Go and Read: The Dragon's Tooth

Five of the Abell six have now completed N. D. Wilson’s latest fictional creation, The Dragon’s Tooth. Unanimous consensus is that this book is simply fantastic. Nate wrote, upon request from Amazon, a brief letter to potential readers. I suggest you read the whole thing, but here is a great paragraph:

Escapism in fiction can be a beautiful thing. But that’s not the only thing I hope to create. If kids around the world pass through The Dragon’s Tooth and become friends with Cyrus and Antigone Smith and form clubs and sit in circles to role-play with dice and wish they had more interesting lives, then I will have failed. But if they dream of learning to sail, to swim, to fly, if they dream of running faster than they’ve ever run and studying Latin (or Greek or Persian or Creole), if they walk outside and realize that their world is more wonderful, more surprising, more dangerous, and more exciting than anything I could ever create, if they discover that they themselves could become more interesting than any character I could ever shape, then I will have succeeded.

One of my daughters said that “Cyrus Smith, if he were real, was the kind of boy you could fall in love with...”

I love being a dad that gets to read the same great stuff his kids are reading. I love the excitement and fun we have discussing plots and characters and story lines. I love being a dad to my four and the head of the Abell six.

Considering I’m an Administrator...

The whole post by Douglas Wilson is about Missions, but the first two paragraphs seemed appropriate to my job description. Too much truth here...

Inside each capable administrator, there is a petty bureaucrat, yearning to get out. Inside each visionary, there is a wild antinomian, yearning to get out. Each one is suspicious of the inner other guy, when they ought to be suspicious of their own inner guy. 

Mission cannot be accomplished without visionary leadership. Mission cannot be accomplished without a supply corps, and working supply lines. Without the supply guys, the visionary is Napoleon marching on Moscow. Without the visionary, the administrator is an undersecretary for Garbonzo bean subsidies in eastern Washington, involved in a desperate turf war with the Chickpea guy for northern Alabama.

Read the whole thing.

Toes

toes, originally uploaded by wenabell.

Wendy is fantastic. Can you guess whose toes are whose? Hint: I am not pictured and Wendy took the picture.

Chicken Involtini with Prosciutto and Basil

Life has been so busy that I haven’t grilled anything in a long time. Today, in the Lord’s kindness, I had an afternoon off. I finished a book I had been reading and then prepared the dinner pictured above.

Chicken Involtini with Prosciutto and Basil sounds really complicated. It is not. I simply took four chicken breast halves, hammered them between plastic wrap until they were thin, seasoned them with salt, garlic powder, and pepper, and rolled them up with a layer of thin-sliced prosciutto and provolone and a few fresh basil leaves. Once they were rolled, I carefully tied them up with baker’s twine and covered them with olive oil. I then grilled them over direct-medium heat on my Weber charcoal kettle grill for about 12 minutes, turning them about a quarter turn every few minutes.

Once they were done, I set them aside to rest for a few minutes while I spread some warmed, quality tomato sauce on a plate. I cut the baker's twine off each of the rolled chicken pieces, cut a piece in half, and arranged it on the tomato sauce with a few ripped up basil leaves.

Very easy, attractive, and tasted great.

My Favorite Baseball Game Ever

In 1995, I attended Portland State University’s civil engineering school. I was friends with Alex and Tim, two of the most dedicated baseball fans I know. I was a huge hockey fan; I loved the Portland Winterhawks. But these guys wore on me. They hooked me, and I grew to love baseball.

The closest MLB team to our home was the Seattle Mariners, a measly 3 hours away. But Tim and Alex took me to see a game anyway. I was hooked. In the evenings after work, it was my joy to watch games on cable and then talk with Alex and Tim the next day about what had happened. I was a baseball fan.

On September 3, 1995, Mackenzie was born. I loved to hold her and stare at her beautiful face and smell her beautiful skin. One of the favorite things I did was sit with her asleep in my lap and watch baseball. I still remember my favorite spot on our blue couch.

Ken Griffey Jr. has broken his wrist that summer, but he was back and the M’s were making a run for the playoffs. Randy Johnson was throwing left-handed heat. The Mariners had to face the Yankees in the first round of the playoffs, with the first three games in NY and the last two of the five game set in Seattle—if they made it that far.

They lost the first game 9-6. They lost the second game 7-5 in 15 innings. But they won the third game 7-4. Then back home to Seattle and a win in game four, 11-8.

On October 8, 1995, the Mariners faced the New York Yankees in game five to determine who would go to the ALCS. The Mariners were down 4-2 in the 6th. No score in the 7th. In the 8th they tied the game 4-4. No score in the 9th. Extra innings. In the top of the 10th inning, Lou Pinella brought Randy Johnson in to close the game. Amazing. The Mariners’ best starter on only a few days rest, coming in to finish the game. No score in the 10th. In the top of the 11th inning, NY scored after Randy Johnson gave a lead-off walk to Mike Stanley.

In the bottom of the 11th inning, facing black-jack McDowell, down by one run, the Mariners started off with their number two hitter, Joey Cora. Griffey would bat second, and Edgar Martinez ready to hit third.

My writing can’t do that moment justice. I remember sitting, standing, biting my nails, yelling at the TV, waiting and watching with anticipation as Joey Cora got on base with a weak bunt up the first base line. Imagine! Griffey could end the whole thing with one swing. Instead he hit a single in between the SS and 2B. Cora to third. Edgar Martinez, DH extraordinaire, was up to bat. A very young Alex Rodriguez was in the box.

Now, I must say, Edgar was one of my heroes. He was slower than molasses, but he could hit. He had an amazing inside-out swing that would drive balls into the left field. If I remember right Edgar had 52 doubles in 1995. So, what does Edgar do? He lines a double to left field. Cora scores from third. The left fielder retrieves the ball and throws as hard as he can for home, only to have Griffey, screaming around third from first base—on a double, slide into home plate just ahead of the throw.

Mariners win 5-4!

I have not since experienced such an exhilarating game. I hope to again some day, though.

This memory was re-awakened in my mind because on Friday night the Mariner’s unveiled a statue in honor of their former broadcaster, Dave Niehaus, who began broadcasting for the Mariners in their inaugural season in 1977. He died in November 2010 after working every year for the Mariners.

Here is how Dave Niehaus called the winning play that I just tried to describe....

“Right now, the Mariners looking for the tie. They would take a fly ball, they would love a base hit into the gap and they could win it with Junior's speed. The stretch... and the 0-1 pitch on the way to Edgar Martínez swung on and LINED DOWN THE LEFT FIELD LINE FOR A BASE HIT! HERE COMES JOEY, HERE IS JUNIOR TO THIRD BASE, THEY'RE GOING TO WAVE HIM IN! THE THROW TO THE PLATE WILL BE ... LATE! THE MARINERS ARE GOING TO PLAY FOR THE AMERICAN LEAGUE CHAMPIONSHIP! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! IT JUST CONTINUES! MY, OH MY!”

—Calling “The Double”, hit by Edgar Martínez, which scored Joey Cora and Ken Griffey, Jr. to win the 1995 American League Division Series in the 5th and final game.

Slay the Dragon

“G.K. Chesterton said somewhere that if a book does not have a wicked character in it, then it is a wicked book. One of the most pernicious errors that has gotten abroad in the Christian community is the error of sentimentalism—the view that evil is to be evaded, rather than the more robust Christian view that evil is to be conquered. The Christian believes that evil is there to be fought, the dragon is there to be slain. The sentimentalist believes that evil is to be resented.”

—Douglas Wilson, “Forward”, Omnibus IV, page IX.

Another Reason to Love Baseball

From Rob Neyer:

youneverknow

What single word could better summarize what Milwaukee Brewers catcher George Kottaras did, Saturday night in Houston?

Kottaras, the Brewers’ backup (and rarely used) catcher, entered the contest with 13 home runs and one triple in 454 career plate appearances.

In the second inning, Kottaras flied out. (Yawn.)

In the fourth inning, Kottaras hit a solo home run, a line drive that carried into the first row of right-field seats. (Well played, sir.)

In the sixth inning, Kottaras led off with a triple over the center fielder’s head and to the far reaches of Tal’s Hill. (Wait, what?)

In the seventh inning, Kottaras singled to right field. (Uh, guys? You might want to watch this...) 

In the ninth inning, Kottaras drove another ball past the center fielder ... and this one bounced over the wall for an automatic double. (Say what?) 

Kottaras thus became the first major leaguer with a cycle this season, as the last to accomplish the feat was Colorado’s Carlos Gonzalez more than 13 months ago. And Kottaras now has hit for the cycle more often (1) than every San Diego Padre (0) and Florida Marlin (0) in major-league history. 

Of course, Kottaras probably isn’t the most unlikely cycler in history. He certainly isn’t the first slow catcher with just moderate power to hit for the cycle. If you’re making a list, though? Of the players who shocked the hell out of anyone paying attention? George Kottaras is within spitting distance of the top. 

youneverknow

Read the whole post and see a pic.

Watch more.

Fantastic Sentence

“Stanley Yelnats was the only passenger on the bus, not counting the driver or the guard.”

—Louis Sachar, Holes, pg. 6

Sweet 16

Sara Groves, Invisible Empires, Available NOW

Sara’s brand new album, Invisible Empires, is available right now for pre-order and download. I love waking up to surprises like this.

Sara Groves has been a family favorite since the late nineties when her song, The Word, came out. Little did we know then that we would end up living in the Twin Cities, where she lives, see her at Bethlehem, and in multiple concerts. Her vocals and words and thoughts touch our family in deep ways. My daughters fall asleep listening to her music and my wife and I play her stuff throughout the year. She is perennially in our playlist.

Wendy has already listened to this new album all the way through. We heartily recommend it.

Steve Jobs Resigns as CEO

I am sure this is not news to most now. I am not trying to break news. As an Apple fanboy, should I be worried? Maybe, maybe not. Here is a paragraph from John Gruber’s (of Daring Fireball) analysis:

Apple’s products are replete with Apple-like features and details, embedded in Apple-like apps, running on Apple-like devices, which come packaged in Apple-like boxes, are promoted in Apple-like ads, and sold in Apple-like stores. The company is a fractal design. Simplicity, elegance, beauty, cleverness, humility. Directness. Truth. Zoom out enough and you can see that the same things that define Apple’s products apply to Apple as a whole. The company itself is Apple-like. The same thought, care, and painstaking attention to detail that Steve Jobs brought to questions like “How should a computer work?”, “How should a phone work?”, “How should we buy music and apps in the digital age?” he also brought to the most important question: “How should a company that creates such things function?” 

Jobs’s greatest creation isn’t any Apple product. It is Apple itself.

Read the whole thing.

The Dragon’s Tooth

This book arrives at theAbellsix doorstep today. We can’t wait. Wendy and I listened as the author read the first chapter to us back in June and are so excited to read the rest. My kids have been fighting over who gets to read it first for months. First to the door wins!



From the RabbitRoom review...

Which brings us to choices. Cyrus and Antigone face the age-old choice of doing what is easy versus doing what is right. Turning away from the Order of Brendan would allow them to grieve for their family, remain safe, and stay together. But Dan has been given the Dragon’s Tooth, the Reaper’s Blade, with the power of death. Immortals can die and the dead can be raised with the tooth’s power. Enemies want it and will kill to get it. At one point Cyrus is offered his family in return for the tooth. Give the tooth (and all personal risk and responsibility) and save his family. Or keep the tooth (and the risk and responsibility toward a greater good) and possibly lose his loved ones. Easy? Or right?

Read the whole thing.

85 Million is More Than Enough

I know nothing about Jared Weaver other than he is in a race for the Cy Young this year. Based on this article I am rooting for him to win.

Rob Neyer reports:

Well, this is certainly refreshing (via ESPNLosAngeles.com's Mark Saxon): 

Jered Weaver admits he had to go against the advice of agent Scott Boras before agreeing to the Los Angeles Angels' five-year, $85 million contract extension, but he said the lure of staying home outweighed the seduction of greater riches.
“If $85 (million) is not enough to take care of my family and other generations of families then I’m pretty stupid, but how much money do you really need in life?” Weaver said Tuesday. “I’ve never played this game for the money. I played it for the love and the competitive part of it. It just so happens that baseball’s going to be taking care of me for the rest of my life.” 

--snip-- 

“How much more do you need?” Weaver asked about his deal. “Could have got more, whatever. Who cares?”

Read the whole thing.

A Hero Among Dragons

“This is also why the new novels die so quickly, and why the old fairy tales endure for ever. The old fairy tale makes the hero a normal human boy; it is his adventures that are startling; they startle him because he is normal. But in the modern psychological novel the hero is abnormal; the centre is not central. Hence the fiercest adventures fail to affect him adequately, and the book is monotonous. You can make a story out of a hero among dragons; but not out of a dragon among dragons. The fairy tale discusses what a sane man will do in a mad world. The sober realistic novel of to-day discusses what an essential lunatic will do in a dull world.”

—G. K. Chesteron, Orthodoxy, The Project Gutenberg eBook, Apple iPod Touch, pp. 45–46 of 838.

The Negative AL Central

Rob Neyer writes about the runs-scored differential in the AL Central...

[As of August 5,] The first-place Tigers have been outscored by seven runs. The second-place Indians have been outscored by seven runs. The third-place White Sox have been outscored by 30 runs. And the fourth-place Twins, you don't even wanna know about.

The whole thing.

Congratulations Chase and the Raspberries!

Yes, you read that right. Raspberries. A group of 13 and 14 year old boys named their maroon-shirted soccer team the Raspberries. Well, I guess that is OK, since they not only won the regular season, but were champions in the playoffs as well. Way to go, son.

Farther Along

I heard about the new Josh Garrels album, Love & War & The Sea In Between, from The Rabbit Room, NoiseTrade, and a friend at nearly the same time. I have been listening to it constantly now for days. I love it.

Josh Garrels appears to be one of those radical Christians who trusts in God to the point of sacrifice. He is giving away the album for free—I guess that is what giving away means—for a year, both electronic and physical versions.

I highly encourage you to go and download this album. If you love it as much as I do, please donate (visit the store on his website). This is the kind of music that Christians should be listening to rather than the pop driven, mindless drivel played on so many other Christian outlets.

My favorite song so far is Farther Along:

Farther Along

Farther along we’ll know all about it
Farther along we’ll understand why
Cheer up my brothers, live in the sunshine
We’ll understand this, all by and by

Tempted and tried, I wondered why
The good man died, the bad man thrives
And Jesus cries because he loves em’ both
We’re all cast-aways in need of ropes
Hangin’ on by the last threads of our hope
In a house of mirrors full of smoke
Confusing illusions I’ve seen

Where did I go wrong, I sang along
To every chorus of the song
That the devil wrote like a piper at the gates
Leading mice and men down to their fates
But some will courageously escape
The seductive voice with a heart of faith
While walkin’ that line back home

So much more to life than we’ve been told
It’s full of beauty that will unfold
And shine like you struck gold my wayward son
That deadweight burden weighs a ton
Go down into the river and let it run
And wash away all the things you’ve done
Forgiveness alright

Chorus

Still I get hard pressed on every side
Between the rock and a compromise
Like the truth and pack of lies fightin’ for my soul
And I’ve got no place left go
Cause I got changed by what I’ve been shown
More glory than the world has known
Keeps me ramblin’ on

Skipping like a calf loosed from its stall
I’m free to love once and for all
And even when I fall I’ll get back up
For the joy that overflows my cup
Heaven filled me with more than enough
Broke down my levee and my bluff
Let the flood wash me

And one day when the sky rolls back on us
Some rejoice and the others fuss
Cause every knee must bow and tongue confess
That the son of god is forever blessed
His is the kingdom, we’re the guests
So put your voice up to the test
Sing Lord, come soon

Chorus

It All Ends Tonight

w00t! We have tickets to the midnight show of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 for tonight at 12:01am.  Mackenzie, Chase, Kayleigh, Matt, and I will all arrive early at Carmike Wynnsong in Mounds View for the fun and festivities. Well, actually, we just want to see the other fans in costume and watch the final installment of a great story and a cultural phenomenon.

I know the Cherokee Hills subdivision pool boy will be there. What about you? Stop by the biggest screen and say hi if you go.

The Power of Love in Little Things

This morning in the shower doubtful thoughts about Christianity were attempting to enter into my thinking like 10,000 Uruk-Hai trying to enter Helm’s Deep. Relentlessly. These thoughts made sense, at least it seemed like they did while bleary eyed under the warming spray. They breached the gate on multiple occasions with the only voice of true resistance being the thought that I knew I was tired, I knew I was still fighting post-vacation traumatic stress disorder, and I knew my prayer life and Bible time had suffered while visiting family and driving 5,000 miles. Therefore, even though I couldn’t fully refute these arguments right now, I would be able to later when I was more awake and less weary.

The strongest thought trying to gain entry was not that Jesus didn’t exist or that God wasn’t real, but that he wasn’t so much relevant now as he was 2,000 years ago. After all, we haven’t really heard from him since he ascended into heaven, and his book has been torn asunder by generations of exegetes (or eisegetes, as the case may be), many of whom have found far too many differences in one text. If thousands of scholars over centuries can’t agree on what one book says, how can it be true? How can we know Christianity is still real when our book is so old? How can we differentiate a real movement of the Holy Spirit from a simple event felt by a person who desperately wants to experience something? How do I know the Holy Spirit is real when it seems like most “movements of the Spirit” can be explained by a cynic? How do I really know that Jesus wanted me to sell my house and move from Washington to Minneapolis? How can I pray, even now, that he help me know whether we should buy a house here? Or that my career best matches my gifting? Or that I was meant to be an administrator rather than a pastor?

Jason, I whispered to myself, you are tired. These doubts only have strength because you are tired and weary and mildly depressed about coming home and re-entering the rat race. By God’s grace—and I don’t say that lightly—the doubts receded and I was able to get ready and head off to work, knowing that after this brief reprieve I would have to go out and face the horde of orcs, much like Aragorn and company rested briefly before counter attacking out of the inner keep.

But instead of charging into a renewed battle with gallant courage, knowing that I would face certain death, and then being rescued by Éomer, the Savior came to me sooner, before I even entered the battle again. He came in a couple of blog posts.

The first was by Andrew Peterson about Harry Potter:

I couldn’t get Harry’s story out of my head. I doubled over in the back of the auditorium and sobbed with gratitude to Jesus for allowing his body to be ruined, for facing the enemy alone, for laying down his life for his friends—Jesus, my friend, brother, hero, and king—Jesus, the Lord of Life, who triumphed o’er the grave—who lives that death may die! Even now, writing those words, my heart catches in my throat. In that moment I was able, because of these books, to worship Christ in a way I never had.

Let me be clear: Harry Potter is NOT Jesus. This story isn’t inspired, at least not in the sense that Scripture is inspired; but because I believe that all truth is God’s truth, that the resurrection is at the heart of the Christian story, and the main character of the Christian story is Christ, because I believe in God the Father, almighty maker of heaven and earth and in Jesus Christ his only begotten son—and because I believe that he inhabits my heart and has adopted me as his son, into his family, his kingdom, his church—I have the freedom to rejoice in the Harry Potter story, because even there, Christ is King. Wherever we see beauty, light, truth, goodness, we see Christ. Do we think him so small that he couldn’t invade a series of books about a boy wizard? Do we think him cut off from a story like this, as if he were afraid, or weak, or worried? Remember when Santa Claus shows up (incongruously) in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe? It’s a strange moment, but to my great surprise I’ve been moved by it. Lewis reminds me that even Father Christmas is subject to Jesus, just as in Prince Caspian the hosts of mythology are subject to him. The Harry Potter story is subject to him, too, and Jesus can use it however he wants. In my case, Jesus used it to help me long for heaven, to remind me of the invisible world, to keep my imagination active and young, and he used it to show me his holy bravery in his triumph over the grave.

I think it fairly obvious how this passage by Andrew began to fight back the hordes that had been standing outside my mind’s door all morning.

Continuing down the Rabbit Room blog, I read the following about U2, written by Stephen Lamb:

Crawling into bed that night, I picked up the book on my bedside table, Ian Cron’s Chasing Francis, a biography of sorts in which a man documents his spiritual journey through journal entries addressed to St. Francis. I opened the book to the page where I had stopped reading two nights earlier and picked up where I left off. Here’s the first thing I read:

Dear Francis,

A few years ago I went to a U2 concert at Madison Square Garden in New York City, just three months after 9/11. Most of us in the arena that night probably knew someone who’d died in the Twin Towers; we’d lost three people in our church alone. I’ll never forget the end of the concert. As the band played the song “Walk On,” the names of all those who had died were projected onto the arena walls and slowly scrolled up over us, and then up toward the ceiling. At that moment the presence of God descended on that room in a way I will never forget. There we were, twenty-five thousand people standing, weeping, and singing with the band. It suddenly became a worship service; we were pushing against the darkness together. I walked out dazed, asking myself, “What on earth just happened?” Of course, it was the music. For a brief moment, the veil between this world and the world to come had been made thin by melody and lyric. If only for a brief few minutes, we were all believers.

This brief excerpt is not all that caused the next thing to happen. I suggest you read the whole post, but as I completed these two blog posts, an overwhelming feeling of God’s goodness, the Holy Spirit’s presence, and the saving work of Jesus Christ washed over me. My eyes were hot with tears, and I slid my chair back and leaned over my knees and cried. I was not thinking about Harry Potter or U2 at that point. I was worshipping my savior who would deign to take the time to reach out of heaven and touch me, as if to say, “Yes, Jason, I am real and powerful and here 2,000 years later. I don’t always come riding to the rescue like Éomer and Gandalf charging the orcs with 2,000 Rhorrihim at their back. Instead I work through little things, through foolish things, through love and word and deed and art and music and small cold glasses of water. I am even present enough to meet you, right now, through two blog posts. I can touch you and show you, through the written word, that I exist.”

It only lasted a minute, but it was real. I realize that many cynics can, at this point, say I simply had an emotional response to two emotionally charged blog posts. But I don’t think so. I am a doctrinally solid believer in Jesus Christ and his written word. I believe that God speaks primarily through that word. I have a working understanding of proper hermeneutics and theology. I don’t think it is normative for God to touch people like this. Yet, I don’t doubt that in many cases this happens. I am not so naive that I don’t think I will ever doubt again. After all, the Battle of the Pelennor Fields happened after the Battle at Helm’s Deep.

But for now, I am content. Soli Deo Gloria.

Visual Reasons We Miss Home

Cousins

waiting for the pool to fill...oh, so slowly, originally uploaded by wenabell.

Kell’s Irish Pub

lucky ceiling @ Kell's, originally uploaded by wenabell.

Trees

big fir, originally uploaded by wenabell.

Mountains

Mt. Hood, originally uploaded by wenabell.

Cannon Beach

Haystack Rock, originally uploaded by wenabell.