A Crowd-Sourced Christmas

In the beginning, there was just Mary. As Christmas lawn decorations go, Mary is precious. It’s because she’s a hand-me-down, a gift from Amy’s grandmother. The kids love Mary, a deer with her multi-light display. She’s a holiday institution at the Dixon house.

This year, someone decided that Mary was lonely. It all started about a week ago, when we woke up one morning to a narwhal plugged in out front. Yes, a narwhal. We shook our heads with wonder, named her Nelly, and wracked our brains about who our mystery Santa might be.

Since then, Mary and Nelly have been joined by yet more friends. First someone gave Mary a pen of candy cane fencing. Then, we got a Candy Cane Lane street sign. Next, I was reading a book to our littlest Dixons one night when, all of a sudden, Lily noticed flashing red and green dots on the ceiling. We rushed out front, thinking that perhaps we would find a chorus of laser-pointing neighbors out front. Instead, we found one of those projection light display units.

Christmas eve eve brought us a flamingo, a real Christmas tree, and an inflatable weiner dog. Christmas morning, we woke up to lights in our bushes, lights along our pathways, bells on our doorknob, and bows all over our garage door.

I’ll be honest. At first, the whole thing freaked me out. The idea that renegade neighbors, or co-workers, or kids’ friends, or whoever, were setting up stuff in our front yard in the dead of night made me anxious. The kids and I contemplated video surveillance, lookouts by shifts, or a stakeout in the van out front.

But I’ve come around. The rapturous looks on the kids’ faces each morning have helped with that. But it’s become fun for us parents as well. Because someone cares about our family. And they’re expressing that care in a fun and tangible way. We're the beneficiaries of someone's generosity. And this has made our Christmas wonderful.

Let’s face it. 2017 hasn’t been easy. The national news has been full of drama and angst, and we’ve had our share within the walls of our home. As a family, we’ve hit the Christmas break weary, physically and emotionally. 

Because of this, we are choosing to receive the beautiful generosity from our unknown benefactor(s) with joy. I’m thinking the world needs more renegades out there decorating lawns, not less. 

So, to whoever you are: a hearty thank you from the Dixon family. You’ve made our Christmas better. You’ve made it memorable. You’ve brought us joy.

Thank you. And Merry Christmas!

Jim Dixon, Teacher and Uncle

Last Wednesday night, I got the horrible news of my Uncle Jim’s sudden passing. 

To me, Jim has been a lot of things over the years: 

A loving uncle, with loud “HEY ROB"s and crushing bear hugs to match.

A cheerleader during my time on staff with InterVarsity.

A model for me for what fruitful ministry should look like (Jim planted and then pastored Cherry Hills Community Church for decades). 

On top of all of that, around 18 and a half years ago, in a church in Arroyo Grande, CA, Uncle Jim pronounced Amy and I as married. 

Still, as I’ve been reflecting on Uncle Jim’s life and ministry this week, I’ve been most struck by his wonderful, God-given ability to teach the Bible. Indeed, for me, Uncle Jim’s life and ministry illustrates the mighty power of a well-stewarded teaching gift. 

Three things stand out to me about Jim’s teaching gift and how he used it.

First, Jim demonstrated a reverence for Scripture. Even though he was extraordinarily gifted in preaching and teaching the Bible, he never lost his reverence for the Word. For Jim, the Bible was at once something to be cherished and respected. One way that Jim’s reverence for the Bible got expressed was that he would memorize the passage he was preaching out of every week. You read that right! Every week, Jim would stand to preach and begin by reciting the text BY MEMORY. Who does that?!? But here's the thing...by knowing the text well enough to recite it by memory, Jim demonstrated his knowledge of and reverence for the Word of God, and I know his example helped the congregation take the text more seriously in their own hearts and minds.

Next, Jim’s stewardship of his teaching gift led him to create innovative sermons marked by wonderful story-telling. Somehow, Jim’s encyclopedic brain was able to collect, retain and recall a litany of illustrations that made the text come to life. Want a sense of Jim’s nimble mind and his sense of humor? When Jim preached at our wedding, he used the acronym U.N.C.L.E. to describe how Amy and I should live out our marriage before the Lord (for the record, “C” stood for “Christ, in the center” and I’m pretty sure “N” was “need.” After that’s it a bit murky...sorry Jim!). After the ceremony, Jim’s son Drew came up to him and said something like “Dad, when you officiate my wedding, I want you to use the acronym D.O.R.K.” Hearing this, Jim paused for a couple of beats—really, the perfect length of time—and, with a grin, said, “Well, son, 'D' stands for 'devotion to Christ,' 'O' stands for….” and I’m positive he could have kept going, much to my cousin’s chagrin. One time I asked him why his sermons are so full of Greek and SAT caliber vocabulary words. His answer? Cherry Hills is located in one of the most educated counties in America, and so he wanted to reach people where they are at. Wow, what a gift Jim give his congregation each Sunday!

Third, Jim stewarded his teaching gift with humility. I didn’t get to hear Jim preach that often, but every time I did, Jim would pray the words of Psalm 19:14 before he started teaching. The text reads: "May the words of my mouth and this meditation of (our hearts) be pleasing in your sight, Lord, (our) Rock and my Redeemer.” And he meant those words, every Sunday morning. Last week, when I got the news of Jim’s passing, I happened to be in the middle of week of teaching the Bible. In fact, that next morning, I was to teach the text in 1 Timothy 2, a tough passage. Almost involuntarily, I found myself praying (by memory!) the words of Psalm 19 that morning before we got started. Uncle Jim, thanks for modeling humility in teaching. Thanks for recognizing that right teaching is worship of Jesus.

Through it all, God used Jim’s well-stewarded teaching gift to draw thousands of people closer to Jesus. The proof is in the testimonies, which have been many on social media. And all of this helps me understand perhaps the biggest lesson from my Uncle Jim’s life and leadership; namely: 

When God gives you a gift, use it to the best of your ability, out of reverence for Jesus.  

May this be so in my life and leadership, in greater and greater measure!

Thanks Uncle Jim. I’ll miss you. Well done, good and faithful teacher!

A Lap Around New York City

Well, put marathon #3 in the books. This time it was the iconic New York City Marathon, held yesterday on the streets of New York. I thought I would offer a couple of reflections on the experience. 

What a town. I mean, I’ve enjoyed my other two marathons, in San Diego and Fresno/Clovis. It was fun to see those cities on foot. But, with all due respect, those two fine cities pale in comparison to New York. It’s an amazing place. We ran over not one but two mile-long bridges. We saw the UN building. We toured Brooklyn. We spent about 15 minutes in the Bronx. We ran past the Met, the Guggenheim and what seemed like 25 other museums. We finished running through Columbus Circle and, finally, into Central Park. Through it all, we probably touched 100 different cultural groups. Nothing beats New York!

What a crowd. After careful consideration, I think that “deafening” is the right word to describe the cheering at several sections of the course, most notably North Brooklyn, 1st Avenue right after the Queensboro Bridge and 5th Avenue just before you turn right into the park. It’s impossible not to give it your all when there is that much passion flowing your way!

Next time, better training. I had a tough onramp to this year’s marathon, and it showed. My longest run turned out to be just 13 miles, in August. Not good. And so my left calf spasmed for the first time around mile 10, and by mile 18 both legs were on fire. There was a good deal of walking, shuffling and jogging through the end of the race. Let's just say there's a reason why I'm posting a picture from EARLY in the marathon and not LATER!

I dug deep. Because of the lack of training, this was a marathon to be endured. After realizing at one point that I had a chance to keep my time under 5 hours, I muscled up and ran the last 3 miles. It was painful, but it made getting the medal around my neck all the sweeter! Oh, and I should be able to walk right again by about Christmas...

Running is better with a friend. A big shout-out to my running stud of a friend Adam, who had no business running alongside an old, out-of-shape forty-something. When my calf seized up, he said, “We’re in no rush here. Let’s stop and stretch it.” Who says stuff like that when the clock is running?!? A good buddy. Thanks Cleary.

We’re famous. At one point, in Brooklyn, we noticed a camera crew doing an interview with a runner while in motion. So, naturally, we got in the shot and hammed it up. Cue a barrage of text messages and screen shots from friends and family. Ethan Hawke, you weren’t the only celeb on the streets of New York yesterday!

So put marathon #3 to bed! What’s next? London? LA? Hmm...

Reflecciones

In another lifetime, Amy and I led teams of college students on short-term missions projects. 

There was the 6 week Los Angeles Urban Project in the summer of 1995, a 5 week project in Guatemala in 2001 and then another trip to Guatemala, this time for 2 weeks, with our then 16 month old son in tow, in 2003. 

And we loved each trip. Why? Because each time God was faithful to bring transformation. Sometimes, that meant transforming the lives of the poor, as when we did a habitat build or volunteered in a school or a clinic. But more often, it meant transformation in the lives of our students. The old adage is that students change more on short-term projects than in an entire year on campus. And our experience has testified that that is indeed the case.

Following our trip in 2003, we decided to take a break. From leading teams but not from sending them. By God's grace, over the last decade or more, we've been a part of sending out teams every summer, to the Dominican Republic, to Mexico City, to Sarajevo in Bosnia and to inner city Fresno. Simply put, missions are in our blood. 

But in 2003 things had changed. We were just starting our family, and my move away from direct campus ministry meant that we had a smaller pool of students to recruit from. Ultimately, we decided that we'd go again when our youngest turned 5. 

Last October, Lily turned 5. And the wheels started spinning.

Two days ago, we got back from leading 8 students for a 2 week outreach to Costa Rica with a fantastic organization called Students International. This time, we led as a family. Once again, God was faithful and plenty of transformation happened. Here are a few short reflections from the trip:

1. Short-term missions trips with kids are a blast. Was it a ton of work? Yes. After all, it's one thing to herd college students from point A to point B. Add in our 4 kids and it felt like the work was doubled or even tripled. Still, it was awesome to experience the trip as a family. Give family missions trips 12 thumbs up from the Dixon family.

2. It was great for the students to see us function as a family. Warts and all. Many of our college students grow up in broken (too mild a word?) homes. How will they ever know how to be married, or to parent? Trips like this. At one point, a student came up to us and remarked about what a gift it was to see our family in action. Praise God for (mostly!) healthy models.

3. Our kids had their eyes open to the plight of the poor. If you ask Lucy what she learned on the project, she'll say "I can't believe that kids in Los Guido only eat one meal a day." Could I have told her that at home in Clovis, CA? Yes, and she probably would have believed me. But, this summer, she experienced it. She saw, heard and touched the very kids who would be going hungry later that evening. Amy and I are desperate to raise kids who are global Christians, and we feel like we took a big step forward in achieving that this summer.

4. Our family's spirituality was challenged to go deeper. One afternoon, Grace hit her head on some razor wire. Razor wire. And there was blood everywhere, including on my neck as I carried her into a nearby bathroom. By God's grace, one McDonald’s sundae and a bandage later, she was fine. But the experience took us deeper spiritually as a family. One image I won't soon forget is Lucy placing her hand on Grace's shoulder and asking Jesus to heal her. 

5. Amy and I were challenged to parent by faith. Because, if we’re honest, sometimes we parent out of fear; this summer, we gained a vision for parenting out of faith. It takes faith to send your son off to a ministry site without you, even if you trust the folks he’s going with. It takes faith to trust that your injured daughter is going to be OK after being cut by Costa Rican razor wire. It takes faith to push your kids to eat whatever is put in front of them in a foreign country. And more. Let’s face it; there’s a lot to be afraid of out there. This trip reminded us that when it comes to our parenting, God is in control.

6. This summer, we learned a thing or two about hospitality. In general, I think we're a pretty hospitable family. We love hosting, serving and blessing others. But, wow, our host mother took it to another level. The deluge of food was overwhelming and we had to eventually ask her to curtail the quantity. And after we left for each ministry day, she would go into her room and pray for us. On top of that, when it was time to go, she out-gifted us! Costa Rican culture relishes the role of host, and we'll try to emulate that more closely when we get home.

7. Another thing about Costa Rican culture is that it's a celebratory one. And, with their national team's run to the World Cup quarterfinals, there was plenty to celebrate! The news estimated that a quarter of the country's population showed up to welcome the team home. It was incredible. There is a warmth and a joy to Tico culture that, frankly, we could do with more of in our home. 

8. Once again, we were reminded that heart-level connections can transcend culture. My new amigo Rafa and I seemingly have little in common. He's a Tico, I'm an American. He's poor, I'm not. He's been incarcerated, I haven't. He speaks Spanish, I…try. And more. But it was powerful to realize this summer that the things we have in common burn through the differences. In particular, we each have a heart for ministry and a call from the Lord. And so it was a profound joy to recognize a kindred spirit, even in the midst of a significant set of differences. 

9. Speaking of speaking Spanish, I had a powerful experience on day 2, where it felt like all of the Spanish I’d learned over the course of my life suddenly and powerfully came back to me. It was like someone flipped a switch and I was (sort of, kind of, not really) bilingual again. I had prayed for that, so I received it as a moment of God’s grace.

10. We experienced the power of friendships. Long-term, as in my friendship with the Students International country director. And short-term, as in our girls connecting right away with his kids. It was amazing to watch the kids become best friends basically instantaneously. One minute, they were two groups of siblings and the next, they were a tribe of American kids running wild around Costa Rica. 

11. Finally, this trip reminded us that student ministry, particularly in a short-term missions setting, is still the place for us. Sign us up. Again. Still. One student we worked with is a soon-to-be leader on her campus. What a privilege to challenge her to consider places where she and others can grow. It’s a joy to know that our summer investment will bear fruit on campus this Fall!

Thanks for reading, and thanks for those of you who prayed and gave to make this trip possible!

The Streak is Over!

As many of you know, I was running through Lent. Two previous posts, here and here. 

In the end, I blew past Lent and ran til my 42nd birthday on the 24th. 

First, let me say thanks to everyone for checking in on me and for cheering me on. It's been fun to have this experience be a little bit communal.

About midway through I blogged some reflections. Here at the end of the streak I'll offer a couple more:

1. Some days it was easy to connect with Jesus (what it was supposedly all about), but sometimes, if I'm honest, it was more about keeping the streak alive. I suppose all streaks are that way, driven by a cause but, from time to time, kept going only by the strength of their own momentum.

2. I was reminded that I really, really like to run. That it gives me life. That it creates space for me to be alone. And with Jesus. That I flat out have a better day when there is a run involved. Rob running is a win for everyone around me!

3. In the end I ran for 52 consecutive days and clocked a total of 83.3 miles. That comes out to 1.62 miles per day. And, to use a running term, I negative splitted. In other words, in the latter half of the streak I ran more per day than in the first half. 

4. When it was supposed to be done, I just knew it. Like, I had a sense that it was OK for this thing to be over. In fact, I think I was actually supposed to finish on my birthday, the 24th, when I put in a tenth of a mile for each year of my life. I ran on the 25th just to confirm that fact, and confirm it it did!

Lastly, think some good thoughts on Thursday. Last time I left you hanging, but I'll be heading into surgery on the 1st to repair my left meniscus. What will follow is 6 weeks of recovery, and then I'll be running again. 

Heck, maybe I'll try another streak. 

About that Lenten Running Thing...

So, 24 days ago I started running for Lent. My commitment was to run at least one mile each day between Ash Wednesday and Resurrection Sunday.

How do running and Lent fit together for me? I blogged it here, but this is my short answer:

Running helps me make space for God, and that's the point of Lent.

24 days in now, I'm happy to report that I've indeed run each day of Lent thusfar. Honestly, that feels like a minor miracle.

So allow me a few reflections, now that I'm about halfway done:

1. I've rediscovered the joy of running in the morning. I can think of 4 or 5 runs that happened before 7. That's atypical. For the most part, it's been me getting in the miles before the full days starts, but honestly I've loved it. It's quiet, cool, oh, and there's this amazing thing called a sunrise! The only bummer? Dew. Lots of dew.

2. Not all of these runs have been pretty. All told, I've done 23 Lenten runs (I have yet to get out today), for a grand total of 34.48 miles. That comes out to 1.499 miles per run. In other words, many days I'm just getting in my mile. The absolute epitome of this was my 1.02 mile run on March 21. Believe it or not, I ran about 35 laps around my backyard. What can I say? I had 10 minutes before the next March Madness game!

3. I've run exactly 0 miles with another person. This has been a solo pursuit, partly by choice. After all, I'm making space for God. On the other hand, one of the things I love most about running is sharing a good run. Can't wait to get back to that.

4. I've gone local. I've done 20 of my 23 runs at the kids' elementary school, which is a half mile from our house. I like running at the school because it's grass, it's free from cars and I know the distances well enough to be able to let my mind wander.

5. This Lenten streak is a powerful motivator. I have really enjoyed the rhythm of a daily run. This is the most days I've run in a row since perhaps high school, and I've loved it. And it's compelling; I think it would take a lot (of pain, or busy-ness, or travel) for me to miss a day. The one potential upcoming glitch is that I'm chaperoning a three day field trip in early April. Will I be able toget out and run? We'll see.

Lastly, about that knee. On some runs, it's no problem. On others, it's a hot, sore mess.

Four days ago, I went to the Sports Medicine specialist and they had a look. Nothing obvious, though they did mumble something about the meniscus. But they sent me off to the MRI machine and this morning I spent a half hour in the magnetic tube.

So now I wait for the results. In the meantime…

I'm going running.

What I'm Taking on for Lent

We all know--and many of us ask ourselves--the standard Lenten season question:

"What are you giving up for Lent?"

And the answer to this question is usually something like chocolate. Or eating meat. Or Facebook. Or something else that we really like that we choose give up during the season between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday.

This year, I decided to try to answer a different question.

"What should I take on for Lent?"

And the answer?

Running.

Let me explain.

Over the last several years I've done a lot of running. Like a few thousand miles. Like two marathons and a dozen or so half marathons. Like about, oh, 75 pounds. Running has been one of the favorite parts of my life.

Unfortunately, with the running has come injuries. Calves. Ankles. And, time and again, knees. In fact, for the last year I've been largely incapacitated because of pain in my left knee.

Recently, I've been running again off and on. A combination of anti-inflammatories, ice, stretching and smart running have helped me. So has a couple of visits to the doctor, with a trip to a specialist pending.

So that's been better, but, still, I've missed the sanctuary of getting out by myself, thinking, praying, and enjoying a good run.

So, for Lent, I decided I would run. Every day. For at least 1 mile.

The Lenten season is about making space for God. As this article puts it:

"Fasting also helps us clear a space for God’s work in our lives. Our brains can become so crowded with the stuff we seek and the things we need to do that there is no room for Jesus. Lent is the season for “doing your chores”—for cleaning out the gunk that accumulates when we turn away from God and refocusing ourselves on him. Giving something up, even temporarily, helps us do this."

So how, you ask, is running every day during Lent helping me to make room for Jesus?

Three thoughts.

First, it's really true that when I run I'm a happier person. There is a noticeable difference in my attitude (for the better) on days when I've been out running. Lent is a season for being more like Jesus; isn't being a more joyful person consistent with that aim?!?

Second, getting out on the trail provides me with space to pray, think and reflect. And that's in good part what Lent is all about as well.

Finally, running on my balky knee is forcing me to take seriously how I pace my day. I'm not 18 anymore! And so I need to make space for things like stretching and icing. So running every day during Lent is helping me to take my day at an easier pace.

So what am I giving up for Lent? I suppose you could say it's a sedentary life. I mean, I'm hoping to give up some pounds! Or perhaps I'm giving up giving into my injuries. Or, maybe, I'm giving up living life at a rushed pace.

But, for me, it's not what I'm giving up during this Lenten season.

It's about what I'm gaining.

We are the Family that Walks

This morning, I'm happy to be on my friend Adam Jeske's blog, Executing Ideas, reflecting on our family's obsession with walking. You can find the post here.

And here's a sample:

In our neighborhood, we are known as the family that walks.

Some think we’re crazy and others admire us. All of them see us and every day our reputation grows. We walk when it’s warm. We walk when it’s cold. We walk when we’re early, rushed, or on time. We walk in a pack or in smaller groups. Sometimes we take the long way, other times we take the shorter route. And it’s not uncommon to see us speed-walking like Olympians (’cause when you’re a competitive family of six, no one wants to be the last one to the corner).

Heck, to others it must seem like our goal is to drive as little as possible.

Come to think of it, they’re right.

In his book Never Mind the Joneses, Tim Stafford articulates the idea of a “family culture.” He writes,

“Family culture creates the wonderful sense of relaxation we get inside our own four walls…Here, and only here in the heart of the family, does everybody understand. Here we have a sense of freedom to be just who we are.”

So let it be said: who we are is a family of walkers. It’s our culture. It’s our nature.  

Our Picture Wall

One of my favorite Dixon family Christmas traditions is putting pictures up on our wall. Maybe you do this too?!?

When we get holiday picture cards in the mail from our friends and family, up they go on our family room wall. And so for the duration of the season, the ever-growing wall of smiley faces is a reminder that we are relationally blessed. 

A few days ago, as I looked at the pictures, I was struck by the diversity up on our wall. Because not only are we blessed, we are particularly blessed in the breadth of diversity represented by our relational base. 

Here are four ways we experience that diversity.

First, we've got friends from all of the eras of our lives. 

Really, the wall is like a walk through Dixon family history. There are family friends that go back for generations. There are childhood friends. There are friends from college, friends from our ministry years in SLO, friends from the mid 2000s when we were just getting started as a family here in Fresno, and more recent friends from just down the street. It's fantastic to stare at the wall and remember the goodness of God expressed through a lifetime of friends. 

Second, we've got friends and family from all sorts of ethnic backgrounds. 

There are Asians, African Americans, Latinos and more on our wall. It's a beautiful mosaic. We love being a part of an ethnically diverse community, one that reflects the Revelation 7 community we'll all be a part of in heaven.

Third, we've got friends around the world. 

This year, we got pictures from France, England, Bosnia and Canada. It blows the kids' minds that we get pictures from that far away, and I love it that they feel that way. After all, we're trying to raise up globally minded kids!

Fourth--and this hit me most powerfully--there's a vast diversity of experience represented by the pictures on our wall. 

Many of the pictures came with notes and letters, and the letters tell the stories of this year. Our community has experienced loss this year. And pain. And heartache. But also joy. New kids have been born. Others have grown up and gone to college. It's as if our seasonal picture wall demonstrates the entire emotional range of human experience. 

Merry Christmas everyone!

Some Thoughts on Family Machines

A buddy of ours calls it "the machine."

He's talking about his family system, all the structures, relationships and commitments that govern their days. 

And when he and I compare notes about our family machines, more often than not we do so with an air of resignation, as if to say, "what are you going to do? You're either on the machine, or it's running you over." Honestly, most of the time, talk about the machine is followed by a rueful sigh. 

It's true that some family machines are bigger and more complex than others. To be sure, the size and intricacy of a family's machine is proportional to the number of children, socioeconomic status, the parents' situations and a myriad of other factors. No two family's machines are alike.

Around our house, the Dixon machine is quite robust. In our machine we've got cogs that carry labels like school, soccer, volunteering, grad programs, basketball camp, church, jobs, family game night, sabbath, school plays, homework, play dates and 10 other things that I'm too tired to remember.

It's enough to make your head spin. 

Like my buddy says, it can feel like you either get on the machine or get run over. Still, we've learned some surprising things about our family's machine over the years:

1. You get the machine, like it or not. I mean, every family gets a machine. It just comes with the territory of living in American culture. OK, you could live off the grid in the woods I suppose, but even then you'd develop some kind of machine (milk the cows, draw water, check the solar panels, convert vegetable oil into fuel for your car, etc.). So, better to accept the reality, early on, that your family will establish an ever-evolving and highly developed machine. 

2. The machine can be controlled. You may not feel like it very often, but you actually have control over the machine. And you know what your primary mechanism is for this? SAYING NO. Turning down opportunities, saying no to the many possibilities for how your family will spend its time, is the only way to keep the machine manageable. Please understand, saying no is extremely difficult. In fact, it's almost impossible. After all, saying no means fewer opportunities for your children to achieve and excel. Saying no means less time for you as parents (after all, more things for the kids to do equals more me-time!). Saying no means fewer things to boast about in conversations after church, in Christmas cards and on college essays. And yet saying no, being truthful about what you can and can't do, is precisely what's needed if you're interested in sanity and margin. Ultimately, saying no is the only thing that can keep the machine healthy. 

3. It doesn't take much for the machine to malfunction. Most of the time, the machine feels overwhelmingly strong, but the truth is that it's surprisingly fragile. It's easy to topple. All it takes is a poorly planned doctor's appointment. Or someone traveling. Or an unexpected home repair. Or, yes, the simplest common cold can bring the mighty machine to a grinding and frustrating halt. And when the machine breaks down, nobody wins. In fact, when the machine breaks down there are ripple effects around the entire family. The solution? Grace. Grace for yourself. Grace for others. Grace for the machine itself. Sometimes, you just can't do it all, and recognizing your limitations and living within them is the only way to weather the seasons, short or long, when the machine is on the fritz.

4. In the end, you'd rather have a machine than not. Because the machine gives structure to your day. Honestly, the machine is often the only thing that keeps our house from becoming a "Lord of the Flies" kind of situation. On top of that, if you've built it right, and if you maintain it well, the machine can actually GIVE YOU LIFE. After all, for the most part, each cog is fundamentally good. Each gear represents an opportunity. Each lever is a chance for someone to experience something extraordinary. 

So, in the end, maybe it's not so binary. What I mean is that perhaps there's a third option beyond getting on the machine or getting out its way. 

Maybe it's about creating a machine with the tools of truth and grace.

It Takes a Village...to Get Your Master's!

To borrow from an old African proverb, and with a nod to Hillary Clinton, it takes a village...to get your Master's degree.

And so as I look down at the shiny, new diploma case (actual document still to come!) in my hands, I want to thank the village that God gathered around me during my years in the program. And, to be clear, that's 2.5 years recently, but 13+ years overall. I took my first course in the summer of 2000.

Here's my list, in no particular order:

Thanks to Rob Knight, my supervisor way back when I started, who encouraged me to take classes in the first place, and who actually got me seminary credit for doing ministry as a part of a practicum. Two classes just for doing staffwork? Yes please!

Thanks to my friends and staff partners who modeled the pursuit of seminary when I was young on staff. In particular, thanks to Una and Ruth for showing me the way.

Thanks to our ministry supporters and partners who have given specifically toward my Fuller studies. Thanks to them, I am graduating without school loans and Amy and I have only paid for one course out of pocket, and that was by choice!

Thanks to Dr. Jim Dixon, my uncle. I appreciate Jim's long and faithful ministry career. When I told Jim I'd be pursuing the "Masters in Global Leadership" degree, he deadpanned "well, Rob, I've always considered your leadership to be global in nature." Right. I'm honored to be the second Fuller grad in the Dixon family.

Thanks to my current supervisor Tom Allen. When I sat down with Tom to tell him I was thinking about applying for the program, I barely got the words out before he said, "Rob, that's great. And InterVarsity will give 4 hours a week for your studies." What a blessing to a supervisor who is so clearly in your corner!

Thanks to my staff team in the Surf and Turf. They didn't always know it, but they have basically been my guinea pigs over the last 2+ years as I worked out the content that I received in the program. What do you know, the stuff really does work!

Thanks to Tina, my friend and ministry buddy. For years I'd been debating whether to do more school and, if so, which program to do. When Tina told me she was applying for the MAGL, I decided right then and there to join her. T, thanks for motivating me; it's been a privilege to walk the journey alongside you.

Thanks to Bob Green, de facto president of the "Rob Dixon Spiritual Health Committee." Bob's steady encouragement mixed with frank accountabilty have helped to "keep the river within its banks" during this season.

Thanks to my family for rooting me on. My amazing in-laws housed me last summer while I toiled away at two classes. And thanks mom and dad for coming down for the ceremony this morning. I'm blessed to be a part of two terrific families!

Thanks to my cohort friends. The MAGL is good because of the content. It's great because of the community. So, thanks to Chris, Claudia, Hamp, Chad, Kevin, Eddie, York, Eliezer, Matt Jo, Laeti, Chef, Jeanette, Tina, Zewdie, Jonathan and Keith. Matt Jo, it was an honor to share the graduation experience with you. Front row all the way!

Thanks to the MAGL committee. For admitting me, sure. For guiding me through the program, you bet. But, most of all, for putting aside Fuller's 10 year class rule so that I could graduate without having to retake 7 courses that were set to expire. That decision saved me perhaps 3 years and more than $10K. I'm deeply grateful for that profound grace.

Lastly, thanks to Amy and the kids. For the permission to pursue this degree in the first place. For the patience as I labored over papers, readings, online blogs and more. For the encouragement, challenge and steady support. And for believing in me. Dr. Mouw handed me the diploma today, but, in a real sense, he should have handed it to our whole family.

What a great village, right?!? Or, to borrow some imagery from Hebrews 12, what a huge (and awesome!) cloud of witnesses! I'm blessed.

We had a fox hunt at the Dixon house today!

A Fly in the Soup Merry Christmas!

Evolving in Monkey Town

In the last month or so, I've really come to appreciate Rachel Held Evans' blog (here). For me she does a great job offering insightful commentary on the Bible, culture, issues, etc. with an attractive dash of whimsy. In particular, I've appreciated her stuff on women in the church. 

So I was eager to pick up her memoir (if you can in fact write a memoir at 27!), entitled Evolving in Monkey Town. As Evans herself would describe it, Evolving tells the story of her journey from fundamentalist (like the southern kind) certainty to faith. Along the way, the reader gets a glimpse into her process of evolving from being someone with all the answers to someone who learns both how to ask good questions and sit with ambiguity in terms of response.

For me Evans' journey in some ways mirrors my own. I've found that as I've gotten older the world has become more complex, not less. So too with faith. And at times that feels counter-intuitive; after all, wouldn't you expect that with maturity comes clarity? I guess what I'm saying is that I see a lot more gray as I go along; black and white was something that was easier to see in my 20s. Sheesh, I'm sounding like Bob Green!

And so with that as backdrop, you'll understand that Evans' comfort with living with unanswered questions was a helpful handle for me as I think about my own experience. And yet I left Evolving with a somewhat hollow feeling as well. Call it the last vestiges of modernity's hold on me if you will, but I found myself muttering things like "OK, I'm good living with tensions and uncertainty, but, at some point, don't you have to land somewhere?!?" Should our faith be ever-growing (evolving)? Yes. But don't there need to be some bedrock, stable truths as well. I think yes. 

All of this said, I commend Evans' commitment to never settling, for never having arrived at an understanding. Because Jesus warns us to watch out for what we think we know, doesn't he? After all, look at how he engaged the fundamentalists of his day, the Pharisees.

Why I love the morning walk to school

No doubt, it's rough getting out the door around here. I mean, there are four kids who need to be fed, clothed, brushed, badgered, cajoled and brow-beaten into school-shape. To be sure, most mornings in the Dixon house are a 45 minute, all-out, patience-testing sprint to the doorway. It's exhausting.

But here's the thing...once we're out the door, it's glorious. I absolutely LOVE our morning walk to school. Here's why:

1. It gives us a chance to talk. It's the difference between 5 minutes in the van and 15-20 on the sidewalk. In the van, you barely have time to clear channels about the day's schedule. On the walk, you can do so much more. Recently, Lily and I have spent our walks playing the letter game. We use her class' letter of the week and come up with as many words as possible that start with that letter. It's super fun. Maybe even better is listening to the kids talk to one another. This morning Josh and Lucy had a nice chat about the spaghetti tacos that are on today's lunch menu (The verdict? Sounds gross).

2. Walking is good for us. I mean physically. It's about a half mile to the school, so put us down for a bit of morning exercise. And for me, let's face it, at 40 any exercise is good exercise!

3. It gives the van a rest. As our only car, our van works hard. It deserves a morning off every now and then, you know? Walking is one way the Dixons are trying to go green.

4. We get to see the neighbors. You see people when you walk. Lots of "good mornings" to the neighbors as they walk out their doors and get in their cars to head to work. This morning my neighbor even rolled down his window and shouted a hearty "mornin' neighbor" as he drove by. Where are we? The 1950s?!? Also, lots of waving. I have like 4 cars that I wave at pretty much every morning. I've never once had a conversation with the drivers, but I've waved at them dozens of times. Bottom line is that the longer we live here the more I feel like a stakeholder in our neighborhood, and those brief morning connections during the walk only encourage that.

5. Slowing down feels counter-cultural. And good. I mean, our culture is in large part about efficiency, and walking is not the most efficient way to get to school. But, to be honest, I kinda like pushing back on the flow of culture. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for our van, but having a reliable vehicle is really a luxury. And there's something gratifying and life-giving in choosing simplicity.

So there you go. Let's walk people. If only I could figure out a way to make the race to the door as fun!

Francis Chan's Forgotten God

On the recommendation of one of my Interns, I recently picked up a copy of Francis Chan's Forgotten God. His take is that the church has essentially squelched or quenched the Holy Spirit. My take is that he's pretty much right.

On a personal conviction level, here was the most vivid passage for me: 

"What if you grew up on a desert island with nothing but the Bible to read? Imagine being rescued after twenty years and then attending a typical evangelical church. Chances are you'd be shocked (for a whole lot of reasons, but that is another story). Having read the Scriptures outside the context of contemporary church culture, you would be convinced that the Holy Spirit is as essential to a believer's existence as air is to being alive...There is a big gap between what we read in Scripture about the Holy Spirit and how most believers and churches operate today." (p. 16)

Got your attention?!? To me calling out this gap is Chan's strength. And he repeats, redefines and clarifies that gap over and again. That said, as a theology text, Forgotten God is pretty light. See chapter 3 for his 7 theological points. In addition, Chan majors on our personal connection (or lack of) with the Spirit; I found myself craving a chapter on how the Spirit speaks to US, as a community. The bottom line is that Forgotten God is best suited for devotional reading, like in a quiet time setting. It could also work in a group. 

May God help me (and us!) to close the gap so that our praxis more closely approaches the Scriptural emphasis on the Holy Spirit!

So I'm watching GMA this morning and...there I am on the screen...wearing spandex...

Just scroll through to 14 seconds and look for the vintage Cal Poly jersey...

Lucy's Desk

So last weekend, I built Lucy a desk. The only two requirements were as follows:

1. I could only use materials that I had on hand. On the plus side, I didn't go to Lowe's even once! On the flip side, my lack of wood filler means the screw holes are kind of eyesores.

2. It had to be small. The targeted space was about 28 inches wide, between Lucy's bed and the opened closet door. In the end, the desk is maybe 2 feet wide and 22 inches out from the wall.

Bottom line, it's a decent piece of work. Best of all is that Lucy loves it. Not that she can use it, because in the span of about 5 minutes, it was covered in goodies!

The Dixon men take Denver

So Josh and I are in Denver for 5 days of family, fun, sweets, fun, family, sweets and more fun. Here are a couple of shots from the start of the trip:

Because why wouldn't you put a massive red rabbit in your new terminal?

Josh playing my birthday guitar. Thanks Mark!

Coors Field was born on Josh's birthday in 1995

OK Mick...

I made him swear to me that his heart was still Dodger blue!

Perfect end to a super fun day!

A GREAT Father's Day

What a day yesterday! Here's the play by play:

7:00 6 mile run with the boys

9:00 Family yardwork session

10:30 Jamba Juice run

11:00 Veg it up in front of the TV

2:00 20 miles on the bike over to the pool

3:30 Swimming!

4:30 Father's Day shopping at Sports Authority (got a shirt)

5:30 Wahoo's Fish Tacos for dinner

8:30 In bed, worn out

Whew! As I told the kids last night, it's easy to be a good dad when you've got amazing kids. Here's a shot from yesterday: