From the monthly archives: August 2013

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In Defense of Books: Three Reasons for Developing a Love of Reading


My oldest son is just starting to read children’s novels and is showing early signs of becoming quite the book worm. As I watch him, I seem to recall having a similar affection for reading in elementary school. Unfortunately, that affection wasn’t strong enough to endure middle school. As adolescence set in, books took a back seat to television and I tended to limit my reading to Sport Illustrated and Calvin and Hobbes (although Calvin is not for the dim-witted – he did teach me words like “ontological” and “existential”).

In any case, I had a good decade of near bookless-ness. I don’t think that’s uncommon in the teen years, as very few of my friends at the time were readers, either. But occasionally I find myself wishing that decade had been a little more literary. If nothing else, I could have picked up more than the Cliff’s Notes for The Scarlett Letter and Moby Dick in my American Lit class.

After coming to Christ, I began to regain that fondness for reading and now find myself pining for more time just to sit and read. My Amazon wish list is becoming a little unruly and, to make matters worse, my wife seems to have this unreasonable idea in her mind that I should read all the books I currently have before I buy more. Maybe she has a point. But still, I do think pursuing a healthy love of reading can enrich our lives in many ways.

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A Tale of Two Ball Players: A-Rod, Griffey and Daddy Issues


When I was 10 years old, playing Little League baseball on the dirt fields of Bailey, Colorado, I struck out in a game. I started to cry, because even though I didn’t hit a home run every at-bat, I expected to make contact and at least get the ball out of the infield. With tears streaming down my face, my mom came over to the dugout and said, “Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, it’s okay. Ken Griffey, Jr. strikes out all the time.” Somehow it comforted me that my childhood hero struck out, too. 

Much has been made lately about the exploits and fraudulent activity of Alex Rodriguez, shortstop for the New York Yankees. When asked in 2007 if he used steroids, HGH or other performance-enhancing substances, he replied:

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Life Begins Here: A Preview of Our Sermon Series on Colossians


“So, Majeski, we're going to see you in the fall, right?”

So said my son Mac's coach at the end of this summer's tackle football camp. Words like these from a coach to your son have an actual physiological affect on you as a dad. Your chest sticks out a little further. Your gait is a little more confident. You don't need to say a word; everything about your demeanor proudly proclaims, "That's my son."

In that moment, your weaknesses fade into the background. Philosophers call this experience "transcendence" and it sure feels good. 

Because every person desires to overcome their failures, every culture develops a path to transcendence. Collectively, we determine a way to rise above guilt and sorrow. Together we define what it means to “arrive.” And when someone “arrives,” all that is wrong with them is no longer a defining issue. That’s the idea, anyway. 

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Yellowstone Diary, Day 5: A Fossilized Lothlórien


This is the last post from the wild frontier of Yellowstone National Park. You can read the first three entries of this series herehere and here.


OK, so I skipped a day. But I have a very good reason.

Yesterday morning, I got up early to go hiking with seven other Summitviewers. John Meyer was leading this mini excursion. Our destination was a section along Specimen Ridge called the Fossil Forest. The fossils aren't bones, though. They're trees. Dozens of fossilized tree trunks and stumps.

It was surreal. It was like walking through a petrified Lothlórien.

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Yellowstone Diary, Day 3: Into the Beartooths


As we headed to the Northeast Entrance of Yellowstone National Park from Gardiner, Montana, we passed through the Lamar River Valley. We saw lots of buffalo. We also saw lots of erratics. Erratics are glacially transported boulders that differ from the "native" bedrock. In our case, most of the rock in the Lamar Valley is lava. But strewn all throughout the valley, dotting the hillsides and plugging up the river, were hundreds and granite boulders. Some of them were as big as our van. These granite boulders originated in the Beartooth Mountains to the northeast, more than 50 miles away.

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