Christmas Poem

The night was holy, the night was clear,
a cosmic event was happening here

Upon the earth a plan was unfolding
because of the babe that Mary was holding

Away in a manger the infant slept
a ray of hope into all hearts crept

The Lord that was come brought Joy to the World
while skies full of angels his banner unfurled

Jacob’s ladder bridged heaven and earth
Jacob’s descendent gave heaven birth

Nothing now could be the same,
Heaven had shared its holy flame

Stars that burned since dawn of time
now joined Angels in visual rhyme

Glory that always had filled the skies
Now was revealed in a baby’s cries

What Child is this? could rightly be asked
The face of God was being unmasked

Listen, what’s that the angels sing?
Glory to the newborn King

Having visited our demise
He can raise us to the skies

Consider all he came to do
Life from Heaven for me and you

Just as God’s will in Heaven is done
So also on Earth through the birth of His Son!

Christmas letter take 2

Life is a stream.  Oatmeal and math flow along on Monday, though our Mondays, like yours, often include rocks and bumps that impede the flow.  On Tuesday there’s Toast and eggs and still math and the history lesson that wouldn’t work on the computer yesterday. 

Everybody loves waffles on Wednesday because we get to put peanut butter on them.   And Piano in the afternoon while Dad reads and takes a nap (as he tries to do every day).  Home-made Granola or your “cereal of choice” on Thursdays and off to worship practice and chess at the Home-school co-op.  On French toast Friday there’s more math and writing and always there’s “read aloud” at lunch.  I love the rhythm of our home-schooling schedule and though I’m in and out, Mom keeps it flowing as Haddon and Soren keep paddling downstream.

 Life is a Garden.  After tilling and planting and weeding and watering, it’s time to “reap what we’ve sown.”  Our daily bread is embellished by the home-made raspberry jam we spread on it.  We eat fresh vegetables that make us strong and have a moment of silence for the rows that did not bear fruit.  High hopes lie wilted by drought or eaten by pests.  We feel intense disappointment, reminding us that life will not be all that it should be until we arrive at our true home. 

Life is a building project, started in the Summer of 2012 and beginning to “yield” as students are living there and meetings are held there. (see pics of “The Lodge” on FaceBook)  I learned a lot from my experience as “General Contractor.” 

But I realized that excavating, foundation, framing, plumbing, drywall, painting, etc. are not my Life.  I love writing and missed the opportunity to compose!  I’m more of a “Wordsmith,” crafting sentences to build understanding, develop insights, and create inhabitable worlds for seeking souls.

My wife encourages me in this, and I only hope I can return the favor by helping her rediscover what areas of gifting bring her the greatest joy and satisfaction.  Even though  laundry and cleaning and homeschooling and making nutritious meals and all manner of household management are in her skill set, there’s more she’s good at and enjoys.  She  did a great job with food & flowers for Amanda’s wedding, all within budget, and her research for meal-planning and homeschooling are ongoing.  She sells books on Amazon and tends the garden in season.

We’re working on partnership in campus ministry.  I couldn’t pull off Friday potluck alone.  And it’s not just the soup or the crust on “pizza night” or the beans for the burritos.  I appreciate her help deciding whether to play “Apples to Apples” or “Catch Phrase” and what to watch for “Movie Night.”  She always spots the college students we need to greet on Sunday morning and when possible she has girls over to the house for discipleship.

Some new staff are helping with Campus Ambassadors.  Zach Beeler has almost finished raising support and Heidi Harbaugh has joined us as a volunteer. It’s great to have them at the book table, at staff meetings, Bible Study and Potluck.

I still look forward to Cave discussions on Friday afternoon, where guys like Ian the Agnostic, Chris the Druid, Ben the ex-Mormon, Taylor the Daoist and Paul the Orthodox debate and discuss things like Rationality and Consciousness.  Campus ministry is a great job, I can honestly say I've never given much serious thought to doing anything else. 

Christmas Lett draft #1

If Life were a donut shop, Soren would be in Heaven, though I’m sure his life here in the Lundquist home involves more “sweet toys” than sweet pastries.  Saving his hard-earned paper route money for “Black Friday,” he just added 3 weapons to his Nerf gun arsenal.  I did take him to “ABC Donuts” after putting out flags on Main St. for Veterans Day (a Boy Scout fund-raiser).  He wisely chose a dollars worth of “holes.”

If Life was a mountain . . . Kaleb would be saying “no sweat” as he summits yet another peak.  He’ll complete his climb up Airman Leadership School before coming home for Christmas.  Soon his climbing gear will include Staff Sergeant stripes.

If Dreams were made of cotton candy and clouds were solid stuff . . .
Katie would be riding on the clouds eating the sweet sticky stuff for breakfast
and sliding down the nearest rainbow to a pot of gold. 
The “golden” boy is Cole Harmon, who currently resides in Redding where they both are studying hard and worshipping even harder at Bethel School of Supernatural Ministry.

If mountain goats could talk, they would say to Amanda . . . “I’ve seen you before,” on the rocky crags above Glacier National Park!  But that was long ago when she was but a child.  Now this grown daughter has multiplied love and blessing in our family and to everyone she meets, where-ever she goes, around the world. As the wife of Joel Le Maire, she has multiplied her joy in the husband God brought.  How strange to gain a son who is mature, full-grown (bearded even) and a world-traveler!  He is “grafted in” to our family tree, a branch full of green leaves and bearing good fruit!

If Life is a Tree, Carrie is a blossom, fragrant and beautiful on the tropical Isle.   At home on the beach, living like a local but loving it like a tourist, she is no stranger to hard work.   Two or three jobs pay the rent and buy food, but there are always free mangos!  An artist at heart she has never put down the palette and brushes and hopes to see some of her paintings selling in a gallery on Maui in the very near future.

Since Life is definitely an Ocean, Susi’s grasp of the wind and tides often remind me of the QE2!  Her multi-tasking skills as she keeps in mind an absent-minded husband and children in five states makes me feel like I’m body surfing in Santa Cruz without a wetsuit!  She still assists the “grown children” with everything from nutritional advice to on-line shopping, all the while home-schooling the younger boys and tracking Ben’s progress through High School.

If Life were a High School football game, Nate would be moving on to coaching the team, having given 100% to the game for so many years.  His playing field is a restaurant in Hawaii, where his roles as busboy, cook, dishwasher and server led to becoming a manager who knows and cares about every aspect of customer satisfaction.  When he’s not working he spends time with books and a few close friends.

In the Construction Site of Life, Matt is “back to the drawing board,” realizing that the excavating, foundation, framing, plumbing, drywall, painting, etc. is not as suited to his gifts as the drawing up of blueprints.  After all, someone has to envision the possible structures, or stand back and describe it to the world once it’s finished (see pics of “The Lodge” on FaceBook).  The building experience was productive and profitable, and he learned a lot, notably how much he loves and misses the opportunity to write!  Now he can focus on becoming a “Wordsmith,” crafting sentences and paragraphs to build understanding, develop insights, and create inhabitable worlds for seeking souls.


Haddon’s Life is clearly a Symphonic Performance, though we’re currently trying to minimize the cacophony.  He really can “make a joyful noise” when his heart is in tune.  But, like our guitars, which need frequent re-tuning, it’s an ongoing process.  In addition to guitar, drums and keyboard, he plans to pick up bass soon, as he moves full speed ahead in Home-school co-op worship class.  Legos are an important component he is building into his life.  So he was disappointed when, on Black Friday, with no Legos on sale, his paper route earnings nearly incinerated the pocket of his Levi’s.

If Life was a Chicken Coop, we might say Ben’s relationship to it was kind of “Love-Hate.”  There are chickens, who need food and water and who fill their beloved home with fertilizer for the garden, and all of this Ben looks after, while we encourage due diligence in each task.  But when he has “flown the coop” to the High School or to church on Sunday, Ben much prefers to observe and explore the outside world, his mind gathering interesting information.  He might be considered a typical teenager in that chores and responsibilities also “Fly the Coop.”  These must be faithfully gathered like the eggs that Ben brings up each day after tending to the chickens.

You’ve probably noticed that Life is also a Garden, and after careful attention to tilling and planting and weeding and watering, it’s time to “reap what we’ve sown.”  Tears and laughter, joy and pain accompany us as we bring in our harvest.  Our souls are enriched by daily bread and refreshed by the home-made raspberry jam we spread on it.  We eat the vegetables that make us strong and have a moment of silence for the rows that did not yield.  Plants we envisioned nourishing our spirits lie wilted by drought and heat or eaten by destructive pests.  Our disappointments are keenly felt, reminding us that Life will not be all that it should be until we come at last to that Garden remade. 

Yet through every season of Growing and Gathering there is Sunshine and Rain and our Creator is working it all to our Good.  Because He is Good, and it is good for us to praise and thank Him.  And good for us to trust Him as well. 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from the Lundquists

Relationships are like Riding in a Hot-Air Balloon!

Here’s a sobering truth I have come to believe:
Your BEST relationships will be hindered by the condition of your WORST relationships!
Let’s say you’re about to take off in a Hot-air ballon with your new “significant other” optimistic that you’ll be soaring to new heights!   Unfortunately the “baggage” from all past relationships act as “ballast” preventing us from reaching the higher “altitudes.”  Whether it’s unresolved issues with your family, ex-boyfriend or girlfriend, or just the grudge that you carry towards someone who snubbed you.
This is why Jesus taught us to “Love your Enemies”  God knows that however we treat our worst enemies is the way we may one day treat our family, friends, and spouse.  Because eventually, anyone can get on your “wrong side.”  Think about this.
We need to “cut loose” the baggage, letting go of past hurts and seeking reconciliation.
"And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you" (Ephesians 4:32 NKJV).
Relationships do not survive without kindness and forgiveness.
- Matt Lundquist

It's a Tradition!

Family gatherings are both fun and challenging.  We look forward to spending time together, and really do enjoy seeing one another.  But the pressures of life can be multiplied when we're expected to perform.  Especially on Thanksgiving, everything must be just right.  We get out the china and the crystal, make special rolls and mashed potatoes, put the black olives and sweet midget pickles on the table.  Of course the bird must be cooked to perfection, and then there's the gravy.

We hosted some exchange students from Japan this year for what they were told was a "traditional dinner."  Traditions aren't something you examine directly, unless you're an anthropologist.  But when you're explaining them to someone from another country, you get a different perspective.  How many Americans think about the fact that in other countries they're not celebrating the last Thursday in November with a great feast to remember all there is to be thankful for?  And they don't celebrate the Fourth of July either!

Preparations for the "traditional meal" begin early at our house, as I suspect they do in most homes.   It starts with trying to find a time to go shopping when it won't be a problem just trying to push the cart down the aisle.  And making sure you really need another box of lime Jello for the special salad mold.  Storing a 22 pound turkey where it will thaw, but not too quickly, can give me fits.

When the out-of-town guests arrive we all get to put on our game faces.  But since it's my daughter and her husband there's not much need for masks.  They get more of the "real" sights and sounds of "home for the holidays.  This isn't the first go round for either of them, since Amanda grew up here and Joel was here last Christmas, so they're not surprised.

Soren runs out to help them unload the car, Haddon meets them at the door in his PJ's.  One of them takes Joel's bag and says, "You're sleeping on the futon, right?"
"No," he explains, "that's one of the advantages of being married.  We'll be sharing a room now!"
The boys look puzzled, but no further explanation is needed as they take both bags downstairs to Katie's room.

One of the last jobs the night before is to stuff the bird.  Division of labor calls for Susi to make the stuffing, making sure to put some apple in it.  Then it's my job to get as much of it as possible into the hollow cavity of the giant fowl.  It is then decided that the turkey will rest in the back of the Subaru until it's time to go in the oven the next morning.  The potent aroma of onion and seasoned bread crumbs will hover in the car's interior, but at least the poultry will stay in the "safe zone" - below 40 degrees - preventing the "proliferation of harmful bacteria."

At approximately 6:30 a.m. on the Big Day I check the weather and realize that my featherless friend has been out in 20 degrees, so I decide to get it in the oven a bit early.  Our friends will be joining us at 1 o'clock and I want to make sure everything is ready.  It's nice not to have newspapers to deliver on Thanksgiving Day - benefits of small-town living, there's no paper on Sunday either.

Finally it's time to drive to the University and pick up Mizuki, Yuna, and Marie.  There are five seets in the sweet-smelling Subaru so only one son can accompany me.  Haddon gets the honors because, "There has to be something that the younger brother gets to do that the older one doesn't!"

Our friends are happy to see us, even though we've just met.  Their English is quite good, making conversation easier.  Haddon acts shy at first, then, warming to his task, begins to explain things.
"Soren's at home, that's my brother, he's 11.  Amanda and Joel are there too."
"We don't live very far away, we'll be there soon."

At home it's nice having Amanda and Joel, who ask good questions.  Then the girls learn to play
Dutch Blitz while I carve the Turkey and make gravy.
"Do you think we should tell them that this card game was invented because the Dutch Reformed believed that common playing cards were 'tools of the devil?'"
Susi doesn't think this is such a good idea.  Some things tend to get lost in translation.

Finally the rolls are out of the oven, the turkey and gravy are on the table, along with everything else that our family considers the "Thanksgiving essentials."  We call everyone to the table, eleven in all, and I try to explain the origins of this holiday before having each one share something that we're thankful for.

Strange to think that families all over are sitting down to similar meals, at various times of day.  We explain to our guests that some things are pretty "standard fare" - the turkey, potatoes, stuffing and gravy.  While other items might be unique to our family, like the "frog pond salad" (not made with real frogs, I reassure them, getting a nice courtesy laugh.

It all turns out nicely.  The kids enjoy another game between the meal and the pie - "Wii dance."  The Japanese girls tell me our boys are good at it!  After apple and pumpkin with whipped cream I drive them home.  They assure me it was a memorable experience.  I am very glad we had them come.

One other thing sticks with me.  It's "Only in America."  Not because we're the only ones who are thankful, or even because we have the most to be thankful for.  But because the Governor of Mass. set aside a day to remember to give thanks, and we have continued to observe it.  That's my story and I'm sticking with it!         

On Amanda's Birthday

Nov. 25, 2013
On this day in '84 we learned what life was really for
having children, giving birth, souls in bodies on the earth
First-time parents, we were in awe, what we felt and what we saw
Dear Amanda had arrived and from day one this family thrived
She was sweet and kind to us, quick to smile and not to fuss
Her first laughter came one night filled our hearts with such delight
Had to wonder what we'd done, before she came to bring such fun
once she had an idea wild, get everyone to sponsor a child
with Compassion International, and her efforts were quite intentional
In home-school she set the pace, while her siblings found their place
she loved to read, she loved to learn, she always let others have their turn
In high school helping with youth group, or in our kitchen serving soup
Amanda's love and care for others, went beyond her sisters and brothers
Moving to India she worked to free families from sla-ver-y
meeting Joel in God's good time, made her life-long poem rhyme
now in Salem they're a team, in their eyes there is a gleam
Seeking God's Kingdom to advance, finding their Divine Romance
Daughter Amanda you surely shine, as you're turning twenty nine!
Happy Birthday! LOVE, Mom & Dad

Adventures in Mexico

Numero Uno o Numero Dos?

Leo and I took the van to have some work done. 
One of the “perks” of being a leader on the Mexico trip is that sometimes you just “have to” run errands and get things done - while others are working.
So you get the team going and you grab the van and head to the “Mechanico.” 
This time there just happened to be an awesome place to get some shrimp tostadas. 
It was looking very “tropical” with a thatched roof and stools pulled up around tall round tables.

We ordered up our tostadas and bought some “Ice-cold Cokes.” 
We were reminiscing about past trips, haps and mishaps, the time we ran out of gas, the time we had the flat tire,
all the times we got stuck in the mud, the one time when we didn’t get stuck in the mud . . .

We were feeling pretty fortunate, even a bit privileged, sitting at our stools, satisfied with our meal, sipping our sodas.
It was about time to go back to the mechanic’s shop and check up on the van.  Just one last thing -
“Donde esta El Bano?” 

For those of you who haven’t spent much time south of the border, this has got to be one of the most useful phrases in the Spanish language, a must for the serious tourist.
Loosely translated it means, “I gotta use the potty!”

And even if your comprehension isn’t  so good, the combination of facial expression, pointing and gesturing, along with other context clues will be enough to unravel the mystery:
Do they have a bathroom?  Is it in working order?  How far away is it?  Which way do I go? and, if you’re lucky, Should I bring my own T.P.?

Leo and I, being experienced travelers, have used this phrase often, with quite favorable results. 
We’re so proud of our skills we even offer to help the new kids out by asking this all-important question and interpreting the response. 
The one thing we didn’t expect that day at the Tostada stand was for our question to be met with a question. 
The restaurant proprietor smiled real big, and holding up his fingers inquired,
“Numero uno o numero dos?”
I was confused.  We had already ordered.  We had already eaten.  Was he offering us a combination plate?  The daily special?  Take-out?

It finally dawned on me what he was asking, though I still had no idea why he wanted to know. 
Never mind the “Bring-your-own-toilet-paper?” question. 
He could sidestep that once he narrowed down just how we wanted to use the facility.

But Leo, being just ahead of me on the uptake, was already answering,
“Numero uno!  Solamente numero uno.”
(Leo’s spanish is just short of excellent.)

With a pleased smile and some light laughter our host was now leading us around a corner and pointing down an alley to a chain-link fence about ten yards away. 
Having once been boys, we knew what to do.

As we stood side by side peeing through the fence, we laughed as we came up with various speculations about what would have happened if we needed “Numero Dos.”

“Down the street, second door on your right.”
“Excuse us, we’re here to use the Bano.”
“We gotta go ‘numero dos’”
“Yeah, we brought our own paper.”

It doesn’t take much to get me and Leo laughing, and we had soon worked out a scenario where we got the wrong door looking for the bathroom, and walked in on some unsuspecting family.
LOL ROTFL Almost busted a gut on that one.  Just another day in the "Adventures in Mexico" notebook.