was hoping to calm him down, but once you've rushed the stage and been tackled, it's hard to reenter negotiations as equals. I told the security guys to haul him off, which they did by his belt, pant legs, and ears. Frankly, the whole thing took far less to happen than it did to read - it was so crazy fast.
Today, we attend some meetings and tomorrow, we head back to Middle America so we can vote on Tuesday. As an event, TheCall Cali is in the box. As a value and a movement, it's just begun.
11.01.2008
10.31.2008
10.28.2008
Comin' at ya...
Here are my homeboys Jonathan Mills and Downtown Steve Brown, just beginning to set up the stage at Quallcom stadium in San Diego. The build is Tues/Wed/Thurs/Fri and Saturday, we rumble! Nice collection of plywood there, Jonathan!
One more shot from present uber-assistant and hospitality princess, Sarah Kim...click it large and you'll see Ali Oop Watkins lower left, workin' the Crackberry.
One more shot from present uber-assistant and hospitality princess, Sarah Kim...click it large and you'll see Ali Oop Watkins lower left, workin' the Crackberry.
10.27.2008
I (heart) This Kid
Zion had a soccer game tonight. This was big stuff, as the rest of the season's games are played on Saturday morning. This was the 7 year old soccer player's equivalent of a Monday Night Football game, minus Hank, Jr. singing "are you ready for some football!!!!"
Notable distinctions of the game included a bitterly cold wind, impromptu wrestling matches on the side lines, and Dwayne Roberts stopping us all in our tracks by yelling at the team "Give'm Hellllllllllp!" It should be noted that at the point of his yelling this, one of our players was getting overrun and needed some assistance, but by the time Dwayne got the 'p' on the end of 'hellllllllllp', Cory Russell and I were staring at him like he was a lunatic cursing a team of 7 year olds.
This is Zion's first season of soccer. He has shocked us all this year with his soccer prowess. This boy, born less than 6lbs light and knicknamed "Peanut" by the nurse, who now exudes a certain rock star cool and trademark dry sense of humor, is dead serious and intense about his soccer skills.
On game days, he puts his jersey on about six hours early. An hour later, he puts on his shin guards....and waits.
During the game, he leans forward - sometimes to the point of putting his opponent on their can in the grass. Tonight he threw a hip hard enough to wipe out a kid considerably bigger than him. They went sprawling on the grass while Zion scooted the ball around them and ran down field.
I would have cheered but it was a girl.
Notable distinctions of the game included a bitterly cold wind, impromptu wrestling matches on the side lines, and Dwayne Roberts stopping us all in our tracks by yelling at the team "Give'm Hellllllllllp!" It should be noted that at the point of his yelling this, one of our players was getting overrun and needed some assistance, but by the time Dwayne got the 'p' on the end of 'hellllllllllp', Cory Russell and I were staring at him like he was a lunatic cursing a team of 7 year olds.
This is Zion's first season of soccer. He has shocked us all this year with his soccer prowess. This boy, born less than 6lbs light and knicknamed "Peanut" by the nurse, who now exudes a certain rock star cool and trademark dry sense of humor, is dead serious and intense about his soccer skills. On game days, he puts his jersey on about six hours early. An hour later, he puts on his shin guards....and waits.
During the game, he leans forward - sometimes to the point of putting his opponent on their can in the grass. Tonight he threw a hip hard enough to wipe out a kid considerably bigger than him. They went sprawling on the grass while Zion scooted the ball around them and ran down field.
I would have cheered but it was a girl.
10.26.2008
Go Dawgs
I just became a Georgia Bulldogs fan, and I don't know jack about football. My friend, Greg, sent me a link to the video below, about University of Georgia head football coach, Mark Richt, and his wife, who adopted two children from the Ukraine, one of which was special needs.
Go Coach. Go Dawgs. Go God.
By the way, this is the 3,000th edition of Stuff I Think, and it's only appropriate that it's centered on the stuff I am thinking about most lately. If you've enjoyed anything of those last 3,000 posts, then watch the video for me.
Go Coach. Go Dawgs. Go God.
By the way, this is the 3,000th edition of Stuff I Think, and it's only appropriate that it's centered on the stuff I am thinking about most lately. If you've enjoyed anything of those last 3,000 posts, then watch the video for me.
10.23.2008
Randomonium: Been a While Edition
Hello friends It's been so long since I blogged that it's tough for me to whittle my thoughts down to one and blog on that, hence this edition of Randomonium.
- We have tipped over from a large family to a mondo sized family...the size of which people make assumptions that you're Catholic, crazy or a member of Posse Comitatus. We are none of the three, but people sure do a double take when we pile out of the Suburban.
- I am not, and will never be, a big fan of cold weather. It's cold and rainy tonight and I'm already looking forward to spring.
- After a great heart connect with Jackson last night, we challenged one another to do something that neither of us would bite off on our own - to memorize the book of James together. I am NOT a memorization savant. I barely remembery my phone number. We landed on this as a way of redeeming those 10 minute sections of the day that one can zone out on - drive time, etc. Now I'm motivated to work on it because I don't want to get to our deadline and find out my son outdid me!
- The last two Sundays' messages have been unbelievable...Daniel Lim is the prayer movement's 007 and Stuart Greaves is smart in languages I can't even recognize. There are more fascinating people at IHOP than most people meet in a lifetime.
- Finally turned over 170,000 miles on my Montero. We've owned it seven years and have driven it from Colorado to Florida to Baltimore and all points inbetween. We wracked up 30k some years but lately haven't added so many. It's my favorite vehicle we have ever owned, even besting the oddball Merkur Scorpio we drove for a while. It's not quite Shawn Blanc's Man Jeep but it'll go nearly anywhere and arrive in style.
10.20.2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
