America's Milestone Memories

Dear America,

For 242 years old, you’re looking good. Of course, realistically, you’re still just a pup. On a recent trip to Ireland, I sipped whiskey in pubs older than 242. Heck, I think even the barstools in the airport pre-dated the Second Continental Congress. The friends I visited in Prague live in a renovated 250-year-old farmhouse. The Hapsburgs were working on their 7^th monarch when Thomas Jefferson started rough drafting your famous declaration.

And yet, at 242, I’m worried about you. You’ve got a few issues, but it’s your birthday, so let’s not talk about any shortcomings. Today, we’re celebrating. We’ve got 361 other days to try to mend the places where you’re taking on water. I too am having a birthday. It’s next week and it’s a big one: 50. In light of my milestone, I thought it’d be cool to look back at some of your momentous birthdays.

Sweet 16 (1792) – With George Washington as president, the US Post Office Department was created. It’s also the year that Benjamin Franklin added the term “going postal” to his Poor Richard’s Almanac. Notable births: John C. Calhoun’s wife. Notable deaths: George Mason and John Paul Jones.

21 (1797) – You were finally old enough to drink and you got your second president when GW turned the office over to John Adams. 1797 is also the year that Sam Adams retired as governor of Massachusetts and started his Boston-based brewery. Interesting timing, don’t cha think?

30 (1806) – You decided to put your youthful, carefree days behind you. You had 15 stars on your flag and it was time to put down some roots, puff out your chest, and make a name for yourself. With Jefferson in office, Lewis and Clark returned home after exploring the uncharted territories to your west. Too bad they whiffed on finding the Northwest Passage during their three-year expedition. Ironically, sometimes it takes me three years to cross the Sepluveda Pass on the way out of Los Angeles. Notable births: Jane Pierce (Franklin’s wife). Notable deaths: Benjamin Banneker and Henry Knox.

40 (1816) – You decided to go quietly into your 40s. I understand, 40^th birthday parties can often be quite embarrassing. Other than adding Indiana to the union, the only big news from 1816 was James Madison becoming president, defeating Rufus King in the process. Even though Madison is an important figure in your history, I think it would have been pretty dang cool to have a POTUS named Rufus.

50 (1826) –Once again you entered a new decade of existence rather quietly. The strangest news story of the year was the Eggnog Riot at West Point. Apparently, some thirsty cadets turned the academy into a 19^th-century version of Animal House with a rowdy two-day, pre-Christmas party. Arms were drawn, arrests were made, and several cadets were court-martialed. Among those not disciplined was future confederate leader Jefferson Davis. Rumor has it that U.S. Grant sent Davis 50 barrels of eggnog after the Civil War. Interestingly, both Davis’ and Grant’s wives were born in 1826. Notable deaths: Jefferson and John Adams, both on July 4^th of all days.

75 (1851) – Well, America, you were officially a geezer in the 1850s. Millard Fillmore was your president and you had 31 stars on your flag. The Gold Rush was in full swing and up in Oregon, a coin toss was used to determine the name for a new city. The options were Boston and Portland. I’m happy with the outcome because the Boston Trailblazers just doesn’t sound right. Doc Holliday was born; while Thomas Lincoln (Abe’s dad) and James Fenimore Cooper died in 1851.

100 (1876) – You really went big for your centennial. Alex G. Bell made a memorable phone call (Mr. Watson, come here, I want to see you), Tom Edison patented his mimeograph, Custer made a last stand, and the National League of Baseball Clubs was formed. Grant was president, Heinz made ketchup and Adolphus Busch marketed Budweiser. There were no notable births and nobody famous died, other than, well, General Custer.

200 (1976) – The bicentennial. Your first big birthday that I remember. I was eight, and both my parents had afros that would have made Dr. J proud. In the world of sports, the ABA and the NBA merged, which was good news for Dr. J, except that he had to travel to Portland, not Boston, to play the Trailblazers. A pair of Steves, Jobs and Wozniak, formed Apple Computers, Patty Hearst was found guilty, and Viking 1 landed on Mars. Notable births: Reese Witherspoon and Peyton Manning.

There you have it, America. I hope you enjoyed this walk down memory lane. But, I have to wonder, what did you think back in 1776 when this little experiment in democracy got underway? Things could have gone wonky from the get-go (remember the Articles of Confederation?). You’ve weathered trying times and bloody wars. What if Lee had won at Gettysburg? How would you look today had the Allies failed at Normandy or the Marines not captured Iwo Jima? It’s almost as if you’ve been guided along through these 242 years by a higher power, someone holding things together and pushing back the forces of evil. For me, such a concept is a self-evident truth. It’s something Jefferson was on to when he wrote:

We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.

Many call this one of the greatest sentences in the English language. I tend to agree. It’s right up there with:

“A government of the people, for the people, by the people shall not perish from the earth.”

America, some other nations out there would like to see you perish from the earth. And to be honest, I am worried that our own internal discord and divisiveness is going to prevent you from reaching your next milestone. Be it 250 or 300.

What’s that, you say? We need more people to do what the delegates did every morning when the second Continental Congress was in session? What did they do?

Oh, right. They prayed.

Good call.

Happy birthday, America!

Help Send Tony Back to Mozambique

Dear Friends and Family—

Some of the Melanie Center Kiddos

God is continuing to do amazing things in Mozambique. The children in our orphanages are thriving (lifeformoz.com). Churches are being planted (unofficially about 100). Pastors are being trained, our classrooms are full, and local women are learning a vocation (sewing). Praise God!

In a few weeks (July 19-31), I have the amazing privilege of returning to Mozambique for the third time. I’ll be going one of my pastors, Doug Lee, and we have a whirlwind trip planned.

Some HighLights include:

• Visiting both orphanages and spending time with the kiddos (I will be leading games, activities, and lessons)
• Experiencing glorious Mozambican church services in our new church at the Melanie Center
• Loving on our amazing American family, the Viana’s
• Potentially researching the plans for a school at the Melanie Center 2 (the teacher in me is overjoyed by this possibility)
• Filming a promotional video to help facilitate how we share what God is doing in Mozambique
• Traveling to a far-away location to host a conference with pastors from that area who will work to evangelize and plant churches in this region

  

  Pastor and friend Doug Lee

The cost to get to Mozambique is pretty steep. My flight and entrance visas total roughly  $2,550.00. I will be covering my on-the-ground expenses during our 11-day stay.

HELP?!

Would you like to partner with me and be a part of the amazing work God is doing in Mozambique? If so, your donation options are plentiful. 

Venmo? You can find me if we're friends!

Cash? Probably only a good idea if you're local.

Check? Yep. You can mail one to me at: 

24312 Lucille Ave.

Lomita, CA 90717

Checks can be made out to Life Covenant Church. 

PayPal? Yep. Here's a link for you:

click here to donate

If you use the pay pal link, please message me the amount for my record keeping. 

Here's our itinerary:

7/21 –         Arrive, shower, eat, SLEEP!

7/22 –         Church (John and Maria will already be in Songo)

7/23 –         Drive to Chimoio to visit MC2. I'll be in charge of stories, games, prizes and things for the kids

7/24 –         Drive to Songo and help set up for conference – 5 hours. 

7/25 –        Conference Begins 

                          Salvation Message –     Doug

                         

Life in Christ -               Doug            

Q & A Time -                 All

7/26 – Final Day of Conference

                           Spiritualism 1-             Melanie: Give the scriptural foundation for leaving witchcraft and other traditional practices.

Spiritualism 2-              John & Pastor Kangazera: Address difficulties in following Christ and not letting go of the old ways. Share testimonies of pastors who have walked away from being witch doctors.

Altar Call-                     Doug: Refresher on salvation and a call to follow after Christ, living in imitation of Him. 

7/27 – Drive Back to Beira. John and Maria to follow the next day. (9-10 hours)

7/28 – Day of Rest

7/29 – Church in Manga                       Doug will be preaching

7/30 – Day at MC1 in Beira.                I'll be in charge of stories, games, prizes and things for the kids 

                                                                    

7/31 – Return Home   

More Photos:

2014: Preacher for a day

The beautiful Viana family

Our wonderful Mozambican leaders, John and Maria

2016: distributing food kits to local families
                     

For the Love of the Game

You always get a special kick on opening day, no matter how many you go through. You look forward to it like a birthday party when you're a kid. You think something wonderful is going to happen.  – Joe DiMaggio

I’ve attended one Opening Day game. And Joltin’ Joe was right. Something wonderful did happen. It was April 7, 1986 and I was a senior in high school. My dad had won two tickets by correctly answering a radio-station trivia question. Over 51,000 packed into Tiger Stadium for a matchup with the Boston Red Sox. It turned out to be an unforgettable game. Boston’s Dewy Evans hit Jack Morris’ first pitch for a laser-beam homer to straight-away centerfield. Morris yielded three more home runs, but Detroit had Kirk Gibson. He blasted a pair of two-run homers, the second giving the Tigers the lead for good.

For a baseball fan, Opening Day is like a wedding anniversary. It’s a celebration of a lifetime of love. We look past the hurts and disappointments and reminisce over the good times. We renew our vows and pledge a full season of faithfulness, even if our team will be in the cellar by Father’s Day. We spring forth with eternal hope, believing that our team can reach October, despite its shaky rotation and lack of bullpen depth. On Opening Day something wonderful will happen, baseball returns. Today we celebrate all that is baseball.

For me, baseball is walking into Tiger Stadium for the first time as a six-year-old in 1975. From the outside, Tiger Stadium looked more like an auto plant than a ballpark. Inside, it was dark and spooky, as if the ghost of Ty Cobb was hiding in a corner. I crossed a catwalk-like bridge that connected the concourse to the upper deck seats on the third base side. My knees wobbled as I looked down on the spectators in the field boxes below me. I exited the darkness through a passageway, nearly blinded by brilliance of the afternoon sunlight, into a lifetime of love.

Baseball is coming in from mowing the lawn on a Saturday to watch Mel Allen’s This Week in Baseball. It’s Dave Parker throwing out Brian Downing at home and Jim Rice at third in the ’79 All-Star Game. It’s Monday Night Baseball and the Cubs on TV every afternoon.

Baseball is a George Brett hissy fit, an Ozzie Smith back flip, and Mark Fidrych playing in the dirt. It’s getting tucked into bed by the voice of Ernie Harwell and then getting up to check the newspaper to see who won the game.

It’s little league games on the Michigan rural fields where you dad was the coach, the league president, and the architect of the complex’s restrooms. Baseball is your mom confronting an umpire after a game to tell him she took up a collection so he could buy new glasses.

Baseball is playing high-school ball at school so small that anybody with a glove and a pulse made the team. It’s hitting a pinch-hit grand slam. It’s smashing another homer at the behest of the cutest classmate this side of Memo Paris.

Baseball is staying up before games with your best friend to watch The Natural for the 200^th time. It’s Ray Kinsella having a catch with his dad. It’s books by David Halberstam, George Will, and Roger Kahn. It’s “Put me in Coach” and “I don’t believe what I just saw!”

Baseball is flying to Seattle and back in one day just to see Safeco Field. It’s gauging your attendance at a family reunion in St. Louis on whether the Cardinals are in town. It’s witnessing Andre Dawson smack three homers on your first visit to Wrigley. It’s a pilgrimage to Fenway and seeing Roger Clemens strike out 18 batters, as a Blue Jay. It’s road trips to Milwaukee and Oakland and vacation stadium tours to places like Pittsburgh and Baltimore. It’s driving from Grand Rapids with a gang of college buddies to see the Tigers steal the ’87 division crown from Toronto. It’s returning home after years on the west coast for Tiger Stadium’s last game.

Baseball is having friendships that traverse both time and geography dating back to the glory days of skinned knees and grass stains and it’s forging new relationships that are instantly solidified thanks to years of watching grown men try to hit a round ball with a round stick.

Baseball is finding the ticket to that first game at Tiger Stadium. It was a baseball fan’s biggest archaeological find. It was tucked away in a book, a lost artifact in pristine condition, my own marriage license, which sealed our National Pastime as my own.

Baseball is front-yard whiffle ball with dad, using a red, plastic bat as big as a caveman’s club. It’s working on your fastball as he crouched down like Johnny Bench after a long day’s work. It’s listening to him explain the infield-fly rule and tell stories about driving to Cleveland to see Bob Feller beat the Yankees when he was young. It’s watching games together now for five decades.

Baseball is remembering how he held your hand as you walked together across that Tiger Stadium catwalk, ushering not a daughter down the aisle, but a son into a lifetime of wonderful memories, each as bright and vivid as a cloudless Michigan summer sky.