Teaching history in high school was not unlike bowling with the “bumpers” in the gutters.

Those bumpers kept me in the lane, provided boundaries (that I often kinda fudged) and helped prepare the students for the inevitable exams, whether from the state or the AP board.

This past fall, Claudia and I went on vacation. Far from home and thrown together with mostly strangers and predominately British, part of the adventure was getting to know people and hearing their stories (I’m looking at you, Nigel and Sue!).

We are just about done with the first full week of Lent. Like me, many of you have not been raised in liturgical traditions that followed this yearly 40 day trek to Easter weekend, but were at least aware of the season. It remains a bit of an unexplored region for me, and I like looking into new ways to grow in faith.

Skipping a stone across Moses’ life reveals a 120 year roller-coaster ride.

• Born at a time of great danger and slavery but rescued by royalty

• Raised in privilege gaining great power and influence

His name is… well, let’s just call him Ralph.

He lives out in the dirt east of Redmond. Plenty young and apparently healthy, Ralph can’t seem to get out of his own way. He sports numerous tattoos, several piercings along with barrels in his ears and always welcomes us when we roll up in the Share Van.

If the weather isn’t too sketchy, I usually ride my bike around town rather than drive. Often I can get where I am going fast enough for me because of traffic, and the bonus is a little exercise and really seeing, feeling, smelling and being part of the world around me.

Last Thursday night Claudia and I went to the Tower Theater and were in the audience for Garrison Keillor. He was in town for one night and the joint was full…of geezers who remember A Prairie Home Companion on public radio every Saturday afternoon.

Back a few years, I had surgery for the “man cancer” so many guys get. After they yanked out the offending lower unit and a short stay in the most expensive bad hotel in town, a good friend gave me a ride home while Claudia was out of town helping our daughter who needed her mom.

Being a routine guy, most of my mornings follow a predictable pattern. I take lots of stuff for granted, and any given morning can stand as an example.

• I roll out of bed to a warm house

• First stop is the bathroom where a toilet flushes and sink water runs to rinse my face
  

Advent began two Sundays ago. Each of the four weeks holds a theme: Hope, Peace, Joy and Love. As believers prepare for the coming of the Christ child, these ideas stand as part of the anticipation for when God himself will move into the neighborhood.

One year while teaching at Bend High, 147 years ago, I decided to ride my recumbent bike to school every day. We then lived out east of town, some six miles from BHS and the commute had its wonders, like spring smells of fresh growth, or mist rising off mowed hay fields, or stunning alpenglow mornings where I stopped and just marveled at how the mountains gleamed before sunup came to the lands below.

The other day I ran across a question while reading that made me stop and ponder. Simple, yet profound. Transparent, yet complex.

“If you had to use a single word to describe Jesus in his life and ministry, what might it be?”

Think of all the possibilities: Wise, loving, compassionate, focused, bold, and many others might come to mind. The article said that when posed that question, Dallas Willard, the USC prof and prolific writer, often on spiritual formation, immediately responded with…relaxed.

Claudia and I have been on a bit of a holiday.

As I write this we are far from home. It is just getting light, and I’m sitting at a worn oak table beside a window looking out on rolling French fields of mowed corn, harvested vineyards, nut orchards and woodlots. The November slate-gray skies and soaking rain make staying in today…inviting. And there’s close to nothing on the agenda.

Poet Jan Richardson writes these lines.

I am not asking you to take this wilderness from me, to remove this place of darkness where I come to know the wildness in me.

But send me tough angels, sweet wine, strong bread: just enough.

So, there I was, sitting in my reading chair early in the morning, tending to my knitting. My bible was open to Luke 6, cruising along, and suddenly I got ambushed by Jesus’ words from the Message translation.

Why are you so polite with me, always saying “Yes, sir,” and “That’s right, sir,” but never doing a thing I tell you? These words I speak to you are not mere additions to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living. They are foundation words, words to build a life on.