Some of you may be wondering why this is my first post in a couple of months, others are probably thinking, "you have a blog?!" Ha ha!

This past winter has admittedly been one of my hardest winters in my battle against what can only be described as "the winter blues." I took the photograph you see above just yesterday and as I walked by this bench, it really stood out to me. My winter blues are much like this pond. In the spring and summer, it’s alive and full of sounds. From the ducks and geese wading through, to the guys that stay out past sunset with their fishing poles in the water, to the frogs croaking at night.

Yet in the winter time, the bench sits empty. The frogs don’t croak, the geese and ducks have migrated south, the pond freezes up, and the fishermen pack up their gear for the winter months. Often times, the only sounds you hear are the crunch of snow underneath your boots and an owl hooting in the distance. In many ways, my winter blues is like that. It feels like with the scenery and animals around me changing, so does my mood.

My luck is beginning to turn around though. While we had a small snowfall the other day, signs of life are starting to return to this pond. The ice is beginning to melt, the ducks and geese have returned, and the smell of spring is in the air. And I begin to awaken from my winter blues as the cool air rejuvenates me, I’m so thankful. And as I walk around the pond I look at the geese who return year after year and I just look at them say, "welcome back, friend."

I had a weird dream the other night. I dreamt that I was back working at Marsh with my friend calling me over the intercom to stop bagging and help cover one of the cashier’s breaks. For those of you who don’t know, I hated running a register after doing it for years and loved the freedom I had as a bagger to move around. For me, putting me at register was like a prison sentence.

I woke up feeling two things: confused and happy. I was confused because it seemed so real to me and yet I was happy when I realized that it was a dream.

Sometimes in the hustle-and-bustle of our everyday lives, we forget where we’ve been and how far we’ve come. For me, there are things I miss about Marsh. But when I think about it, I forget how relieved I was to get out of there.

That dream was a wake-up moment for me, not to take today for granted. It reminded me to be thankful for where God has placed me and to remind me of the chance I’ve been given. I’m thankful for the reminder…

“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.” – Epicurus

One of the things I love about Indiana is how each season has it’s own distinct flavor: the colors change, the smells change, even the sounds change. At the same time, those are the things that sometimes I don’t like about Indiana. Is it weird that you can love things, yet dislike them at the same time?

For example, in the spring the ground begins to thaw, rains bring in that fresh spring air, trees start to bloom, birds return and chirp, thunder rolls in the distance. I wish spring could stay.

Spring then grows into summer where we experience hot weather, swimming pools, cookouts, camping, long bike rides, later sunsets painting a soft yellow glow over the cornfields. I love summer and wish it could stay, but I greatly anticipate fall.

Fall, where the trees turn a bright vibrant orangish-red, the air gets colder and crisper, leaves fall to the ground. Combines harvest the fields and what used to be rows upon rows of cornstalks are now gone. The horizon is visible as acres of fields lay bare in preparation for winter. Foolishly, I look forward to winter.

Winter is beautiful in its own way. The trees are bare, snow blankets the ground, the sound of silence is in the air as all the birds have migrated south and animals hibernate. With the birds gone and the other animals laying low, the crunching sound of boots on the snow seem to be the only sound around. Off in the distance, a wood burning fireplace adds to the aroma of winter… it’s beautiful.

Yet by this time I’m ready for it to be warm again, I long for spring… the cycle starts over again.

Starting to get the picture? I love Indiana and the seasons, yet at the same time, I can’t wait for the seasons to change. I really must be an Indiana boy… Indiana is home.

“To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind
than to be hopelessly in love with spring.” – George Santayana

Today on Veteran’s Day, I think of my grandparents who served in WWII. My Grandpa Kinnaman was in the Army Corps of Engineers and earned a Purple Heart for injuries sustained in the European Theater of Operations. My GrandDad Hicks wasn’t active very long before the Japanese surrendered. He spent time in Iceland and parts of Europe.

All my GrandDad’s brothers served in the armed forces with Bob and Bill serving in the Marines and my Grandad and Phil serving in the Army.

I’m proud of all my family and friends who have served and those who continue to serve in the United States Armed Forces.

The more I work on my genealogy, the more I miss my Grandpa Kinnaman. He was a great man and I miss him so much. I can’t wait for the day that I’ll see him in heaven and he’ll greet me with that all-too-familiar greeting, "Hey there, Turkey!"

I’ll be sure to post some stories about him soon, but for now, I must get back to work. Miss ya Grandpa!

There are times in our lives when our heart conflicts with our instinct. Driving home from having dinner downtown, my friend brought up what was on her heart. "Kiel, do you remember the homeless guy we saw back there? I really felt convicted to say ‘hello’ or to give him my leftovers from dinner."

I’ve had this conversation many times before with many different friends. Homelessness is a constant reminder when walking down the streets of downtown Indianapolis. Somewhere in-between the "clickity-clack" of the horses taking people on carriage rides and the sounds of cars passing through, one can hear a distinct sound. The sound is that of loose change tumbling around in a McDonald’s coffee cup as a man sits on the sidewalk shaking the cup, silently begging for money.

That sound for me is a constant reminder of homelessness and every time I hear it, I think of what Jesus said in Mark 14:7 when He said, "The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me."

At first I thought Jesus was saying that even if everybody shared everything, that as humans we would find some way to place value on humans and classify people as poor. But the more I thought about it and studied, the more I realized that it’s our sin nature that keeps people poor.

As I talked to my friend, we went through the typical reasons why someone wouldn’t want to give a homeless person money. The answer almost always is, "I don’t know if they’re truly in need" or "they’ll probably use it to by alcohol."

I can understand that and when we give the homeless money or resources, we may be empowering them to continue a life of homelessness. But I look at it like this, is giving a homeless guy a couple bucks and not knowing what he’s going to do with it any different than the Lord providing us with financial resources and wasting it on things that don’t matter in the end?

It’s like I can almost see God saying, "Oh there’s John, off buying the next tech gizmo instead of giving his money to an organization that can use his money to dig wells in villages so they can have access to clean water."

Do you see? Both can be wasteful and counter-productive behaviors: alcoholism and consumerism… of course, that’s just my opinion.

We’re caught between what our heart wants to do and what our instincts have taught us. Our heart really wants to help out, but our instinct tells us not to give money. Can I offer a suggestion? Perhaps the first step is just acknowledging their existence. I was downtown for a business meeting and was waiting for the signal to cross the street when I ran across the guy who holds his sign proudly: "I’m not gonna lie, it’s for beer."

I didn’t give him money, but at the end of our short conversation he said something that struck me, "hey, thanks for stopping to talk to me." You may not realize it, but when you’re there begging for money everyday, people dart their eyes and pretend like these people don’t exist. I’m guilty of this myself sometimes.

Earlier I wrote that "it’s our sin nature that keeps people poor" and I mean that on so many levels. When we fail to give money to organizations that help the homeless, we keep them poor. When we fail to acknowledge their existence and treat them as a fellow human being, we keep them poor of spirit. And when we fail to share the Gospel, we keep them spiritually poor. Although I would bet there are more homeless men and women who have a richer faith with God because God’s all they have.

I really enjoyed my conversation with my friend about homelessness. I’m no expert, but I do have friends who have worked with homeless organizations and opened my eyes to the way things are. I think we can all at least start to open our eyes a little bit and even if we don’t give that homeless man or woman money, we can at least start to see them as someone’s son or daughter… human.

So every time I hear that cup shaking with change in it or every time I hear the Salvation Army bells ring at Christmas time, I am reminded of those who need to know that we care.

If you’re interested in reading more, my friend Barry did an experiment where he spent a few days and nights living the life of someone who is homeless. Here are those links:

• On the Streets
• On the Streets: Day One
  
• On the Streets: The Station
• On the Streets: The Shelter
• On the Streets: Alone
• What’s Next?

Hearing about how much fun they had made me miss not only the Christmas season, but fall as well. I LOVE fall. It reminds me of Joe Fox in You’ve Got Mail when he says, "Don’t you love New York in the fall? It makes me wanna buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address."

While I’m going to try my best to enjoy the rest of summer, here are some of the things I look forward to in the fall:

1. Pumpkin Spice Latte from Starbucks
2. Breathing in the crisp autumn air while looking at the red and orange leaves against a clear blue sky
3. Seeing the kiddos go back to school and the school buses roll through
4. Going to high school football games
5. Going to Stuckey Farm and walking through the orchard picking apples and going through the pumpkin patch!
6. Apple cider and pumpkin pie!
7. Gathering around a bonfire and sipping hot chocolate and warm apple cider
8. Hay rides!
9. Halloween and staying in to watch scary movies
10. Trick-or-Treating!
11. Okay, for the sake of many of you out there, it’s good to see college and pro football back in action.
12. The anticipation of the Thanksgiving and Christmas season and the prospect of snow!

So why do I worry?
Why do I freak out?
God knows what I need
You know what I need

Now for you non-Christians who may be wondering, "Is God punishing you for your lack of faith?" Absolutely not. God made a promise to His people in Deuteronomy 31:6 which says, "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you." God never left my side, even as I worried. The problem was that I got so caught up in my cycle of worrying that I failed to acknowledge God and His healing power. Once I cast my worries on God, I started to feel so much better (1 Peter 5:7).

I then came across this video of this cute little girl standing in front of the mirror talking about all the things in her life that are great. Wouldn’t it be great if we could cast away our worries and realize just how much we really have?

“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.” – Epicurus

We talked a great deal about what’s going on in Haiti. My mind is still processing through everything that’s going on over there, while wondering how the church and the rest of the world will respond.

Anyway, at the end of the service, we showed a music video by the musical group, The Elms. The song is called "This Is How The World Will End" and I had originally heard it months ago when Starbucks was handing out cards with a free download of the song (to promote building water wells in Africa). It wasn’t until I saw the music video today with the lyrics on the screen, that I truly got the point of the song. I think you know what I mean, when you spent months upon months singing a song because it sounds good, yet you never take time to really listen to the lyrics.

The footage in the music video below was taken by Luke Renner, who is an Indiana-native and was in Haiti when the earthquake hit. Since then, he’s been taking footage almost non-stop and updating his Twitter account with updates (the footage in the video is before the earthquake hit). I’d challenge you to watch the video twice. First, just listen to the song and take in the pictures. The second time, read the lyrics. It’s amazing.

This Is How the World Will End
The Elms

When the dollar made with blood is spent,
When an enemy can’t become a friend.
When the better man won’t lend a hand,
Baby, this is how the world will end.

When a day of hope is a rarity,
Or a diplomat hasn’t time to see
That a child lost is a true offense,
Baby, this is how the world will end.

Bring a chair up to the table.
Bring a message to the crowd.
Where’s a common trust to deliver us from the wretched and the proud?
Sing a tune about the promise.
Speak on that which we depend.
And if a certain light don’t shine again,
Baby, this is how the world will end.

When the poorest kid is fending for himself,
Or the widow cries, but she gets no help.
When we know what’s true, but we still pretend,
Baby, this is how the world will end.

Bring a chair up to the table.
Bring a message to the crowd.
Where’s a common trust to deliver us from the wretched and the proud?
Sing a tune about the promise.
Speak on that which we depend.
Now let that certain light come shinin’ then,
Baby, we could change the world again.

But if that certain light don’t shine again,

Baby, this is how the world will end.