It Moved...

So, I haven't been around writing. Actually I have but what is written is in the 'draft' section as they have all been deemed 'not suitable for public viewing' because of their likelihood to offend people. So it goes. Maybe I will post them. The problem is that with knowledge of older posts it becomes blatantly obvious who they refer to.

Anyway some updates.

I changed the template for the blog. I felt a change of scenery might make we more enthusiastic about coming back.

I have been officially Licensed through WACC and BGC/Converge as a Minister. I immediately began work on my Endorsement for chaplaincy through the denomination and am currently in the final stage of that process. I have an interview with a BGC chaplain later this month who will... well I don't quite know what she will want to know that isn't in my application. Anyway, it's happening. After this is completed I will begin work towards Ordination, which I hope to have done by the end of the year.

I finished my second and third unit of my chaplaincy internship and just began my fourth and final unit at Children's. I'm the old man of the group, a dispenser of wisdom, a brilliant guiding light, and I am still the youngest by at least 22 years or more. Nice. I will be finished in December.

And last but not least, I am going to be a father.

Desperately Seeking Ordination

There's something about aligning myself with a group, any group, that I find... distasteful.

Why then am I desperately seeking ordination? I need a job! I have been putting off joining a denomination because of this history of disgust with groups but now I must suck it up. In particular, aligning myself based on my beliefs is quite difficult for me. I was called a heretic at Biola, I was called a heretic at Talbot, too conservative for some of the other chaplains, something about how people want to place themselves within the bounds of a group is confusing to me.

So I applied for a per diem chaplain position with San Diego Hospice last month. Requirements: MDiv... check, 1 unit of CPE... check, endorsement of a denomination.... ugh. They would not pass on my resume because I didn't have my ordination/endorsement. Since that time I have diligently been working toward making it happen.

Normally a minister seeking ordination would simply work through their current church, however our current church is not formerly affiliated with a denomination. Our previous church in LA, Whittier Area Community Church, was awesome and part of the Baptist General Conference. Pastor Bill said that he would write a letter on my behalf to any church I became affiliated with, which is extremely helpful. The only other church I know in San Diego is also BGC and came highly recommended is Flood. I met briefly after a service with the lead pastor and he seemed to think that I would be able to work with them toward my ordination. I left there encouraged and I'm hoping to meet with him again and talk about how this might work.

So it's in process. I'm sort of waiting for the leaders of Flood to make the next move though. I already sent them an email, I'm trying to be patient. Never have I been so close to being able to do what I want to do for a career.

Way Freakin' Busy

This has been an immersive few months at the hospital, that's why I haven't been able to write much. That and the fact that all the cool stories I could put in a blog would be illegal thanks to the HIPAA bastards. My goals for this unit have been much heavier than they were last time, focusing on caring for chronically ill children and being a support to families who experience death in the hospital. And so far I have been able to work with many families that fit those two categories.

I have gotten to know a lot of families in our Oncology unit. I would have to say that it has been some of the most meaningful work I've done so far. Some of these families are at the hospital for months and we get to come along side them from the day of their diagnosis to the day they finish treatment. It's a bond that is powerful if correctly fostered by staff and utilized by families.

400 hours down! 400 more by June 5th!

Back To The Hospital

Tomorrow I start a new semester at the hospital. I'm not sure what units I will be covering this time, although I do know that they will be in a higher acuity floor. The last 6 months were great and I am looking forward to the next as well. But a major difference from last semester is that this time I will be working full-time rather than only part-time. I have to be at the hospital 40 hours a week in order to attain all the clinical hours needed. It's going to be a lot of time. If I miss a day, I'll have to make it up on my weekends. If for some reason I missed a week, say I got sick, I would not be very happy trying to make up all that time. But it's not all bad, by June I will have 2 more units completed and have a total of 3 of the 4 needed to be certified.

And on a completely different note. This was my 100th blog post. I'm sure there are people who can do that in a month, well it took me about 2 1/2 years! Huzzah!

A Diver Comes

It's been a bit of an emotional and tiring week.

On Monday I received a text from a friend saying that a student and friend of mine, Andy Caldera, had gone into the hospital and that the doctors believed he would not survive the day. Andy had been fighting an increasingly tough battle with cancer for the last 10 months. I was thankful that this was happening on a Monday, any other day and I would have been at work. So I drove up to Los Angeles to see Andy and be whatever support I could to the family.

Something that working in a hospital gives you is some insight into what can reasonably be done, especially for someone in Andy's position. I stood in the ER with the family and the doctor in charge as he began to say some things that "could" be done. As I listened to the invasive, painful, and ultimately useless procedures that the doctor dangled before the family as a glimmer of hope. I couldn't help but be saddened knowing none of them could or would be done and that the good doctor had made the inevitable all the harder. When you have a Urologist telling you what could be done in the lungs, be skeptical. I couldn't bring myself to tell Andy's dad that those things wouldn't happen, it's not my place, especially when he spoke with such hope because of what the doctor had said. Hope is not something to be dashed.

On November 17, just 10 days after his 18th birthday, Andy died in the presence of his family and friends. Andy had been in the small group I led for two years while at Wacc. In fact, he was the first student I befriended in the youth ministry. When I began volunteering in the High School Ministry, the first event I attended was the "Lasertag Overnighter". As the night began I suddenly realized that I didn't know any staff or students and that I would be locked in the same room with these complete strangers for 12 hours... it was going to be a long night. I grabbed some pizza and sat to eat alone, how I imagined most of the night would be. Then from across the room I see a big, tall, hairy high schooler wearing an Underoath shirt looking my way. He motioned to his friends and walked toward me, introducing himself as Andy. He and his friends sat down and we all started talking. One of the first things we did was play a game that would become one of our favorites: "Hot Seat". In the game the person in the hot seat has to answer any question posed no matter what it may be. I answered every question they asked, including some you don't often share with near strangers. That night the group of guys went to John, the Youth Pastor, and asked if I could be their small group leader. And thus history was made. I'm glad I was able to work with Andy and all the guys in my small group. I can honestly say that I loved them all. I don't think it was coincidence that I was their leader, or that I would be in Whittier exactly 2 years and move just as they graduated. Or that I would become a hospital chaplain and then be able to use that later with his family. Not for a second.

As I was driving back to San Diego at around 1am I began to think of a song for Andy. A song that I felt was able to encapsulate Andy's life and my feelings. If this sounds weird, it comes from when my sister died. A song that was played at her memorial was Alphaville's "Forever Young". To this day when I hear it I think of her. So now Andy needed a song, or rather I needed a song for Andy. I thought long and hard, nothing seemed right. Then I was struck with the obviousness of he choice because it is my favorite song by Sigur Ros. I opened my mouth and said the name of my favorite song of theirs, "Sæglópur". And immediately that very song began playing on the radio... did I say earlier that I don't believe in coincidence? In case you are saying: "Well of course they are playing the number one song on the pop charts!" know that this song is off an album that is 3 years old and... oh yea... in Icelandic. Not exactly something you hear on the radio, actually now that I think about it I have never heard it on the radio before that night.



It's an amazing song, so full of emotion. And that night as I drove home it was a beautiful reminder to me of Andy's struggle to survive. Sæglópur means "a lost seafarer" and any sailor worth his salt will fight to return home to his family and friends.

Sæglópur, á lífi
A lost seafarer, alive

kominn heim
has returned home

Sometimes those who are lost are able to find their way home. Sometimes those with cancer are able to fend it off and go on living their lives. As the song plays out the music slowly ramps up higher and higher to a fever pitch. I imagine the lost sailor struggling against harsh winds and heavy seas. The battle has become hopeless yet there is nothing that can be done except to push on. In a crescendo, the sailor is thrown overboard. Unlike the others that piloted their ships safely into port, there will be no triumphant homecoming. Or so he thinks.

það kemur kafari
a diver comes

kominn heim
has returned home

Out of the murky depths a diver comes for the unlucky sæglópurs who never made it home in this life. The diver makes the journey for them and brings them home once again. And as I think of Andy taking his final breath in that hospital room, in my mind a diver comes. A diver came to bring Andy to his eternal home. At the moment Andy died their was a feeling of peace where we all silently waited. Before I even knew he was gone, we knew. It had changed, the air had changed. His struggle was over and we were all relieved.


This is for the sæglópur, finally at home. I will miss you.

Where Soul Meets Body

I know I haven't been writing much lately. I've been busy and nothing has seemed to come up to write about. A thought I had a while ago was to share the reflections I have done with the other chaplains. This was today's reflection.

Last week I was listening to Pandora.com (all thanks go to Dan) and listened to a song I hadn't heard in a long time and a band that I don't normally listen to while partaking of the Muse station: "Soul Meets Body" by Death Cab For Cutie. During my reflection I played the song and typed out the lyrics for everyone to have.



For some reason I was particularly struck by the song at this time. I had heard it before but something had changed. It had a different meaning this go around for me. As I was listening to the beginning:

I want to live where soul meets body
And let the sun wrap its arms around me
And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing
And feel, feel what its like to be new

Here is, what I presume to be, some sort of immaterial being who wants desperately to become human, the only way for a soul and body to be one. Life is beautiful and it wants to experience what it can only be an observer of.

Cause in my head there’s a greyhound station
Where I send my thoughts to far off destinations
So they may have a chance of finding a place
where they’re far more suited than here

The bus station has sort of become an iconic spot for a new beginning. You can get anywhere you want at the least expensive price. It reminds me of Red from "The Shawshank Redemption" as he rides the greyhound to his new life and says: "I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it is the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend, and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope". It's knowing we are finally where we belong.

And I cannot guess what we'll discover
When we turn the dirt with our palms cupped like shovels
But I know our filthy hands can wash one another’s
And not one speck will remain

A new life doesn't mean it will be perfect, you still get your hands dirty, but it's worth it. And perhaps most importantly is that we are not alone in this journey.

As I think about my work, it is easy to focus on death. Death is all around. Hell, last week I saw a dead kid in one of the morgue freezers. A kid we had been visiting and had died over the weekend. With babies in the NICU going through so much to live and generally kids spending more time in the hospital than school it's easy to think of them not getting to live a "full life"... however you measure that.

But as I was listening to this song I had thought that went through my head that I enjoyed a great deal. Perhaps all our souls were like the beginning of this song, aching so badly to live. The baby in the NICU, the kid on Hem/Onc with cancer, or the little one in PICU all decided to live despite knowing full well the pains that they might one day face because of how amazing it would be. It is where they belong, no matter how short or long it may be.

And if you are reading this thinking that they didn't get to make a difference, it couldn't be further from the truth. The effect of the lives of these kids, whether 1 day or 17 years, has a profound impact on so many people. It's amazing to see.

My Rock'N'Roll Lifestyle

Rachelle comes home from work and asks what I did today. The answer has been the same the last couple weeks: Watching the Euro Cup in HD and reading. It's been pretty great.

When we decided to move, I didn't want to get any cable or direct tv. Rachelle did though, and I understand that she likes to relax after a long day of work by watching some of her favorite shows. I certainly didn't want to get Tivo, not because I don't like them per se, but because I don't want any machine that helps me watch more TV than I already do. But I have to say that I really have been enjoying the HD channels I never had before for 2 reasons. They look amazing, I can't even tell I'm watching TV instead of a dvd. And there are only about 15 channels; if there aren't anything on those channels I just turn it off. It's great.











The best has been the Euro Cup. You can see the blades of grass on the pitch. Looking forward to the final match between Germany and Spain this Sunday.


Like I said, the only other thing I've really been doing is reading. That's been great too just because my reading has always been forced due to school. Now I get to read what I want to or books I feel would be more helpful in my immediate work.



















I recently finished this book, which was very helpful in framing my goals and intentions when I get into my hospital chaplaincy work. Kubler-Ross was a pioneer in the field of thanatology and the insights she presents are invaluable. I think the most powerful lesson I took from this book was how to talk to children about death. She makes the point that when death is explained to a child either "sleep" is used as an example causing children to believe they will return, or parents simply say "they went to be with Jesus" and how many children view that as a non-answer parents are prone to give, such as "because I said so". Kubler-Ross uses "symbolic language" to honestly deal with the situation and answer the questions they may have.



















I think Jeff probably read this once a year when we were in college, maybe more. I had always wanted to give it a whirl and finally I had the time. I enjoyed it. Read it in just a day and a half. Despite it's futuristic bent/alien war themes it really wasn't as science fiction-y as I thought it would be. More of a war/psychology story set in the future. I did like how Card flushed out the Peter and Valentine characters more. I thought they were only going to be used in the beginning to contrast with Ender but they ended up having a larger role than simply that.



















The sequel to Ender's Game, the two have very little in common other than a changed Ender who was praised in the first book as a hero is now considered a mass murderer. Now Ender must save a new alien species and give a new beginning to the one he destroyed. I thought it was pretty good. I didn't read it as fast as the previous but it still kept my attention. I may continue reading the rest of the series at some point, but for now I have moved on to other fare.

So yea, this is what I do right now. Oh and think heretical thoughts. They're revolving around inerrancy at the moment.

The End Of May

The past few weeks have been a flurry of activity.

Rachelle graduated with her Masters of Science in Nursing.














She will now be rockin' the NICU of Sharp Mary Birch Hospital for Women as the Clinical Nurse Specialist.




















I graduated with my Masters of Divinity. I will now be rockin' the trophy husband lifestyle full-time!












Actually, I just heard back from the chaplains at Rady Children's Hospital and they offered me the internship over there. I have no idea how that happened but I'm excited nonetheless. Rachelle's hospital and this one are about 20 yards away from each other. Awesomeness.















I spoke one last time at the Wacc High School service. There wasn't as many people as normal due to the holiday weekend, but it was still great to see everyone I did. If you are so inclined, you may listen here.

The movers came, hauled away all our stuff and then had to lug it up two flights of stairs to our new apartment. The whole process plus driving took about 12 hours. Hiring those movers was some of the best money I have ever spent! If it hadn't been for them, Eric and I would have been moving most the stuff and then, I daresay, he and I wouldn't be friends anymore. Not sure about Eric, but I would hate any person who asked me to willingly go through what they did.

Had the pleasure of meeting my first neighbor during the move. She announced her "welcome" with repeated honkings. The moving truck had partially blocked her garage and she sat behind it wailing on the horn, driving around the lot, and then honking some more. When the mover asked if he could guide her in, she refused because she had to "drive straight in". I then introduced myself as her new neighbor and tried to shake her hand, which she eyed warily not wanting to touch me. I asked if it were at all possible for her to park in the myriad of spots a mere 2 feet away, alas that was too much to ask. We moved the truck so she could drive "straight in" to avoid her calling the rental office because they would "make you move". A fine woman.

Boxes are being unpacked, but still much to do.