Well, you may have noticed that yesterday’s story had a sort of abrupt conclusion. That’s because I wrote the last two or three paragraphs while running back and forth to the bathroom.

You see, when you have a tooth pulled, there is some amount of bleeding that occurs.

(WARNING: if you don’t like stories about blood, go on with your day now. If you’re OK with a little bit of such detail, you may continue.)

Well, I had been changing the gauze just fine from my roughly 2:30 tooth removal until about 4:30. That’s when I started noticing a different taste in my mouth. So, now instead of every half hour, I was changing the gauze every 7 minutes or so. And it just wouldn’t stop.

So, I laid down on the bed to see if relaxing would help. Nope. Actually, it seemed that the blood flow was increasing. That was slightly unsettling, so I called the doctor’s office. THEY HAD GONE HOME! Argh. Next I called the doctor’s home number which he had put on the brochure he gave me.

“Hello?” came the voice of a child.

“Hi, my name’s Greg Campbell.” Have you ever tried to speak with a piece of gauze in your mouth while blood is dripping out of your tooth cavity? I attempted to continue, “I had a tooth pulled today by [This Doctor]. Is this his home?”

“Yes, but he’s not here. Can I take your number?”

“Sure. That would be great.”

We exchanged information, and she assured me he would return home shortly. In the meantime, I went back to the bed to lie down.

About an hour later, no call from the doctor, but two more calls by me to some other folks I was nearing the end of my bag of gauze and there did not seem to be any end in sight to the bleeding. So, I was about to just go to a hospital, as I was beginning to feel a bit shaky or something.

Finally, the phone rings – it’s the doctor. He goes through some stuff with me, himself clearly agitated. I am trying to calmly explain what’s been going on, but he keeps interrupting me telling me to calm down. That confused me a bit. I found out later that he had a high school function for his middle son to attend that evening. So, his mind was sort of elsewhere.

After a bit of discussion, he says, “Well, why don’t you meet me in the office. How long does it take you to get there?”

“Twenty minutes.”

“OK, I’ll see you there then.”

And with that, I gathered up my last gauze and headed out the door.

Now, I’m not one to panic, nor am I one to bother other people with something I could probably do on my own. But, this thing was not stopping. In fact (this is the grossest it gets…), as I was driving, the blood was coming out so fast it started to come out of my mouth. It was like the movies! So I had to change the gauze while driving.

I put a couple more pieces in and asked God to make that last as long as possible. It did alright. The good doctor arrived shortly after I did, and we went right into his office.

He had me spit out the gauze and cleaned it out a bit in there, then he muttered something about why it hadn’t stopped, and told me, “I’m gonna get you sutured up. That should definitely stop it.”

I thought, “Whatever you say, Doc. Just stop this crazy bleeding.”

So, he numbed me up with more novocaine (twice in one day!) and then started sewing. 🙂 After not too long, he had tightened the place up and stuck more gauze up in there, and sent me on my way with another pack, saying I should be just fine now.

Well, he was mostly right. The bleeding had DEFINITELY slowed. That was nice. But it would not stop! Finally, I tried the tea bag trick. If you suck on a warm tea bag, it releases tannic acid while applying pressure, which is supposed to aid in the clotting. I think perhaps it did, because it seemed to be a lot less after that, and I even got to sleep with no gauze in the mouth. (I was hoping that would be the case.)

So, this morning arrived and I was not bleeding anymore, and I was happy to finally be past that part.

Now to get used to a mouth with one less tooth…

I sit here, a bit in shock after the amazingly fast tooth removal I just witnessed. Actually, that part sort of amazed me as well. I figured when they yank something out of your tooth that they would have to knock you out. Nope. Just a bit of novocaine administered by an aggressive, experienced (and hurried?) oral surgeon.

(Footnote: I learned a new word today… Maxillofacial. Go ahead, take another look. It’s not easy to say the first time. It means anything below your nose and above your neck. This guy was an oral and Maxillofacial surgeon. Cool.)

When I arrived, I was given the customary warm greeting from the lady behind the counter. (Wouldn’t you think the more people-person oriented would want to be a receptionist?) And, after I was processed administratively, I was sent to the waiting room for the once again customary 30 minute wait. No trouble here, as I found some fascinating articles in the latest issue of Discover Magazine to peruse.

When my time came, I was ushered to a nice, peaceful little room with a large red recliner. Of course, in the midst of the tranquility were anesthesias and rubber gloves and remnants of jobs performed earlier in the day, not to mention the tray of large, sharp metal tools displayed only inches from where my head would rest. That was comforting.

After only a few moments, a nurse arrives with most of a smile and asks me if I brought X-Rays. I told her I forgot mine at home, and she offered to take a photo of my teeth for only $19.95. I couldn’t pass up that kinda deal, so I accepted.

She quickly photographed my pearly whites and returned with a 2″ x 2″ black and white of my upper left jaw. They were beautiful. They were also quite full of metal. 🙂 I have not been the best caretaker of my mouth over the years, I don’t think……..

I began to ask a few questions about the procedure and she quickly silenced me with, “The doctor will explain everything when he arrives.” Feeling put in my place, I offered no further queries, and just relaxed in the recliner, waiting to find out what in the world they were going to do to me. I mean, teeth are pretty secure in your head, aren’t they? How were they proposing to remove this tooth anyway?

A few minutes later, in strolls the doctor. He’s a bit older than me, pleasant smile on his face, yet he had quite a professional air about him. He said hello, and we exchanged names, and I barely let him enter the room before bombarding him with how-to questions about the upcoming procedure.

He graciously answered my questions, and explained to me that the tooth removal was quite ordinary and would take all of five minutes. WHOA! Five minutes?! Crazy. But, he sounded as though it would be quite routine.

I asked a few more questions and finally said, “I guess I watch too much Discover Channel or something.”

He replied, “Yes. You sound like me… what is it you do?”

“I am mostly a musician, though recently I have been doing a bunch of graphic and web design work. I do many creative sorts of things.”

“Ahh. You must have a large left brain.” he commented.

I affirmed his conclusion, only later did I recall that in fact the creative types have large right brains. Was that a test? Did I fail? Probably not.

So, after numbing me up with a couple hastily administered shots of novocaine, he left to tend to another patient. When he stuck the needles in, I think he was aiming for a lobe of the brain near the back of my skull. Perhaps it works better that way? I told him I heard a ripping sound when he put the needle in, to which he replied, “Oh, that’s just the tissue. It was pretty tight there.”

Oh. That’s all.

Within a short period of time, Dr. Maxillofacial and his trusty sidekick return and get straight to business. I mean really. There was no time for pleasantries. I tried to ask a quick question, but they stuck their hands in my mouth and started to PULL.

Now, if you have never had this done, perhaps you are not aware of the force it takes to remove a tooth from its proper place. They are quite well entrenched in your head.

All of this happened so fast, I couldn’t really believe it. One moment I am at peace, alone in the nice quiet room, and the next there are two people with metal instruments stuck into my mouth pulling my head off!!! It was a bit disconcerting.

I felt the tooth begin to give way, and then it snapped, falling into my mouth. They quickly removed most of it (one piece was slippery enough to elude their recovery effort and found its way down my esophagus, to be dealt with at a later date.) After the initial break and quick clean up, he grabbed his power tools and started drilling. I have never… ever… EVER heard such a loud noise in my ear. It was incredible! Seriously loud, almost painful noise in my ear. I was not expecting that. Otherwise it was mostly painless.

The entire procedure was complete within only a few minutes – perhaps less. I was quickly sent on my way with post removal instructions and a cup with my tooth fragments in it to show to Ian upon my return home.

My wallet and head were a bit lighter, and I headed for home.

I am now one tooth less, and hopefully get to keep the rest. We shall see. 🙂

The hour is fast approaching when I shall bid farewell to a tooth whose end came far too soon. A mere 30 years, minus a few before popping out. But, now beyond hope, it must be removed from my head. And since this blog is called “Greg’s Head”… well, figured this tidbit was blog-worthy.

1:30pm today I get to see what it’s like to be one tooth less.

While cleaning out the car this morning I realized:

I really love to do things for other people, even at great cost to me… except when it’s expected.

(Do I need to work on that?) 🙂

I learned a lot this weekend. I think that was the goal, but it seemed like the stuff I was learning would have been considered peripheral. To me, it seemed important.

From the previous post, you know that I had an eye opening moment of seeing how much I am made to reflect God’s variety and difference. That was interesting. But only the beginning.

BOOKS
You may or may not know that I love books. Love them. We have quite a collection here in our house. All kinds of books, beautifully displayed on bookcases and shelves made by my Dad. We love the library, where we get books on loan for 2 to 6 weeks. We love library, and book sales even more! Fun! BAGS of books for only a dollar or two! Wow!

Well one thing you can find at conventions is books! Rows and rows of them. At discounts up to 90% off! Quite a deal! That was definitely a fun part of the weekend, but as we browsed, the line from Ecclesiastes coursed through my brain…

…Of making many books there is no end… – Ecc 12:12

Solomon realized that everyone has something to say, and always will. There will never be a book drought. And I think his revelation was fresh in my mind this weekend as I saw the vast array of commentaries on a vast array of subjects this weekend. The part that seemed especially interesting to me was seeing books by the same title, aimed at a different segment of the population. One book was released for: Men, Young Men, Your Sons, and perhaps more, though that’s all I can remember. We are very good at marketing, are we not?

As I thumbed through a few books, I just kept having the sensation that all this was meaningless – almost as the writer of Ecclisiastes did. All of this was very interesting to me, as I had a refreshing of my deep passion for writing earlier this week. What a strange balance! I love to write, and only long to do that… and yet I was seeing the futility of releasing my written thoughts into the massive sea of already written commentaries. Is it just adding to the noise?

INFORMATION EXCHANGE
Another thing that I love is to sit and listen to someone who has a lot of experience or knowledge in a field in which I have some interest. I love documentaries as well on the History Channel, National Geographic… all those. And again, this is something that conventions provide in abundance.

But this was another realization moment for me.

As we were listening to a speaker share from her heart some of the things that God had taught her, I realized that our western ways of information exchange are sorely lacking. I loved listening to what God had done in her life, but that is where it stopped. And, due to the layout of the room, and how the information was being presented, I am led to believe that is where it should stop. We are the pupils, she was the instructor. We present experiences as truths that should be applied to every person in every place at every time. Not on purpose, I don’t think. I believe that is an inherent shortcoming of the one speaker to an audience setting.

There are a couple reasons it did not work. First, the subject matter. We have tried for centuries to learn from the life experiences of other Christians (famous speakers, authors, and mostly our pastors who weekly share their thoughts on life with God from their pulpits). And listening to the wisdom and experiences of fellow believers is invaluable! But it is in the application of these ideas that we falter. We attempt to sketch them out just as they have been presented and lay them perfectly on top of our lives so as to gain the same blessing that the speaker has in their life. This does not always work because our Father is SO personal.

He has made each of us – EVERY one of us – unique. Completely unique. And so, his interaction with each of us is… unique. What works for one person in their walk with God may work for someone else, but probably not. So what we end up doing is feeling a strange sense of guilt that what the smart and “successful” speaker said is not working for me… must mean I am a bad christian! NO! We’re not supposed to live the lives that others have lived. We are meant to live with our Creator. Each step and each breath. Every move we make we make in him. We have one shepherd – Jesus. We are to heed his call, and follow his ways, and be like HIM. We can learn from our brothers and sisters in God’s family… but we should not assume that the way God chose to reveal himself to them, or work in their lives will also produce the same results in ours. They will not.

So we have this “expert” presenting ideas, while the masses listen and absorb and prepare to put into action. As I sat there absorbing, I thought… I wish I could interact! I just wanted it to be me and Jen and the speaker… and perhaps 5 or 6 other people. To learn from what she had experienced, and at the same time interject thoughts, ideas, and questions from my journey. To encourage her, and to widen the picture of who God is and how He works in our lives.

Isn’t that how we are made to function as the body? Sharing our knowledge and experience and wisdom with one another? “One Another-ing?” But we have this classroom structure to all of our information exchanges. We feel like more can be said if one person who has prepared their thoughts is speaking and the rest are listening. Couldn’t we gain even more if we all shared what we were learning from Father and didn’t try to give everyone else a pattern for catching God’s blessings… but helped them know him more through our lives lived with him?

Seems like that’s mostly what Jesus did. He spoke to large groups, but that was only a fraction of his teaching time. Most of his time was spent living life with his 12 disciples. And he explained truths more deeply to them. To the masses he spoke in parables. Jesus was much more concerned with loving people and touching their lives personally. A much more intimate information exchange.

Although I love to write books, and some may take any book I write that seems authoritative and try to lay the outline of it on top of their lives and expect God to act in the same ways… such will not ever be my intent. I know God is much to vast for me to contain in any book. No matter how thorough.

So I will continue to write, and share truth with the masses, as there is value in that. But I will long for the information exchange between a handful of people learning from each other, relationally.

Wouldn’t that be great?

My wife and I are spending the next two days with several hundred other homeschoolers from the state of NY. We even shed our parental responsibilities for those days (thanks to great friends and Grandma!), so as to focus completely on the acquisition of knowledge and supplies for schooling our children at home.

As we were sifting through the aisles and aisles of curriculum from such a wide variety of authors in such a grand assortment of styles, I noticed something. In almost every instance, the curriculum was promoting sameness. An idea or system was presented as a great way to convey knowledge, and marketed as such. Some curriculum even promotes the idea that promoting sameness is bad, but simply by the existence of such a curriculum, the authors ended up doing that very thing.

Before we came to this weekend, which happens to be one of Jen’s most favorite events of the year, we were having a discussion in which I was trying to figure out the reason behind my aversion to conventions. I really couldn’t figure it out. But today I think I saw the bastion of similitude that conventions inherently possess, and realized that may be a large part of it.

I love that we homeschool. I love the idea of it, and the practice of it, and just about everything about it. So, it would follow, one could assume, that I would enjoy a gathering of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of like-minded people from all over my home state for the express purpose of gaining knowledge and resources to that end. That makes sense to Jen. She loves it.

But, not me.

I told her it’s not so much the content, as evidenced above. I would probably be a little more excited about an Apple computer convention… but I still don’t really want to attend an event even with such amazing content as that.

After one hour in the main vendor hall, it struck me. There is a drive in us for sameness. Sometimes it’s in us, to match the behavior and ideas and other qualities of those around us. Sometimes we enforce our beliefs and worldviews on others, hoping to enact some bit of sameness in the process. It is not usually a violent process, just, the way it ought to be. This is quite prominent in the halls of faith. Most every public figure in the realm of Christianity on any level is attempting in some way to lay out a standard to which you should desire to conform. Often the standard is scriptural, but many times it is merely an interpretation.

The drive for sameness is the beat to which we all march. The books we read promote this. The curriculum at this convention says “Be like me!” The very culture of those in attendance here screams sameness. Many are dressed alike, speak alike, act similarly. It’s not that homeschooling by its very nature merely conforms people to some rigid mold. I believe that in every group of people who are connected by a similar interest or station in life there is a much greater degree of sameness than with the general population, thereby creating an appearance of conformity. You can even see this in the groups whose similarity is that they are trying to not conform, as we observed with a group of skaters the other day who looked and acted just like skaters some 15 years ago when we were in high school. And, actually, the homeschoolers are quite non-conformist as well by the nature of the similarity that defines their group.

Even in difference, we find sameness.

The Bible says we are sheep. Sheep follow the sheep in front of them. They do what they do, careful to not get out of step with the rest. In so many ways, that is just like us. I often see myself as the proverbial black sheep, as so often not by will but simply by who God made me to be I find myself choosing or thinking exactly opposite from everyone else around me. I am still a sheep, though. Just the black one. 🙂

So why am I so turned off by sameness? Why the compulsion to be different? Just ask Jen… almost every choice that comes up in life, we choose differently. (We do both enjoy a good Star Trek episode now and then….) 🙂 But somehow, I love variety in life. I love doing things differently.

We know that God is the same yesterday, today and forever, right? So, it can’t be that bad to be the same? Right?

I think perhaps that God is so amazing that while being the same, he is different. We already know that he is three persons in one. That within himself he is three distinct persons – more than just multiple personalities! God is so vast in his own nature that he is actually three separate persons. We also know that all of us are created in God’s image, yet are totally and completely unique. None of these things is just like the other. 🙂 To me, that reflects the vastness of our Father’s character. One of his Image Bearers can not house the enormous variety within his Being. But altogether, we begin to exhibit a reflection of him to the world. All together in our differences.

God did not make us robots to attain some perfect standard of conduct that he has predetermined for every one of his creatures. He has created us all uniquely. There is some drive in us that loves similarity and longs to be like everyone else, or at least associate with like-minded people. And sometimes, that leads to either not being who we really are, just playing games to be who others think we should be. Sometimes that leads to a sense of obligation and duty that God never intended for us. Sometimes that leads to conventions that celebrate sameness and encourage it all the more.

Sometimes that leads to me freaking out. 🙂

I’ll get over it. But I think that I learned something more about me today. Something in me can not conform. I don’t think out of pride or rebelliousness or anything fo the sort. I think it’s just a core part of who I am. Perhaps a piece of God’s nature reflected in me. Perhaps his spontaneity is evidenced in me, his love for variety and creatively approaching every situation differently. You can not help but see his love for variety in the universe that he has created!

Whatever it is, I am glad to be God’s messenger of difference.

Does that make me his “Variety Show”?

The marquee in front of a local church reads:

CH??CH

WHAT’S MISSING?

U R!

JOIN US FOR WORSHIP

It at least gets a chuckle from me every time we pass. 🙂 You gotta love those clever little sayings on church marquees across the nation…

But yesterday, it made sense to me. It wasn’t just a clever enticement to the lost and forlorn who need to come to church and find Jesus. It was true. For all of us.

This wasn’t a new revelation. I had understood before that God intended the church to be relational, not institutional. There are no commands to create a structure or any sort of hierarchy (almost exactly the opposite for the latter) but there are plenty of times we are reminded to “one another”. Love one another, bear with one another, encourage one another, share one another’s burdens. The new testament is replete with relational “commands”.

(Footnote: I am trying to figure out recently why we are so eager to know and follow God’s “commands”. It seems to me that God actually wants us to move beyond obeying him out of fear and move toward following him because we love and trust him. We heard someone recently describing the idea of “fearing God” and how that applies to a new testament believer. In the psalms it says “The beginning of wisdom is the fear of God.” And then in the new testament it says “Perfect love casts out fear.” We had a discussion in a small group over this, and then recently heard an interpretation that likened it to growing up. You start out with a healthy fear of the awesome and terrifying Creator of the universe, but as you learn to trust him, and his love for you – His perfect love – your fear is gone, and you “obey” him out of love. No longer are they “commands” to “obey”, but words of life that give you joy to know even more. Read more on this idea in Psalm 119. It’s all about the joy of God’s “commands”. End of footnote.)

With that understanding of body life, I noticed how much our structure of our main gathering denies us any chance to really do that. From the schedule that must be kept, to the seating arrangement (rows facing forward), to the purpose for gathering (directing our attention to the mostly non-participatory program being carried out on the stage), to even the hurried leaving time at the end. Almost everything we do is tailored to the event that does not encourage or even allow for relational connections, and so, they don’t happen.

I was longing yesterday to just stop singing and talk with people, get everyone excited to be there… and then sing. I noticed so many happy faces who were enjoying joining their voices with ours, but I noticed a number of others who looked like they wished this part was over. They were there because it’s what you do. From that quick observation I couldn’t tell if they were there because of someone else’s will or of their own will, but their faces did not seem to reveal true joy in their hearts.

So, I pressed on, and finished my part each time, though my heart longed to just stop and interact with people. If you have ever seen me do anything in front of people, you may have noticed that I am not your typical public speaker. 🙂 I love to interact, and take any chance I can to do that. But, as the song leader, often you just have to get on with the songs as they are a timed piece of a timed service, so my interactive options are slightly limited.

Then, as we listened to the sermon for the day, I noticed that on several occasions I just wanted to respond to something that was said. Sometimes with a question, sometimes with a supporting comment. But I just wanted to respond. And not just me. I wanted to hear from other folks in the room. How great would that be if we were all in some sort of setting where we were really doing this together?

But we’re not!!! Do you remember the stern warnings as a kid? “Shhhh! Be QUIET! Have a tic tac.” 🙂 (I added that last one in there… don’t remember if that was true or not, but my sister and I did consume many of those potent little breath fresheners as kids while attempting to sit quietly in our Sunday morning pew.) We are taught to be reverent by being quiet. By just sitting and listening. By being a passive participant. The whole structure is so sad! So limiting to what we could be. We could be the church. The body of those who have been saved. And that could be so much more if we weren’t so loyal to our denominational boundaries as well, but that’s an issue for another day.

The one last observation I had is our focus on the visitor. Not only are we denying ourselves a great chance to “one another” the other believers, but we are so careful with our words and the structure of our services to include the first time visitor or occasional attendee. We are cautious to remind them that offering is not for them… they don’t need to put anything in. We fear they would be offended, not understanding why we give. We explain communion to everyone, making sure they know they are welcome to partake if they are believers. Yesterday a few things were explained in the sermon as being for the regulars (I forget the word that was used), and if you have questions, to talk to someone after. None of these in themselves is a bad thing, but it just betrays our true focus. Most of the gathering is at least conscious of the visitor, and often focused on the visitor. But the purpose of the church gathering was to “one another” believers.

Church is not a time, a meeting, a building, a gathering, or any sort of measurable thing. The church IS the plural of the individual believers. We are part of the church as soon as we are part of Jesus. No man can decide when you are in or out. So, no set of qualifications determines when something is a church or not. You don’t have a list of items that must be met before you can be called a church. You don’t even need a gathering to be a church. HOWEVER… the church exists as a reality of Christ’s body on earth, and a main purpose of it is the one anothering that happens in a gathering. So why are we denying ourselves this primary purpose?

One more observation. At the end of a long morning of two services and rushing here and there, I found myself (and most everyone else) packing up at a rapid pace and trying to exit the building as soon as possible. I asked myself as I was doing that, why am I not trying to “one another” right now? Why do we all need to leave so fast after the services are over? And I realized, it’s because we WERE together for a long time, and now it’s time to go. We were there for hours! As were many others. Kids need to eat/sleep. Adults are tired as well. It’s just time to go. And we all lament as we leave the fact that we never get to spend much time with each other…

U R definitely missing from church today, but not as the marquee suggests. Your mere attendance at the gatherings we call church will not resolve that focal issue. We just need to get our focus off of what we call “worship” and as we gather together one anothering in every way scripture says, God will be “worshipped”. And the church will be stronger as believers are built up by mutual sharing of life, one to another.

Ideally, the church exists beyond a sunday morning gathering. The church exists in a neighbor helping out in a time of need. The church exists in a family providing a meal for another who can’t. The church exists in random gifts of money (like a Gas Card we received from some friends earlier this week!) The church is the embodiment of Jesus (Christ’s Body) in the world today. They will know we are his disciples by our love. That’s it. Not what T-Shirts we wear, or where we park our cars and our rear ends on Sunday mornings. Not even by how much knowledge we gain from all of the sermons or Bible Studies we ingest. They will know us by our love. Our real love for each other, as we “one another” with other believers, and as we love those whom God has placed in our path.

That’s the church. And I hope U R in it. 🙂

The NBA playoffs are on my television right now. Along with highlights from the latest LPGA tournament stop. Before that there were selected highlights (if you can call them that) from various MLB games. We are a society that loves sports, loves competition.

And not only at the professional level.

Today there was some fairly fierce competition on the field as teams battled it out for supremacy, striving for the goal, rounding the bases, diving and sliding, sacrificing their own bodies for the team. It was a rousing game of kickball. 🙂

We were invited to join two other families in a friendly game of kickball at the school playground that sits directly across from our house. (Quite a prime location upon which we reside.) Even though it had been a couple decades since we last donned our kickball uniforms, we decided to accept the invitation and have some athletic fun together.

As we were getting ready for the event, Ian decided it was a great chance to wear his cleats. He fished them out of hiding and asked me to help him get them on. As I was tying them I told him that I had a pair of these somewhere around the house. He seemed excited that we might have matching shoes – and cool shoes at that – so I thought I’d go look for them. I was pretty sure I had seen them in the basement, and I was correct! There they were, and with a bonus. Inside one of the shoes were my old football receiver’s gloves!!! Cool! I stopped by the boys’ ball bucket on the way out to grab the football following this unexpected discovery. 🙂

We all began to arrive at the field, tossing the football around, taking care to not injure the smaller people among us. We did have to hold back a good deal so as no to break anyone. That was what I was expecting for the ensuing kickball game. A friendly, low-key, help out the little guys game. Those can be fun. I love to see my kids having fun! I was not however expecting any great levels of competition.

As the game went on, I was right. We were quite lenient with the rules, and playing with a less than optimally inflated plastic ball also makes things rather difficult. But it was a blast! I think every time I was up to kick I was holding our 1-yr-old daughter in one arm. That made it a bit more difficult. 🙂

Every once in a while, I was able to make a play though. One that was challenging enough to be a little fun for me. I would field the ball near 3rd base and since it was so difficult to throw that ball, I would run across the field to first base and tag the runner just a few feet before they touched the base! Nice! A few times the runner was my wife! So I playfully tried a bit harder to tag her. Just having fun. 🙂

We ended up with a tie game – everyone was a winner! – and a few of us guys started throwing the football around. Even got in a few punts. That was a blast. I miss doing that. I had very small aspirations of playing football professionally at one point. I love it, and I am actually pretty good at most aspects of it. But, God had something else for me, and I love the path he has taken me through the past dozen years or so. Still, it’s always good to get out and really get to challenge my abilities. Most of my football throws these days are at about 20%. The targets are two small little boys still learning how to stop a ball from hitting their face, let alone catch it. 🙂

It was exhilarating, awesome fun! My last punt before we went home was a booming spiral kick that had some decent hang time. And I was just amazed that I could still do it. I loved it. Fun to try and achieve and just keep trying to do better. I do love competition, but mostly with myself. I have perfectionist tendencies to be sure, so that can be somewhat detrimental, but mostly it’s all fun. Just the drive to constantly reach new heights, new goals.

Well, I don’t know how it is in your house, but here in the Campbell home it seems almost each new day brings a new opportunity to see just how different my wife and I can be. 🙂

Jen is not competitive. I think she may have one competitive bone in her body, but it is buried deeeeep down inside her and rarely if ever makes an appearance. It did not show its face today. Not even in such an intensely competitive environment as a family kickball game where several parents toted infants as they ran.

After we got home, she asked me in a private moment where everyone else was outside, “Were you just being competitive, or were you being mean out there today?” I didn’t really know what she meant, so I asked. She said, “Your face, when you were coming to tag me, was just… mean.”

I was shocked. Really. I wasn’t trying to be mean. At all. I guess my face contorts when I am trying hard. 🙂 But I assured her that is really all it was. I was just trying.

And that surprised me. I mean, it was just a friendly game with kids ages 3 to 9 at an elementary school playground with a not-fully-inflated plastic ball. The game had no bearing on my life, or my financial standing. There was nothing to be gained by making even a single play on that field. And yet with each new kicker, with each new “pitch”… I was trying.

I knew a guy my freshman year of college at Michigan State who was the absolute most competitive human being I have ever met. You may think that’s too superlative. It is not. We would often have to either restrain him from hurting someone (including himself) or, he would just simply storm out of our friendly pick-up basketball game. Steaming, fuming, spouting not so nice words… and all for a game that meant absolutely nothing.

Have you ever known someone like that? Are you like that? Have you ever felt any piece of that? What drives us to compete? What makes us try so hard for things that don’t even really matter. How does competition such as a sporting event – no matter what level – make our faces look mean?

Personally, it is just my desire to do all that I do at the highest level. Everything. I can’t do anything half-heartedly. (Perhaps only when I force myself to brush my teeth. I still hate that! But even the fact that I do it shows that I can not do anything half way. I must brush, because I must do my best.) I am not completely certain why. Perhaps my upbringing? My Dad is great at giving his best. Anything he does deserves his full attention and expertise and effort. He does things big every time. And he does them well. Maybe it’s just my personality? Could be. I am up later than everyone in my family most days (like I am right now!), and I am almost always the first to rise in the mornings. There’s just a lot to do! I’m not a work-a-holic… many times I am up reading, writing, or watching a show or playing a video game. But whatever I am doing… I am fully into it!

As I ponder this, I am fairly certain that there is no pride-driven agenda. Especially today. I was not trying to prove that I was better. Not to anyone else at least. I may have unintentionally been “proving” to myself on each possible play that I could “do it”.

I think this is a battle that each of us faces. It may not play out in everyone’s life as a sports challenge, or even appear on the surface like a drive to compete. But lately I have been noticing how much I compare myself to others. In my work as a web or graphic designer, I often see the work of others as superior to my own in a myriad of ways. I compare the way others react to our music and how I perceive similar reactions to the music of similar artists. I wonder sometimes if the stuff I produce is good enough, or ever will be. Thoughts like these plague me until I begin doubting every skill or ability I ever saw as a strength.

That’s when Spirit usually steps in and reminds me to get my focus off of me and place it again on Jesus. My worth is not in my performance. Paul reminds the Galatians of that in his letter to them, and Spirit reminds me on many occasions. (Mostly because I don’t seem to get it the first time, or even the twelfth time.) I do need those reminders to stabilize my erratic heart every once in a while.

We all do. Comparisons often lead to despair. A spiraling effect that turns reality upside down. We can convince ourselves that everyone else is better than us. At least I can. Even though I know that it is not true. In the moment, it can seem that way. And comparisons can begin to emerge from even the purest competition. Part of competition is inherently comparison. Competition pits the skills of one combatant against those of another. No matter what the challenge might be, whether kickball, basketball or even a sewing championship. (What? They probably have those somewhere…) 🙂 Competition is all about comparison.

When done in a healthy way, competition is fun! It’s exhilarating. It gets your juices flowing and helps us to improve any skills we may have in that area. Even if our only opponent is ourselves. But sometimes the opponent can begin to gain victory. Sometimes we begin to falter. I dare say, inevitably we WILL falter. That’s part of competing. Somehow in the moments when we do it is imperative to find some perspective. That can be so hard, but it’s essential. You will not always be successful, but it’s definitely something to strive for. Hold on to what matters, and keep a level head. Stop comparing yourself to others and just enjoy the challenge! And, *gasp!* … maybe even cheer on your opponent as their improved performance not only improves yours, but makes the game more fun!

There will always be someone who is better, stronger, faster, more accomplished, prettier, smarter, or even seem more popular. Always. But God made you to be who you are, and that’s awesome. Friendly competition breeds comparisons, but those are healthy when both parties realize the overall significance of those skills or achievements. They do not define who we are. Jesus has already done that.

“Now you are no longer a slave but God’s own child. And since you are his child, everything he has belongs to you.”
      Galatians 4:7

My eternal worth was not up for debate at our kickball game today, nor earlier this week as I measured my work against that of my peers. But that verse is always a good reminder, and a good anchor for a bigger picture in life.

So get out there and compete! Life’s full of great challenges!

Just, try not to make a mean face.

This morning started off with a bang. Well, more of a dull ache that slowly grew to a not-so-dull ache. I tried flossing my teeth as that sometimes helps. I have a tooth that has caused problems for years. Didn’t help.

Finally, I couldn’t really do anything. My body was only allowing me to focus on the increasing pain in my head. So, 8:00am this morning I called the dentist. As I have mentioned before, I am not a fan of people sticking large needles and drills into my mouth, but at this point that was a far more acceptable option.

Friday is my dentist’s day off, but thankfully I was given an 11:15am appointment with his partner, and made it there right on time. After a targeted x-ray using something that doesn’t actually fit in a human mouth, they put me in the chair and told me I have an abscessed tooth. Translation: It’s dead. The same tooth that has been causing me problems, had a major cavity and then filling… is now infected inside and quite dead.

He gave me two options. Pull the sucker, or root canal. I was hoping for a third, but never got that. He explained that the root canal basically saves the tooth, but costs a pretty penny. (His words were “a couple thousand dollars”… ouch!) But I am leaning toward the toothless option as 1) sounds easier and 2) we ain’t got “a couple thousand dollars”.

Today’s fix was to drill a hole in my tooth to let the pressure out from the infection. Seems to have worked. But also cost me a decent chunk of change (they don’t bill me as my regular dentist does, they needed the money hoy dia.) Add this to our van having issues resulting in a bill in the multiple hundreds (thanks to warranty, it’s not in the multiple thousands as it could be!)

When it rains, it pours.

So, we anxiously await God’s provision and/or direction as the bills continue to mount for these unexpected expenses. As we have seen so many times before, when the unexpected expenses mount, usually the surprise supplies do as well.