A Celebration of Bill Monroe’s Birthday

The “Father of Bluegrass Music” is Bill Monroe, the first recording artist to incorporate into his band the five acoustic instruments (mandolin, 5-strinbill monroeg banjo played three-finger style, fiddle, guitar and string bass) that make up a classic bluegrass ensemble. He was born September 13, 1911 in Rosine, Kentucky, 104 years ago. September 13 fell on a Sunday this year so I played a lot of Bill Monroe music on my Sunday night radio show. For at least a month, you can listen to it in it’s entirety at kson.com/bluegrass.  Included are performances of Monroe songs by Monroe himself as well as other artists including Ricky Skaggs, Sam Bush, Jerry Douglas, Tom T. Hall, Robert Earl Keen, Dwight Yoakum and Elvis Presley.

I do recount on the show a couple of personal Bill Monroe experiences from the days when I was a member of Brush Arbor. We opened for him at the Palomino Club in North Hollywood and that’s one time when I was so nervous I remember breaking into a flop sweat. During one of our faster songs, my thumb-pick flew off my thumb and landed somewhere in the audience. Fortunately, my brother Jim had an extra thumb-pick nearby and handed me one.

We also played a bluegrass festival that same year (1973) which was called “Bill Monroe’s Golden West Bluegrass Festival” in Norco, California. The promoter of the show invited us to play but wouldn’t allow us to set up our drums. Bill Monroe intervened, however, and gave us permission to go ahead and set up our drums on the stage, which was generally a no-no at bluegrass festivals. Today it’s a lot more common, but that experience convinced me that a lot of bluegrass fans put more limits on the music than even the Father of Bluegrass Music himself did. He always encouraged young musicians to play their own music, not just copy what everyone else was doing. Bluegrass music today is much richer and still alive and well because of that.  Happy birthday, Bill Monroe!

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So Long Eucalyptus Hills, Hello Alpine!

100_5799aLast week Marci and I moved out of our home in Lakeside after 37 years. Located in Eucalyptus Hills, it was a wonderful house that we purchased in 1978 after a couple years in another house just up the street. We leave behind a ton of memories in that old house which was built in the 1950’s and moved onto the property in 1972. We did some remodeling along the way and added a driveway, lots of landscaping, a swimming pool and an office/bedroom over the garage among other things. We added so much to the house, I think, that it simply became too big for just Marci and me. In this house, we raised our family, started a church, ran a business/ministry, hosted weddings and celebrated holidays, especially Easter Sunday. This is the house that our children will remember as their home for many years to come, even though it now has a new owner.

easter musicThe decision to sell the house and downsize was accelerated somewhat by our visit last summer to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. It was there that we learned Marci’s disability was caused by a disease called MS and was not curable. Since walking up and down stairs was nearly impossible for Marci, we knew we needed to move to a home without stairs. We also knew that we needed to reduce our expenses considerably since I was planning to resign from the church and could no longer afford the upkeep that a big house requires.

Of course, the decision to move was a hard one emotionally. Telling our children that we were selling the house was almost like telling them we were dying. Of course, we ARE dying, but not just now. The house on the other hand, has to go right away. Besides feeling sad about the decision, we also felt a sense of extreme anxiety. What would we do with all our “stuff?” After 37 years in the same place, you tend to collect a lot of things. We have plenty of storage spaces at the house in the basement, in the garage, in the attic and in two outbuildings. Besides the usual kinds of household items, I collected 40 years of bluegrass LP’s and CD’s from my years as a bluegrass disc-jockey. I also wrote a few books and stashed them in the garage, in the office, under the house and anywhere else I could put them. I do not throw away albums that I listen to and I don’t throw away books that I read. I am a man of many bookcases.

And then there is the memorabilia. I am a collector of memories. I have all sorts of youth ministry memorabilia from my Youth Specialties days that I have no idea what to do with. And having played in several bluegrass bands, I have instruments, sound equipment and music paraphernalia that normal people don’t have. What to do with all this stuff? (In the end, it took three garage sales, a few dumpsters and the rental of a storage unit.)

The other problem was just getting the house ready to sell. It needed a lot of repairs. Some things were little things (like replacing the window screens) and some things were big (like replacing the entire septic system). After my resignation from the church, I spent most of my time (January through June) on this project. One repair seemed to lead to another. It was never-ending, it seemed.

But finally we put the house on the market at the end of June. We met with our realtor (the same one who sold us the house in the first place, Norm Orgel) and started the process by agreeing on a selling price. There were times when I felt like the price was too high (who would pay such a price for an old house like ours?) and other times when I thought we priced it too low (who wouldn’t want to live in an old house like this one with so many happy memories attached to it?)

After the house went on the market (Friday, June 19), Marci and I decided to take a couple days off and go to Rosarito, Mexico for a little R&R. We were exhausted. By the time we got home on Sunday, our realtor informed us that we had an offer on the house … for the full asking price.  We were of course elated. The prospective buyer of our home agreed to our “counter-offer” which was simply to give us a 90 day escrow period so that we could find another place to live.

The house-hunting began in earnest a couple of weeks later after we attended my aunt Mabel’s 100th birthday party in Florida on July 4th weekend. Our realtor signed us up for a real-estate search program that delivered potential houses to our email in-boxes every day. I began to realize that we were perhaps dreaming to think we could find a house that could meet our needs and also fit into our price range. The homes we liked were all way too expensive.

The housing market in San Diego was also heating up in July. Houses didn’t stay on the market very long so we had to move quickly on houses we liked. During the month of July we looked at about 15 homes and couldn’t pull the trigger on any of them. There was always something about the house that didn’t seem right. Our search included east San Diego, La Mesa, El Cajon, Spring Valley, Santee and Lakeside. We wanted to stay in the same general area we lived in before.

As August was getting closer, we were starting to feel a little more urgency because I had a mission trip to Mexico coming up in a couple of weeks. Maybe we needed to just rent a house until we could find something that we wanted to buy? But that would mean moving twice. Still, it seemed like a viable solution, so I started looking on Craigslist and Zillow for rental properties around San Diego. Suitable homes for rent were few and far between. The ones that I visited were in terrible locations or the houses were dingy and smelled like cigarettes.

Then a house showed up for rent in Alpine. I really hadn’t considered Alpine as a place to buy a home but we could possibly rent there if the house was right. So we went to look at it and it was very nice, in a community called Crown Hills. But we were too late. Someone else had already applied to rent the house. We were second on the list and would be contacted in the other renter didn’t have a decent credit score or backed out for some reason.

IMG_20150905_142537442aWe didn’t get that house but we discovered that there were other houses for sale in that same neighborhood. We visited three homes in Crown Hills and the third was the charm. Marci loved it and so did I. We didn’t want to make an impulse buy so we waited one day … then contacted our realtor to make an offer on the house. Our offer was accepted right away and we got the house. We discovered later that the family selling the house connected with us because of our Christian faith, which they likely learned about from our Jewish realtor Norm.

The move happened on Friday, August 29 and the whole experience was both exhausting and exhilarating. We couldn’t have done it without the generosity and hard work of friends and family members who helped us get things packed up in boxes and then help us load and unload on moving day.  Everything arrived safely and now we are trying to unpack, find things and figure out where to put them. We still have way too much stuff.

IMG_20150906_180431107aBut we love our new home in Alpine.  We are so grateful to God for his provision. We wake up every morning feeling like we’re on vacation—but with a very large suitcase since all our stuff is here. There is an artificial brook that runs behind the house which reminds us of the living water which Jesus continually supplies to our hearts. It is God who delivered this house to us and we want it to become a place where God is honored and Christ is served. Come visit us when you can.

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Lost and Found Keys in Mexico

This little girl now has a new house!

This little girl now has a new house!

I just returned from another incredible week of ministry in Mexico. For the past six years, I’ve led a family (intergenerational) mission trip designed to give families and individuals an immersion experience in serving the poor and living in community with each other for a few days. We built a house for young Mexican family, conducted a daily Vacation Bible School (VBS) program for neighborhood children and this year we helped a local Mexican church build a new multi-purpose building that will provide a place for youth and children’s ministry, feeding programs and medical/dental services.

The week couldn’t have gone much better. We had a group of 32 people ranging in age from 7 to 70 and we built a lovely home for the Ramirez-Perez family, appointed with some very nice furnishings that were generously supplied by members of our team. Their previous home was a plywood hut covered with tarps and a dirt floor. What a blessing it is to be able to change someone’s living conditions in such a short time.

Our VBS program went very well, with about 40 children attending each day. They played games, won candy prizes, memorized Bible verses, sang songs, did craft projects and heard “The Big God Story” from the Bible in their own language every day. I was amazed by how the children listened and learned so well. Our goal is to bring joy to the lives of children during the summer and to plant the seeds of the gospel in their hearts. Mission accomplished!

IMG_20150811_123340247During the week we gave all the children white t-shirts with the words “Dios está conmigo” printed on the front (which means “God is with me.”) These shirts were connected to the Bible story of Joseph and his coat of many colors. God was with Joseph, the Bible says, and so he was able to accomplish great things even though his brothers treated him badly and sold him into slavery. The children saw the story acted out in front of them, and then they decorated their new shirts with colorful fabric paints.

Dios está conmigo became the theme of the week. Certainly God was with me on Tuesday night. I lost the keys to my truck … I just couldn’t find them anywhere. I looked high and low—in and around the truck, in and around my bunk bed, in and around the camp (YUGO’s Ensenada Outeach Center). I went to the evening “chapel” service feeling frustrated, worried and very distracted about my keys. I just had to find them. Where could they be? During the worship time (singing), I got up and went to look some more. Still, no luck. I came back into the meeting and tried to listen to the speaker but I was getting more and more anxious. Not only did I lose my truck keys (in Mexico!) but the keys to my house, my office, my radio station locker, etc. etc. I was feeling really stupid. I didn’t want to have to tell anybody that I lost my keys. I’m a leader after all! How embarrassing!

We all had little notebooks where we’re supposed to take notes on the chapel speaker. But I was thinking about my keys and what would happen if I couldn’t find them. I didn’t hear a word the speaker was saying. Then I started praying. I wrote down the “Anxiety” and asked God for help with that. I crossed out the word Anxiety and wrote “Trust God” beneath it. I also wrote down the word “Embarrassing.” Eventually I crossed it out and wrote “Humility” beneath it.

After the evening chapel service, we met together as a team and I admitted to everyone that I had lost my keys. Immediately they began to ask me questions and offer suggestions: “Did you look in the ignition, in the bathroom, in your sleeping bag, in your suitcase, in your pockets, etc. etc.” I answered “Yes, yes, yes ….” Everyone was very sympathetic of course and promised to keep their eyes open for a clump of car keys. Hopefully they would turn up. They’ve got to be around here somewhere, right?

Then we prayed together as a team. I asked several of the children on the team to pray, and they did. They were very sweet prayers and one of the girls prayed especially that I would find my keys.

It was about then that I got the idea to look in the big garbage can where I had dumped trash from my truck earlier in the day. Could my keys be in there?

Swallowing my pride, I started picking through the garbage can, one piece at a time. The can was completely full. I found some of the trash from my truck, but no keys. As I got closer and closer to the bottom of the can, I knew this was a bad (not to mention disgusting) idea. I was getting pretty discouraged.

Then one of our team members shined a flashlight into the can and suddenly I saw a sparkle. There they were! All the way down at the bottom of the garbage can. I grabbed the keys and put my hands in the air … Thank you Lord! This can would certainly have been emptied during the night and the keys lost, probably forever. But God was with me, I truly believe that. I went to bed—not only with my keys in a safe place—but with confidence that the prayers of a young girl had been answered.

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MexiGO! 2015

One of the things that I continue to do at College Avenue Baptist Church is to organize and lead a family mission trip to Mexico. Here is a video that describes the trip. Thanks to my buddy Ed Watts for putting it together.

MEXIGOFINAL1a1 from College Avenue on Vimeo.

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Not Just a Desk

desk - back viewI sold my desk this week for $75.

I put it on Craigslist, first for $300, then for $200, then for $100. Somebody offered me $50 and we settled on $75. I even delivered the desk across town in my truck for that.

And then I came home and cried.

Emotions run deep when you part with something that has been a big part of your life for so long. I remember when my friend and business partner Mike Yaconelli and I went to an office furniture store in downtown San Diego to buy that desk about 35 years ago. We were moving Youth Specialties to a new location in El Cajon and since I was going to have a nice big office, I needed a nice big desk.  We picked out an impressive, solid oak executive desk that cost more than $2000. It was an extravagant expenditure for a fledgling company like ours but we were dreamers and we were dreaming big.

About five years later when Youth Specialties had grown and we had more employees than we had space to put them all, I decided to build an office over my garage at home. After all, Mike had moved his office to Yreka, California which was over 400 miles away. There was no reason I couldn’t move mine to Lakeside, which was only about 5 miles away.

Eventually I left Youth Specialties and I didn’t take much with me … except that desk. It has been my place of work for more than three decades.  And because I consider work and worship to be pretty much the same thing (which is Biblical, by the way), in a very real sense that desk has been my altar. I gave God my best every single day at that desk. It is stained with blood, sweat and tears.

But now the desk is gone.

I sold it because we are planning to move to a new home soon, one that won’t have room for a big desk like mine.  We are downsizing.

Marci understood my tears and tried to console me. She knew it wasn’t just a desk.  I’m glad it’s now going to be used again. The young man who bought it plans to refinish the top and get another 30 years out of it.

Not bad for only $75.

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The Punch Brothers: Something Special Indeed

punch brothers 2The Punch Brothers played the North Park Theater on Wednesday night and I just had to write about the experience, because that’s what it was for me—an experience, not just another concert. The Punch Brothers are at first glance a bluegrass band—four musicians playing mandolin, guitar, bass, fiddle and banjo—a little younger, a little more hip perhaps than your average bluegrass band—but a bluegrass band nevertheless. But it didn’t sound like bluegrass at all. Truth is, their music defies any kind of description or category. It’s Punch Brothers music, a blend of folk, rock, classical, jazz, Irish, baroque, country … yes, all of these and more with maybe a bluegrass foundation (if you dig deep enough).

Chris Thile was on familiar turf Wednesday night, having grown up around San Diego with Sean and Sara Watkins as one third of the astonishing kid band Nickel Creek which went on to have several hits on the country and Americana charts. He is also a past recipient of the MacArthur Foundation Genius Award ($500,000) which acknowledged what we already knew—that he does things on the mandolin that nobody has ever imagined before. A couple years ago, for instance, he recorded a mandolin album of “sonatas and partitas” written by Johann Sebastian Bach.  It was flawless and I’m guessing he did it without charts.

The other band members are able to match Thile note for note:  Gabe Witcher, fiddle (who I remember playing with his Southern California family band, The Witcher Brothers as a teenager), Noam Pikelny, arguably the best banjo player on the planet these days, Chris Eldridge, guitar (son of bluegrass Hall of Famer Ben Eldridge of the Seldom Scene), and Paul Kowert, who stole the show by playing the highest note on a double bass I’ve ever heard. It was dog-whistle high. Of course he could also play notes so low that the room shook. .

Some say The Punch Brothers are the future of bluegrass, but I really don’t think that is being either accurate or fair. What they do musically is so special and so unique that I’m not sure it will ever be duplicated, now or at anytime in the future. These guys are creating something entirely new and to call it the future of anything would be far too limiting and short-sighted.

Even though this wasn’t my first time hearing them live, I was completely blown away by their performance on Wednesday. Just like the rest of the sold-out theater, I stood in awe and amazement at the Punch Brothers’ talent and creativity and I as I usually do when I’m having a wonderful musical experience, I thanked God for them. God is after all the giver of all great music—both the ability to play it and to enjoy it.  Music is uniquely human and uniquely divine.  Heaven is and will be a very musical place, you can count on that.

When Bill Monroe (the “Father of Bluegrass Music”) assembled by trial and error the original bluegrass band back in 1945 (the year of my birth!) he discovered that these particular five instruments (mandolin, guitar, fiddle, five-string banjo played three-finger style, and acoustic bass) blend together perfectly to create a wonderful sound. That sound would spread like wildfire and eventually be known as bluegrass music, named after Monroe’s home state of Kentucky. Now, with these same five instruments, The Punch Brothers are making music that can’t be called bluegrass but it can be called wonderful.

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39 Years on KSON!

KSON poster 1980s

A KSON poster from the 1980’s

KSON’s Bluegrass Special went on the air for the first time on March 7, 1976 from 9 PM to midnight. The first few programs were aired on KSON-FM 97.3 which at that time was called “Country 97” and honestly had very few listeners. Most country music fans listened to KSON-AM 1240. AM radio was still king 39 years ago.

But after a few months, station owner Dan McKinnon decided the Bluegrass Special deserved a bigger listening audience, so the show was moved to KSON-AM from 4 to 7 PM. At that time, the KSON studios were located in College Grove Center, one of San Diego’s original shopping malls—and the control room was visible to mall shoppers behind a big glass window at the bottom of the mall elevator. Back in those days, you did your radio program not only for listeners on the radio but for a live audience of spectators. I must say that I was happy when my show moved to back to my original slot, 9 PM to midnight, after the stores were closed for the day.

It took quite a few years for FM radio to catch on with the public but by 1989, AM radio was pretty much obsolete except for news and sports stations.  So KSON let all its AM staff go and began simulcasting its programming over both KSON FM 97.3 and AM 1240. I was among the staff let go at that time but it wouldn’t be for long. Within a few weeks, KSON’s program director found a spot for me on Sunday nights on the FM station, from 10 PM to to midnight. In his words, “Your fans have spoken and we got the message loud and clear!”

So Sunday nights at 10PM it has been ever since. For the last 25 years, it has followed three hours of country classics (oldies), first hosted by Bill Mackey, then Doc Holliday, now Rick Jackson, who is also our station’s GM and one of the nicest guys in the world.

It’s a testament to all the wonderful  people I’ve had a chance to work with at KSON that I’m still there after 39 years.  I’ve been very blessed to be accepted as part of the KSON family even though bluegrass music is generally not accepted by country radio. Of course KSON isn’t your typical country music station.  It’s San Diego’s country music station and that makes all the difference in the world.

So this coming Sunday night (March 8) is my 2019th radio show, the Bluegrass Special’s 39th anniversary. I still love doing it each week and I’m thankful that I now benefit from technology that allows me to pre-record the show a day or two earlier and listen to it myself on Sunday nights. Of course I still enjoy doing the show live on Sunday nights when I can do it that way. I also love having bands come into the studio and play live on the air, mistakes and all. In my opinion, that’s good radio and I’m so thankful to KSON for letting me do it here in San Diego for so long. I’m also very grateful  to the bluegrass music fans who listen faithfully every week. That’s really why I’m still on the air.

So here we go, pushing on to our 40th anniversary celebration next year! Same time, same station!

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Robert Earl Keen Records Bluegrassy “Happy Prisoner”

robert-earl-keen-2You may or not be familiar with Texan Robert Earl Keen as he has never been a mainstream country or pop artist, preferring instead to stay on the fringes and record his own brand of folk, roots, blues, protest, outlaw, alt-country (Americana) music. And like bluegrass, Americana generally gets marginalized by the major record labels and promotors who can’t see a way to take such a niche market to the bank. So Keen has been content to build his audience by prolifically recording dozens of very interesting albums of original songs on a variety of labels and unorthodox distribution channels. So far, so good and today he is one of the most popular and well-known Americana artists working today. His songs have been recorded by everyone from George Strait to the Dixie Chicks.

I rarely played his stuff on my radio show because he never claimed to be a bluegrass artist … UNTIL NOW! I just received a copy of his new album Happy Prisoner: The Bluegrass Sessions and immediately checked to see who the backing musicians were on the album. After all, that’s what makes a bluegrass album a bluegrass album, right? You’ve got to have the right pickers who can give you that bluegrass sound. Lots of country or pop artists have cut bluegrass albums—recent examples being Alan Jackson , Dolly Parton, Dierks Bentley and John Driskoll Hopkins of the Zack Brown Band. In each case, these artists employed some of the Nashville A-list studio musicians who are able to take any song, whether it had bluegrass content or not and turn it into a bluegrass hit. There are some amazing bluegrass musicians in Nashville who can make almost anybody’s record a great bluegrass record.

Well, I’m happy to report that Robert Earl Keen did not go that route. Instead, he used his own band (which includes some notable non-bluegrass elements like keyboards, drums and electric guitar) and added some bluegrass authority in Sara Watkins (Nickel Creek) on fiddle, Danny Barnes (the Bad Livers) on banjo, and Kym Warner (Greencards) on mandolin. Singing with Keen is Lyle Lovett, Peter Rowan and Natalie Maines (Dixie Chicks). And rather than trying to turn Keen’s original songs into bluegrass standards, Keen chooses to turn a dozen or so bluegrass standards into Robert Earl Keen songs while using these great musicians to pay homage to their bluegrass roots. It’s clear from listening to each cut that the musicians find a good groove for each song and have a blast improvising and trying to do something truly unique.  I’m reminded of when Steve Earle recorded his bluegrass album with the Del McCoury Band a few years ago, or when Bob Dylan cut the Stanley Brothers’ classic “Lonesome River” on Ralph Stanley’s “Clinch Mountain Country” album. Robert Earl Keen gets to do what he does best on Happy Prisoner while all the backing musicians are left to improvise and create something truly unique. Yes, it’s a bluegrass album featuring real bluegrass songs but it’s nothing like you’ve ever heard before. That makes it a perfect fit for KSON’s Bluegrass Special. Be listening!

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On Not Using “R” Word

not using the R word“So how do you like being retired?”

Having resigned my staff position at College Avenue Baptist Church last month, that’s the question I keep hearing from well-meaning folks who assume I’ve stopped working and have all kinds of free time on my hands.

“I’m not really retired,” I insist. “I’m busy. I don’t have time to play golf, go on a cruise or whatever it is that retired people are supposed to do. I have plenty of work to do right now and I’m going to keep right on doing it.”

I even pull my personal mission statement out of my wallet (thank you Steven Covey for making me write it some 25 years ago) and show it to them. “Look, read the last line: I WILL NEVER RETIRE.”

But I get that knowing smile and a little joke to go with it: “True, your not retired. My grandfather always said he wasn’t retired … just tired. And then the next day he was tired all over again. Get it? Re-tired, ha ha”

OK, I get it. Sorry to be so defensive. I’m not sure why I am so against the idea of retirement. This isn’t a point of view that I have come to hastily. I have never had a desire to retire. In fact, as long as I can remember, I’ve held the view that retirement isn’t an option for Christians at all. It’s not biblical. While there is a passage in the book of Numbers (8:23-26) about “retiring” Levite priests over the age of 50, this is clearly not a rule for all people. The vast majority of people in the Bible either get crucified, stoned, taken up, or just drop dead serving God. Joshua was 110 years old when he uttered those famous words “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” (Joshua 24:15). Age doesn’t seem to matter in the Bible. Paul encouraged Timothy, “Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young” (1 Tim. 4:12) and I have a feeling he would have said to Timothy 50 years later, “Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are old, either.” Just keep serving God and being a good example no matter how old you are. My life verse is Psalms 71:18 “Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me O my God, til I declare your power to the next generation, your mighty deeds to all who are to come.” That verse doesn’t seem to have a time limit on it.

Now I know that most working people eventually retire from their jobs. They have to, either because they can’t do the work they used to do or they just need a rest.  Most jobs can only be done for so long. When a brain surgeon’s hands no longer hold steady, it’s time for him or her to retire. I realized quite a few years ago that I wasn’t going to be a youth worker forever. It has become physically impossible for me to do the things that one must do to be effective with junior high kids. So I have transitioned to other ministries that I am still fully capable of doing. For the past five years, I served as Pastor to Generations at College Avenue Baptist Church and I’m grateful for all that God allowed me to accomplish there.

But now, God has called me to a new job, even if it doesn’t have a title and a regular paycheck to go with it. My job is to serve him every day, doing whatever it is that he wants me to do.  I know that God will continue to provide for me opportunities to write, speak, consult, mentor and otherwise put my experience to good use.  I still have a passion for youth, family and intergenerational ministry and want to help my local church as well as the global church be effective at strengthening marriages and helping families pass faith on from one generation to the next.

So while I am not keeping regular office hours at a ministry organization, school or church anymore as I once did, I am far from retired.  I am transitioning to a new phase of ministry to and with my family, my church, and the world. If I can ever be of service to you, as a speaker, writer, consultant, banjo player or whatever, please get in touch. I’ve got all kinds of free time on my hands!

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Speed Mentoring

cabc_pv_15 imageThis past weekend, our church held its third annual all-church retreat at a conference center in the mountains near San Diego. CABC@PineValley, as the retreat is known, is designed to bring all ages of the church together for a weekend immersion experience in community-building. About half of our church attended this year and by all accounts, everybody had a blast.

Along with several large group meetings, there were numerous optional activities that people could sign up for. On Saturday afternoon, I led one of them called “Cross-Generational Connect,” an opportunity for young people and older people to intentionally connect with each other. About 20 people showed up between the ages of 17 and 75—a good turnout considering that there were plenty of other fun things to do at the same time.

Essentially, what we did was a modified version of speed dating. I began by asking everyone to line up by age—from youngest to oldest. I gave the older folks permission to lie about their age if they considered themselves younger than they actually were. After they were lined up, I divided the group in half so that we had two groups: the youngsters and the oldsters. We then formed two concentric circles in chairs facing each other, with the youngsters on the inside circle and the oldsters on the outside circle.

I gave each person a list of suggested questions and told them they had five minutes to introduce themselves to the person they were seated across from and find out some things about them that they didn’t know. After five to seven minutes, the conversations would stop and the inner circle (the youngsters) would rotate one seat to the right. This was repeated for about an hour, which allowed everyone a chance to talk to each other.

I later heard from several who said this was their favorite part of the whole weekend. They came hoping to meet someone new and this little activity made it happen. As a participant myself, I joined in and talked with several young people (yes, I was an oldster). In one of my conversations, I asked a student, “What do old people like me need to know most about young people like you?” Her answer: “I wish older people knew that we really do want you to be around us, to mentor us and teach us what they know about God and about life in general. You have so much experience that we don’t have.”

I don’t know why her answer surprised me, but it did. It reminded me of a quote from the late H. Stephen Glenn that I often cited back when I was teaching “Understanding Your Teenager” seminars:

“Left to their own devices, teenagers will always gravitate to the oldest person they can find who will take them seriously and treat them with dignity and respect.”

This was true generations ago and it’s even more true today.

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