The video now playing shows our little Ginny's first steps, dated March 14, 2008.  Who would have thought that her own purple sock would become the motivation for stepping out on her own!

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If you’ve followed this site at all, then you’ve seen pictures of Ginny.  She’s growing and developing faster than we know what to do with.  She was kind enough recently to outline her day for us:

·         My day starts when it’s still dark.  I cry out for some inexplicable reason 1-3 times during the night while I should be sleeping.  This keeps Mommy and Daddy honest.  And nervous.  Oh, and tense that I’m not actually asleep.  Hee hee.

·         Wake for real around 7am, give or take 45 minutes or so.  I usually stand at the end of my crib and look to see if Mommy is awake – if both our doors are open I can see right into their room.  Then I yell.  Then Mommy comes in and gets me.  Daddy’s already long gone for work, and I won’t see him until about quarter after three.

·         Breakfast is fruit and rice cereal.  Yum!  I like to take my eyes off the spoon Mommy’s holding so that I get purple stuff all over my chin.

·         I play on the living room floor while Mommy gets food for herself.  We like to watch the Today Show together. 

·         What happens next depends on how much Mommy needs to get done.  I might play on the floor while she washes dishes.  The best days are when we play peek-a-boo together.  Oh!  And there’s always the door stopper in the hallway to play with – it makes a fun bwinnggggg sound.

·         Then I get grumpy and Mommy puts me in my crib for a nap.  If I’m not tired enough, I stand up in my crib approximately every two minutes so Mommy has to come in and lay me back down again. 

·         (I also have my diaper changed frequently during the day.  I didn’t think you cared about that too much, though.)

·         After the nap is lunch.  It’s usually something homemade, like bananas and berries or broccoli and cauliflower.  All pureed and mushy, of course.  Yum!  Since I have three teeth now, I can have Cheerios one by one and these little rice puff things that I suck on until they turn to mush.  I also started eating bits of bread and other soft stuff recently.

·         After lunch Mommy goes shopping with me sometimes.  I’m usually a very good girl at the store.  Lots of people look and smile at me.  I don’t smile back unless it’s a kid.

·         Daddy gets home, like I said above, after three.  Sometimes I’m already done with my second nap, sometimes I’m in the middle of it, and sometimes I haven’t even started it yet!  I like to keep Mommy and Daddy guessing.  I always smile big when I see Daddy, though.  It is the first time I’ve seen him all day, after all!

·         Sometimes I’m grumpy in the afternoon, sometimes I’m chipper.  No matter what, I like to crawl all around the apartment to grab all the stuff I’m not supposed to: power cords, DVD player, trash can, loose strings in the carpet.  Mommy and Daddy have this word they like: NO.  I know exactly what it means, but when they say it to me, I generally just turn around, smile at them, then continue what I was doing. 

·         Dinner is 5ish and could be a lot of things, lately: all kinds of vegetables, different fruits, and even a little meat.  All mushy, of course.  I like sitting in my high chair and occasionally play with my foot while I eat.

·         Maybe once a week I go with Mommy and Daddy in the evening to a church so that they can talk to the youth group there about missions.  I play with Auntie Erin [that is, Priority 1’s Children’s Ministries Coordinator] in the back and she gives me snacks. 

·         If I have to ride in the car, I don’t like riding home.  I usually cry a lot.  Mommy and Daddy say it’s because I’m tired and need to go to sleep, but all I know is I get strapped in to my chair and can only look out the back window for the entire trip. 

·         Before bed, I get one last bottle, for which I clamor expectantly.  I usually fall asleep in Mommy’s arms and she puts me into my crib for the night.  I suck exclusively on my left thumb.  Daddy’s hoping – I can tell – that I’m going to be a lefty like him.

What I am about to confess may estrange some of you forever from me, but I feel the need to come clean.

I enjoy getting presents for Christmas.

Whew!  That feels better.  I feel significantly lighter from the unwieldy burden lifted from my shoulders.

I daresay many people feel this way, even some adults, despite the fact that we should have outgrown such infantile fancies years ago.  Perhaps I shall go even further and state my suspicion that there may exist somewhere even some Christians who like getting presents for Christmas.  They’re hiding and they’re quiet, but be assured that they exist. 

A pastor I respect (and still do) referred to Christmas recently as a celebration of greed.  The congregation chuckled knowingly.  I thought to myself, “Yeah, but I bet you’re still going to give and get presents this year, and I bet you enjoy it!” 

Has Christmas become commercial?  Absolutely.  Is a holy celebration of the birth of Jesus perverted by our society into something entirely secular that focuses our attentions and energies on superficial, fleeting things?  Undoubtedly.  Even Charlie Brown in his classic Christmas special (Note, by the way, that it’s not a holiday special, it’s a Christmas special) lamented the commercialism pervading the Christmas season. 

But what’s wrong with enjoying a gift?  When we complain so much about the materialism of the holiday, we imply that it’s wrong – even sinful – to participate in the tradition of exchanging gifts on Christmas.

Of course we aren’t implying that, some may respond.  We’re simply pointing out that focusing on the gifts takes our eyes off of Jesus and directs them towards our own selfish desires.  I agree: the day belongs to Jesus, and is in fact a birthday party for Him.  Let’s keep our eyes on Jesus and let all other things fall where they may.

But why can’t I enjoy the guitar pedal that I’m probably going to get from my grandmother? (She asks us every year, usually before Halloween, for a Christmas list)

When my wife and I taught about Christmas to our students in China, we talked about the origin of the tradition of giving gifts, and that there were three presentations of gifts that day way back when: God’s gift of His Son to humanity, Jesus’ (eventual) gift of His life in place of ours, and (of course) the gifts of the Magi to the baby Jesus.  Gift giving is a part of Christmas, whether we like it or not.

Here’s one of the weird little ironies of the Christian faith: without selfish pride, we would never get into Heaven.

It’s true: I reached out and grasped for God because I want a better life for myself.  I want to go to Heaven!  I want to be with Jesus one day!  I want I want I want!  John Eldredge in The Journey of Desire puts it this way:

I enjoy [my son] Luke because he has more undisguised and unadulterated desire than anyone I know.  He is “out there” with his desire and his disappointments.  When we go over to someone’s house for dinner, the first thing he’ll ask will always be, “Is there dessert?”  Part of me has tried to train this out of him; part of me admires the fact that he isn’t embarrassed by his desire, like the rest of us.  He is unashamed.  We hide our true desire and call it maturity.  Jesus is not impressed.  He points to the less sophisticated attitude of a child as a better way to live.

It’s true, I don’t really want or need stuff for Christmas the way I did when I was younger.  But why guilt-trip the simple joy out of a wonderful tradition?  Enjoy the presents you get this year, and remember that all good things come from God above.  Thank your Lord, then tear into it!

Those of you who have taught 8^th grade know. You parents likely know as well.

People are going to think what they want to think, no matter what, and regardless of what you might do or say, they will not change their opinions. Calm, rational discussions are anathema to these people. A fight is always better.

Eighth graders could be paid for how well they avoid reason and logic. They just want to win, at almost any cost. Something happens during the summer after 7^th grade that causes kids to grow up into spoiled little adults who know exactly what they want and how and when they want it. And they’re right. They’re always right. Bratty little…

But I’m not slamming eighth graders. It’s a tough year: too old to claim they’re just kids, too young to really be able to do anything cool (legally, anyway), stuck in the quagmire of junior high school. Add puberty onto that, and it’s a powder keg inside a Zippo store.

Having taught 8^th grade, I know how much one needs to measure one’s words before speaking. Any lapse in forethought, any misspoken word, will be attacked mercilessly. They’ll find the weakness in your argument, the hole in your armor (whether personal or academic), the flaw in your thinking, and they’ll exploit it.

But why? Why does this happen? How can such sweet 7^th graders turn into such masochistic 8^th graders?

I believe there are two main possibilities.

The first is human depravity. I believe in this Augustinian doctrine, because the Bible makes a rather clear case for it (things were quite peachy until A&E ate that apple and blamed each other, a la Divorce Court; direct results: shame, banishment, fear, pain, death), but also because I’ve seen it myself. Do kids need to be taught to be bad? No, they need taught how to be good. We’re born with dead souls and black hearts, and only Jesus can give us life again. Eighth graders are sinners, just like everyone else in the world, including yours truly. Ultimately, sin (and specifically pride, in my opinion) messes everything up. Good thing I believe in grace, too.

But human depravity offers only a general explanation, but it can’t account for the specifics. No, I think 8^th graders are sometimes so nasty because they grow eyes: eyes that see what we adults are doing.

It’s election season. Ever heard of two candidates who didn’t try as hard as they could to destroy the reputation of the other? They might state that they’re running a clean, fair campaign, but after my extensive research (which entails sitting here and thinking about it for ten seconds or so), I can come up with none.

Ever hear Democrats and Republicans talk about each other? They hate each other. Hate. And it manifests itself every time they open their mouths.

Ever been through a church split? Have a family argument? Go to a sporting event? We spew hatred at each other all the time, and our kids see us. Kids learn stuff quick.

Simon and Garfunkle sing in “The Boxer,” “All lies and jest: still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.” Look to the Arab world today. There is nothing at all that the Pope or President Bush or anyone else, for that matter, could say to stop the hatred they have for everyone who’s not Muslim. The Pope quotes a centuries-old manuscript by a guy who called Muslims evil, and then apologizes after an Islamic uproar ensues, and still we see Benny the 16^th burning in effigy and startling images of Arabic peoples who have apparently nothing else to do but respond violently and in large numbers. A few churches were burned, and one nun was even murdered in apparent retaliation.

What is going on?!?

I don’t know, but those junior highers see what’s going on around them. We all become our parents to some degree, much to the dismay of the kids and the parents (if they’re honest with themselves). Kids learn the hate that they see.

The recent spikes in Islamic pride and volatility should remind us that we as Christians need to be the grownups. We mustn’t get suckered into a fight just because someone pushes one of our Angry buttons. I soberly confess my numerous failures to transcend the fray and be the adult when it came to my 8^th graders (or my 7^th or 11^th graders even), and was drawn into a fight I couldn’t win, but which only had the result of angering me and draining me emotionally.

“But we’re right and they’re wrong!” some may say. “How can we let such assaults on truth and goodness go un-responded-to?”

I recall some advice I was given during marriage counseling: The relationship is more important than being right. Jesus was astoundingly quiet when people, many his friends and disciples, hurled rocks and insults at him, yet he remained silent. “Stand up for yourself, Lord!” I want to shout to my open Bible. “Don’t let them lie about you!” But there he stood, silent and sacrificing.

Let God have justice. God has sent us into the earth to love people, not to prove that everyone else is wrong.

There’s something you won’t learn in school.

“Crazy Christians.”

That’s the title of a controversial sketch on the fictitious comedy show portrayed on Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. The NBC drama depicts the goings-on behind the scenes of a very Saturday Night Live-like television show whose executive producer, in the series’ pilot, shocked all by hijacking his own show, denouncing the network executives (his bosses) for the mediocrity his own show had become. Evidently he was tired of settling for cheap laughs instead of smart satire. What prompted his tirade was one of the network executives forcing him to cut a certain skit, entitled “Crazy Christians,” from the lineup. For the executive, the sketch was unnecessarily provocative, and would lead to protests the network didn’t want. For the producer, it was the last straw.

The show within the show makes some changes. The executive producer who lambasted the network is fired, and the new, edgy female president brings in Matthew Perry and Bradley Whitford, who had previously worked for the show, to come back and restore it to its former glory. The network president’s first directive to the pair: run “Crazy Christians” the following week. Get that edge back.

So both the show within the show and, apparently, the real show (sorry about the awkward wording) have decided that Christians are fair game and that no amount of protest will sway them from mocking evangelical Jesus-lovers.

Bring it on, I say.

So far, I like Studio 60. It’s smart and well-written, with quick, intelligent dialogue and interesting characters just like writer Aaron Sorkin’s previous shows, Sports Night and, one of my all-time favorites, The West Wing. I think I still prefer The West Wing because it dealt with real issues, not just the friction and petty drama between actors and writers on a comedy show, but at least Aaron Sorkin’s back writing again.

But I digress.

I imagine that Sorkin and the producers will welcome any protest that comes about because of Studio 60, because of the attention the show will receive. Any press is good press, right? Why not? Controversy attracts attention, and the makers of a TV show want as many people to watch their show as possible. If Studio 60 comes under attack because Christians are crying foul, the number of viewers will increase just because people will want to see what all the fuss is about.

I am very interested to see if Christians like Dr. James Dobson and Pat Robertson will have anything to say about Studio 60. Will they take the bait? Will they protest the negative light the show shines on Christians?

Some will claim the show makes fun of Christians. But so what?

Are we really supposed to fight as hard as we do to ensure that we are portrayed well in mass media today? Why? Why are we afraid that people will laugh at us?

Our society does not take us seriously. We’re a joke, an anachronism, a bunch of impressionable simpletons who believe in ghosts and want to impose our eccentric views on the rest of the world. Oh, we’re also arrogant, dogmatic, and self-righteous bigots. And amazingly, we have a reputation of hatefulness: of homosexuals, anyone associated with abortion, and (worst of all) Democrats.

We deserve to be made fun of. Even if we didn’t, society would make fun of us just to get us all hot and bothered, because we fall for it every time. We’re the kid in elementary school who lashes out every time he’s called a certain nickname, the kid who doesn’t realize that if he stopped reacting to the name, it would lose its power, and kids would stop using it on him.

If we can’t laugh at ourselves, then we’ve truly become what many already consider us.