A Past Link, A Current Friend

My mind has officially been blown. Check this out.

In May 2008, I sat down at the computer in my soon-to-be in-laws' house and checked my feedreeder. I found a link to an interesting list and decided to post the link on this very blog.

A year passed and Rebekah and I found ourselves married and in Louisville at a new church. Soon we began to get to know some people in our Bible Fellowship Group. One of those individuals, Derek, stumbled upon this blog and told me that in some unknown way he was familiar with it. The breadth of my readership is not all that far-reaching, so I didn't put a whole lot of thought into how he might have come across my blog. He brought it up a couple more times, but my response was the same.

Then, last Sunday, Derek approached me and told me where he had seen my blog before. Over two years ago, when I sat at that computer in Fargo on a Saturday morning, I linked to his blog. A man that I had never met before, who lived nearly 1,000 miles away, wrote a list that I read and desired others to read as well. As far as I knew anyone could have written that list. Anyone. I had no idea it would be someone who I would call a good friend.

That's how my mind was blown.

Thanks, Derek.

Goodbye, Metro

I am finally doing it. I am going to finish my "Goodbye, Fargo" series. My goal was to do it all in a week, but I lengthened it to nearly two months. Oh, well.

Metropolitan Baptist Church, Fargo, ND

Now that we have been in Louisville six weeks, Rebekah and I have had the opportunity to visit three different churches. I will not go into detail about them, but I will say this: we miss Metro.

What an immense blessing Metro was! Sometimes it's hard to see the impact that a small church has with so many mega-churches flashing their fancy bulletin boards and their websites streaming sermons. Believe me when I say that God has used Metro in massive ways in fulfilling His purposes in the Fargo/Moorhead community, the state of North Dakota, across the country, and, I pray, around the world.

As for Rebekah and I, the opportunities granted us at Metro were invaluable, the generosity shown us at Metro was unfathomable, and the people that influenced us at Metro are irreplaceable.

This is not to say that the church is not divided from time to time over silly issues, that people don't come and go, or that people always find it an ideal situation. No.

Metro has seen its share of hardship and painful situations, but at the end of the day the church comes together with the mindset that God is working good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose; the bride of Christ is being sanctified.

New things are in store for Metro with the departure of some following the Lord's call. I am confident that God's grace will continue to uphold Metro as it has for several decades.

I pray earnestly that God will continue to show favor to you, Metropolitan Baptist Church, as you continue to seek to glorify Him in all things through His Son, Jesus Christ.

Goodbye, US Bank

US Bank Service Center, Fargo, ND

I have had multiple jobs throughout my time on Earth, but, as I have been a student for the majority of my life, none of those jobs lasted for very long, or were just part-time gigs. My time at US Bank was different.

Prior to my employment at US Bank, I never even attempted to get a full time job, let alone one that I hoped would sustain me and a wife. I was fortunate enough to land the job with minimal experience and maximum ignorance, although it did take me two tries.

I was incredibly blessed to be given the opportunity since Rebekah and I had signed a lease for an apartment across the street and the beloved Malibu was warning of its impending doom.

The job itself was tedious at times, but overall quite rewarding. I made some good friends and felt like I did have the opportunity to help people in need from time to time (even though some days it seemed like I was only aiding freeloaders).

Last Friday, on my final day (which happened to be my birthday as well), I was mightily encouraged by all of my co-workers who showered me with food and "good luck" wishes. I will miss them. We all got along quite well.

It was an honor to work at the US Bank Service Center. For the first time I seriously filled the role of "provider" for a family. I also had the opportunity to build some relationships and help some people along the way. It was a good job and a good year.

Red Means Stop

I do not know how large a "Red Means Stop Enforcement Area" is, but I do know that within six blocks of this sign I saw a pedestrain get hit by a car running a red light, within twenty blocks I saw a biker get hit by a van running a red light, and within five miles I saw a car hit a biker after not stopping for a stop sign. You can sit at any stop light in a three mile radius and watch at least one vehicle run a red light on each cycle. I have never seen anyone get pulled over for running a red light in Fargo and, come to think of it, I have seen several police officers commit like offenses. 

In addition to these things, every time I ride my bike on Fargo streets my life hangs in the balance. People do not look for bikers or pedestrians because nine months out of the year it is too cold to walk or bike. The danger is inexplicable. 

This is one thing I will not miss about Fargo.

Goodbye, Malibu

1998 Chevrolet Malibu, (a.k.a. the Bu)

My '92 Chrysler LeBaron was a great car, but on the first day of my food-delivery job five years ago, it met its maker. I coasted into the Blaine Library parking lot, the car in jeopardy of combusting. From a pay-phone (these were pre-cell-phone days), I called my dad; he would come pick me up as soon as he could. I called work and explained the situation; they understood and told me to get back to them as soon as I could. So, there I sat. I had an overheated LeBaron and a food-delivery career in limbo.

"Having car problems?" said a voice from behind me.

What's it look like? I wanted to say as I stared down at the steaming engine. "Yes," I actually replied, looking up and seeing an elderly woman.

"Well I am selling my car, let me get you a flyer."

She meandered back to her '98 Chevy Malibu, a car that I immediately judged was out of my price range. "Here you are," she said, handing me a sheet of paper with some information on it.

"Thanks"

"You're welcome. Call me at the number listed if you are interested." She was a master at stating the obvious.

"I will," I replied, as she turned to return her books to the library.

My dad arrived. We added some coolant to the LeBaron and made our way home. I pulled the flyer the woman had given me out of my pocket. It read something like this:

1998 Chevrolet Malibu
New Tires
Power Locks and Windows
Clean
High Mileage
$1,990

That was most definitely within my price range. I showed my dad and he prompted me to call the woman. Soon we were on our way to look at the car.

We arrived and asked all the necessary questions to which the woman answered to our liking. We drove the car and it was in better shape than I could have hoped for. It turned out that she had bought a new car and wanted to sell the Malibu because of the high mileage, but we also learned the her father lived in South Dakota and had just recently died of cancer. So, she would make many trips there and back accounting for the excessive miles. That, I could deal with.

There was no hesitation in my dad's voice when he told me that I should buy the car. So, I did.

The car made multiple trips to the cities and back to Fargo and was a wonderful car for five years with minimal problems.

Recently, the high mileage of the vehicle reared its ugly head and it was soon beyond repair. Last week I sold the car to a mechanic for $300.

Cars are hunks of metal and gears that depreciate rapidly and yield no return. But if there was ever a vehicle that rose above that truth, it was the Bu.

Goodbye, Sunwest One

Rebekah and I are spending our final hours in Fargo. So, this week I will dedicate some time to writing about some things that we will miss.

Sunwest One, Apartment 132

Prior to our mid-July marriage, Rebekah and I signed a lease for Sunwest One, Apartment 132 with the plan that I would move in and she would live with her parents until we returned from our honeymoon. I lived there for six or seven weeks before we were married. Jeremy spent a few of those weeks with me, sleeping on the couch.

For Rebekah and I, 132 was our first home. I carried Rebekah across the threshold as my new bride.

Sunwest One, Apartment 132 is proof that memories, not just material, can be housed within four walls.

This is where we had our first married disagreements and where we settled them. This is where we opened our wedding gifts and where we wrote our thank-you-notes. This is where Hastings would eat all our food and where Jordan would surf the internet. This is where we watched House, Band of Brothers, and The Cosby Show. This is where we made cake and where we invited people over so we would not eat the whole thing by ourselves. This is where we spent our first Christmas and where we shed tears remembering the holiday that would never be the same. This is where our married lives began.

Of course it is just an apartment, indistinguishable in many ways. But it is in a city that Rebekah and I have grown to love, and driving past it on the way to our new home, reminiscing about our time there, is not a reality; it will be hundreds of miles away.

We are grateful for our time in Sunwest One, Apartment 132; we will always remember it as the birthplace of our family.

The Gospel is an Intricate Part of Evangelism

On Thursday night I attended a "Shane and Shane" concert here in Fargo.

There was man who claimed to be an evangelist there. I would have never known.

The word "Jesus" only escaped his lips a couple of times and never in the context of the Gospel. His content made me think that the good news he thought made him an evangelist was social.

But a social gospel is not the true Gospel. And claiming that you are a proclaimer of the good news without proclaiming the good news just doesn't seem to work.

Waiting for the Crest

Things got dark on Thursday in the Fargo/Moorhead community.

Some mandatory evacuations were issued. Some homeowners surrendered to the might Red. There were giant lulls between sandbagging efforts. The predicted Saturday crest level went up again from forty-one to an estimated forty-two, potentially forty-three, feet. A home in the Oakport area, on the Minnesota side, caught fire and burned, unable to be reached by any fire department. The community was drained and deflated, close to giving in.

But Friday was a new day.

Sandbagging continued. Reserve sandbags were made. Dikes were raised in most locations. New strength was found as the bad news that broke so regularly the day before now was just a bump in the road. For the first time it seemed hopeful that the river may be held at bay.

Friday night the crest day was moved back to Sunday granting a few precious hours before the final push. Overnight the river actually dropped a tenth of a foot.

Even considering the lack of bad news on Friday, Saturday will be the most difficult day. With much of the preparation done, the community must wait for the crest tomorrow, a crest that will last up to seven days. And the uncertainty of waiting often times can be more difficult that filling, throwing, or placing sandbags.

The State of Fargo

It has been snowing all day in Fargo. The city awoke to approximately seven inches of accumulation and the snowfall has continued throughout the day.

But the citizens of Fargo/Moorhead do not care.

Rain fell from Sunday night until early Tuesday. Monday night brought a substantial thunderstorm with heavy rain lasting into the morning.

But the citizens of Fargo/Moorhead do not care.

The United States economy is in disarray. Barack Obama unveiled his $3.6 trillion budget proposal. AIG is recording massive losses despite billions of dollars in federal relief and yet is paying out bonuses.

But the citizens of Fargo/Moorhead do not care.

There is one thing that the citizens of Fargo care about:

The mighty Red River is rising quickly and threatening the Fargo/Moorhead community in it's entirety.

The most recent numbers tweeted by @redriveratfargo read,

Current height of the Red River at Fargo is 36.39 feet. 18.39 feet above flood stage. 3.21 feet below 1997 crest.

The Red River is predicted to crest at forty-one feet on Saturday morning. That is the highest in recorded history.

Volunteers are showing up in the thousands to fill sandbags and build dikes in attempts to stave off the river, but the Red is rising fast. Twenty-four hours ago the river was at 31.75 feet. A view of the stages of the progression has been compiled by the Minnesota Public Radio website.

The Fargodome has been transformed into a sandbag-filling hive where hundreds of volunteers shovel, hold, tie, and move the sandbags to be distrubuted throughout the city by police-escorted semi-trucks. Some 2.5 to 3 million sandbags are needed. The most recent number reflect somewhere around 1.3 million.

Homeowners along the river hope against hope that they will not suffer the same fate of those living in Oxbow, where the Wild Rice River meets the mighty Red just minutes south of Fargo. Some Oxbow residents lost their battles and had to be rescued this morning.

Whispers of city-wide evacuation echo down the sandbag line. No one wants to leave their livelihood behind, but if the river levels rise above the predicted value, it will most likely become necessary.

Overall, uncertainty is in the air. Volunteers continue to pour their efforts into sandbagging; however, no one can truly conceive of what will unfold in the next few days.

A Productive Snow Day

Fargo had a snow day today. Yeah, the whole city. On March 10. I went to work this morning, but they declared hazardous conditions, so I came home.

Then I drank some hot chocolate.



So did Rebekah.



Rebekah worked from bed.



We Skyped Katie. (Actually this was a different day, but it seems like a good snow day activity.)



And we made this video.

It was a productive snow day.

Frozen Fargo

It is currently -9 degrees here in Fargo with a wind chill of -39 degrees. It is snowing like crazy and everything in the city is closed for the day. Rebekah and I decided that it would be a good idea to document the event for future generations.

Winter is Coming to Fargo

Here are five tell-tale signs that winter is on Fargo's doorstep:

1. The sun was shining and it was snowing at the same time today. Indiscriminate snowing is always a sign of winter. Go figure.
   
2. It is finally cold enough outside for the drunk guys in our apartment complex to go shirtless. Any warmer and it just would not be manly. Or smart.
3. The line to rent a movie takes no less than twenty minutes. There is nothing better to do in Fargo once the temperature dips below tolerable.
4. My lips are chapped.
5. I have listened to "Somewhere In My Memory" from Home Alone approximately 16,000 times.

Pastor Steve Sighting

For those of you who attend Metropolitan Baptist Church in Fargo, I have found what Pastor Steve did before joining staff.

If you happened to miss it, here is the screen shot of him singing backup:

And you thought he was in Seattle...

Rainbows

In the past week, we have had multiple storms and multiple rainbows here in Fargo.





Has anyone ever thought that we are on the right side of the rainbow? Maybe the other side isn't so great? Although an unpopular view to the rest of culture, I am glad I am on this side. Or at least on this side of God's covenant...

Churches, Do Not Abandon Downtown

I have lived if Fargo for nearly four years now and I have observed several things.

1. People run stoplights and stop signs like they don't even exist.
2. The restaurant to person ratio is approximately 7 to 1.
3. Apartment complexes are being built at an astronomical rate. And yet I see many neon-colored signs in front of the 10 year old complexes because they can't rent out all their units.
   
4. When shopping at Wal-Mart, the average wait time in line is 15 minutes. Three blocks away at Sunmart, the average wait time in line is .15 minutes.
5. There are a million one acre parks. I wish there was a one million acre park.
6. Everyone goes to lunch at noon. The line at Subway does not exist at 11:55, but at noon it's out the door.
   
7. In addition to number 6, everyone gets done with work at between 4 and 4:30 making traffic ridiculous for a half hour every day.
8. If a Fargo driver is on a street with more than one lane and has to turn right in 3 miles, that driver will make sure and be in the right lane the whole time no matter how many cars are already in that lane or how slow traffic is going in that lane. This creates quite a large amount of congestion, but only in one lane. The other lanes are usually empty.
9. Fargo is one big suburb with no urban area.
10. Number ten is the one I want to discuss in short. While number nine is true, according to my observation this is about to change. Here is number ten: many churches in Fargo, that have seen a significant amount of growth the past few years, are moving south.

Why do I want to focus on number ten? Because as Fargo develops more and more of an urban area, there is going to be a larger call on churches to participate in urban affairs. This is an exciting time for the Fargo community. Along with urbanization comes new and exciting cultures as well as a heightened sense of community. So why are some churches vacating the downtown area?

I understand that part of the issues is space. Churches that grow need more of it. What I hope is that their relocation is not out of fear. I want to scream when I hear people say that with urban areas are cesspools of crime and drug culture. That kind of thinking is a blatant subscription to unwarranted stereotypes and needs to be removed. And while it might be a while before we see a large urban area in Fargo, churches need to be present during the urbanization process. Churches that run for the suburbs when a neighborhood gets a little tough need to reassess their mission. If churches stuck around before the bad times hit and invested in their immediate community, maybe the crime and drug culture would not become as predominate.

I pray that Fargo churches would not dash for the outskirts of town. If it's space that is needed plant a church or start a new campus. If it's funds that are needed, trust God to provide.

Urban areas allow for a mighty impact.

Churches, do not abandon downtown.

Five Reasons Why Today Was A Good Day

1. This morning's sermon was about hope. Hope is the desired end, not absence of trouble. Good reminder.
   
2. I had a wonderful meal with my almost in-laws.
3. It was absolutely beautiful outside. Nice days mean a lot in Fargo because often the wind blows 40 mph and the last of the snow just melted.
   
4. I disc golfed.
5. I know that tomorrow God's mercies are new. His faithfulness is great.