Learning about "meeting spirituality"

For the past 4 years I've been serving on the Board of Directors for Students International (site here and the Board page is here). SI and I go all the way back to Urbana 96, when my buddy and housemate was investigating a short term, summer trip to Guatemala with this missions agency I'd at that point never heard of. Ever since, I've sent students and staff on short term missions teams, I've sent full time field staff and Amy and I led summer teams in both 2001 and 2003. I remain captured by SI's vision to facilitate the partnering of North American college students and the global poor for, Lord willing, mutual transformation. It's good stuff.

But one of the things I've consistently experienced over the years on the Board is the reality that for me each Board meeting is fundamentally a cross-cultural experience. "They" do things differently than I'm used to! In fact, so immersed am I in InterVarsity culture that it always takes me time to settle into a meeting, and I have to work hard to choose to participate. For those of us who are familiar with the "entry posture diagram," for me a Board meeting is an exercise in "blue-lining!"

Unlike some past meetings, this time I left the meeting with a profound sense of appreciation for what I had experienced. And, primarily, I was so thankful for the strong dose of what I'm calling "meeting spirituality" that marks our Board. What does a "spiritual" meeting look like in practice? Here are some of my takeaways from this latest experience:

1. People are free to pray at will. In an SI Board meeting, the prayer really flows. In some of the meetings I've led over the years, I've said something like "if we need to stop what we're doing with our agenda to pray, let's do it," but rarely have I/we actually done that. On the SI Board, we do. All the time. So much so that the agenda-driven, efficiency-valuing among us (OK, mainly me), get driven nuts at some points. In this last meeting, there was one guy who probably got prayed for 10 times during the two days. People just get up and start praying. It's awesome.

2. There is someone designated to pay attention to the Holy Spirit. Now ideally, we all should listening for and then responding to the Spirit. But on our Board, there is one person who has been commissioned by us to be our spiritual guide, director and all around Holy Spirit yoda. And he takes that role seriously. It's not uncommon for someone to share and then have this guy say, "now turn that into a prayer and pray it. That's the voice of the Holy Spirit." It's a wise and powerful choice to have someone set apart to seek the Spirit, and it makes me think that I/we need more of that in IV. Sort of a "designated chaplain" for each time we meet.

3. We seek to have a "real time" sense of what God is doing. My practice is the meetings I lead and am in is to process them afterward, much like I'm doing in this post. What did God do in that meeting? What are the spiritual takeaways for me and us? Stuff like that. But on the SI Board, we try to do it real time. And it's reflected in our language, such that a finalized decision is not "let's decide to set up a new ministry in Fiji," it's more "God is working in our hearts right now such that we perceive him leading us into a new ministry in Fiji." Don't get me wrong, I think God's leading is implied in the first one, but I like the explicitness of the second.

So often I think of meetings in a corporate, business sense, I suppose the bottom line is that my experience on the Board challenges me to see the meetings I lead as spiritual gatherings where we as a team seek the will of God.

On Lent

For the first time ever, I gave up something for Lent this year. What, you ask? French fries. That's right, fries. In the end, not a single tasty, salty, deep-fried morsel of goodness passed through my lips between Ash Wednesday and Easter. Here's what I gleaned from that experience:

1. I actually missed french fries. That sounds somehow sad, but it's true. I like fries. Especially those from Firestone/Doghouse Grill. With ranch. And an hour at the gym afterward...

2. Abstaining from french fries does not automatically bring you closer to Jesus. I mean, that's the point of giving up something for Lent, right? To deny yourself in order to remind yourself that Jesus chose the path of the cross. In my ideal world, every missed fry would be the ticket to a deeper level of spiritual intimacy, but that wasn't my experience. Turns out you have to simultaneously choose to deny yourself and connect with Jesus. Those two don't just naturally happen in tandem.

3. I had enough willpower in the tank. Sitting there on Ash Wednesday, I wasn't so sure I could make it. The first time I was tempted was during a rousing Dixon family dinner...at MacDonald's. At the end of the meal, I had to sit there while we tossed 23 fries away. What a waste! Grieve for each one! But because I don't think of myself as the most self-disciplined individual, I was pleased that I was able to make a commitment and actually stick to it.

By the way, my favorite moment during the "fry fast" came courtesy a Red Robin waiter. My buddy Terron and I were there and I ordered a burger and asked him what he could do in terms of substituting those ubiquitous Red Robin fries. He gave me a weird look, at which point Terron said, "he gave up fries for Lent." The waiter paused a beat, shook his head and said, "You gave up fries for Lent...and you came to Red Robin for dinner?!?"

Good times. Lastly, let it be said that since Easter I have partaken 3 times. Freedom!

Happy Easter from the Dixons!

Keeping the "madness" in March

I don't get the NCAA Tournament Tuesday night game, won tonight by Mount Saint Mary's over Coppin State, 69-60. In fact, not only do I not get it, I don't like it. Here are my two issues with it:

1. Didn't these teams automatically qualify for the Tournament?!? The answer, by the way, is yes. Each won their conference tournament. So if they made it in, why do we make them play what amounts to another qualification game? The NCAA calls the game the "opening game," which sounds better, but it's still a play-in game. Why else would my bracket say "Coppin St/Mt. St. Mary's?" Neither school gets their own spot in the brackets for heaven's sake! What indignity! Oh, the humanity!

2. If we are going do this once, why not four times...or more?!? Don't get me wrong, I love Bracketology on ESPN. It's required viewing in our house. And the Lord knows I love the never-ending analysis during tournament week. But for the love of all that's holy, sometimes the "who got snubbed" storyline gets old. So if we have one play-in game, why not 4, one for each Region? That way, we include 8 so-called "bubble teams." In fact, why not toss in like 16 play-in games while you're at it. Make it Super Tuesday before March Madness. What I'm saying is that the play-in game already feels to me absolutely arbitrary, so why not expand the tournament to include all the fringey clubs. Really, where does it end?!?

So here's to Mount Saint Mary's. Go Moutaineers! You win the play-in. Your reward? Enjoy that appointment with Carolina on Friday...

All things Bracketatious...

I spent time this morning toiling over that most sacred of Spring traditions: filling out my NCAA bracket. For the record, put me down for UCLA, North Carolina, Stanford and Kansas in the Final Four, with UCLA beating Kansas in the final. 71-67. There it is.

First round upsets on the men's side you ask? Put me down for Oregon, Kentucky, A&M, Georgia, Davidson, K State, Kent State (sorry, Vega$) and St. Joe's.

Also, put me down for the 14th seeded Fresno State lady Bulldogs to upset #3 Baylor on March 24 in first round play in the women's bracket. It's the first time State has made the dance on the women's side and they are coming into the tournament on fire. Go Dogs!

"Why do you have the mandarins?"

That's Amy's question to Lucy just now, but I just don't get it.

Because, really, what's weird about our three and a half year old wandering around the house clutching a sack of oranges at 10:38 on a Friday night?!?

James Farland Crotty, 1924-2008

We just got back last night from Sacramento. On Saturday, 60+ Crotty family members celebrated Amy's grandfather's memorial/funeral mass. It was truly a beautiful service. And, yes, for those of you scoring at home, that makes 2 grandparents lost in our lives in the span of 5 weeks. Amy and I said on the way down that if we could restart 2008 all over again, we might go for it.

That said, it was a weekend of celebration of a life well lived. And there were at least three things that I appreciate about Grandpa Crotty's life that I would LOVE to have be a part of my life:

1. Fathering well a big family. Grandpa had 10 kids. 10! Who does that?!? That's amazing and what's better is that, as my mother-in-law said, "we all felt like we were his favorite." That's a powerful thing to have said of you I think. I mean, one of my hesitations as we were talking about having 4 is would I be able to be the kind of father I would want to be to my kids if we have one more, and Grandpa Crotty's example gives me hope for that.

2. Letter writing. As Amy's Auntie Amy headed toward the end of her eulogy, she started to read a series of quotes from letters that she had received from her Dad during her time in college. There were some gems in there! And it turns out that he wrote notes and letters to all his kids. It's almost like you could gather those old letters, pull out the best quotes and make a coffee table book out of it. But how special is it for his kids to have his wisdom, first in real time and then for a lifetime?!? It makes me want to write more than emails...

3. The power of the will. Hearing Grandpa's story I realized I am not a very disciplined person. An alcoholic, that man was sober for the last 49 years of his life! That's incredible. It surely speaks to the power of the will, but also to the importance of systems of accountability such as AA.

His full obituary is here if you're interested.

Thankfully, she/he favors her/his mother?

At least I'm on my couch...

I'm not feeling well...again. Or is it still? Not sure. But it sucks. And I have writer's block for my talk for tomorrow night.

So there I was feeling all messed up, but then I saw this on Nightly News and realized it all could be so much worse...

Miscellaneous Updates

From around the world of the Dixons...

We've had the flu in our house. Friggin' ebola! I was down and out Friday through Monday, then everyone else got it despite my best efforts to avoid them. It's been miserable and I can't wait until we're all well to burn the sheets, air out the house and stop buying children's tylenol!

Amy and baby #4 are doing well. Lucy always has an update for us ("the baby is sleeping," or "resting" or "eating"). It's fun to have especially Josh and Lucy excited about our coming addition. Ultrasound on Monday afternoon.

Amy's grandfather is not doing well and is in hospice up in Sacramento. I will say that he is one tough guy hanging in there like he is. Old sailors know how to fight!

Plans for the weekend: Chipotle with the clan, laundry and the Lakers/Dallas on Sunday. And it'll be an IV free zone (just finished one full week of staff interviews!)

Great quote

Ran across this great quote from a clinical psychologist Wendy Mogel, from a book she wrote called The Blessing of a Skinned Knee:

"Good judgment comes from experience and experience comes from bad judgment." Like that!

Overheard down the hall just now...

Flush...
"Bye, bye pee pee. Have a nice trip!"
Pause
"Hey, pee pee. Are you doing alright down there?"
Pause
"Peace out pee pee!"
Another day in the vibrant life of Lucy Dixon...

Overdue yet hopefully healing

Good for Australia, finally.

Sound silenced?

Amy was calling the doctor the other day and got a...busy signal. Not on hold with nice music, not straight to voicemail. An actual, legit busy signal. It sounded familiar yet strangely foreign. Is it just us or is the busy signal a lost sound?!?

The fact that we HAD to go get toasted, buttered salt bagels for Amy this morning confirmed what we already knew...

...that we're pregnant again. The answers to your questions go as follows:

1. No, the kids don't know yet. We're trying to figure out a good way to tell them.
2. Today was the first day that Amy's actually "felt" pregnant, hence the craving run and some queasiness.
3. Yes, this was on purpose. The journey of deciding to try for four was a faith-testing one for us for sure! Story to come later probably.
4. The due date will be late September or early October, but Amy has not yet been to the Doctor.
5. We're hoping it's a boy, but we'll be happy with either gender and any ethnicity.
6. If it's a girl, probably Ruby. If it's a boy, we have no clue. Any ideas?
7. We are thinking we won't find out. We'll wait 'til they're like 7.
8. We feel very excited, blessed and freaked out.
9. Um, yes, this is our LAST one, though Amy says it's not wise to make statements like that lest we end up with a bonus baby (or two?) ten years from now...

Going through Grandma's pictures, I came across these gems...

Nina Belle Day Dixon, 1913-2008

Don't get me wrong, my Grandma had some quick wit. A couple years ago I was teaching on 2 Timothy and there's this part where Paul reminds Timothy of his faith heritage, which came in part through his grandmother Lois. As I was telling the students about how I resonate with that text, I happened to mention that my almost 95 year old Grandma had once briefly dated Moses. Later, when I told her that story, she paused for a moment and said, "Mercy. Well, you know, Rob, that Moses, he was a wild man."

So she had some quick wit, but the three things I will remember most about my Grandma were her gentleness, her faith and her toughness.

Gentleness is a lost art. Who's gentle anymore anyway?!? The closest my Grandma ever came to swearing was an emphatic "mercy." Getting cut off by a bad driver on Foothill Blvd would solicit a robust "oh my." And a shanked tee shot from my Grandfather over the fence and onto the 210 at Verdugo Hills would warrant an aghast "my stars, Ford." Gentleness. My Grandma had a kind word for everyone, she was a great listener and, even when I was dominating her in a game of Aggravation, it was clear that she was crazy in love with me.

Second, faith oozed out of my Grandma. It was authentic, real and simple. There was this one time when she and my Grandpa led their pool cleaner to Jesus. They prayed together right there in her living room and then he went out to pour in the chlorine! Amazing. I remember so clearly being challenged by her faith. When she led the pool guy to Jesus I was working hard in my dorm to love my non-believing friends, and all of a sudden I was losing to Grandma 1-0! Honestly, the thing that feels the hardest to me in losing my Grandma is knowing that I lose, though only in an earthly sense, the consistent and faith-filled prayers that she would offer to Jesus on our behalf.

Lastly, my Grandma was tough. I mean tough. The kind of tough that could grow up on a farm in Missouri, that could wrangle three wild boys into godly grown men, and that could survive a kidney operation while her wacky husband was kayaking the freakin' Alaskan Yukon. She wanted to live to be 100 and came up just short. Toughness comes from the core of who you are, and in that sense Grandma was great to her core.

A couple days ago, Grandma told a nurse "I'm just ready to go see Jesus." Amen, Grandma. This morning you got your lifelong wish. Enjoy your rewards in heaven and hear the voice of Jesus say "well done, good and faithful servant!" Say hi to Grandpa for us. We love you.

Here's a picture of Grandma from two summers ago with some of her grandkids and great-grandkids:

My top 5 albums that I used to own, don't own anymore, but would love to own once again

How's that for a post title?!?

So I'm in the gym the other day listening to the usual soundtrack, when all of a sudden I was hit by a blast from the absolute past. A song called "And We Danced." Don't think any less of me, but back in the day, back when I was first listening to music, one of my favorite bands was called The Hooters. No joke. The Hooters. The album was Nervous Night, and I listened to it so much (on tape mind you) that I'm sure I have a good 90% of the album lyrics stored away safely up in my dome. No wonder I have such a hard time memorizing Scripture! Too many one hit wonder song lyrics taking up my available RAM.

But hearing that song made me think...what are the top 5 albums that I wish I had...again? All of these I had, lost and want again. Here's my list:

1. The Hooters, Nervous Night. By the way, here's the youtube of "And We Danced." Sweet.
2. U2, Joshua Tree. Had this one on tape too. Maybe best album ever...
3. Toad the Wet Sprocket, Fear. I got it because my friend Ruth knew someone in the band, but once I listened to it, I was hooked. I think I left it in someone's CD player in the dorms.
4. Depeche Mode, Music For the Masses. Man, what a great album. The first secular tape I owned.
5. They Might Be Giants, Lincoln. A beautiful album. Actually all of their stuff is spectacular (including the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse theme song that my kids love). I still have the Lincoln case and it sits there on the CD shelf, taunting me...

Honorable mention goes to the long list of Erasure albums that I sold off in some late-90's CD purge. The album at the top of Amy's list, by the way, is Wish by The Cure. I'm partial to Fascination Street myself, but it's cool.

If you ever see any of these lying around at your used CD shop, pick 'em up for me!

Saying a lot without words...

One of the things I enjoy most about our son Josh is his non-verbal communication. In particular he has two things he does when he is excited that I find fascinating, and if you've spent any time with him at all, you've surely seen and been amused by them.

First, when he is excited about something he flicks his ears. No kidding. He takes his hands, starts at his shoulder and gives his earlobes a mighty "thwack" from back to front. When he's really into it, he does both ears simultaneously. It is amazing to watch. And thank goodness he doesn't have an earring; he'd injure his hand...

The second one happens after he has said something that he thinks is pretty cool. When he's done talking, he'll punctuate his statement with a shaking of both of his hands and a pursing of his lips. Now that I think about it, sometimes it looks like a small seizure...But it's as if the joy that he feels about whatever it is he's talking about radiates outward from his little heart and out through his hands. And I hope he never stops doing it!

Why I love racquetball

I look back at the school year 2003-2004 with a lot of fondness. It was our last year in SLO. It our last year on staff with IV at Cal Poly, our alma mater. And...it was the year that I played a heck of a lot of racquetball. I mean, a lot of racquetball. Back then I kept track of stuff like this, and looking back at my journal, in May of 2004, I played 83 games of racquetball. No kidding. Late nights, during breaks on campus, you name it. I had this posse of students, staff and friends and we made sure that the courts at the Cal Poly Rec Center got use that year!

Man, I miss those days. Not a whole lot of racquetball in Fresno over these last few years. Unless you count a few sessions on the urine-soaked, cracked and ancient courts over at Fresno State that is. I've missed it. So I now announce that my 2008 New Year's Resolution is this: to play racquetball whenever possible.

Here's why I love racquetball:

1. You get to hit people. Sometimes I try, sometimes it's just a bonus, but I love the potential for destruction inside those 6 walls.

2. It's a terrific workout. Don't get me wrong, I love a good session on the elliptical, but you can't beat an hour in the courts.

3. You get better at racquetball as you get older. And, let's face it, I'm getting older.

4. Anyone can play. Not well necessarily, but everyone can hit a ball with a racket in a box. OK, almost everyone.

5. It's communal. By nature you cannot play racquetball by yourself. And I say the more in the court the better. More welts that way. I have a great friends in part because we played racquetball.

And so it's about 11am and I'm in an IV meeting in Tehachapi. But at about 4pm, I'll drive down the hill to Bakersfield, put the goggles on, and bring the pain for a couple hours. Can't wait.