One of the guys I used to work with was a big believer in dream interpretation. He was convinced that the objects and happenings in our dreams were metaphors for real events going on in our lives. Whenever someone would have a weird dream, he would drag out this dream interpretation paperback that listed what things meant and psychoanalyze our lives. Of course, we started messing with him after we saw how serious he was about it, so he got to where he wouldn’t even discuss dreams. All of this came back to me recently as I began wondering about the implications of recent dream.

In this dream, I was stuck in some poorly made horror movie. There were several people I knew in the dream and we were in a big crowd scene. Each person in the crowd had an opposing villain that was attempting to torment their prey. My villain was a sinister clown-type guy with a bunch of little marbles on strings. I’m not really sure of the intended purpose of this device and I don’t remember being particularly afraid of the device during the dream. However, I recognized this fellow was a bad guy and likely had extremely sinister plans for his undefined device. While attempting to find something to defend myself with, I found pool ball in my pocket and threw at him. Surprisingly, he seemed terrified of my newly discovered weapon and even more surprisingly, I found an endless supply of pool balls in my pocket. Every time I stuck my hand in my pocket, a pool ball was ready for the taking. So, I ran after my antagonist, chucking pool balls and rallying my friends to do the same. We soon turned the tide on the villains and began to pursue them. During this pursuit, I became aware that Gary and Jake had joined with me in a sort of “let’s get ‘em boys” sort of way. At that point, I realized something astounding was about to happen because the music in the movie had morphed into the sort of triumphal, heroic melody you often hear in poorly made movies. The villains were climbing up on some kind of a loading dock and I realized this was the point in the movie where I saved the day. I reached into my pocket and retrieved the decisive pool ball. I could tell by the way this particular ball felt in my hand that I held an object capable of changing the course of the universe. The stars were aligned and the villains were arrayed on the loading dock in such a fashion that this one pool ball would bring their demise. As I began my throwing motion, I realized that I was unable to raise my arm. At first I thought some evil force might be restraining me, but I came to the realization it was simply because Jake was standing too close and I didn’t have room to raise my arm. As a result, the villains escaped and were able to regroup, as villains are often fond of doing. Luckily, Jake and I were able to make our escape when we flagged down my parents as they drove by. Feeling relieved at being out of this sinister location, I was soon horrified to look back and see we were being pursued by a maniac on a motorcycle. We got stuck in traffic, which worked to the advantage of the maniac on the motorcycle since he was able to zig and zag through traffic. As he drew near, Mom started unlocking the car doors in case we needed to escape. I keep re-locking the doors while trying to explain the benefits of locked doors, i.e., keeping the maniac outside the vehicle. We were finally able pull out of traffic onto a country road and began to speed away with the maniac in pursuit. I noticed Pop was swerving all over the road and when I looked forward, he was messing with the overhead console. When I questioned him about the unnecessary messing and swerving, he stated he was trying to cancel his On Star service since he didn’t really need it. I questioned the validity of his decision, to which he responded with a challenge to name one reason to keep the service. I screamed, “Because there is a maniac on a motorcycle chasing us and it would be nice to be able to contact someone to say, ‘Help! There’s a maniac on a motorcycle chasing us!’ “

That’s all I remember from the dream unfortunately. No epic battle. No conquering hero. Just a trailing off into nothingness as the maniac on a motorcycle drew nearer. So, any of you amateur psychologists want to take a crack at interpreting this dream for me?

David Arthur has been posting mystery photos on Facebook to see if we can figure out the subject matter. His photos are cropped to a size that doesn’t fully show the entire subject or taken from an angle that makes the subject look unusual. I really like his mystery photos because they make you think. Here’s my own version of David’s mystery photo puzzler:

For one thing, it’s easy to see I’m not as photographically skilled as David. He’s got serious skills plus a lot of good equipment. I’m just a point-and-shoot guy with a beat-up pocket camera. As a result, it probably didn’t take most folks long to see that it was the outside of a stained glass window. The shapes are all visible, but the image is reversed and the colors are all muted. It’s not really much of a puzzler, but would anything make you take notice of that window if you were walking past? Would anything about it reach out to you and make you think about God’s love or grace? Here’s a different view:

The view from the inside is spectacular. The light reveals the colors of the glass and brings life to the image. The mind immediately begins to look for the meaning of the haloed figure bowing at the center…the pitcher and bowl…the cross. There are so many details that just aren’t visible from the outside. The only difference is the lighting. The beauty and color are always there, but folks can only see it if the light shines through. This is a great analogy for our lives. Sometimes we let people see the beautiful details and other times all they see are muted colors and vague shapes. Which side of the window are we showing the world?

We went to visitation at the funeral home last night for one of our neighbors. Out on our road, lots of folks have lived at the same place for lots of years and a good number of them are related. That means folks know each other and care about each other. We saw it in action when our house flooded and they came out in force to help us. My point is that a funeral home viewing means a good number of folks from our neighborhood will be there. I chatted with our neighbor Marsha about what was going on with our families and all the rain we’ve been getting. As we finished our conversation, I told her it was good to talk to her instead of just waving as we pass. We agreed that life keeps us too busy to think about stopping to catch up with a neighbor. We’re always running to the bank before it closes or some other thing that seems important. That’s a real shame because life is too short to just be busy and neighbors are too important to drive by and just wave.

I’m in DC this week and had to stay in “DC proper” instead of Arlington due to a lack of availability at the hotels where I normally stay. I got back to my hotel in time to do some walking around tonight before it got late. I walked down to the White House and sat on a park bench across the street to watch for a while.

I saw a woman change from her flip-flops to leopard print high heels before having her picture taken in front of White House. I’m sure it was important to her, but it seemed rather silly to me. Will anyone really notice her shoes when she shows off those pictures?

I thought I saw Barney Frank talking to a film crew, but I don’t believe it was really him. The guy did look an awfully lot like him, just not as old and gray. Then I wondered: was that just a coincidence or does this guy intentionally try to look like Barney Frank? It would take a truly weird person to want to look like an eccentric character like Frank, but DC is full of truly weird people.

Two guys in ankle-length oilskin coats, Indiana Jones hats, and huge walking sticks (probably four inch diameter and seven feet long) walked up to peer through the fence. They looked like they had just walked out of the Outback…the continent, not the restaurant.

Of course there were lots of tourists. Some were stereotypical like the huge group of Asians that I originally thought was a protest march. Others were more unusual like the group of wheelchair-bound folks in white shirts and bright red caps, each being pushed by a person wearing a white shirt and bright red cap. Mostly though, it was just regular folks who wanted to take a look at the White House. It was one of these families that really made me appreciate being there. Their two children were bickering as they sat at the base of the White House fence. They were behaving like regular kids right in front of the residence of the President of the United States where decisions about the course of world events are being formulated. We live in a pretty stinkin’ cool country.

Hiatus: \hī-ˈā-təs\ Function: noun, Etymology: Latin, from hiare to yawn, 1a: an interruption in time or continuity: break; especially: a period when something (as a program or activity) is suspended or interrupted

I have taken an unintentional hiatus from blogging this summer. The busy start to the summer caught me off guard and the summer was half gone before I realized I hadn’t taken the time to share any of my thoughts. It’s not that I wasn’t thinking all summer. God led me to some important things this summer. Here’s the most important lesson I think God showed me this summer…

This is kind of difficult for me to share because it highlights part of my personality I like to pretend doesn’t exist. I want everyone to see the nice, smiling Curt and keep Curt the idiot boy in the shadows. At a youth event this summer, there was a kid who was a real pain. You could say his annoyance capacity was unbounded. He also had some peculiarities that made him an easy target, so I joined right in when it came to making fun of him. Circumstances led me spend a little time one-on-one with him and he told me about his life. His dad died of a drug overdose, his mom doesn’t pay attention to him, and his stepdad is emotionally abusive. After sitting with him for just a few minutes, I realized his life was pretty crappy and I wasn’t loving him like God was calling me to love him. Afterwards, I got mad at myself for being so self-focused and wrote this prayer:

“Why does life have to suck so bad sometimes? It’s so unfair and on top of it I’m a coldhearted jerk to the people who need me. Lord, help me get past myself and my need to be funny all the time. Save me from myself. Help me see people like you see people. Help me love people like you love people.”

I wrote it out so I could keep a record of Curt being a self-absorbed idiot. I keep this prayer close so I have to look at it occasionally, with the hope that it keeps me humble. Save me from myself, Lord.

I’m pulling the plug on myspace Curt. He really never caused any problems, never complained of neglect, never uttered a word of protest. That’s mostly because he just stood in the corner unnoticed. So, I’m not killing him off because he was doing bad things, but because he never did many good things. He ignored friend requests, didn’t return happy messages, and took no notice at all of birthdays. In all honesty, he was pretty much all of my negative characteristics distilled into a tiny online presence. I’ve grown tired of him, so I’m giving him up in exchange for more time for face-to-face conversations and laughing with friends. So, goodbye to my ignored myspace friends… And you better be watching yourself there, Facebook Curt. I don’t like your attitude some days. You may be next.

Gary, Matthew, Lester, and I started throwing around the idea of starting the SMBC College Week last spring. We discussed it with the Board of Directors and got the approval to proceed with it this summer. This may seem like a minor switch, but it’s been much, much more than that for me. You see, I’m a recovering control freak. I don’t mind change as long as it’s well planned and controlled. The new College Week we’re planning makes my head feel all higgledy-piggledy. (In case you’re not familiar with that phrase, it means out-of-control thoughts leading to sleepless nights…and you should read more Winnie the Pooh…) For eleven years we’ve been perfecting the Intermediate Week with successive waves of 4-8th graders. I’ve gotten into a comfortable pattern, pretty much knowing what has to be done and when it needs to be finished. Now we’ve thrown all that out the window to start something from scratch. It’s not just a new adventure for our camp. We’ve not run across anyone that runs a full week of camp focused on college-age folks. Therefore, we don’t have anyone to steal ideas from. Some of my best ideas have been stolen from others. I’m not even sure I’m capable of generating ideas of my own. What if our plans turn out to be dumb and college kids think we’re just stupid? What if no one shows up for the week of camp? What if everyone shows up for the week of camp?!? Can you see what my mind has been doing to me?

So, why in the world are we doing this? In all honesty, because I feel like God is calling us to this adventure. We’ve prayed about it for over a year, asking God to lead us where He wants to go and make His will obvious to us. During that time, it’s become increasingly apparent that God is shoving us toward an age group that is being “under served” and sometimes outright ignored by our churches. He’s softening our hearts to an age group that sees a lot of folks drift away from Him. I see lots of opportunity for God to display His work in ways I’ve never experienced. That’s exciting. I mean I literally get goosebumps sometimes when I think about it. That’s what keeps me going. That’s what gets me through the sleepless times when I don’t know the answers. It’s because I serve a God that has all the answers and promises to do more that I can even hope to imagine (Eph 3:20). That’s something I want to be part of. I hope you will too.

After two weeks on the road, it’s good to be home. The last two weeks wore me out. People make fun of me when I say that sitting in meetings all day will make you tired, but it’s true. If you really want to know what it’s like, here’s what I suggest:

1. Find the most uncomfortable chair in your house and place it off center from your TV. Your viewing angle should be steep enough that you subconsciously lean over in an effort to improve your view.

2. Invite six friends to join you in watching eight hours of the most boring infomercials you can find on TV. Discuss and critique each performer’s believability, enunciation, and hairdo.

3. Only take potty breaks every one and a half to two hours. If you find that you really have to go really bad, wait for three hours to take your break.

4. Serve snacks that are high in sugar content to encourage a momentary rush of energy followed by long periods of drowsiness. When you start feeling drowsy, turn your TV to the programming channel and read about the PBS shows coming on later in the day.

5. Take turns predicting the future. Let each person in the room tell what they believe the world will be like in five, ten, and twenty years. As each person shares their point of view, everyone else should point out the flaws in their logic. Encourage arguments about the effects of obscure technical issues outside the control of mankind, such as sunspots or near-earth orbit.

6. Ensure someone’s cell phone rings every ten to fifteen minutes. The only acceptable ringtones shall be “It’s a Grand Old Flag,” “The Charleston,” or “Hamster Dance.” The person receiving the call should stand and proceed slowly to the next room before answering. Answering the phone while seated is not socially acceptable unless it is from a family member and you are willing to carry on the conversation at normal speaking volume.

On second thought, just volunteer for jury duty. It’s the closest thing I’ve found yet.

I’m traveling again this week and experienced a rough start to my trip. I had to fly on Sunday and I hate flying on Sunday. The biggest reason is that I don’t like to spend any time on the weekend working and away from family. The other reason is that the flight schedules are reduced on the weekend, so you have fewer options for recovery. When my flight was delayed Sunday due to the storms, I ran out of options and ended up spending the night in Indianapolis so I could fly out early Monday morning. The early morning flight was delayed to the point of morphing into a mid-morning flight, which means I missed my connecting flight. I was rebooked on a lunchtime flight on the standby list, but didn’t make the cut. I finally made a suppertime flight and got to my hotel about bedtime. The hours I spent lounging about the Washington Dulles airport were maddening, but I managed to keep myself occupied. As my friend Lisa says, “The truly intelligent entertain themselves.” I’m not sure if I want to label myself as truly intelligent, but here are some of the things that entertained me throughout the day.

#1: Food. Airport restaurants have a captive clientele. Their limited selection and high prices usually have me wandering around looking for the perfect balance of quality, quantity, and price. As a result, I enjoyed a Wendy’s Baconator for breakfast at 9:00 am. I figured the 830 calories and 51 grams of fat would stick to my ribs and keep me feeling hungry for a good while. In reality, it left me feeling greasy and a bit bloated. I held off eating until grabbing a bag of pretzels and a juice just before my evening flight. The pretzels and juice ended up costing about two dollars more than my breakfast Baconator combo, which offends my sensibility. How in the world can a few ounces of pretzels and a bottle of juice cost more than a half pound of meat, a wad of fries, and a Dr. Pepper?

#2: Payphones. It’s rare to see a pay phone these days, but there are banks and banks of payphones in the Dulles airport. Being that it’s in Washington DC, I’m guessing it’s because some Congressman’s brother owns the company. I didn’t see anyone actually using a payphone, but I did see a lot of kids playing with them. I remember back in the good old days prior to cell phones how we would sprint off the plane and grab a payphone to check our phone messages. We used calling cards to make calls so we didn’t have to carry around a pocketful of change. To check my messages on my work phone, I dialed the 800 number for the phone card, entered my fourteen digit security number, dialed the voice mail number, and finally entered my nine digit mailbox and password. That’s a total of thirty-four numbers I had to remember to retrieve a voice message. Yep, things were simpler back in the good old days.

#3: People. I really love watching people. It’s one of my favorite ways to entertain myself. This category is far too broad to cover in one paragraph, so I’ve broken them up in categories.

#3a: People behaving poorly. Watching people at the airport is especially entertaining because it combines the perfect blend of stress and an anonymous setting. That combination results in people showing their true selves since they’re pretty much totally focused on themselves. Since I spent a good bit of time at the customer service desk, I witnessed several folks losing their patience due to missed flights. It was amazing to see how many people got really nasty with the folks behind the desk. The biggest jerk was a guy with his teenage son and two teenage buddies. He was really putting on a show for the boys by being really mean to the clerk behind the counter. I have to admire the clerk because he remained polite through the entire ordeal.

#3b: People in tacky clothes. An older flight attendant once lamented to me that she missed the day when people used to dress up to fly. Apparently flying used to be a special event and people dressed accordingly. Men wore coats and ties and women wore skirts and hats. Air travel has definitely moved past the point of being a special event and we’ve lowered our fashion styles accordingly. I like to be comfortable when I travel, but some people take that WAY too far. There are just way too many folks traveling in sweat pants. I know sweats are comfortable and there are cute ones for girls and cool ones for guys that look perfectly acceptable. Those aren’t the sweats I’m talking about. I’m talking about the discount store ultra-cheapo versions with stains and rips. The sweats you wear when you’ve got the stomach flu and you’re looking for the perfect blend of speed, comfort, and disposability.

#3c: People behaving weirdly. I thought I had a winner when I saw the quirky guy taking pictures of magazine covers in the convenience store. However, this was quickly topped by my experience at the ticket counter. While conversing with the clerk, I heard the sound of splashing water. When I looked down, lo and behold, there was a granola mom holding a juice bottle while her three year old boy relieved himself. Of course, he assumed the pose that most three year old boys use for relieving themselves: pants around the ankles. I looked away quickly until I heard the all clear signal, “Are you sure you’re all done?” Now, don’t get the idea we never dealt with pee-pee emergencies, but discretion was always at least attempted. I see lots of therapy in this young man’s future.

Looking back, I’m thankful to have been surrounded by a cast of characters that helped entertain me and pass the time. I just hope I helped some other stranded soul by entertaining them with my own peculiarities.

I came across police lights on the way into work this morning. A lady had slid off the road into a field and the police were on the scene to assist her. It made me pause because I very nearly ended up in the same field not too long ago. On that snowy morning, I was headed into work and it wasn’t very slick at all. Traffic was running close to normal speed and I was on autopilot. I noticed my tires spun a little when I started up a big hill, so I slowed down just to be extra careful. This hilltop is a little tricky because there’s a slight curve as you crest the hill, which tends to throw you out just a bit. When I crossed the hilltop on that snowy morning, the curve threw me out more than just a little. I felt the rear end of the truck start to come around and I steered into the skid as smoothly as I could. Now, let me state that I am quite certain that I am an above average driver, just like 85% of the folks in this country. I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve used my finely honed skills to pull off some spectacular exhibitions over my twenty-five years of driving. I was a pretty fair drifter long before any of the import wanna-be movies made it cool. It’s a skill I honed driving an over-powered truck with not nearly enough weight on fat rear tires with not nearly enough tread. However, I learned long ago that the Good Lord watches out for me sometimes when I’m not smart enough to pull it off myself. That snowy morning on that hilltop was one of those moments. I was doing my best to straighten the truck without overcorrecting and swinging the truck around into the opposite ditch. It was at that moment that I heard Carrie Underwood singing from the passenger seat. Well, not really, but somehow my big old truck straightened itself up and I realized I wasn’t sliding sideways anymore. With the exception of some sweating, heavy breathing, and that weird taste of copper penny in my mouth, it was all a memory. It was a memory until I saw that lady out in the middle of the field today. Seeing her out there in the field jogged my memory and I thanked God for delivering me that day. Then, a silly thought entered my head. I’ve been reading a lot of Old Testament lately and I like how the Israelites set up an altar of sacrifice when God delivered them. I thought to myself that I should follow the Israelites’ example and erect an altar on that hilltop. Like I said, it was a silly thought, but it started me thinking… where are the places where I should have built the altars in my life? Here are some of my sites in no particular order or significance. Please share some of yours if you are so inspired.

-Gatlinburg this past weekend: The Winterfest program was below average for me, but I really enjoyed the time with folks I love.

-Bloomington Hospital delivery room in April 1994: Jake barged into the world and forever changed my understanding of love.

-SMBC ballfield in July 2005: Praying for Brent with more passion that I’ve ever felt in my life.

-Children’s Museum in March 1988: First date with my best friend Beth.