Comfort at Risk

Watch out when you hang around the young

Amusingly, in an almost perverse way, I have recently found myself being greatly impacted by two youthful generations, well youthful as in much younger than me. One interesting fact is that they both have caused me great angst and have prompted me to look at myself and how I relate to them. I find it is not the constant activity or attention they seem to seek, or demand, better want, rather the noise they bring to my well balanced, at least according to my mind and habits, Life and perspective. Noise is also defined as interruption of my view concerning certain items or ideas of importance.

The one is the generation of children, yes, even grandchildren, in the 0 yrs (but able to move around) to the 5 yr old and active. While one or even two such invading my space at the same time are somewhat consistent with my eagerness for community with them and my availability, even eagerness , to participate with them, even when they are siblings with all the historical competition, I find myself quite well strengthened to overcome the “interference” with my well ordered sense of perspective. Add a third and fourth and I lose the lines I have quietly formed and after but a short bit of time find my senses overwhelmed in the cyclonic activity and ever increasing noise. They are beautiful and individually exceptional in their own right, but put together they form some example of the damage that can come from any gene pool, even my own. I love these little persons to an extreme and at the same time am driven almost to the edge of my sanity by the huge difference in their means of entertainment as compared to mine.

The second “challenge group” is the generation of young adults, even more specific, young adults of similar passion or direction of passion as to complement my desire to be a most loving and affective impact on my dear friends in Rionchogu, Kenya. Yes, yes, I know how can there be any similarity of intrusion, yes, intrusion, by two such non-congruent people groups in two completely unrelated issues of one’s life?

Simply; at the limit when they become the most contradictory to my view or perspective, they also identify the point at which I am forced to face my own comfort zones. Comfort zones are about as high as you can get on my “I abhor” chart, yet they are so, comfortable, I, we, build them very carefully. A comfort zone according to my definition is established according to some conventional and some private or personal idea about priority and is rooted in fear and/or selfishness. Never the less, comfort zones these are and I am faced with my own personal demonstration of how difficult it is, in actuality how almost impossible it is to break down or through your very own, well constructed ‘comfort zone’.

The younger group is somewhat easily managed, call the parent on premise and instruct them on the need for intervention. Hey (name deleted to conserve family relationships) come get your kids, or kid and do something about this noise or whatever has crossed the line and endangered my comfort zone. The ‘unnamed’ parent may give a sideways look but they are as interested in preserving some sense of family peace as anyone else and the real purpose of this situation or series of situations is family and family is about as high a priority as I can place so, all works, well most of the time.

The other group though has as its priority an almost diabolical focus to challenge everything I think or have thought about the process of intercession in the social, cultural, economic, educational and relational challenges and opportunities which must be confronted, overcome, developed or replaced in both the short and long term concerning breaking the cycle of poverty and illiteracy which sheds its shadow of hopelessness across the generations of rural Africa in general and the village of Rionchogu specifically.

It may seem as if this would be the place where I would be most willing to have my comfort zone challenged and most willing to tread in unseen footsteps of the one who guides. The opposite is more accurately the unpleasant truth. Perhaps the zonal reality follows my, our, ability to remain in some sense in control. Experience some sense of purpose and some external acceptability of the efforts extended yet have planned well and work the plan with determination, dedication and focus. Set a goal and pursue it.

Fortunately or unfortunately in the case of work in Africa there has not been a plan, or even goals. I would say even the depth of the real issues at hand have only slowly risen in the upheaval that is this cycle of poverty and illiteracy. The comfort zone has been in some ways the lack of a plan to work. So my younger adult irritants point to the need for a developed understanding of what our Purpose would look like, in real terms, in terms that relate to the daily life as lived in the village and surrounding area and here, in this place of abundance.

End the comfort of the “solo Performance” and approach those of means, with a compelling view revealing how we see the cycle being broken. Stand up and be exposed in public for what you say is an answer to a concern which so far has evaded corrective efforts, even by governments.

Bring on the 0 to 4’s or 5’s bring ‘em on, by the dozen.

Their invasion is the easiest zone to get past.

Kingdom Relevancy and Which Kingdom Defines It

A recent Facebook post by a friend posed this question for thoughtful comment;
Heard on Twitter this AM.

"Most pastors suffer from a large dose of entitlement and cultural irrelevancy."

I did, what I thought was thoughtful, and decided not to comment. A couple of days later I still have this question roving in my mind. So, rather than comment on Facebook in a few words I decided to blog this and then post the blog. This may be the greatest insight into my own way of looking at such comments.

When I read comment the first thing I thought was, “who was it that made this statement and why”. It seems we all get in that place where we ask rather pointed questions about others and possibly the most poignant piece of the interaction is the mind of the one that asks. So, simply I did not comment because the response depends, it seems to me, on the purpose of the comment. The statement seems less about a person’s point of view or plan of action rather more about the character of individuals by group of who we have a predetermined expectancy, albeit our expectancy can be more off track than the one we question.

For a view on this question I have to ask who, because I think the why may come from the who. All this is not to say the statement if asked as a question is not in itself relevant because I do think it speaks volumes about the church and the determination that the church should be culturally relevant.

My response requires I make two distinctions; one is that this comment came from a person Called as a Pastor in some doctrinal context; the other is that this person is not so called and looking from the outside, if you will. So my comments take two tracks and I here hope to share them with whomever might be interested in my opinion, or just amused that someone would even take this comment this far. There is a third option and that is this statement was made by someone with a grudge against Pastors or faith in general and for that person it is somewhat like hitting a telephone pole with a baseball bat, get rid of the anger and go on.

For either of the first two options I wish to comment on one definition asks its own question, cultural relevancy, what is it? I mean what does it look like and who decides. As I ask that question another pops up, was Jesus culturally relevant or was he Counter-culturally relevant? Can you be relevant to your culture and still rebel against it? I am sure this falls under the heading of ‘in the world but not of it’ however this circle comes back to; what was the purpose to even make this statement. Just as important for me is a recognition that we are in a war between two Kingdom cultures and which kingdom decides the definition of our relevancy.

So my comment is, or are, if this is a Pastor making the statement, it seems there is way too much concern about how someone else approaches their call and way too narrow a view in definition of that call. I am reminded of a recent devotion from Oswald Chambers in which he says “Whenever a thing becomes difficult in personal experience, we are in danger of blaming God (or doctrine or messenger, italics mine), but it is we who are in the wrong, not God; there is some perversity somewhere that we will not let go.” A speck in your eye, log in mine kind of thing. SO, my comment follows a line that the church has a long history, in my opinion, of building a very small box for God which leaves only room for a narrow definition, I suspect this is from our desire to follow the narrow road. For a Pastor to decide their peers are too focused on entitlements or are culturally irrelevant seems to be a witness against others rather than for the one whom that Pastor declares they are following for all things, ALL THINGS.

The second, and most likely in my opinion, is that the statement was made by one not called to the office of Pastor. If, in fact, this is the case then it may, in my opinion, speak volumes about the training and maturity of the person making such a declaration, of course the adage ‘walk a mile in my shoes’ fits. However my own view is that this is a common outcome of a church, pastoral or doctrinal failure to challenge the understanding of those of us who sit in the pews regarding our responsibility for ministry. Somehow we see the Pastor as “called’ and therefore in some way with regard to the responsibility to the God who issued the call, and His subsequent declaration to take up your cross and follow, this Pastor has greater purpose and therefore requires greater personal deference to a greater good than his or her self, than those sitting in the pews. It seems for this group, those of us who are not called as Pastors, the statement or rather the question that begs asking is for each of us to look at that somewhat familiar face in the mirror and ask, “What do I think I am entitled to and what or how am I relevant to the culture of the Kingdom of God or counter culturally relevant to the kingdom of the world.

A statement about a group of people, however they see their own accountability to whatever or whoever the source for their current situation just seems cowardly to me. When we accept that each of us is called none of us more or less than the other and each is faced with the temptation of entitlement and relevancy of the world culture, for each of us the only path or high road is, I think, a very personal walk on the path of repentance. My soul seeks independence and my Spirit asks obedience, who am I to serve and which kingdom is my life priority?

My version of the split personality common to age

I admit going in this is a view from my eyes; I wonder how many live a similar if not duplicate series of seasons. I think the tendency is as the older we get the smaller our world becomes, the reality of this season of communication and community is that we are being challenged to expand our world and views of community. I had a great conversation with my Pastor yesterday. I am one of those fortunate who know Pastors as people, individuals and personalities more complex than my understanding of a "calling" and their 'profession' although these I speak of do not, I think, see them selves as professionals only or maybe at all, rather fellow sojourners. Off the subject.

During our conversation we opened the context of the new communities and marketplace of the Internet, much as my friend Martin Malzahn peels the layers off of in his blog http://copernicus-thewideninggyre.blogspot.com/. In fact a book Martin introduced me to was brought into the conversation as another ingredient of opening eyes to the manner in which we neatly package something or someone as important and as intimately affective in our lives as God. Which is just another method of protection to keep us from thinking in terms of expanding our own lens of the world and even our God.

I must say the conversation was stimulating and reflective of the changes and challenges awaiting us to embrace these new opportunities we participate in and then the awareness of the ones we don't. Some more regularly and some not, but, still the door is open to this change and the only pressure to stay out is that which we have learned over the seasons of life. The reality is this new arena of interaction and community building is so foreign to some of us from distant childhoods that we are, as Martin shares, foreigners in a strange land and may always bare the mark and language of our origins no matter how hard we try.

I will always speak with the accent of my generations life and world view. So I venture out, sensing and seeing the vastness of the new community but with very little in my deepest learning and practice that allows a change of life commitment to my new view. This is all a thousand words to say 'you are asking me to be public with my personal thoughts and views when I have been taught the whole of my private life to keep them in. And so I check facebook and twitter and what ever else I have had the private courage to expand into my world view but to immerse myself and share through these public outlets of privacy, not an easy transition. But not much is, if you are to embrace the emerging world of relationship and common interest, you must share your interest. Remembering that 90% or more of those out there are not interested, but that the purpose is to connect with the one or two percent, or less, who find a commonality of thought, purpose or interest in those ideas or your life journey no matter how long or winding. Everyone's agreement is not required for your community to have a new and greater value because of the new process to gather it. So my 'old' friends, look through the new glass and be who you are and not the you that your parents or culture or historical traditions have taught you. Rather the you with the expressive mind and wealth of ideas from your experience and a new determination of your own value that a new community may learn from the wealth of that experience.

How much will this internet community lose because we are not comfortable engaging it?

Is Each Day All it Can Be

OR should I even contemplate that?

I tend to be a procrastinator at the base level of daily activity. I am not sure how many are similar or on the other end of process which for me would be to get out and go, do something, for that is the purpose of a day and to find any peace at all one must be busy. I am well aware and agree that there are many shades and for many reasons valid circumstance for changes in any days approach to life. However I do submit that over a period of time we tend to be more one than the other. Either extreme, however, has, as do things of extreme, more potential for bearing the mark of our personal agenda rather than some participation in a purpose greater than ourselves.

What has this to do with Going and Doing? OK, now think about your reaction, there are two answers to this question; everything and nothing. Each has, I think, its own expectations of outcome and purpose of activities and efforts or any focus. For my purpose the real question is not how do we approach the day from the perspective of our personality or individual priorities as to the importance of our actions, rather from what, where or who do we get our sense of these directions or priorities of purpose each day. It is in this context that I place the validity of each and every day, even those days when I am far from the perfect mark of the greater purpose of authority. (They are really the same).

Going and Doing seems an acceptable way to practice the obvious thoughts such as ‘simple acts of kindness’ or ‘do unto others’ or ‘take the extra step’ or ‘reach out’. Actually any action to help another person may well be included in this category. I would agree that any of these can be positive interactions and provide a degree of satisfaction towards one’s own sense of supportive social activity. I would allow also that these are each very important to a healthy community of any peoples who have a determination or focus to live and work , one alongside the other, for the greater good of all.

If only it were this easy for us to determine the activity which is THE activity today for the greater purpose of the Holy Spirit within us. I must remind us that the Christian Faith expresses that there are two spirits, one of destruction and one of life. The spirit alive in the world and that which is in control of this world is that of destruction. Because of the fallen nature of the world the spirit of destruction is the immediate spirit for each of us unless we learn to pursue the relationship with the Spirit of LIFE. We speak of the spirit of destruction as the deceiver, so much of what we hear from and learn from this voice is opposed to the full purpose which we are appointed to and are gifted for. I submit this is true even when we are at our best behavior in real community. I understand I may be taking on the giant of the religious tradition of my choice (Martin Luther) but I expect there is more to living the full life appointed to each of us than doing our best each day to be a good Christian.

All of this is to suggest that we, those who confess and declare a faith in the risen Christ and a dependence on the Holy Spirit of God for our daily guidance into or onto that path of His appointing, are woefully short of our potential by trying. It is not what or how or when we try, trying is not the issue. It is, hard as it is in reality, the learned skill of listening to and being willingly obedient to the voice of the Spirit of the Living God. Bound within that is the absolute certainty that we will make mistakes of discernment and step out in incorrect efforts, but still the goal is to learn to hear the voice of the Spirit.

The Voice alone is the single necessary ingredient for fulfillment of the purpose of daily life.

Gettin ready to BONK

In the Capitol Hill area of Seattle most of the homes are pre-WWII. Smaller in outside dimensions, two or three stories. Because of this many times the stairways are narrow, and steep. The house of Tim's youth, this house where I finally met him is of this construction. From the living room where I was sitting during my final wait only the last few feet of the stairs were visible as they descended along the wall opposite me and then at a small landing about 3 feet high where the room ended by the front door and the stairs turned to come straight towards me. I am not sure what I really expected Tim to look like but what ever my expectation was I could not have imagined what came into view.

I heard the sounds of the footsteps coming down but they were somehow different, some added sounds that I was not putting into a context. Never the less as I watched the first thing to come into view was the staff of a cane, OK, then another cane, hands attached to the canes and then a head, a head in front of a foot or a leg or a body? Next came the torso and already the head was laughing and saying hello offering all kinds of apologies for keeping me waiting, finally into view came the legs. My first view and introduction to Tim Hansel was of a man coming down a steep stairway bent 90 degrees at the waist and laughing. Physically, this is the only Tim Hansel I have ever known.

I just stood there, not sure of the correct position to take. Tim is just laughing and chatting and I am trying to process what I am seeing. I knew he was in great pain and I knew he was declining due to the cold and other issues, but I did not expect this. Finally reaching my position, I did not move an inch, I think, Tim said,'so good to finally meet you my friend, face to face or head to face' (this was more closely the case as this six foot man came maybe to mid-chest on me) and laughed again. He offered a tour of the house so like a child following after the Pied Piper, I followed. We stopped for a moment and he commented about his situation and the coming challenges. Through the dining area, through the kitchen, talking about some history and anything that came to mind.

At the back door he commented about a few books in the studio outside but decided it was too dark and too cold to go out. I would learn later that the few books were about 8000 copies of his book Through the Wilderness of Loneliness. Then a left turn and into the office area a few comments about some of the pictures and items and then "lets go down stairs" down stairs are you kidding, I just watched you come down stairs, I thought this rather than say it, but we did another floor down, tight steep old stairs down to another room full of books and this and that and all sort of memorabilia it was too much to take in and the furniture. He told me this was his favorite place, a large TV was the focus of the sitting. He also mentioned that it was getting more and more difficult to go down to this level. Of course he laughed again. We talked and talked about many things and then he said, I need to use the bathroom so we will need to go upstairs. OK I thought, so up he went, with me following, hands and canes and feet and body and head, one at a time up two flights, it made me tired. Once on the second floor Tim excused himself to go to the bathroom and said, make yourself at home, feel free to look around, this will take just a little time.

So I sat right outside the door near a book case, yes, full of books and waited, no Tim, so I waited, no Tim. I got up and walked around the adjoining rooms and again was stunned by the number of books, every floor, every nook and cranny, did he read all these? How many books were here? His sleeping area was full of books, this house was a museum, a library and a home all in one. I went back to the little space outside the bathroom. Then I heard it, unmistakable, snoring, Tim was in the bathroom and he was snoring. He was asleep. CRAP! Well, I walked around the house again and again. I visited the first floor and the basement floor, I looked at every picture and inspected all the different pieces of Tim's life. A definite Africa influence also.

I started back up the stairs to the top floor where Tim was and as I passed the front door I understood the situation I was in. The house is not in a great area of the city, the doors are dead-bolted from the inside, you need a key to enter or to lock from the outside. I had no key.

I had no way to leave the residence and insure any safety for Tim who, if I left, would be home alone in an unlocked house in a inner city area. I returned to the space outside the bathroom and sat down. My mind was in a regular thought pattern, what do I do, I can be here all night, I knew that Tim's sleep patterns were irregular at best . He had told me that sometimes his body just went to sleep. He would be awake at all hours and not sleep until his body went to sleep and then, it could be hours. I was not going to wake him, I was not going to leave the house, I was . . .TRAPPED . . . I just laughed, until a few hours ago I had never met this man, although I felt I knew him and now I was beginning to get a glimpse of what life around Tim Hansel was like in this season. Just a small insight into what it must be like to be there all the time. I thought of his laughter and his incredible outlook. His comments about Joy being a choice and all this became more real to me, I picked up a book and began to read. When you consider this man and what he has done and given, it really isn't much to ask you to sit and read for a few hours. I sat and read and Tim snored. As memories go, sitting in that alcove, next to the bathroom door, reading and listening to Tim snore will forever be etched in my mind . . .and then . . .BONK, THUD a loud groan, OHHHH, I called out Tim are you OK, he answered with a laugh and then he said 'boy that was a good one, flat on my face' (laugh again), I will be right out, how long was I asleep, hope you are alright Bud', me he was worried about me? Then Tim explains, 'sometimes when I fall asleep on the toilet I just fall off, most of the time I fall forward, this time I fell right on my head, this was a good BONK, another laugh 'what a way to meet a new friend we will not forget this, a real bonk'.

Upon his exit from the bathroom Tim mentioned that he was tired and needed to sleep. I assured him I understood and he led me down the stairs to the door, said how much he appreciated me coming to meet and talk with him and laughed about our great bonk story. I unlocked the door, and left as Tim was locking the door and returning to his room. If we have laughed once over this memorable meeting we have laughed 100 times. It was our signature understanding of life and friendship between Tim Hansel and Bud Potter. It sealed a bond of mutual respect and admiration. I did not know Tim as a young man, full of energy and excess of physical endurance and ability. I knew him only as a man of deep thought and admission of his own failings and his own understanding of God and life. A man whose body was a war zone of pain and incapacity. A man of profound Faith in the God of his life and purpose. Tim Hansel was my friend, he was my brother in Christ and in life. His life and his great heart are forever etched into my understanding of what it means to Go and Do Likewise.

Another mile of the journey, my new friend

Every story has a beginning and so too does this journey that became my time with Tim Hansel. A journey I equated with a ministry I believe I am called to which is Go and Do Likewise.

Actually 7 years before I ever met Tim the road to our friendship opened. It was my same friend who suggested in March of 1996 that we begin to do something more than sit in church, that we could touch the lives of people who needed help if we were just willing, so after a mere 9 months and much urging, I seriously thought there was a possibility he might be on track and then through my encounter with God called the 1997 Bowl Game between Florida and Florida State, it was evident that I needed to get "off the dime" and do something. Out of the pew and into the 'battle'. This is necessary for the story for without this experience I am not sure I would have ever learned some of what I believe to be the secrets of hearing and obeying God. Pretty heavy stuff, but elemental I think. Certainly important for my meeting Tim.

For the next seven years I was exposed to a continuing set of circumstance which built my confidence in three 'rules of obedience' if you will. These rules are; do not try to find a value I can except to determine if what I am faced with is of God. My own understanding is that I neither know what God is about or how he is about it, so, therefor, I have no measure or goal with which to say yes or no, the end result is 'take the first step; the second rule, if you will, is, if it is of God then you will find your self in a position to rely on faith alone, there will be doubt, without doubt there is no faith, so perseverance as faith is key to seeing the end God has for today and for the introduction of the next step; the third rule, if it is of God He will provide the resource to complete what He has begun, unfortunately you don't get this in advance and the result is, God allows you to see what He has done but the next step has the same rules and there will be a next step until you refuse or are summoned home. So here I am, treading this road of uncertainty, trying, seriously trying, to learn the simple steps of obedience, struggling in my own season of chaos and I am handed a book by this guy Tim Hansel, seven years into the journey that is Go and Do Likewise and this Hansel guy has like x-ray vision into my experience and into each step I had to learn the hard way. Why didn't I just get this book earlier God? Well most likely because I would have never paid attention before the journey, the lessons would have been ignored.

So after reading this book and sharing with my 'friend' my thoughts, this friend suggested I call Mr Hansel. According to my nature I hesitated and made excuse after excuse. Call someone just because you read a book and it has been an agent of impact for you? Sad to say it took about a month of urging before I took up the phone while driving a considerable distance across Los Angeles in mid summer of 2003 and called. "This is Tim" if you ever called him you recognize this greeting. It was not five minutes into the conversation and we had discovered several common links. Both from the Seattle area. Raised in neighborhoods which were most competitive in High School sports. One year a part in age and carrying some common memories of the late 1950's in Seattle. In one call of 45 minutes we covered the gamut of issues; personal, educational, spiritual and emotional. I called a stranger and disconnected the phone from a friend of significant meaning.

Tim and I continued to converse by phone for a few months each call probed more deeply into areas which were shared experience, some very personal some very painful. The conversation always contained much laughter and interaction from both sides. Tim shared his current situation in Seattle, his fears and concerns and I shared the personal turmoil of separation with close intimate relationships. What ever the subject the interactions were very positive and supportive, both ways. Over the course of a few months this man, Tim Hansel became a close and intimate personal friend. It may sound trite but truly we both felt we had known each other for most of our lives.

It was approaching Thanksgiving and when I decided to visit relatives in the Seattle area that I got the idea to meet Tim in person. It just seemed the thing to do, so I called him and told him I was coming to Seattle and would like to meet him, so we agreed that I would call him when I was in the city and we would arrange a time. I must admit my naivete as I had not met or had any visual contact with Tim however we had shared the ongoing pain and physical disabilities he was currently challenged with and the current status of my own pain and "emotional disability".

I arrived in Seattle on a Tuesday and while spending time with my brother and his family I called repeatedly to connect with Tim, each time there was no answer. I began to wonder if it was just not meant to be. Thanksgiving came and went, I was scheduled to return on Monday and still no Tim. Finally on Friday afternoon I called and the familiar "this is Tim" met my ears.

We chatted, he was in the middle of some physical therapy so we agreed to meet the next evening. He gave me address and directions, also instruction as his therapist would let me into the house at a certain time, I gave this no thought. I hurried out to rent a car and I must admit I was excited to meet this new friend. By that time I was well aware of his writings and his injury and much of his life both public and private. I experienced some of that peace that passes all understanding, it was good.

Saturday came and at the time agreed I sat in front of the house in the Capitol Hill area of Seattle where Tim had been raised and was currently living. I was impressed by the quietness of the streets for a Saturday evening. I was also reminded about the neighborhood environment as I looked at house after house with barred windows and steel Screen doors. I was reminded that this indeed was some of the inner city of Seattle. I crossed the street climbed the few stairs to the raised porch and knocked. No answer, knocked again, no answer. It was about the fourth or fifth knock that I heard a voice and the door was opened by a young man who was just finishing up Tim's therapy for the day. He showed me into the very neat living room and asked me to wait, saying it would be just a few minutes. Except for Tim, the therapist and myself the house was empty of people, only the three of us. I waited and waited and waited. I walked about the living room and the small dining room and looked at the pictures and the many articles of Tim's career. I was beginning to get some idea of the history of this man through the many pictures, items and artifacts. Still I waited. After some time the young therapist came back down the stairs and announced that Tim would be down in a few minutes, meanwhile I was to make myself at home. Then he turned, unlocked the door with the deadbolt, opened the metal screen, left the hose after instructing me to set the lock and shut the door. Dead bolted from the inside. secure. I waited and waited, this time I roamed the entire first floor, going through the office area and the kitchen and the hall at every step reading the plaques and the testimonies on pictures and noting for my own amazement the significance of many of those whose pictures I saw.

Then . . .hey Bud, you there? I answered that I was, "be right down". I waited, I was about to take the next step, to meet my new friend, to shake hands with this man who had grown in my own mind as I had read my way through his house.

My friend and a man I love, Tim Hansel

I simply must turn to this Blog more often as a way to share what is crossing my life at this stage in the journey. So here I take the time to remember my dear and beloved friend Tim Hansel. I begin at the end, on January 16, 2010 a group of people who had been impacted by Tim to varying degrees gathered in Carlsbad, California to say goodbye to their friend, colleague and in many cases mentor, Tim Hansel. Tim finally succumbed to the 35 yr assault on his body from the pain and aftermath of his well chronicled injury from a mountain climbing accident in 1974. Tim left us to be with his Heavenly Father on December 13, 2009. You can find much of his life easily through Google and from his memorial web site; www.timhanselmemorial.com. What you may not easily find is the giant heart of a man who loved his Lord with all his heart and all his soul and all his mind. Oh, it's there if you look but those of us who knew Tim intimately have witnessed the gift of Grace in the form of a man so humbled by injury and pain and yet so huge in his joy and his faith, that words and images fail to give the true depth of heart that was Tim. So for the next few days or weeks or however long it takes me I want to share my Tim Hansel story with you. I think of Tim as larger than life because he made me see life as larger than I had ever imagined. In my day by day goings on I will miss Tim, I will miss his laughter, his incredible gift of knowing exactly what to say and do to life me up. I will miss his love and his respect, Tim helped me to respect myself on a higher level than I had known before. But I will not miss Tim's affect on my life. It is implanted in my awareness. It will be with me until I join him in his final dance.

I first heard of Tim Hansel from a friend who told me I needed to read a book that Tim had written. Tim's book "Hole Sweat" was profound in my experience because it spoke of the reality I was then facing and continue to experience through the ministry of my passion; Go and Do Likewise. As I read the book, I kept saying, that's me, at each step in the process to become the gift you were created to be, I said; that's me. I am sure I must have nodded my head in agreement a hundred times each day as I read it. I knew the truth of what he wrote and the ease someone as myself finds in failing to stay the course. So . . .with the encouragement . . . no the nagging of my friend, I simply called Tim at his home in Seattle, where he was living to take care of his mother, and from that call the adventure began between Tim Hansel and Bud Potter. It started as life with Tim was, in uncertainty, laughter and chaos, which we called the BONK story. . .or 'the crash that started it all'

To be continued . . .