What do you regret in ministry?

I regret my years of acting with a complete lack of mercy, because I immaturely believed truth trumped mercy, and that God not spiritually gifting me with mercy was license to steamroll and brutalize all in the name “being honest”.

I regret my years and years of arrogance, particularly in my early years at Youth Specialties, where my sense that I was so special seduced me into cold-heartedness and dismissiveness with the very youth workers I was called to serve.

I regret every time I have gone on the warpath, calling out someone’s sinfulness or stubbornness or plain ol’ wrongness, only to find out that I had only heard half of the story. Particularly, even though it was years ago now, I regret calling a woman out on my blog (so stupid of me!), hurting her deeply, inaccurate in my assumptions about reality.

I regret rolling over and being the lap dog when my supervisor required me to lay off another employee who, while flawed like the rest of us, deserved better. And I regret that, in my soul numbness during those days, I didn’t do enough to truly celebrate or honor him.

I regret (ooh, this one is difficult to admit) all those times I subtly flirted with girls in my youth group, or played favorites with the teenagers I liked more (the ones who made me feel good about myself), or said something funny-but-hurtful to a teenager in order to get a laugh from others, or undermined parents, or made ministry all about me.

Argh. Really, I tend to be a chipper optimist who doesn’t live with much regret. But knowing I was going to write this post about regret, I thought it would be healthy to give a little heart and keyboard space to some ministry regrets. Those five paragraphs are what came out. Ack. Now I need a stiff drink, thank you very much.

Last year, I preached at my church on the subject of regret. Of course, the reality is: we all experience regret. Even God experiences regret (see Genesis 6:5-6). And since regret is a common experience, it makes sense that all of us youth workers will also have regrets about actions and inactions in our ministry lives.

There’s a funny tension here. Simply dismissing regret, which seems to be the pop-psychology soup du jour, is merely narcissism with a happy face. And it’s not, ultimately, helpful. Yet, being shackled by our regrets is a top goal of the evil one, since it’s the polar opposite of the life of freedom God made us for, and Christ saves us to.

So what should we do with our regrets?

First, I have to name them, with brutal honesty, and grieve the loss or hurt or pain or compromise they created. This is confessional stuff, and often requires asking for forgiveness. Paul writes, in 2 Corinthians 7, “Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret.” Ah, yes, confession and repentance lead to freedom.

But there’s often a mess to clean up, the natural consequences of our actions or inactions. Sweeping those under the proverbial rug causes the regrets to linger around, often for years. Don’t confuse this for penance; but the freedom lovingly given us by a God who could have designed things otherwise has a necessary antecedent: consequences.

Finally, the failures of action or inaction that lead us to regret provide us – with the right mindset – the best learning lab in life. Maybe you’re not like me; but I learn exponentially more from my failures than I do from my victories. Of course, this requires a choice on my part, to turn over the rock in my soul and stare at the scary, squiggly things that live there. If I can face these nasties, I have an opportunity to learn. And with the help of the Holy Spirit, I put myself in the stream of transformation.

God doesn’t want me to live a life of regret. But I can’t pretend they don’t exist. I have to face them square on, and push into and through them, to the freedom offered on the other side.

yesterday morning in church, a woman was sharing a stunning, vulnerable personal story; and in response to her trusting us (trusting me, since i was part of the audience) with her raw emotional honesty, i was moved. i mean: i felt. i choked up a little, and experienced a short visceral engagement. and in that, i noticed something.

i think i’ve been on spiritual auto-pilot for a month or so, all through lent and easter. funny thing is: i didn’t realize it until now.

i’ve been coasting. i’ve been moving through life, checking off to-do items (all of which i enjoyed, for the most part). i even had a 9 day vacation with my family, which had almost nothing to do with to-do items; but, in hindsight, i can see that all i did was throttle back, leaving the auto-pilot engaged.

my response at the moment isn’t guilt. i find that to be mostly useless, and new initiatives merely born out of a response to guilt are almost always nicely veneered legalism. instead, my response feels like: oops.

i engaged my spiritual auto-pilot seasonally when i was working in churches. in fact, i think these easter seasons were often a major time for the toggle switch to be tripped. my role was always frenetic, with the combination of whole-church expectations and youth ministry programs (i normally lead some sort of short term missions trip over spring break), and i have often found (maybe this is just my wiring) that during times of scheduled intensity, i don’t allow myself space for self-reflection, or presence and stillness, for emotional engagement.

funny thing is: in my world these days, spring break and easter are just the opposite of that historical busy-ness. my 6th grade guys small group had a two week break. my work, once spring break actually hit, was mostly put on hold (though my kids and i did finish writing a book over our time on vacation). i hardly ever used an alarm clock to wake up over the last two weeks. but i still fell into the auto-pilot pattern.

i know the party line for re-engagement. i taught it for years, back in the day. discipline. yup, ramp up the discipline to take steps toward vibrancy.

but as i’ve grown older, and more honest with myself, i know that’s not the answer for me. i don’t want to make a panacea declaration here, because for some, discipline might be exactly what’s called for. but for me, i’ve found that a steroid shot of discipline moves me into a hollow repetition. it treats my soul like just another item on my to-do list. and that, i’ve found, doesn’t take me where i really want to go, which is into the arms of jesus.

instead, the best way i’ve found to trip the fuse on the auto-pilot is to engage my emotions. it’s in my emotions that i find jesus waiting, patiently, saying, “yup, i’ve been here all along, waiting for the moment you would return.”

there’s a noticing that comes first, i suppose:

• noticing the beauty in the complexity or simplicity of a musical composition.
• stopping to take note of the verdant green bursting forth in my backyard, the amazing purple of the wisteria blossoms outside my office door, or the pink glory of the wall of bougainvillea on the path to our laundry room (a.k.a. ‘the garage’).
• hearing the thumping joy of experimentation passing easily through our walls as max (on drums) and his 8th grade bandmates (on guitar and bass) pound out a song they’re inventing.
• noticing the tiredness or pain or hope in the eyes of someone i’m meeting with.

but the noticing isn’t quite enough in and of itself. i have to choose to allow myself to feel something in the moment of noticing. and those feelings, that’s when things start to click. that’s when i start to feel vibrancy return, start to feel my soul wake up from it’s auto-pilot slumber.

does this make sense to anyone else? have any of you been almost crushed–or at least drained–by the expectations and pace of this past ministry season? is there something in the noticing and feeling that could reset your soul?

back in the day, i did these ‘monday morning update’ posts every single week. they included a little update on the past week and what was ahead, what book i was reading, what music i was digging. stuff like that. it gave me a chance to update stuff that didn’t deserve a whole post. i kinda miss that, even though i have no intention of bringing it back. but, at least today, i’ll try a “random order life and cartel update.” maybe it will become a semi-regular blog feature; maybe not.

- adam and i are having a blast with The Youth Cartel. we work fairly autonomously, but touch base pretty much every day via text, email and phone. we use online software (like google docs and dropbox) for all kinds of collaborative work. i totally trust him, and am stoked by how “he completes me.” yes, i wrote that.

- that said: we’re growing so quickly, i’m concerned about our sustainability. we don’t have any margin right now, and we’re going to have to make some tough choices this year about risk.

- i’m planning on launching the 2012 plans for the youth ministry coaching program in the next week or two. the four cohorts (of 10 youth workers each) i’m currently leading are the highlights of my working life. plans are set for new cohorts starting this fall in san diego and nashville, plus the possibility of cohorts i would co-lead (i’d be at 2 of the 6 meetings) in either atlanta or denver, plus one in greenwich/NYC, and one in vancouver/calgary. i’m also in discussion with 3 denominational groups (1 national, 2 regional) about closed cohorts for their tribe (2 of my current cohorts are this model).

- i’m so over-the-top excited about an announcement i’m going to make in the next couple weeks about who’s coming to the middle school ministry campference. sorry to tease.

- a couple weeks ago, in response to someone’s silly suggestion, my beard got it’s own twitter feed and facebook page. so far, the twitter feed is beating the facebook page in likes/follows, 47 to 33.

- an old photo of jeannie and i somehow made it onto the fail blog this week. so random. it was from the 2006 ys staff christmas party. we had a prom theme, and costume competition. jeannie and i came as protestors, based on the protestors we’d had at the nywc that fall. but — hey — getting on the fail blog is, like, bucket list stuff for me!

- adam and i have made some “it’s time, let’s do this” decisions in the last few weeks about The Youth Cartel publishing. we want to provide resources that others wouldn’t provide, by authors others wouldn’t consider, in ways that others wouldn’t provide them. the Extended Adolescence Symposium Ebook was us dipping our toes in the water, and adam and jon huckins’ Good News In the Neighborhood is a more serious swing of the bat. but the other day i sent out contracts to 6 authors for books i hope you’ll see from us in the next 6 months. this doesn’t mean i’m not going to write for other publishers. The Youth Cartel is passionate about being very open-handed and non-exclusive. i have my first book coming out with SYM in less than 2 months, and 6 more (2 of which are written, 4 of which aren’t) over the next 9 or 10 months. i’m stoked about The Way bible i developed with tyndale (seriously, have you seen it!?), and about my last book with zondervan, Understanding Your Young Teen.

- my family and i leave today on a 9 day vacation. we’re heading up to washington state (3 cheers for airline miles!), where we’ll hang with family friends for half our time, and just our family the rest of the time. we’ll be in a timeshare condo on lake chelan, in the middle of the state. it’s a bit of a bittersweet vacation in this way: family vacations have been a really, really big deal to us, and this might our last one. liesl graduates in june, and heads off to her job at a summer camp the next day. she’ll be home for a couple weeks at the end of the summer before heading to england, scotland, and india, for a 9 month gap year (volunteering in various capacities). when she returns next year, she’ll be heading to university of redlands. so, this is it! this vacation must rock!

- i had a blast yesterday with my fellow middle school ministry volunteer (at journey community church) dan coronado (i’ve always thought his name sounded like a fake hollywood name; like, the name of a cop from a 70s tv show). dan is a brilliant professional photographer and videographer. i asked dan if we could have lunch to get caught up, and if he would shoot a new headshot for me. i was starting to find that people were constantly commenting about how i didn’t look anything like my current promo shots. dan took a ton of ‘em (he’s so good, it’s fascinating to watch him at work), but here are two of the early samples he sent me:

i launched a new initiative via my blog some time ago, something i was extremely proud of and excited about. within a few minutes, i received my first comment. it was from and old college buddy, who i’ve loosely stayed in contact with thanks to our digital world.

his comment was negative and dismissive, along the lines of, “this is a bad name, and i hope, for your sake, it’s not too late to change it.” his terse little comment, on the public space of my blog, rattled me and left me on edge all day long.

i’m not a newcomer to criticism – including both the well-meaning kind and the mean-spirited kind. in fact, there’s even a website or two that have called me out as a heretic! and i receive plenty of negative comments on my blog, and in real life. but there was something about a comment this strong from a friend that really threw me off balance and filled me with anxiety.

i told my patient and calm wife about the comment, making it clear that my friend was being an idiot. she responded, in that gentle spiritual director voice of hers, “you like to think of yourself as thick-skinned; but you’re really very sensitive, and you can have very thin skin sometimes.” she smiled.

my first response was defensiveness. i knew better than to verbalize this (i knew i’d “lose”); but i thought about how wrong she was, and what a complete tool the guy was being.

but, reality slowly sunk in. ok. i’ll admit it – even to myself: i am sometimes caught off guard by my insecurity. i come off as this over-the-top confident guy; and, most days, most minutes, i do experience a sense of drive and purpose that provides confidence rails to run on. but there’s this fragile guy in there also, cowering in a corner when Mr. Confidence has the stage.

this whole thing is such a tension for those of us in ministry (or any kind of leadership, i suppose). confidence misplaced is arrogance and a complete lack of dependence on god. we’ve all seen that kind of leader. nope, don’t want to be that guy.

but the ragingly insecure leader, whose every word and action is colored by his or her lack of confidence is equally undesirable. i’ve been around those leaders plenty, and i can’t trust them. i never know if what they’re saying is actually true.

so this must be one of those tensions to be nurtured, rather than problems to be solved. i need to bring my insecurity to god, as well as my confidence. i have to cultivate dependence and assurance.

and i have to notice, rather than react. if i can give myself a fraction of the grace god flows my way, maybe i can pay attention to my extremes and submit both of them for transformation and growth. at the end of the day, maybe my “thin-skinned” moments can remind me of my humanity. i am not the messiah. that role has already been taken.

in 1986, when jeannie and i were newlyweds and both students at wheaton college, we decided to start attending and volunteering in the youth ministry at first baptist church of wheaton. i distinctly remember two things about our first sunday there: 1. the senior pastor announced his own resignation, and 2. a guy named rolly was the interim worship leader; and right in the middle of a hymn he was leading us through, he whipped out a trumpet from inside the pulpit and played a bridge. yup, it was memorable.

very quickly in the weeks and months that followed, and particularly as i became the junior high pastor, the richert family became part of our lives. sandy (rolly’s first wife, who died several years ago) was a key leader in the high school ministry. lesa, rolly and sandy’s daughter (now a mom with five kids!) was in my junior high group. ryan, rolly and sandy’s son, was still in elementary school. my primary interaction with rolly was as the father of one of the kids in my group. but i knew he was in some kind of youth ministry leadership, and he soon became a mentor, encourager, father figure, and friend. really, rolly and sandy “parented” (in a very healthy way) me and jeannie.

he understood why i struggled to stay in that part-time role, and was my primary reference for the full-time junior high pastor role i moved to in omaha (the senior pastor at my church here in san diego, who was, coincidentally, the student ministries pastor who hired me in omaha, would still say that rolly’s reference was a big part of why i got the job).

a year after i moved to omaha, in 1990, rolly called and asked me to be a part of the team that would create a junior high track for DCLA (the national student evangelism event led by rolly, and hosted by youth for christ). that role — eventually giving leadership to the junior high track — became a significant part of my life for a decade, and gave me and my family dozens of opportunities to spend time with rolly.

during that decade, rolly moved back to detroit (where he had previously lived, but before i knew him). in a great “it’s a small world after all” detail, rolly’s family moved into my home town, and started attending the church i grew up in. his kids graduated from the same high school as me. since my family was still there, i often spent time with rolly on my trips to detroit, and he continued to be a significant mentoring voice in my life.

when i moved to california in the early 90s, rolly’s daughter lesa came out and spent a summer as an intern with me. and how amazing it was when, after a few years at youth specialties, tic long hired rolly to play a significant role directing the ‘big room’ at all the national youth workers conventions. this resulted in a half dozen times per year when i got to spend time in the presence of rolly’s wisdom, big heart, thoughtfulness, playfulness, and always-obvious love for jesus.

tic and i, and a handful of ys staff, flew to detroit for the funeral of rolly’s amazing first wife, sandy; and i was thrilled to have the opportunity to attend the joyous wedding, in rolly’s backyard, to his lovely second wife, barb.

rolly wasn’t just a guy whose story has interwoven with mine for 25 years: i would not be where i am, or be the person i am, were it not for rolly. he spoke into my life, opened doors for me, believed in me, and modeled a hundred lessons for me in leadership, grace, humility, and how to be an amazing husband and father (in fact, i often find myself thinking “what would rolly do?” in my parenting).

after significant health struggles over a couple years, rolly’s body gave out this past week, and he’s currently in the presence of jesus. the memorial service is this wednesday, in detroit (at my home church). there’s so much of me that wants to be there. but i was wrestling with the decision in light of how much i’ve been traveling and away from my family; and i asked myself what rolly would say to me. i could literally picture his smiling face, completely and always lacking in pretense or hidden agenda, telling me to stay home with my family. my story loses something with rolly’s absence; but the mark he left on my life (and, through me, on the lives of others) is indelible.

looking at my travel schedule over the next few months, i have a handful of days or evenings where i’ll be stuck in a particular city in-between other engagements. that means, if you’d like me to:
- speak for your youth group or event
- lead a parent training event
- lead some youth ministry training
- provide some consulting, or a bit of custom coaching
i’m available without you needing to pay travel costs.

here’s the list:

sunday morning and afternoon, february 12, in chicago, il

thursday, march 8, in san antonio, tx

friday, march 9, in vancouver, bc

saturday evening, march 17, in detroit, mi

sunday, march 18, in detroit, mi

friday evening, april 20, in atlanta, ga

saturday evening, april 21, in either atlanta, ga, or nashville, tn

sunday morning, april 22, in either atlanta, ga, or nashville, tn

sunday afternoon or evening, april 22, in nashville, tn

wednesday evening, april 25, in nashville, tn

sunday, may 6, in detroit, mi

if you’d like to connect about the possibility of me helping you, please shoot me an email at marko@theyouthcartel.com

my latest book, understanding your young teen: practical wisdom for parents, is officially available! i’m stoked. it’s my first book written for parents, and covers a wide variety of developmental issues about middle schoolers, as well as practical implications for parenting.

here’s the official description:

Between the ages of 11-14, adolescents experience one of the most significant periods of change they’ll face during their lifetimes—physically, mentally, emotionally, relationally and spiritually. Mothers and fathers of young teens are presented with new challenges in understanding, communicating with and parenting their kids during this time in their lives. Understanding Your Young Teen offers insights on early adolescent development, new research and cultural changes, and practical applications for parenting and living with young teens. Mark Oestreicher has worked with young teens for nearly three decades, and is also the parent of two teenagers. Based on his research and experience, this book is presented to parents of young teens as a conversation from one parent to another. With transparency about his own experience parenting, and examples from his extensive involvement with thousands of other young teens and parents, Understanding Your Young Teen dives into the developmental realities of early adolescence. Oestreicher educates parents on the latest research and cultural shifts that affect their children, revealing opportunities for faith formation in the lives of young teens.

we’re selling it at a discount on the youth cartel store. if you want to buy a bunch of ‘em for parents in your ministry, let me know, and we’ll see about doing something special for you (like, a note for your parents, or me skyping into a parent meeting, or maybe even special pricing). i spoke to a group of 50 parents at bay presbyterian church in bay village, ohio, on the content of the book, last weekend. had a great time with them.

here’s the full cover (you can click on it to see it larger)…

last year, when i visited haiti two times, i mentioned the son of god orphanage over and over again. i posted photos, told stories, and rallied people. i brought my church’s senior pastor to haiti, and we established a church to church partnership that has, over the last 15 months, flourished in beautiful ways, including hundreds people from our church visiting the son of god orphanage, and a wide variety of help being provided.

i connected with a boy named jean-michelle there on one of my trips (this photo is of me and him), and keep his little signature taped to the wall in front of my desk. he gave it to me and asked, “please remember me.” it makes me ill to wonder whether jean-michelle is still there or has been sold off (or killed off, or abused) in the year since i’ve seen him.

so, i’ve been so sad over the last few months to have suspicions raised about mistreatment and trafficking. now, the proof has been documented. and six organizations — my church among them — are lobbying various haitian and american governmental agencies, as well as cnn and some other organizations, to shut this orphanage down quickly, before the remaining children are sold or abused in some other way. as the press release below states, there is strong reason to suspect that the haitian governmental department responsible for oversight in this area is complicit in the problem, which great complicates it.

here’s the press release that was issued yesterday:

After continued visits to the Son of God Orphanage in Carrefour, Haiti, six charitable organizations (Adventures in Missions, Bridgeway Church, Timberline Church, Children’s HopeChest, Journey Community Church, and Respire Haiti) have challenged the global community to force the hands of international leaders in the closure and investigation of the facility.

According to eye-witness accounts, the children at SOG have suffered some of the most heinous human rights abuses at the hands of the director of the orphanage, Maccene (Max) Hyppolite and his family.

Despite consistent delivery of relief for each child, including food, clothes, and medicine, the children have continued to suffer from malnourishment, curable diseases and parasites, as well as complete neglect of acute medical conditions.

A recent account included a one-year old baby who was severely burned and not treated until almost two weeks later.

Police conducted a successful sting operation after numerous individuals had been solicited by Hyppolite to purchase children. In July of 2011, Max Hyppolite was arrested while attempting to sell one of the orphans and he is currently in prison for child trafficking in Port au Prince.

Continued accounts from as recent as October 13th, 2011 indicate that the situation has only become worse, and to date there are 53 children who have disappeared and are unaccounted for.

The orphanage is currently being run by Hyppolite’s wife, Mary, who not only continues to say she does not know the whereabouts of the children, but has also threatened the lives of the relief workers who have sought assistance in from the Haitian government organization, IBESR (Institut du Bien Etre et de Recherches).

Given the sharing of information from IBESR to the Hyppolite family, cause for speculation has arisen regarding the government’s involvement in the trafficking of the children.

The six aforementioned organizations have worked together with Change.org to bring this issue to light. They have asked the global community to give these children the voice that has been stolen from them in hopes of world leaders recognizing the human rights violations occurring and the immediate call for the closure and investigation of the Son of God Orphanage in Haiti.

would you please help in this tiny, simple, but powerful way? would you please click though on these two petitions, and sign them both? please: close to 2000 people read this blog every day. if each of you would take 2 minutes (literally) to do this, you could play a role in saving the lives of these precious children in haiti.

Sign the original petition urging CNN to expose abuse & trafficking at Son of God Orphanage in Carrefour, Haiti
Sign the follow-up petition calling on Haitian President Michel Martelly and global leaders to close Son of God Orphanage and order an immediate investigation of the IBESR

everyone has their 9/11 story. i’ve decided to write mine out, so i remember it. there are many reasons i want to remember it, as you’ll see.

the spanish division of youth specialties, called especialidades juveniles, had been holding an amazing youth workers convention in argentina for a few years already. but in 2001, my wife attended with me. my parents traveled from michigan to san diego to stay with our young children. jeannie and i added a short-but-wonderful trip on the front end to visit iguazu fall, on the border of argentina, paraguay and brazil. other than our time at iguazu, mike yaconelli was with us also, and that trip is one of my fondest memories of time spent with him. jeannie, mike and i had a blast in buenos aires, eating bife de chorizo steaks the size of a prizefighter’s fist, making daily trips to our favorite cigar lounge, and spending wonderful time with the youth workers of central and south america.

we flew home, overnight, on september 10 and 11.

after an all-night flight, we landed in chicago. in that strange space of being tired and wired at the same time, looking forward to seeing our kids, we cleared customs and boarded our flight to san diego early in the morning. about 20 minutes into the flight, the plane made a noticeable 180-degree turn, bringing all of us to our first of dozens of alerts. the pilot said we were being sent back to chicago, but he didn’t know why. groans and complaints all around. it was the concerned look on the face of the flight attendant, however, that really caught my attention. she was standing nearby, and in her nervousness, started chatting (probably more than she should have) with one or two passengers. “in all my years of flying, i’ve never had this happen without an explanation.”

fifteen minutes later, we banked right, heading south. the pilot said we were being re-routed to st. louis. st. louis? then he told us something that caused emotional pandemonium: “all air traffic in the country is being grounded immediately.”

if this happened today, we would all instantly know it was related to terrorism. but we had no reference for this kind of terrorism. it wasn’t a concept in our lexicon of potential explanations. even, just as we landed, when a passenger turned on his cell phone and announced the news that there was something about a plane and one of the world trade center towers (the first tower), no one even mentioned terrorism — it just wasn’t on our radar, so to speak. theories abounded, the flight attendant grew increasingly jittery, and everyone grumbled about the inconvenience and how we were all going to get out of st. louis.

as we were grabbing our things to leave the plane, we got just enough information to formulate a very fuzzy understanding of what was going on; and it was clear we were not going to be leaving st. louis on the next flight home. we stumbled into the concourse, trying to figure out what to do next. walking down the concourse, we stood nearby a bar with televisions playing the news (i notice this bar, and these televisions, every time i pass through the st. louis airport). while standing there, we watched the live footage of the plane flying into the second tower. i remember that, after a collective gasp, the entire airport went momentarily silent, as everyone tried to make some sense of what was happening. an announcement came over the p.a. saying that the airport would be closing.

we realized we had to find a place to stay, and that it would be tricky with so many people doing the same. jeannie and mike went to get our luggage while i scrambled to find a hotel. i didn’t travel with my cell phone on international trips at that time, and mike’s cell phone was useless, but i found one of those banks of phones with ads for hotels above them. i called many and was told they were already sold out. eventually, i found us two rooms at a big casino hotel on the river.

fast forward: we spent 5 days in st. louis. for much of it, we were glued to the tv, either in one of our rooms, or somewhere else in the hotel. the sports bar has a massive multi-panel tv, and it was constantly on cnn. for the remainder of that first day, the casino was empty (though the incessant ding-ding-ding of slot machines continued to call out their ‘notice me’ clarion). we vacillated between nervousness, horror, and sheer boredom, with tiny bits of the enjoyment of being in this together thrown in. i’m sure it sounds strange, but i look back on those days with a bit of fondness, because it was time spent with yac. jeannie and i were relieved that my parents were with our kids.

of course, we were trying to figure out how to get home, and the story from the airlines was changing by the hour. one of us was on hold with the airline multiple times throughout each day. at about day 4, we started talking about renting a car and driving all the way from st. louis to san diego. my dad, who had pressing issues to get back to at work, flew home to detroit, and my mom was alone with our kids. we were sick of waiting, and not getting anywhere with the airline.

on the 5th day, we made a car rental reservation, checked out of our hotel, and took the casino shuttle back to the airport, where we planned on catching the car rental shuttle and start our long drive home. but, while waiting for the car rental shuttle, we decided to go inside the airport and check flights one more time. and, while our airline was still a mess, a gracious agent was able to get us on a partner airline leaving soon.

we were home that night.

on the way to the airport yesterday morning, i noticed a large collection of inflatable attractions in the parking lot of a mall. one of them was a giant inflatable slide in the shape of a sinking titanic, its propellers up in the air, its bow, by inference, below the parking lot surface. what is it, i wondered, that allows that, while the events of 9/11 still bring such an emotional response? is it only time? is it that 9/11 happened to us?

why do i not feel the same kind of emotion for travesties — man-made and otherwise — around the world in the last decade? i can only conclude that it’s because i had a personal, emotional experience of 9/11.

i was only inconvenienced by 9/11. others, of course, experienced life-altering loss. either way, there’s no denying that the world — my world — has changed since that day.

i’ve been hankering for a new tattoo (my 5th) for some time now. i had this idea of getting my wife and kids’ initials inked, in some sort of interlocking monogram style.

so, while jeannie and i were in hawaii a few weeks ago, celebrating our 25th anniversary, it seemed like a good reference point to get it done. i got a recommendation from a local, met with the artist and told him what i was thinking, and he drew it up. in old school tattooing letters, that’s a J (for jeannie), M (for max), and L (for liesl). each letter is filled with the favorite color of that person. i’m really happy with how it turned out, and that it’s in a place where i can see it everyday, reminding me of my priorities and my love for my family.