Fine Arts Fun

Pip volunteered to do a 10-minute slot at the Fine Arts fair at his school this week. We worked up a couple pieces, with Mia joining in on percussion. I thought he did a great job.

He is reading a lead sheet for the first song, I Take You For Granted, a composition of mine from some years ago. (I hear it now and think it sounds like a cross between an American Jazz standard and a Sesame Street song some muppet would sing).



The second song, St. Thomas, he just knows in his head, and the second time through he's just improvising over the changes. I think it's great because his solo has some real musical shape. That's not something you can teach. The boy's just got it.

My Grandpa Always Told Me...

...that you've got to toot your own horn, 'cause no one else is going to toot it for you.

Guess Grandpa wasn't right about everything.

Or he didn't know anything about the CICW.

No More Boring Sunday School

If you're in charge of adult education at your church, check out this hot new curriculum from the good people at Faith Alive, the publishing group at CRC HQ. Available just in time for fall programs! Buy it by the truckload!

Full disclosure: we won't make any money if you do. So never mind the truckload. But still, here's an adult ed. curriculum on worship that we think turned out pretty well.

Ron was working on it last December, when we should have been out shopping for Christmas presents for our children (sorry kids! that doggone kingdom work again!). The task was to write an engaging, five-week study guide on worship for regular folks in a regular congregation: individual lessons for five days each week, then a group lesson for the end of the week.

So Ron took all his best, most tried and true worship talks (let's have a show of hands for how many folks reading this blog have heard, for example, Ron talk about the participate-o-meter); he zazzed them up with nifty stories and examples, then condensed them into this attractive little package, complete with Bible study sections, discussion questions, the whole bit. It fits into the Disciples series as part of year 2.

The daily readings walk, step-by-step, through a typical four-fold worship pattern (Gathering, Word, Meal, Sending). Along the way, alternating lessons explore key adjectives that describe faithful, vital worship. These don't function prescriptively ("Listen to the worship wonk who will tell you exactly what to do!"), but descriptively -- they are extended meditations on virtues and values no congregation would wish their worship to do without.

Of course, if you do want a worship wonk to come to your church and tell you what to do, that could be arranged. (Ron has been known to do a bit of itinerant work from time to time).

So if your church needs a Sunday-service makeover (or even if it doesn't), this study guide is a nice way to build grass-roots understanding of worship basics. A little understanding can go a long way toward quelling pointless debates and toward opening a congregation to the Spirit's work in cooking up lively, meaningful worship. (Maybe that accounts for the otherwise perplexing photo of a burner on the cover. But does the Spirit use natural gas? A non-renewable fossil fuel?? Wouldn't the Spirit use wind energy?)

Ream o' Fun

Yes, there have been some cobwebs accumulating on this blog, and now it's time to explain the neglect and brush the cobwebs aside (thanks for the metaphor, Mary).

After about three years of labor (sure, let's have another metaphor) we have at last managed to give birth to the manuscript of a book. It may or may not end up being called Worship Words: Attending to the Power of Language in Songs, Prayers, Sermons, and All of Worship. The good people at Baker will make the final decision on title. But it is a book about language in worship, and it has indeed been a collaborative effort.

Now that we've finished it (and quick--before it comes back to us for formatting decisions, proofreading, permissions fuss, etc.), it feels good to move on with life and maybe get back to all the other things that we have been neglecting. Such as blogging, raising the children, and even brushing the very real cobwebs out of the corners of our scruffy house.

Mathlete

Warning: Indulgent brag-post ahead!

Everyone knows that athletes get all the glory. Even on this blog, we spend a disproportional number of column inches on the family's soccer exploits. Fortunately, those who love other fields of endeavor have their ways of shining, too.

Jacob, for instance, has become quite the Mathlete. Now, I don't entirely understand the allure of this extra-curricular activity. For me, doing math problems under time constraints in competition with others sounds like a hot little corner of hell. But Jacob loves it. And the good teachers at his school happily give extra time and energy to help their students excel.

So last Friday while Deb and I were driving to Chicago, Jacob was doing slide-rule calisthenics in the city-wide "Math Counts" competition. And of all the kids from the 23 competing schools, Jake snagged a 5th place individual score and an invitation to the state competition next week. We were pretty proud when the "Home Bulletin" from GRCMS arrived yesterday and we saw the write up on Jacob's achievement. Especially since last week's Home Bulletin also included a top-left write-up on another area of Jacob's scholastic achievement.

So here's to the normally unsung exploits of math and English lovers, the decathaletes of the calculator and the word processor.

Embrace Your Inner Geek

A normal Saturday night around here most weekends involves one or more of the following elements:

1. Driving back and forth to an indoor soccer game. Or two. Or more. At different fields.
   
2. Scrounging around in the cupboard and the back of the 'fridge to find something random for supper.
3. Contenting ourselves with whatever crapola happens to be on TV 'cause we're too tired to do anything creative and soul-nourishing.
4. Laundry--always the laundry.

I'm proud to announce, however, that last Saturday, we did something utterly wild and crazy: we had a party. Yup, it's true. With friends and party food and the whole bit.

Admittedly, this was a party with a geek quotient that was off the charts, but this will surprise no one. The occasion was the news that Ron passed his Ph.D. comprehensive exams, as described in the previous post. So naturally we invited people who would appreciate such a geeky occasion and who would consent to play games fitting to the day.

For instance, we had a "name that dissertation" contest. We divided into four groups and handed out a list of theological and academic buzzwords. Each group worked the jargon, and now Ron has four excellent dissertation titles to choose from. See the poll on the sidebar and cast your vote for your favorite!

Personally, I prefer the one about "post-post-post emergent nuhomiletic," but that's because my group, which included Jenny "Slash" Williams and Laura "Orthoparadox" Keeley, lovingly crafted it.

We also played "Liturgical Balderdash" -- a worship-wonk version of the game "dictionary," wherein Ron gave us obscure liturgical terms and we came up with proposed definitions.

Never mind what these words really mean (look 'em up if you must know). Here are some highlights culled from the group's suggestions.

Thurible -- adj. When the Maundy Thursday service goes south (speak with a lisp to get the full effect).

Synaxis -- noun. The mathematical calculation of snacks needed per person during fellowship time, taking into account hunger, need for energy (in terms of sugar), mood of hungry people, length or sermon, bitterness of communion wine, etc.

Insufflation --noun. The heavy sigh made by long-suffering congregants when the sermon is insufferable (this never happens at our church, Jack. No worries). It could also mean the sharp short inhale when the pastor makes an unexpected reference to sex (this -- maybe).

So all in all, the party was a success. The kids were having their own geeky fun downstairs playing "Settlers of Cataan"(the apples don't fall far...), but let the record show that Miriam and Lynnae hung around with the grown-ups, and they also gave every indication of enjoying themselves.

Let the record also show that while I refrained from switching loads during the actual party, I nevertheless still managed to get some laundry done on Saturday night.

Ph.D. "Candidate"

Whoo-hoo, it's time to Ce-Luh-Brate!!

I have received official word that I passed my comprehensive exams!

That means I'm A * B * D , baby!

(That's "all but dissertation" for those of you who haven't endured the torture.)

A big shout-out to to all of you who:

• kindly asked how the studying was going
• were extra special nice to me during November and December
• helped Deb out with managing the kids and household while I was "in seclusion"
• put up with mood swings from despair to elation, etc.
• lent me obscure theology books or assured me that the one I was looking for wasn't that important anyway

I'll now be engaged in a week's worth of celebration -- said celebration consisting mostly of crossing household-chore-type items off to-d0 lists that have accumulated since 2004. Anyone wanna come over for a seriously fun "replace the utility sink" party?

Whew!

Evidently, we have discovered the line of preoccupation beyond which blogging does not occur. It's a line formed by Ph.D. comprehensive exams and shaded with a major public lecture situation.

But all that is over now! Ron spent November and much of December up to his elbows in esoteric theology books and up to his eyebrows in esoteric theological thoughts. He completed the comprehensive exams the Friday before Christmas. Still haven't heard back yet on whether he passed them all, but we're cautiously optimistic, and we'll post news here as soon as we have it.

Meanwhile, he prepped for two intensive classes on Worship and Homiletics that he's in the midst of teaching right now at WTS, and he completed an adult education curriculum for the CRC on worship. Not entirely sure how that got done by the deadline (December 16), but a bit of help from me and the promised financial bonus for on-time delivery no doubt had something to do with it.

Meanwhile, I spent Christmas break preparing to teach interim and to give a January Series lecture. The lecture happened yesterday. Thankfully, it went fine, at least according to some witnesses of possible extreme bias. It's hard for me to know, truly, as the whole thing felt rather like an out-of-body experience. I can say that the Calvin staff was at their best: organized, hospitable, cheerful. As someone once remarked about Calvin, "the place runs like butta." That's often absolutely true. I hope all our guest speakers feel as welcome and appreciated.

I also found out just how kind and supportive my good friends and colleagues can be. I have a lot to be thankful for.

Let's see: what else? Sometime in the last few weeks Christmas happened, too. I think. Not entirely sure, actually. It's all a blur. Hmmm. Well, we do have photographic evidence that Miriam, Philip, and Ron played key, bathrobe-style roles in our church's Christmas Eve pageant. Miriam made for a very blonde, blue-eyed Mary. Philip played the young Jesus (for which he was gleefully teased by his siblings--"What would Philip do?" etc.). Ron drew upon his seminary memories of certain professors and convincingly portrayed the wicked King Herod. Thankfully, Jacob and I just lurked among the musicians, playing our instruments along with the hymns.

So at last, after all that, life slows down a bit and we're back to just work and school and the usual round of soccer and church stuff. Poor Jacob finally got a haircut yesterday after a month of looking like David Cassidy circa 1974 after misplacing his mousse and blowdryer.

Oh, in other news, Ron has at last succumbed to two years of propaganda (the result of my politics of food class) and become a food zealot. Michael Pollan's new book, In Defense of Food, toppled him over the edge. The children are completely dismayed. Now it's not just Mom making snide remarks about high-fructose corn syrup. Now Dad is constantly asking "Would your great grandmother recognize that as food?" and writing things like "organic chickpeas" into our family menu.

That about catches us up, I guess. Now back to our usual blogging on random nutty ideas and insignificant news items.

Tempus Fugit

Last night was Mia's middle-school graduation. We all got dressed up and went to the local high school for a very nice ceremony with pomp and circumstance and earnest prayers and speechifying about making a difference and even a bit of liturgical dance. Nary a hint of the civil religion we endured at Jacob's culmination last year.

Years ago, I wrote a snarky song for my little sister when she graduated from middle school. The song was entitled "No Big Deal." It suggested that the genuine big deal would be a few years off yet.

I still feel a little of that snark, but I admit that last night was kind of a big deal. Not necessarily because passing 8th grade math and English and science is a significant accomplishment in itself, but because these events give us a chance to look back and see that there has been a whole lot of life invested in this blond 14-year old with a big smile and an iron will -- a whole lot of tears and talk, of playing and praying and laughing and loving, and no small number of mini-van miles. She has been this wonderful gift from God -- to us, and increasingly, to the world.

Pride, it seems, is a potent alchemy of nostalgia, gratitude, humility, and astonishment.

Time flies -- and significant milestones pass us by in a blur.

Gaudiamus Igitur

Consumatum est. I took my Latin final today.

How'd I do?

Let me just say: veni vidi vici bootay (or would it be declined boot-am? Well, quem cura.)

We're thinking of having a toga party this weekend to celebrate, based on a friend's dictum. Crank up the tunes! Gaudeamus Igitur!

A Recollection of Genius

Yesterday's post about drum circles reminded me of a funny song lyric written by our genius friend Andrew Burnett. He wrote it for the comedy show we started together at PTS in 1992, Theologiggle. The lyric doesn't mention drumming explicitly, but the reference is there for those with eyes to see and ears to hear.

The opening skit of the show was a spoof Gilbert & Sullivan musical number, "I Am the Very Model of a Princeton Seminarian." It consisted of a handful of seminarian caricatures each singing a verse introducing themselves.

• there was the brown-nosing, nerdy super-student, who sang: "I've memorized the dates and times significant in history/but the other kind of dating, I'm afraid, is still a mystery."
• the insufferably arrogant Old Testament Ph.D. candidate: "I gladly share my knowledge of the sources extra-biblical/That show the Hebrew scriptures for their time were pretty typical."
• the crunchy-granola eco-feminist: "I've done my best to rescue the rain forests of the Amazon/in winter I turn down the heat and put my wool pajamas on."
  
• the pragmatic, about-to-graduate senior: "I've got new glasses, done my hair to make my image glossier/I've heard it's the first thing they look at your dossier."

And the theological adventurer, whose whole verse goes thus:

I am the very model of a Princeton Seminarian.
When I arrived, it's true, I was a boring Trinitarian;
Confined within the constructs of my heritage confessional;
But now I can equivocate just like a real professional.

I've known the tension and the angst of circles hermeneutical;
My quest for authenticity has been so therapeutical;
I've been a fool; thought I was cool for being neo-orthodox;
But now I've seen the light while dancing naked at the equinox.

I used to think in black and white my doctrines Calvinistical;
But now I know to claim absolute truth is egotistical;
I thank thee, God, that I am not like Hodge predestinarian,
I am the very model of a Princeton Seminarian.

It's pretty cold in Michigan on March 21, but I make no promises about where I'll be that night. Especially if there's a full moon.

Shaniqua on the Job

One of our favorite children’s books is Julius Lester’s “What a Truly Cool World,” which features the wonderful character, Shaniqua, the “angel in charge of everybody’s business.” When something fortuitous or especially providential seems to happen (e.g. a parking spot opens up right next to the entrance as we pull into the mall parking lot), we will often give the credit, tongue-in-cheek, to our friend Shaniqua.

So a couple weeks ago this fellow comes to my door, giving me the "opportunity" to "win" $1000. I'm not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but I'm not quite that dim. Still, I was polite while the fellow urged me to sign up, and explained that if I didn't win the 1K, there was a "consolation" prize: to have the carpets in my house cleaned.

I’m not exactly sure why – it had something to do with the tiny chance of winning some money, something to do with confidence in my ability to say “no” to products I don’t want or people I don’t want in my house, something to do with… well, with the cosmic order of things. I signed the card.

The following week, I received a phone call, saying I'd "won" the consolation prize, and when would be a good time for Mr. Vacuum Guy to do my household carpets.

"Well, we don't have any carpet in our home," I told her. "We have wood floors and a few area rugs."

She replied, "An alternative would be for him to shampoo any upholstery you have."

"Nope. None of that neither," I said. "But I DO have a car that desperately needs some shampooing, after a chocolate something or other exploded in the back seat and sprayed the car with gunk."

Undeterred, she began to set up an appointment. We settled on a possible time, and I then asked if the fellow would be ready not to shampoo the carpets, but to clean my car.

"I'll have to check on that," she said.

"You check on it, then," I said. "When you do, and have confirmed that my car is what he'll do, call me back and we’ll put the appointment in ink." She agreed and I figured that was the end of that story.

Imagine my surprise the following week when Mr. Vacuum Guy showed up at my house, 30 minutes before the time we had sort of arranged, ready to step inside and show me the collection of dust and insect doots and who knows what carpet-loving evils I subjected my family to each day -- and of course, his marvelous solution.

Well, we were just sitting down to eat, I told him, and I hadn't really agreed to a visit for carpet cleaning. But I did have a nasty car that needed help. If he were eager for my attention, I could observe him cleaning my car and give my opinion of the machine he used to do it. He was unsure what to do, so he went away, apparently called his boss, who gave him permission to give me an “outside of home” demonstration. When he returned after dinner, he was ready to clean the car. "It's pretty bad, I said. You’d be surprised.”

"No problem," he replied. "I used to do auto detailing. We'll get 'er in shape right away." I got him some lemonade, and we spent a nice hour, chatting pleasantly as he did a spectacular job on my car.

Then I mentally checked off a huge item off my "to do" list.

Way to go, Shaniqua!

Mr. Hollander's Opus First-Draft

The CICW posted this week their latest feature story about 'contemporary' worship planning and structure. I was heartened to see that all the good folks quoted and mentioned in the article -- Shannon Sisco in Chicago, Dean Kladder in New Jersey, Peter Armstrong in Seattle, Allison Ash and Guy Higashi in California -- all of them have, at one time or another, been students of mine. They're all out there doing great work and teaching others and serving the kingdom. I'm proud to be part of this network of creativity and inspiration, but of course, I've just handed on to them what I've received myself.

Yet More Awards

***Warning: This is an equal-opportunity bragging post.***

A couple weeks ago, we boasted shamelessly about Miriam's school awards and Jacob's violin playing. Well, now it's Philip's turn. And Jacob's again.

Philip had his first-grade award assembly last week and we are pleased to report that he received the highest award in his class: Crusader of the Year. It's hard, as a parent, to know how to feel about this. Of course we're proud of him for winning the award that honors both high scholastic achievement and excellent classroom citizenship. But are we pleased that our child has turned out to be, according to his school, a good crusader? How do we explain this to Muslim friends??

Meanwhile, Jacob completed fifth grade, an event celebrated last week at "culmination." Amid a frenzy of red, white, and blue decorations and a flurry of patriotic songs, about 120 fifth-graders completed their elementary careers. We gritted our teeth through this blatant and unqualified blending of religion and patriotism (take-away message: Good American = Good Christian), until at last they announced the big award winners for each of the four fifth-grade classes. Jacob narrowly avoided winning "crusader of the year" this time (he won it last year), but he did win the award for highest academic achievement. This came with a nice little scholarship -- $250!! If he keeps this up, we'll have little to worry about when it comes to his college tuition.

But of course, we found out the next day that this scholarship will be denied us because we are moving. Thanks, people. Thanks so much. Well, at least we are rich in pride.

Prof. Pay Day!

None of the official Fuller curriculum-guidance documents require a final exam for any of classes I taught this quarter (Homiletics, Worship Theology & Praxis, Crafting Language). So I haven't given any. It ends up being a win-win: My students don't want to take one, and I don't want to write or grade one.

But there is a huge payoff, I discovered this week, to doing some sort of end-of-the-quarter assessment. That payoff is in finding out whether or not my students have learned anything in the past 10 weeks -- well, more specifically, whether anything they learned had anything to do with what I hoped they might learn.

And the miraculous, grace-filled answer is that they did. Did they ever! I spent a few hours -- really precious hours, as it turns out -- prompting a course review in each class, and then listening to the students identify the things they found most valuable in our reading and writing and thinking and discussing and praying and sharing. Stuff I was sure had sailed in one ear and out the other instead came right back to me in better form than I gave it out. Book recommendations I'd made off the cuff turned out to catalyze all kinds of other things they were learning outside of our class. Seeds I planted (seeds I myself received from others) are starting to bloom and these folks showed me their gardens. Woot! It's a good crop!

I left my last class thinking about the rewards of teaching. Yep. That's why I'm doing this. Good to get a reminder once in a while.

Award Week

Warning: This is a blatant boast-post. Please ignore if you hate this sort of thing.

It began on Tuesday night, at Jacob's orchestra concert. The elementary orchestra played--more or less in the keys of D and G Major--and a few students did solos. Granted, standards were not especially high. But when our boy sounded the first notes of his solo, it was fun to watch the other parents' jaws drop. Jacob played even better than he does at home, which might suggest the virtues of playing conditions that do not involve dishes clanking and little brothers running around.

Then, on Thursday, I attended the Fuller Seminary awards convocation. No big surprises here. I knew I had received a Brehm Fellowship since, well, that's how we've been paying my tuition all year. Still it was a nice occasion and I enjoyed getting some props from the be-robed Fuller faculty. That's me up there with President Mouw and my fellow Brehmmie, Eric Jacobsen. Really. It is. Stupid flash.


Next up: Mia. Friday morning at 8 a.m. was middle-school awards "chapel." It was less a chapel than an occasion on which middle schoolers could enjoy screaming and cheering for their classmates with impunity. Mia had no idea that she was getting an award, but fortunately, the school had notified her mom and dad, so we were there. To keep the secret from Mia, we had to come up with blatant lies about "having a meeting" that morning in order to explain why we were dressed and ready so early. Each teacher gave an award to one student in each subject in each grade level. Mia, all our geeky math-and-science friends will be happy to learn, got the seventh grade science award, and a shiny bit of atom-shaped bling-bling that I proudly wore as a tie-tack the rest of the day.

And last but not least, the rumors have now been confirmed. Deb's book So Much More was chosen by Christianity Today magazine to receive an Award of Merit for 2006 in the apologetics/evangelism category. Whoo hoo! It's great for Deb as a young whipper-snapper writer to be among a hoary assembly of authors the likes of N.T. Wright, Rowan Williams, Robert Wuthnow, Eugene Peterson, and other old white guys.

That's it this week. But Pip's award assembly is coming up soon. Last year he got best "Christian Attitude." Let's hope he's got the spiritual resources to deal with a) his insufferably self-pleased parents and siblings and b) a house whose current state of upheaval guarantees that the Rienstra family will win no housekeeping accolades anytime soon.

Happy Anniversary to Us!

As of today, April 30, we have been married 18 years. Just look at those little punks who thought they could keep those momentous, life-changing promises. Wow.

And now look at us--three children, a mortgage, a minivan, one-and-a-half Ph.D.s, and several cross-country moves later.

Last year on our anniversary my mother asked me how many years we had been married. Seventeen, I told her. "Well," she replied, "you're getting there." She and my dad have been married for 57 years. Talk about perspective.

Still, we've lived a lot of life in 18 years. I'm feeling proud, as if this is something we've accomplished, and grateful, because it's not. It's grace.

Festival of Faith & Writing

Last weekend I had the joy of attending Festival 2006 at Calvin. Since I missed the one in 2004 while we were in Britain, I was especially eager to get to this one.

Some highlights:

Since I was a speaker flying in from out of town, I got to stay at the Prince Center. That is the life, my friends. Great room all to myself, excellent service, and you get to hang out with all the famous writers at breakfast because they're staying there, too. The publisher exhibit area as well as many of the sessions are all right there in the building. The Prince Center, I have to admit, has transformed the Festival from a makeshift circus to a classy, organized event.

I finally met several amazing people whom I knew only from e-mail correspondence: Leslie Leyland Fields, Andy Crouch, Lauren Winner, and Donna Kehoe just to name a few. Also got to spend some quality time with my editor at Jossey-Bass, Sheryl Fullerton, and her colleague Julianna Gustafson.

Did a session on "the new apologetics" with Donald Miller. It's impossible not to feel old and square next to this guy who is the epitome of hip and cool and has sold a zillion books. But according to audience members, the session came off well. At the very least it was nice for me to meet Donald Miller and to think about interesting developments in the Christian book world.

Saw a number of former students, all grown up now. Sigh. Saw a number of my Calvin colleagues, happily just the same as ever. Sigh.

Got inspired. I was asked to host a session for Julia Kasdorf, whose poetry I had never read. I ordered her books ahead of time and found myself becoming a fan. Reading her work has inspired me to work harder at my poetry and have higher standards. Also got inspired by a workshop on "reality marketing." Time to get more serious about promoting my books.

Speaking of, one of the things I learned was "put your readers to work for you." Word of mouth is the most powerful force in book sales. So if you have read *So Much More* and liked it, would you find a way in the next few weeks to spread the word? Example: review on amazon, tell your pastor, tell your book club, buy it for a friend, send the website URL to someone. Thanks! Note: If you read it and hated it, just keep quiet. Thanks.

Just-in-Time Help for the Harried Worship Planner

A while ago, I wrote about the work I was doing on a second volume of the next great Christian publishing franchise: Ten Service Plans for Contemporary Worship. I am pleased to announce that the second volume is printed and ready to go. Ladies and gentlemen, warm up your credit cards.

It was a long difficult slog pulling it together, but I'm rather pleased how it turned out. The services are not intended, of course, to be borrowed wholesale and used in different congregations exactly as they are. I expect people will use them as jumping off points for their own planning, or glean from these plans particular resources for their own services.

In fact, I think the best feature of this book is the immediate availability of bonus material: sheet music, mp3 files, jpg files and other good stuff -- all free, all available on the web, and featured in this publication. Plan 4, for example, begins with the song "The Lord Be with You," a riff on the traditional Reformed votum. I composed it for use at LOFT, and have given it away regularly when I do worship workshops. One can now download a lead sheet and listen to an Mp3 recording of that song from a supplemental materials page.

The good folks at the CICW were kind enough to host the "supplemental materials" page -- but I've been toying lately with the idea of an entirely separate site that would function as a constantly updated worship resource clearing house. I have in mind a collaborative and interactive blog site where members could solicit help for their own weekly worship planning, and post their latest great worship idea to share with other interested worship wonks. Music, written prayers, artwork, photos, books, links, etc. -- all sorts of resources for the harried but thoughtful worship planner. Easter is coming up - what will you sing other than "Up From the Grave He Arose"? You could go to this site to find ideas for yourself if you're stumped. Or you could go there to create a post telling others about that wonderful Honduran "Alleluia" you found in an obscure songbook.

I think the idea of a blog to help worship planners and leaders has so much promise, in fact, that I'm actively soliciting folks who would be interested in being founding members. Hey worship wonk friends! (or strangers!) - if this sounds like you, drop me a line.

Whoo hoo!

Ahh - there's nothing like finishing up a big ole project, handing it in, and heading off for a week's R&R. A friend of mine says you have to celebrate with at least as much enthusiasm and energy as you expended in earning the celebration. If that's the case, I should pretty much take the rest of the year off. A week will have to do. And probably will.