Lent - Day 2 - Repent, and Repent Some More

 "Repent and believe the Gospel."

I'm carrying these words through Lent as a touchstone to keep my heart attuned to God's will and purpose. And it has had quite the impact already. Throughout the day, as I noticed myself drifting towards unproductive behaviors, I heard the word:

"Repent!"

Was I doing something wrong? Or was I about to? Not necessarily. But as one pastor/friend shared with me years ago, "The enemy of the better is the good."

And so I repented, or turned away from that which I was about to do or was doing. Consciously choosing to do something other than making the same mindless choices in the normal rhythm of the day reminds me that I have a higher calling, a greater purpose. And that purpose can only be fulfilled deliberately with each choice I make, and even choosing to make choices. One day the choices I make will be automatically in line with God's purpose for me.

Until then, I'll be repenting a lot.

Lent - Day 1 - Repent and Believe the Gospel

This morning's reading was from Joel 2:

The Lord thunders
    at the head of his army;
his forces are beyond number,
    and mighty is the army that obeys his command.
The day of the Lord is great;
    it is dreadful.
    Who can endure it?
“Even now,” declares the Lord,
    “return to me with all your heart,
    with fasting and weeping and mourning.”
Rend your heart
    and not your garments.
Return to the Lord your God,
    for he is gracious and compassionate,
slow to anger and abounding in love,
    and he relents from sending calamity.
Who knows? He may turn and relent
    and leave behind a blessing—
grain offerings and drink offerings
    for the Lord your God.

I went to the church this morning for Ash Wednesday. I sat down in the pew and looked up at the large crucifix at the front. My eyes were locked on it for about 10 minutes as I pondered this physical representation of the most profound moment in human history:

• Jesus Christ, the creator being killed by his creatures.
• Jesus Christ, author of life, accepting to die.
• Jesus Christ, sinlessness embodied accepting my sin and all sin to be placed on his account making me not guilty.

The priest then began the service by reading the same passage from Joel 2 that we had read earlier that morning. When the Spirit of God speaks twice, better pay attention. And as it came time to come forward to receive the ashes, the priest and deaconess repeated the same five words to each penitent in line.

"Repent, and believe the Gospel."

"Repent, and believe the Gospel."

And as I bowed my head and received the ashes, the deaconess repeated those words to me.

"Repent, and believe the Gospel."

Quietly, I returned to my pew and pondered the challenge.

"Repent, and believe the Gospel."

Repent - to make a U-turn away from sinful living and selfish desire, and toward a wholehearted pursuit of Jesus. But how can I do this? Am I good enough?

Believe the Gospel - the Good News that I don't have to be "good enough" because when Jesus died, God placed on Him the punishment that was rightfully mine because of my sinfulness. In that singular moment, Jesus achieved for all of us what no one of us could do for ourselves: A right standing before God.

To believe the Gospel is to accept by faith that Jesus' death is the only way for me to come back into the relationship God intended for me to enjoy with Himself, the relationship first seen in the Garden of Eden when God and man spoke with one another and no barrier existed between the two.

This Lenten season, it is my hope and prayer that I will fully embrace repentance and truly believe the Gospel, and that my actions would speak louder than these words. 

24 Hours in the Life of Khalaf - 3 April 2011

It's been a good few weeks. Two weeks' rest at home was followed by a quick 3-day trip to Tampa, Florida, a 5-day trip to Fort Wayne, Indiana and a 5-day trip last week to Tulsa, Oklahoma. This week I'm in Minneapolis, MN for the first time in 6 weeks. It's good to be back, especially considering what it took to get here:


4/2/2011
10:00pm - Finished cleaning up from Juju's birthday party. Tucked everyone in for the night. Fired up my laptop and printed my boarding passes. The best price for this trip was a Southwest flight to Chicago and a Delta flight onward to Minneapolis. Checked CNN for any late-breaking news. Found out about Southwest 812 losing part of the fuselage in-flight. Hmmm....


4/3/2011
7:00am - Woke up after sleeping in. Had a leisurely breakfast with the family. Got ready to go to visit a church - classmate is being installed as a Senior Pastor.


9:30am - Receive an email from Southwest Airlines informing me that my flight to Chicago has been cancelled. I am invited to rebook my flight online.


9:35am - Check flight availability online - no flights available on Southwest. Check other carriers - it will cost $500-900 or more to get to Minneapolis. Options are limited, so is my patience.


10:20am - Head out the door for church. Call Southwest and stay on hold for the entire 40-minute drive to church.


11:00am - Hang up the phone. Enter the church. Felt blessed and welcomed to be there. Decide during church that there's only one way to get to work on time.


12:30pm - Leave church and head home to drop off the family. 


1:30pm - Grabbed the lunch my dear wife packed for me and head out the door. I'm driving to Chicago to catch a flight. Plane leaves at 7:25pm Central. Plenty of time.


2:30pm - Pass through Jackson, MI.


3:30pm - Still driving...


4:40pm - Stop for gas in Indiana (Exit 19). Grabbed a can of Starbucks' Double Shot and a 32-ounce Diet Mountain Dew. The chemicals should keep me perky until I...


4:30pm (CDT) - Arrive in front of my friend's house in Chicago. He lives 4 miles from Midway and has graciously offered to park my car for the week. Knowing he isn't home I decide to leave the keys in his mailbox and catch a bus to the airport. Walking up to the house his brother comes out. We greet each other and he gives me a ride to the airport. Timing couldn't have been better - one minute later and he'd have been long gone.


5:15pm - Cleared security at MDW. Waiting for the airplane. Sit down and get some reading and writing done.


7:25pm - Board the flight to MSP. Another comfortable, uneventful flight.


9:00pm - Deplane at MSP. Walked to the Blue Chip counter and picked up a rental car with only ten (10) miles on it. Nice.


9:30pm - Arrive at the hotel. The clerk remembers me still and has me set up in my favorite part of the hotel - far away from the elevators and noise.


10:00pm - In bed, and ready for another week of work.

Royal Oak, MI - A Profile in Courage and Sportsmanship

It's been a while since I posted my whereabouts. Since the beginning of the year I have been to Minneapolis and back six times. Last week I was in Ohio for a change. Sadly, I didn't venture beyond the hotel. Maybe it was the ice storm that first night that left a 1/2 inch layer of ice all over the car that I had to chip through Monday morning. I'm sure there were some neat things to see there; if I go back in better weather, I'll write about them.

But this week finds me home doing things around the house - unclogging drains, getting cars running, cleaning the house, etc. One of the perks of being home is the opportunity to spend more time with our beautiful children - taking them to and from school, talking around the house. So far it has been a fantastic week.

Yesterday, Benjamin had a wrestling meet in Royal Oak, Michigan - about a 20-minute drive from the house. So after school I grabbed the video camera and headed over to the gymnasium. Once in the gym I found Benjamin and said "Hi" to him. I noticed he already had some absorbing material crammed up his nose. Come to find out that he got a nosebleed during warmups. No big deal, I thought; the bleeding will stop and he'll do fine.

This year Benjamin is wrestling the heavyweight class which, in middle school, is over 200 pounds. As he stepped out onto the mat for his match I noticed that while Benjamin was taller, his opponent was heavier. I wasn't worried; when we wrestled at home I learned that Benjamin could handle larger bodies.

As the match got underway it was clear that Benjamin's opponent was every bit as strong as him, but with a lower center of gravity. As the two went for the same throw at the same time, that lower center of gravity paid off and Benjamin was under. But Benjamin escaped and tried to work back for another throw.

Suddenly Benjamin motioned to the referee, who blew his whistle. Apparently Benjamin's nose started bleeding again, and it needed to be stopped. So in the nose went more absorbing material while both wrestlers and the mat were cleaned up. I wish that were the only stoppage, but his nose bled twice more. Each time involved more wipedowns and more material up Benjamin's nose. By the end of the second period Benjamin was pretty winded partly due to his inability to breathe clearly through his nose.

Benjamin took a big breath and started the third period in the bottom position and behind in points, 5-3. A few seconds later the referee awarded Benjamin a penalty point as his opponent had an illegal hand lock. The restart saw Benjamin again on the bottom position getting pummeled into the mat. But with a burst of energy he stood up and worked his opponents wrists to free himself with 40 seconds to go, tying the score at 5-5. Both boys knew that the next takedown would decide the match. And with about seven seconds to go they once again locked up, each looking for a winning head-and-arm throw.

As Benjamin gave one last heave his opponent lost his balance and fell on the inside of Benjamin's leg, twisting his knee and ankle. Immediately Benjamin screamed in pain and the referee blew the whistle. For about five minutes Benjamin lay there while his coach came out onto the mat and looked him over. Eventually getting back up on his good leg Benjamin was helped off the mat and back to his chair. Unable to continue, Benjamin was disqualified.

I couldn't have been more proud of my son and his valiant effort. I rushed down from the stands to his side. There, with the blood streaming from his nose and dripping from his chin he was on the verge of tears. I hugged him and told him how proud I was of him and how much I loved him. He gave it his all, and was on the verge of winning the most dramatic match of the meet. (Yes I am biased, but it was that good.)

But what followed was even more remarkable.

As I was looking to get change for the vending machine, one of the Royal Oak teachers offered me a water bottle for Benjamin from his office. Another Royal Oak trainer asked whether we needed another ice pad for Benjamin's knee. And as I was walking back I went over to Benjamin's opponent and congratulated him on a well-fought match. His response? "I'm sorry for hurting him - I hope he's OK." And at the end of the meet, with Benjamin still seated, every member of the Royal Oak Middle School wrestling team - coaches, trainers and wrestlers - walked all the way over to shake Benjamin's hand and wish him well. Their heavyweights, including Benjamin's opponent, lingered for a few minutes to chat with him and talk about the County meet in less than three weeks. And as I went to bring the car around to the near side of the gymnasium that same teacher made sure that Benjamin had a chair to sit on by the door.

I've been around school athletics for a while. What I've learned is that the students often reflect the attitudes of their coaches. Some teams come off as arrogant or rude. Others come across as mean-spirited or angry. And then there are groups like the wrestling team at Royal Oak Middle School. From the head coach who I talked with briefly to the wrestlers on the team, they were a classy and genuine bunch who let their wrestling do the talking.

And like Benjamin said, "I'll see them again at the County meet. I can't wait."

Me neither.

Signs That I've Gone Native

I'm nearing the end of my fourth straight week in Minnesota. As faithful readers of this blog know, I have spent a lot of time up here in the Land of 10,000 Lakes (a.k.a. Land of 10,000 Hockey Ponds). When I spend so much time in one place I develop feelings of ownership for it as if I have become one of the natives who lives there. Here are some signs that I've "gone native" here in Minnesota:

• I give directions to people trying to get places.
• The front desk staff at the hotel recognizes me by name.
• I avoid freeway traffic by taking side streets.
• My speech is dotted with "Eh" and "You betcha!"
• I take the shortcut out of the parking structure at the airport.
• The guy at the gelato stand at the Mall of America knows my preferences. ("Mocha flavors, right?" http://www.paciugo.com)
• I know who Ole and Lina are.
• Weather is a big topic of conversation, but the cold weather doesn't really bother me.
• I have used the word "spendy" correctly in a sentence without trying.

I'll be home in sunny, warm Michigan next week. Yes, I know - it was only 9 degrees this morning in Detroit. Take a look at the temperature from my car dashboard this morning:


Yup, that's -15 degrees Fahrenheit, or -26 degrees Celsius. In case you're wondering, it is actually warmer in Anchorage, Alaska.

Can't wait to get home.

24 Hours in the Life of Khalaf (Extended Edition) - 30 December 2010 - 1 January 2011

After teaching a 2-day class in Fergus Falls, MN I head for home. To get to Fergus I flew into Fargo, ND on the 28th as it was closer than Minneapolis. By flying out of Flint, MI I managed to save $400 on airfare. But getting home has proven to be the bigger adventure thanks to a winter storm in the plains that made the news due to a 100-car pileup on I-94 west of Fargo.

12/30/2010

4:00pm - Left Fergus Falls, MN for home. Bad weather expected all throughout. Decided to drive to Fargo, ND (65 miles) through falling snow instead of Minneapolis, MN (195 miles) through snow and freezing rain.

4:30pm - Visibility on I-94 reduced to 1/2 mile due to drifting and blowing snow. Going about 40mph behind a Minnesota State Trooper.

4:45pm - I pass the State Trooper and pick up my speed to 60mph. I've settled in now, but in the back of my mind I don't like the driving conditions that much. I already know that I-94 is closed west of Fargo; just a matter of time before they close it east of Fargo as well.

5:15pm - I've been on the road for over an hour and I've only covered 35 miles on an Interstate highway. Visibility is down to zero. Let me explain zero visibility. It is dusk, so sunlight is scarce. It is overcast, with falling and blowing snow. That means everything outside is the same bluish-gray except for the red tail lights of the vehicle in front of me and the pavement under it whenever snow isn't drifting across it. As long as I stay behind the red lights and between the lines on the road whenever I can see them I should be fine. Top speed at this point: 15 mph with the occasional burst to 20.

5:45pm - Finally arrive in Fargo. Got off the freeway because I'm at my exit and because the "Road Closed" barrier is swung across the freeway. I can't see the hotel, and drive a half-mile too far. Made a U-turn and barely see the hotel sign through the snow. Pulled into the gas station to fill up the rental vehicle and to buy some food for dinner; no restaurants are open. Walking into the convenience store to pay for my gas I noticed that the ground is covered in an inch of ice. Not good. Get back to my car and go out the side driveway to the hotel. Bad move. That driveway wasn't plowed and now I'm stuck in snow.

6:00pm - After rocking the vehicle for 15 minutes, three teenagers walk up and offer to push me out. They can't.

6:10pm - I walk across the street and check into my hotel room, leaving the vehicle running. I then ask for a shovel and head back to the car and start digging. The temperature is 4 degrees Fahrenheit with a windchill of -22. Another man pulls up and helps to free my wheels. He then pushes me and I'm unstuck, but still not in the clear. Another 10 minutes of carefully rocking the vehicle up the driveway and I can now turn it around, go out the main entrance of the gas station and around to the hotel.

6:35pm - I drop my stuff in the hotel room and head down for the Manager's Reception, catered by Famous Dave's. Nice touch. It's a bit crowded; I suppose many of the folks here tonight were forced to alter their travel plans when I-94 was closed west of Fargo. I now find out that I-94 has also been closed east of Fargo all the way to Alexandria, MN (60 miles past Fergus Falls).

7:00pm - Back in the room I change and repack the suitcase. A quick check of my flight itinerary shows that the 7:05am flight has been pushed back to 7:45am. I call Delta and they tell me that the Airbus is on the ground in Fargo. As long as we can take off in the morning before the next storm hits (scheduled for 3pm 12/31) I'll be good.

12/31/2010

5:00am - Alarm clock goes off.

5:10am - I get out of bed, get dressed and pack up. I check one more time with the airline and find out that the 7:05am flight has been CANCELLED. Next earliest flight they can get me out is Sunday afternoon. Not good; I ask about alternatives. They confirm a seat on a flight from Grand Forks at 11:00am. That's only 80 miles away, but the interstates are all closed. I look at a map and find an old US Route that could get me there. But with the road conditions, 25mph winds and drifting snow I'm not sure I can. I call back and they get me a seat on the 11:00am flight from Fargo.

6:30am - After breakfast I head out to the car. Irony - while the path to my vehicle is clear, there are snowdrifts in the driveway blocking either exit. I wait and watch in amazement as snow removal vehicles show up and begin moving the snow out of the way. Soon I'm on my way to the airport.

8:15am - I arrive at the airport and turn in the vehicle. I go to the ticket counter and find a line of standby passengers from earlier flights waiting to be helped by the only Delta employee who made it in - a baggage handler. (Note: In the smaller airports it is not uncommon for airline employees to be trained to cover multiple tasks.) He was able to print two of my three boarding passes. The one that didn't print? Yup, the Fargo-Minneapolis leg. He assured me that when his supervisor got in she would be able to do it.

11:15am - Boarding pass in hand I walk down the jetbridge to board the first flight to Minneapolis. If I can get out of Fargo before the second blizzard hits, I should be able to get home in time.

12:30pm - In Minneapolis, waiting for the 3:20pm flight to Detroit. I should get in at 6:00pm to make the 7:30pm flight to Flint. There have been lots of families with kids and kids without parents travelling today. It's been fun to watch the nervous looks from parents who see me wearing a suit. I assure them that I've travelled with three kids of my own. As soon as I say that they relax a bit and let their guard down.

3:30pm - In the plane, heading over to the deicing pad. I fall asleep.

5:00pm - I wake up to find that we are still on the deicing pad. Apparently there was some ice found inside the engine and they wanted to get a closer look at it before clearing the plane for takeoff. Wow.

7:25pm - Landing in Detroit, I run to the next flight only to watch as the jetbridge is pulled back. No gate agent at the counter and the door is closed. I have officially missed the last flight to Flint.

7:45pm - I head over to the SkyClub and share the events of the last two days with the Customer Service Agent. She immediately swings into action and secures vouchers for meals and two taxi rides - one to get me home and another to bring me back to the airport in the morning. I head down to the taxi stand and get a ride home.

9:00pm - Home, finally. Time to party with the family!

1/1/2011

12:00am - Happy New Year!

12:01am - zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

6:00am - Alarm clock goes off. I wake up, get dressed and have Basma drop me off at the airport. I skipped the free cab ride to spend some time with my wife.

8:00am - Cleared security; used the meal vouchers to buy 6 croissants from Brioche Doree. The family is going to have a special New Year's breakfast!

9:45am - Landed in Flint; picked up the car.

10:40am - Arrived home. Finally.

Anchorage - Day 7 - Epilogue

The flights home were relatively uneventful. Exit row seating gave my legs a place to stretch. I didn't get much sleep on the Anchorage-Salt Lake flight, and I used the Salt Lake-Detroit leg to fill out my paperwork for the week. Arriving at Detroit at 2:05pm Saturday, I headed over to the Starbucks for my first coffee in well over a week. My lovely wife picked me up a few minutes later and we enjoyed the ride home.

I can't wait to go back to Alaska. In fact, I think that's where we'll go for a family vacation this summer. Then I'll finally get to see the "other" Alaska - green everywhere and sunlight forever.

Anchorage - Day 6 - The Sights and Sounds of Alaska

After breakfast I packed my room, checked out and headed over to Elmendorf for the last day of class. This group of students has been an exceptionally fun bunch to be with. So I was determined to enjoy every last moment with them.

At lunch Dennis drove me over to the 3rd Wing headquarters building. In front of the building was a memorial. Part of that memorial was a large aviary in which resided three injured bald eagles who are not able to return to the wild. What a treat to see the national bird up close and personal! (See the bald eagles here.) After taking a few pictures with the birds we headed over to the Base Exchange (BX) for lunch.

We wrapped up class and I headed out to the city. My flight wasn't for another 10 hours and there were no seats available on earlier flights. I drove around, looking for a place to have one final dinner in Alaska before heading home. It had to be salmon; what sense would it make to come all the way up here and not have salmon?

Between window shopping and driving around I finally decided to pull into The Sourdough Mining Company. It had all the makings of a tourist trap: The faux mine entrance, the reconstructed dining hall, the Alaska Wild Berry Store and some kind of theme park adjacent. But I went in anyways knowing I could always order salmon.

And I did.

With the salmon I had a dinner salad and some corn fritters, which were like miniature donuts. But the real fun of the meal was Helga, a singing telegram, who delivered her message a few tables over to Jared, the 40-something birthday boy. She was hilarious! Her shtick, singing and general attitude left myself and half the tables in the restaurant laughing out loud at her goings-on. I thought to myself, "Where else have I been where such a spectacle would be tolerated, let alone appreciated?" And quite bluntly, I can't think of anywhere else that would have worked.

And that summarizes the charm of Alaska. This beautiful land is truly The Last Frontier, with its abundance of optimism and can-do spirit. The simplicity of the joys of life combined with the zest for enjoying them is something that speaks to my inner being.

It's a few hours until my plane takes off. Twelve hours later, I'll be back home in Detroit. But a bit of my heart has licked the frozen flagpole of Alaska (and liked it), and will be here long after I'm gone.

Anchorage - Day 5 - The Sweet Taste of Fellowship (again)

The price you pay in Anchorage for a clear blue sky is plummeting temperatures. Yesterday the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. This morning on the way into the office I watched in mild amusement as the outside temperature displayed on the dashboard fell from 15 to 4 degrees Fahrenheit. The official temperature at Elmendorf: Zero. Yep, it's going to be cold.

Anchorage is set between the sea and the mountains. Cloud cover serves to trap heat and keep the area warmer than when there are no clouds. And today was an absolutely clear day - not a cloud in the sky. While that made for a gorgeous sunrise (at 10:00am), the temperature never climbed above 14 degrees.

After work I headed back to the hotel and rested before heading over to Dennis' house for dinner. Yes, this dear brother has taken it upon himself to be the Hospitality Committee, Welcome Wagon and the Chamber of Commerce. He welcomed me into his home and I sat down to dinner with him and Michael, a fellow believer from Sudan who, in addition to his day job, is ministering among the Sudanese in Anchorage. With Dennis' wife and daughter out and about, it was "Guys' Night." And what refreshment! Dennis prepared a beautiful dinner with steak, wings, salad, potato and broccoli. After dinner we enjoyed some pie. And all throughout the evening we spoke of God's goodness in our lives.

For all the road weariness that has piled up over the last two months, these last two days have been such an encouragement and blessing. To think that Dennis was sensitive to the Lord's leading and saw fit to extend his hospitality to me has been simply amazing.

Anchorage - Day 4 - Feed Me, O Lord!

On the way into work today I came across a car that had slid off the road and into some thick snow. The driver, an airman from Elmendorf, was spinning his wheels unable to get any traction. Well, this is Alaska and you don't just leave people in the cold when they need help. I put on my blinkers and tried to offer my assistance. We kicked snow out of the way and watched as the wheels kept spinning. Another lady who worked in a nearby warehouse also stopped and offered to get some shovels if we couldn't get the car out. But with our pushing, the airman was able to free his car and get back on the road. I climbed back in mine and headed off to work.

This week was starting to take on the routine of all other weeks: Roll out of bed, through the breakfast line, into the car, into the office and back to the room at the end of the day. Thankfully, God intervened through the hospitality of one of my students. Dennis, or "3-D" as his friends and his initials go by, insisted on treating me to lunch at one of his favorite greasy spoons in Anchorage, The White Spot Cafe (picture here). He said it was the place to go for a halibut sandwich. He was right. Simply put it was the best fish sandwich I ever had, coming second only to Rubio's fish tacos.

But Dennis wasn't done with me yet. He invited me to join him at his church for dinner and prayer meeting. And so at 6:00pm I drove down to Shiloh Missionary Baptist Church to spend the evening with Dennis and other brothers and sisters in Christ. I met up with Dennis in the gym and had a slice of pizza with salad and 2 clementines. He then introduced me to two believers from Sudan. Apparently, there are quite a few Sudanese refugees living up here in Anchorage and Dennis and the church have a heart for reaching out to them and ministering to them. I never thought I would use my Arabic up here in Anchorage, but here we were talking away much to Dennis' delight. Later, Dennis told me he wants to learn Arabic. Having heard of his love for languages, I don't doubt that he will.

After a tour of the church facility and many other introductions, we sat in the sanctuary for the prayer time and Bible Study. It was so refreshing to hear the people's testimonies of God's work in their lives. The pastor, a 72-year old gentleman originally from the Gulf Coast, continued to encourage us as he led us in prayer and Bible study. At the end of the service he asked whether there were any visitors who needed to be introduced and "honored." Dennis stood up and introduced me to the congregation. The pastor smiled and asked me whether I wanted to "share a word." I stood up and thanked him and the congregation for their welcome and hospitality.

In that moment, I had a taste of heaven. Here I am in a room full of people I never met before and somehow, we had a compelling love for each other. That somehow is Jesus Christ. The pastor was continually reinforcing the importance, supremacy and necessity of Christ. And as followers of Christ we all had more in common than we didn't.

Thank you, O Lord, for the faithfulness of your servants here in Anchorage. May you bless them, their families and the fruits of their labor for the glory of Your Kingdom. Amen.

Anchorage - Day 3 - Another Day at the Office

Today was a routine day at work. I got up, had breakfast and headed over to the classroom building. Class went smoothly, and I returned to the hotel. I tried going for a run, but my new shoes turned out to be a bit small and within 10 minutes I had shooting pain in both my heels. I decided to back off lest I do some serious damage.

After all, I don't want to ruin my chances of running the Detroit Marathon.

Anchorage - Day 2 - Welcome to Elmendorf!

After the 14-hour trip I couldn't quite settle down for a nap. Between having slept on the planes and the adrenaline of arrival, I found myself wondering whether I should just stay up until work. I slipped into my pajamas, turned on the TV and watched SportsCenter until about 3:00 am, when I felt drowsy.

Two hours later my alarm clock went off. I shaved, showered, dressed and ate breakfast before heading out to the Visitor Center at Elmendorf Air Force Base. There, SMSgt Butler met me at 7:00am and sponsored me onto the base. I followed him with my vehicle to the classroom building. He gave me a tour of the building and showed me to my classroom. By 8:30am my 13 students showed up and we had a great time. This group is a fun bunch and I can tell it's going to be a good week.

Sunshine is definitely at a premium up here. This is the dark time of the year, and when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds I snapped a couple of pictures on my phone for you to see what it looks like around 3:00pm: http://picasaweb.google.com/khalaf.writes/AnchorageAlaska

After class I came back to the room and ate a sandwich I still had from Chicago. I was so sore and tired from travel that I was in bed by 7:00pm. Guess I'll have to do my 2-mile run tomorrow. morning.

Anchorage - Day 1 - Just Get Me There!

The month of November saw me travel between Minneapolis (twice) and Fort Wayne (twice). Thanksgiving week was enjoyed at home with a weekend filled with huge meals and extended family. I carved a turkey on Thursday, venison shoulder on Friday, and a quiche on Saturday (that was for breakfast).

The day after my 5K run saw me heading to Anchorage, Alaska for a 5-day class. Now I've been to Anchorage twice before, and both times in December. A quick check of the forecast for the week had highs in the 20s and lows in the 10s, so I wasn't too worried about the weather once I got there.

But getting there was going to be the chore.

The best price on a ticket meant that I would be flying from Detroit to Chicago/O'Hare to Salt Lake City, and from SLC on to Anchorage. As I checked on my flight statuses, I saw that my flight from Detroit was delayed to where I would not make the connection to Salt Lake City. Frustrated I called the airline to check my options. They put me on standby for a flight from Detroit to SLC, but they couldn't guarantee it. Frustrated, I headed for the airport as quickly as possible, hoping that other options would be available if I were there in person.

Strangely enough, when I got to the airport I saw that my original flight was no longer delayed. I ran to the gate to find that it was running only 20 minutes behind schedule. I figured that would still leave me with plenty of time to make the connection in Chicago.

We landed in Chicago on the northernmost runway, which is a good 5-10 minutes of taxi time back to the terminal. When we pulled up to the gate I had 7 minutes to make the next flight. As soon as the door opened I zipped out of the plane and up the jetbridge. When I got to the next gate the plane for Salt Lake City had not yet arrived. Relieved, I waited and recalculated how much this next flight delay would affect my connection time in SLC. I learned that SLC was socked with "weather", but the nature of the weather issue wasn't made clear to me. I figured if they had "weather" then perhaps my Anchorage flight would be delayed enough for me to make it.

When we took off from Chicago the pilot came on and announced the situation: Fog had rolled into SLC to the point that we might have to divert to Twin Falls, ID if it wasn't safe to land. Wow, I thought. If we divert there is no way I'll make it to Anchorage tonight. I prayed, and left it in God's hands.

About 3 1/2 hours later, I woke up from a nap to look out my window. I couldn't see anything. Suddenly, runway lights were whipping by my window and we landed in some of the thickest fog I'd seen on landing. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to SALT LAKE CITY!" A collective cheer went up from the passengers. I turned on my phone to check the time: 11:51pm Eastern. That gave me 8 minutes to make my connection which was NOT delayed. We pulled into the gate, and once again I was chasing the gate agent up the jetbridge. I asked, "Is the flight to Anchorage still here?" But before I got a response, I ran down the concourse, from gate B8 to gate C3. It was already 9:59pm Mountain, which was the scheduled departure time.

When running to make a connection there are some things you look for: A crowd of people, which lets you know the state of the boarding process, and the gate agents who can help you. When I arrived at C3, there were no passengers. However, there were two gate agents at the counter. But the best sign was that the doorway was still open. This is your sign that you might still be able to get on. I didn't break stride as I ran right toward the door and stopped to pull out my boarding pass.

"Wow, that was quick!" said a gate agent. Apparently the other gate agent had called ahead to let them know I was coming. (I guess that distance running is paying off already...) "I didn't think you were going to stop at the door!" said the other. We had a good chuckle and I was so thankful that I had made the flights.

We landed in Anchorage at 1:00am Monday Alaska time (5:00am Eastern). I picked up my rental vehicle, drove to the hotel and flopped in my room. It was now 1:40am Alaska time, making my home-to-hotel travel time about 14 hours.

And I have to be at work at 7:00am.

263

A few weeks ago on a Saturday night I was sitting in my living room with my wife and three other couples from church. We were going around the room sharing our lives with each other. When it was my turn I talked about how low I was feeling from the accumulation of travel and absence from the family. Concerned for my well-being, they not only prayed for me but encouraged me to do something about it: Take up distance running.

If you know anything about me, distance running would be the last thing I would choose to do in any athletic contest. I remember doing a cross-country run back in 8th grade - I placed 155th out of 157 runners. Yet somehow, I found myself not only accepting Karen's challenge to run a 5K road race in three weeks, but also welcoming Marty's offer to come by the next morning, Sunday at 7am, to "get me moving for 20-30 minutes."

Sure enough, Marty showed up the next morning and we ran/walked a 1-mile loop by my house. It was tough going for me. I couldn't breathe right and my lower back started to throb. But thanks to Marty's encouragement by my side I made it around. Over the next few weeks I continued to run treadmills at the different hotels I stayed at, slowly expanding my range. At this point I set myself a goal of finishing the 5K run in under 39 minutes. The next Sunday Marty took me on a 3-mile loop by his house. Again, I managed to run/walk the whole thing with his constant encouragement.

And so last Saturday, December 4, I showed up at Northville Downs in Northville, MI for the Jingle Bell 5K Run/Walk for Arthritis. Getting there early, I signed in and received my bib number: 263. In addition to the safety pins they gave me a couple of "jingle bells" to hang as well. A few minutes later Chris and Karen showed up with their son Nick, who would join Karen and me on the run. Chris' job was "Technical Support" which involved driving, cheering and making sure Karen got a warm cup of coffee at the finish. (The temperature at the start of the race was 24 degrees Fahrenheit.)

We lined up for the bunch start and waited for the signal. One air horn later and we were underway. As the mob began to stretch out, there was room for the runners to navigate around the walkers. And by the 1/2 mile mark we were clear enough to keep running at a pace. The three of us managed to stick together for the first 1.25 miles, with Karen able to keep a conversation. I was breathing way too heavily to try to talk, but I appreciated the encouragement nonetheless. As we came around a turn there was a significant downhill drop in the trail. I had decided before the race that if I came across a downhill drop that I would not burn any energy trying to slow myself down. And so I zoomed ahead and soon found myself running alone.

That's when it got harder.

Not only was I running at a slightly faster rate but I didn't have anyone next to me to encourage me. Realizing that at this point the battle was more mental than physical, I began to give myself a series of challenges to keep my legs going: "Push for the next mile marker", "Catch that runner with the silly striped outfit". Before long I saw the 2.5 mile marker - I had run 2.5 miles nonstop! Problem was, at the higher pace my lungs were working super hard. I kept pushing as hard as I could before I mentally hit a wall and bounced off. I broke stride and started to walk, disappointed that I couldn't finish the race without breaking stride. Still, I kept walking briskly toward the finish because I knew that's where I parked the car.

Suddenly, Karen and Nick caught up with me. The first words I heard her say was, "Great job!" As I awkwardly tried to restart my running legs I noticed that they had stopped running to walk with me. I don't remember much of the rest of what was said, but I remember that they were very encouraging. When I asked, "Shall we get running again?" the response was, "If you're ready." And so we were running again, and this time I was back on the original pace. A few strides later and Nick took off for the finish line. Karen and I continued to run toward the line at our pace. When the finish line came in sight I asked Karen, "Are you up for a sprint finish?" She responded, "Not really." I quickly said, "Me neither!" and we crossed the finish line together. Our time: 33 minutes, 15 seconds, which includes how long it took us to cross the start line. True to form, Chris was there with a cup of coffee, a blanket and much encouragement for the three of us.

As I drove from the race to Benjamin's chamber music recital (which showcased the finest tuba playing I've ever heard from an 8th grader), I pondered the total experience and was amazed by the life lessons it contained:

1. God surrounds us with His Love through His people: That night in our living room, people cared for me not just by praying but also by action. Encouragement from Marty and Karen were practical steps taken to show this kind of care. (John 13:34-35)

2. Regular training is important: If I wanted any chance of making my 39-minute goal, I had to try running ahead of time. I had to condition my body and prepare for the event. In a similar way, God expects us to prepare for the work that he has in store for us. (2 Timothy 2:15)

3. Slow and steady wins the race: Had I not broke stride during that downhill part I may have completed the 5K run without stopping. Instead, I ended up taking a breather at the 2.6 mile mark. Sometimes we get ahead of ourselves and our abilities. But God doesn't expect us to do more than He has prepared us to do. (Ephesians 2:10)

4. When a brother falls, pick him up: I'm sure it would not have been difficult for Karen and Nick to blow past me and yell, "See you at the finish line!" But they stopped for me, waited until I had caught some of my breath back, and then ran with me the rest of the way. (2 Corinthians 1:3-7)

I'm going to keep up with running. Shortly after the race Marty texted me to say that the Detroit Marathon/Half-Marathon is in 10 months (probably not). The next day Basma bought me a pair of running shoes ("Early Christmas present") which will be lighter to pack for travel than the basketball shoes I used that day.

I still don't like distance running. But I'll do it anyways.

Reno, Nevada - Eyes in the Sky

After the wonderful weekend that was the 2010 Edition of The Grapevine Project Fall Conference (http://www.thegrapevineproject.org), I hopped on a plane and headed to Reno, Nevada. Yes, the irony of following up a weekend at a retreat campground with a 5-night stay in a casino/resort is not lost on me. And to be perfectly candid, I think I really like Reno.

From a business standpoint, the setup is quite comfortable. The airport is less than two miles from the hotel. The hotel runs a complimentary airport shuttle every thirty minutes throughout the day. The office is right across the street from the hotel. Walking time from my room to the office: Seven minutes, and two minutes were spent waiting for an elevator on the 17th floor. There are nine different eateries in the hotel, including the obligatory buffet. And if I want some down-to-earth food, there is a grocery store and two cafés next to the office.

The view from my recently updated 17th Floor room was spectacular, as I could look across the valley and up into the mountains. Thanks to natural jetlag I was able to take in every sunrise effortlessly and gleefully. During the walk across the street I can't help but marvel at the snow-capped Sierra Nevada mountains that surround this community on all sides. Although I am in the middle of the city, I somehow feel close to nature. This refreshes me as the mountains all point to the Creator and remind me of his love which surrounds me. And without the stress of a rental car I am truly in no hurry as I walk at my own pace.

After work I return to the room, leave my bag and my tie and head down to one of the restaurants. Monday I did the buffet. Tuesday I enjoyed half-price appetizers at the bistro, specifically a shrimp and scallop ceviche with mango, and mini mahi-mahi tacos. Wednesday was a Cobb Salad at the deli. Thursday was a BBQ Chicken Salad and a cup of Potato Soup at Claim Jumper with two colleagues from the office. (Incidentally, the Claim Jumper is the only place in Reno I've been outside the airport/hotel/office in three trips here.)

On a couple of evenings as I wander back from dinner I pick up a 20-ounce cup of illy coffee with cream and sweetener to enjoy a little but save for breakfast the next morning. And as I walk back to the elevators I observe the people who are there. But it's not the gamblers I watch; it's the dealers.

As a mathematician (who squeaked through Probability and Statistics with a C) I know enough to stay away from the tables. While my training could be put to "good use" I prefer to watch the comings and goings. Blackjack tables bring back fond memories of playing for chips with my cousins late on a Friday night (I didn't want money to get between us). The Poker room looks much like it does on ESPN, with players who look like they are dressed for anything but success. But it is always the Roulette table that grabs my attention.

Roulette is a simple game. You get a stack of colored chips, and you plunk them down on different spots on the board. A wheel spins, a marble drops and a number is called. Whatever chips are touching that number get paid out; all other bets are swept off the table. I have seen people walk up to the table, put down $100 and lose their entire stack in under 5 minutes. But I have also watched people put down $20 and work that small stack into $200 in a matter of 20 minutes. (That kid kept playing and left with only $80 of his winnings.)

Like I said earlier, it is the dealer that fascinates me most. When given a $20 she puts the money on a stand in front of her, counts the player's color chips and slides the stack to the player. Then she takes the currency to a slot on the table and pushes it through with an acrylic handle into a box under the table.

This magic stand is also the scene of another interesting transaction. As players win, they give the dealer tips on occasion. In order to accept the tip the dealer puts the player's color chips on that stand, counts out an equal number of "house" chips and places them next to the color chips on the stand. She then claps her hands over the chips and turns her hands up and down as if to direct her palms toward the chips and toward the sky. These hand motions are automatic; there is no hesitation in executing them. It is just a part of what she does.

I thought about that for a while: What's up with all that? And then I realized (thanks to movies like "Ocean's Eleven") that there are cameras all across the ceiling trained on those tables. The dealer is showing her empty hands to the camera as a way of being held accountable for her actions. Between the pit bosses roaming the floor and the "eyes in the sky" she is sufficiently motivated to maintain her professional integrity in the interest of keeping her job.

That got me wondering. Between God's "eyes in the sky" and my fellow brothers and sisters here on Earth, what about my integrity? God is just as real as the electronic surveillance in the casino, if not more so. If I truly believe that, then shouldn't my actions align with that reality? And if we as brothers and sisters would commit ourselves to owning up to our responsibility as mutual "pit bosses", perhaps personal integrity wouldn't be so much of a challenge. And if such accountability and practicing the presence of God were a habitual part of our daily living, then maybe - just maybe - we could begin to taste that freedom and abundant living that Jesus came to give us.

Yep, I definitely like Reno.

"Let your light so shine before men..."

Reno, Nevada is not the place one would imagine having a spiritual epiphany. But this morning I did. I woke up before sunrise and stared out the window to welcome the day. The view from my 17th floor room has been spectacular with the city below being surrounded by the Sierra Nevada mountains. The airport is to the right, and the downtown is to the left. My only regret is not having my family here to share it with me.

As I was looking out to the lights of the city in the pre-dawn hour I saw the usual array of twinkling yellow dots. Some were moving - cars on the freeway. Others were not. And as I looked out across the valley, one light stuck out above all the others:

The Golden Arches at McDonalds.

I thought to myself, "Of all the lights that I would notice. Aren't there any others?" I looked from side to side. To be sure, the intense lights of the casinos on S. Virginia Avenue - Peppermill, Atlantis - were there. But off to the east of the main street the only light that stuck out was that big yellow "M" on a pole.

As I write now, the sun has come up but not yet into the valley. I look back out to the Golden Arches and I can still find them quite easily. They must be 2-3 miles away (measuring by the airport runway). And I know that as the sun comes up they will be harder to see, but they will still be visible.

Matthew 5:14-16 reads, "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven."

Those Golden Arches are known the world over. They don't pretend to be plain, small, yellow dots to blend in with their surroundings. They don't sit on a short pole like the other streetlights. They stand tall on a pole designed to attract the attention of all passersby, on the streets and on the freeway. They accept the shape their designer made them to be. During the day, people can see them. At night, they stand out even more. And despite the unpopularity of their message, they stand tall and draw people not to themselves, but what they represent.

May we, as followers of Christ, fulfill our calling as the "Light of the world." May we not pretend to be anything other than what God made us to be, attracting a hurting and dying world to the love of our Designer. May we stand tall during the good times of "day" and even taller during the tough times of "night." And despite the unpopularity of our message, may we be faithful to our calling in Christ Jesus.

Retarded?

Last week, my wife and I went to the grocery store. As we walked through the parking lot I saw a young man (late teens to early twenties) with Down Syndrome walk out the door of the store. He was holding a stick with what appeared to be the last few strands of a pompon on the end. As he walked out he stared up in the sky with a wonder on his face that caught me wondering what had captured his attention. Was it the bright blue? Was it the shape of the clouds? His gaze was fixed as if he was looking at this wonder for the first time.

Moments later his mother came out the door behind him. As she put her arm around his shoulder his head turned and he gave her the biggest smile I'd seen in weeks. And it wasn't just a flash smile; his eyes locked hers for a good long time. In that moment his face communicated an intensity of love for his mother like there was nothing else on the earth that mattered, and he was soaking up every last drop of warmth from his mother's arm. Tears welled up in my own eyes and a lump formed in my throat as I felt blessed to witness this moment.

I think he got it right.

24 Hours in the Life of Khalaf: 18 October 2010

This is the first of an occasional series where I document a 24-hour period for you. Last week Monday. I was starting the second of two classes that I was teaching from my basement for students in Kuwait and Afghanistan. Because of this, I was up kinda early. Well, take a look:

0015h - It's 15 minutes after midnight and I have to be at "work" in 45 minutes. I roll out of bed, change into whatever clothes are laying around the bed that I can find and I turn on my computer monitor. I sign into the online class, go upstairs and down a bowl of cereal. A banana and an apple later and I'm done with breakfast.

0100h - "Good morning Kuwait!" It's "go" time and so far only 4 people are in class. The roster says there will be 17 students. I'll give them a few more minutes.

0120h - Up to 9 students; going to start anyways.

0430h - Lunch break. I'm having another bowl of cereal.

0530h - Right before class starts my beautiful wife surprises me with a plate of fruit and a warm mug of mint tea. Good thing too; the basement is kind of chilly. I think she's telling me she loves me and will gladly bring me fruit plates if I keep teaching from the basement. Maybe she wants to see me with pale skin...can't be - she hasn't seen "Twilight" yet. I think she likes it when I'm home.

0645h - I can hear a lot more footsteps upstairs; the kids are up and getting ready for school. Benjamin comes down and gets a shirt from his bedroom, my old office which I have taken over for these two weeks.

0740h - Samuel pops his head in the room. Fortunately the students are doing a lab exercise so we both get some Good Morning Hugs. Nice touch; definitely could get used to teaching from the basement.

1000h - Class is over for the day. I turn off my monitor and head upstairs. Kids are at school, Basma is at work. It's quiet. I think about eating something but I'm kind of tired. Eventually settle on another bowl of cereal.

1100h - Very sleepy; I go downstairs, turn off the lights in Benjamin's room and fall asleep. (Obviously I typed this after I woke up.)

1530h - Wake up to find people moving upstairs. Basma is preparing dinner. Juju is home and ready to pick the boys up from the bus stop.

1645h - Pick up Benjamin from football practice. He's a big, strong kid. I love him.

1730h - Eat dinner together. Basma leaves for school. I try to help kids with homework, but I feel like I'm in a perpetual state of jetlag.

1930h - Family Time: I round up the family in the living room where we read the Bible, pray for one another and talk about the day.

2030h - I half-heartedly send the kids to bed, reminding them that in less than 4 hours I have to wake up and go to work.

2031h - ZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzz........

0015h - Alarm on cell phone goes off: Day 2 of class

Minneapolis - Last Week In Review

Last week found me in Minneapolis again. This time I was on the northwest corner of the metroplex, near Maple Grove. It was nice to see another part of town, but I didn't make much effort to see the sites. Monday I drove around the shopping area there and wound up having dinner at, of all places, Dickey's Texas Bar-B-Q. The food was comforting and predictable, but the free soft-serve ice cream cone was a disaster. So I decided to push myself to go out Tuesday and explore downtown Minneapolis to see what I could see.

After class on Tuesday I headed downtown and parked on Hennepin Avenue between 10th and 11th Streets. There was a $2 after 5pm deal that made parking quite attractive. And since Hennepin Avenue is the Theater District, there would be plenty to see. But instead, I headed over to Nicollet Avenue and made my way up and down this pedestrian-friendly mall. First, I walked down to about 15th Street before making a U-turn and walking all the way up to where it ended at Washington Avenue. As I looked across Washington I saw the Mississippi River, and decided I had to at least walk up to the river.

By the time I made my way to the foot of the Hennepin Avenue Bridge I decided it would be fun to walk across the Mississippi and back. As I took in the lovely view of the flowing water and the vibrant cityscapes on both banks, I thought how remarkable it was that I could do this so effortlessly when the first people that lived here would consider it a major undertaking to cross by boat.

But before I could get all the way across the footpath left me on an island in the middle of the river. Nicollet Island is home to a number of attractions, not the least of which was the Nicollet Island Inn. This tony boutique hotel with 24 rooms has a long and interesting history. The building first housed a sash and door company, then a flour company. In 1913 it became a Salvation Army men's shelter until the 1970s. It has since been transformed into a rather attractive property, which I thought to explore. (OK, so I was hungry and thought I could get a decent dinner here. And I did.)

That week Minneapolis was having its Restaurant Week, where a bunch of haute cuisine establishments offered prix fixe menus for the Other Half to come in and find out what we've been missing. I thought to treat myself for one decent meal, and I was not disappointed. The salad with field greens was average, but the entree was fantastic. The pork chop served with a rice and lentils pilaf was perfectly tender and tasty. The 15-layer mocha cake wasn't too shabby for dessert either.

After dinner I walked across the bridge to the other side of the river before coming back along Hennepin Avenue. Walking through the Theater District at 8:00pm on a Tuesday night is not all that exciting, though there is still some people watching to be had.

I must confess that one night in downtown Minneapolis gave me a new admiration for the town. While the syllables "Minne-" conjure up a mental image of 10-foot snowdrifts and an absence of sun, the downtown was very pedestrian-friendly and a delight to explore on foot. There were more joggers out than I have seen in other downtowns, and many more were out on bike or on foot enjoying the pleasantly warm autumn evening that it was.

Alas, the rest of the week I confined myself to hotel rooms and little else. But for that one magical Tuesday, I was a carefree tourist.

Chattanooga Chew-Chew - The Week in Review

Last week I made a return trip to Chattanooga. The rolling hills around Lookout Mountain with the meandering Tennessee River make this one of the most scenic spots I've traveled to. Thanks to seasonal allergies I was feeling somewhat blah the whole week, with the worst of it on Monday. I spent each evening in the hotel room with no appetite for adventure beyond dinner, which I stopped for after class. I tried three different barbeque restaurants, but all they could do was make me long for the Whole Hog Cafe in Bentonville, Arkansas. Here's a quick rundown of each:

Sticky Fingers - At check-in the hotel clerk gave me a coupon for a free peach cobbler with purchase of entree. Of the different things I tried the best had to be the smoked chicken wings. These oversized wings were flavorful and smoked to perfection. I did not expect them to be as good as they were.

Hillbilly Willy's - With a name like that it was begging for a visit. The food was average, and the Coca-Cola Cake was nothing more than a very moist, very sugary chocolate cake. In fact, it was so sugary I could feel the sugar granules grinding in my teeth. This place is definitely a "once-in-a-lifetime" experience, and I've made my one trip.

Sugar's Big-Time BBQ - As I drove to and from the office each day, this establishment would beckon from a lookout point on the East Ridge just off the freeway. I finally caved and drove up. The first thing I noticed was the beautiful overlook of the valley that I had from the restaurant. I could see back to downtown, Lookout Mountain and the rest of the valley. While the food on the menu was average there were three items of note that I enjoyed. The mayo cole slaw (Tennessee also features a vinegar slaw) was seasoned just perfectly with a bit of black pepper. The wood-fired okra was quite tasty; not overdone, and the flavor of the wood accented the okra beautifully. And of all things, Sugar's offers lamb on their menu. I had to try it and, much to my delight, found that this was the best meat on their menu. Roasted over wood and served with no sauce, the lamb tasted almost as good as if it had come off the barbeque at home. A little salt and pepper and I was a very happy diner. If I were to have one more dinner in Chattanooga it would have to feature these three items.

This week - Minneapolis, Minnesota, but on the northwest side (Brooklyn Park). I'll have to find some place other than the Mall of America to hang out.