Pajamas Day

This morning as I sat on our leather couch in the living room, I yelled at a lady running by, "Lift YOUR legs!"

I'm still in my comfy, flannel snow globe pajamas.

I woke up not at the crack of dawn, but what seemed a reasonable hour to read the paper. Evander was up about 8A, we had some snuggle time on the couch, but just enough to cause severe sleepiness in me, and call a "do over" to waking up.

I rejoined the husband (notoriously a late sleeper) and pretended to be asleep until about 9:30A, too late for my George W. to make me coffee. It's 11:16A, and I guess I missed the barista boat (as if I'd make my own coffee).

I'm to "Part 2" of The Middle Place, and very much enjoying the read. Will share more later.

I am in the middle of eating the potatoes Evander helped me make using our corer/peeler/slicer.

 Although it is Sunday, all but Paul skipped church, as Emma had a sleepover guest still here from the night before. The girls joined me for potatoes, and then hurriedly dressed for their swim meet this afternoon. The other girl's mom arrived and volunteered for chauffeur services, including the return drive. But before I could reintroduce myself to the potatoes, Paul calls saying EK has invited us to breakfast after church.

EK and her family have just begun "attending" our church, so I couldn't figure out how she invited us over, just like that. Friends for ions, I was all teary last Sunday when she and her family, including her parents, sat a few rows in front of us. I love these dear people, so it was an honor for them to be at our strange little fellowship.

So, I didn't confess to Paul that I had a mouthful of potatoes, and gladly accepted the invite. What to wear? I will stay in my pajamas. 

Unplanned

It's interesting when one thinks they have a plan.

My plan for this week was to tackle some of the organization in the house, and get ready for my Mt. Hope Chronicles friends to come and play. 

Instead of being home, I was with my friend Bella caring for her after her accident.

 I am honored to be helping her, as I know she would do the same for me. It's more difficult for me to be away from the hospital, even though I know she's in good care. Perhaps it's that we're so used to sharing a good portion of our week together- teaching the kids, field trips, recounting our weekends, doing each others dishes, finding the chocolate stash, and on and on.

The year before last, I helped teach a Bible study to a group of girls, including Emma, on the subject of trials and sufferings. Now, I knew that teaching a group of middle school girls on such a topic was a risk, but I taught on it anyway. I felt I knew the subject well, yet it was hard to convey suffering when the girls were so young, and so loved. 

But perhaps this lesson was for me, again.

Looking Forward

I had looked forward to blogging about recent events it my life, when all of my events and seemingly important "stuff" in life has come to a screeching halt.

My last post(written a while ago, but posted today) said if  you wanted to know what I was doing, to check out my friend, Bella Art Girl's blog . 

When one experiences life in community,  we embrace great joys, and endure great sorrows. 

I am trying not to be in a fog right now, but that is how my body responds to such a blow. One of the closest friends is in such pain. It's difficult to write much more. I want to write much more. 

Please pray for my dear friend. She will need so much encouragement.

I will write a post if I can. I don't want the reality of the situation to be such, but I will only need to endure a minuscule fraction of what my friend is facing.

While I was in the emergency room with her I thought of one of the passages in the Bible where some friends of a crippled man tore open a roof and lowered him into a building where Jesus was teaching, so Christ could heal their friend. 

That's what I would like to do.

Facebook Frenzy

When my dear friend from Portland came down to spend the Labor Day weekend with our family, she introduced me to the world of "Facebook." Frankly, I'm not completely sure I know just exactly what it is, but I must say I'm a bit hooked. I abandoned my first Internet love, writing on my blog, for a competition with my husband to find friends on Facebook. I stopped watering the garden. I stopped cleaning the house. The "Dinner Fairy" doesn't even come to my house anymore. 

I can quit any time. 

Obsession is a strong word, but I don't believe I have even watched any television since I discovered this social phenomenon. Searching for old friends is such a blast from the past. All the names, and faces pop back into my memory. It's like this ongoing reunion of sorts, seeming to share, somewhat peering, somewhat observing. Wow!

So about this competition with Paul. It began entirely as a joke. He's mostly stolen all of my friends. I gladly share them in real life, but he's just over the top in stealing them from my Facebook page. 

I decided I will stop trying to find friends at 100 friends. That sounds like a good, round number. I haven't ignored any friends. I don't do that too much in real life.

 I do it though. I told myself, it was purely subconscious. I realized after church last week, that I had sought out a Facebook friend, and literally forgot the name of the person she was talking to, and interrupted them, as I wanted to greet my Facebook friend. 

I gave it some thought, and realized that it was very wrong of me to have ignored the other woman. Not only was it impolite to interrupt, I didn't go out of my way to be kind enough to her, as she was just as easily worth my attention even though she wasn't a Facebook friend. 

I've mentioned that I'm writing a book called, "Love Casserole" and I believe the Facebook phenomenon with be a part of the book, in that, this is something that is, and will affect our circle of friends, those who run in "Christian" circles, past, present, and as I'm recounting the past with others-may affect our relationships in the future.

Time Flies in a Good Way

I have to say, I very much enjoy having folks stay at our home, and this Labor Day weekend, a family of friends from Hillsboro stayed with us for three nights, as their Papa Bear was competing in a bicycling event over the weekend. The Mama Bear hung out with me most of the time with the kids at our house (We did get out for some coffee breaks). Spending time with her is quite easy, as our friendship has been going strong for over twenty years now. We stay in touch, and seem to pick-up where we left off with ease. We may not live in the same town, but I am glad that we are on this parenting/wiving/life journey at the same time. 

Lest I forget, as it was so Friday, Mama Bear and I meet EK  at the spa for a pedicure. What fun! We brought in food, and EK was our servant girl for a good portion of the time. I must say I enjoyed the laughter with these two friends. 

We then moved on to dinner at Cafe Lucky Noodle. Yummy Noodle, as always. Again, lots of fun with deep and meaningful conversation as well.

Sweet Emma was our babysitter while we enjoyed the spa, but overall the kids occupied themselves with Pokemon most of the weekend. They did explore our tree fort as well.

 On Saturday, we joined EK's family for a bike ride to Riverplay Park. It was quite the little bike train we had going through town, nine bikes and a bike trailer. Fortunately, I am the only one who sustained bicycling injuries. But my pride will not let me tell this part of the story with any details.

We stayed at the park at least a couple of hours, as the kids seemed to have a blast playing with each other on the play structure. Emma did not join us, as it seems she may be a bit playgrounded out at thirteen. We ate a picnic lunch, and the adults acted like cats sitting in the sun just soaking it up.

Thoughout the weekend, I made so much food, and ate so much food. Yes, I can cook-to some degree. We are a group of fairly healthy eaters, so I have many leftovers of all the food I cooked-with hopes that the leftovers do not to mold in the fridge. Perhaps I won't have to cook for a couple of weeks. 

The biggest treat of all this weekend was that we were able to have a reunion of sorts. Mama Bear, with another gal, (I'll call her Swong) was part of a group I took up to Malibu College Prep Week this time of year twenty years ago. We met here with another Sheldon Young Life friend, EK, and both their families. We ladies chatted it up, while the men folk tried to stay up with us...

Sometimes I've wondered if I did the right thing spending so much of my time with Young Life activities in college etc., But as we laughed and caught up on Sunday, I had this confident joy in knowing that it was time well spent.  The benefit is that now, we not only have a connection of being "Sisters in Christ," we have a history and longevity of friendship that will always hold these "girls" close to my heart. 

Wacky Weekend

Friday-Nancy and GMa volunteering at swim meet.

Free drinks at the new Dutch Bros. near our house for Paul and Nancy.

Kids with GMa for dinner and sleepover/pillow fight.

Saturday-Pick-up kids from GMa.

Make breakfast/bacon.

Van to karate.

Jungle removal.Tree house finishing?

Paul volunteering at swim meet. 

Nancy running away from bear. 

Nancy, Bunko at Grandma Judie's with Patty's peeps.

Sunday-Church-watching kids, eating watermelon.

Afternoon naps, talk of cleaning, finishing tree house? 

Volunteering as recycle lady and sir at swim meet.

Prince Pucklers as a reward for saving the Earth. 

Kids sleeping in tree house for the first time!

Did I miss anything?

Ready for a Shower

Wednesday night, as I was down to the wire expecting guests for a bridal shower that some church gals and I were hosting, I decided it would be a wonderful idea to make the beverage ahead time. Mind you, doing anything "ahead of time" is out of my party throwing character, as I am usually the last to arrive to any party I am hosting. The other helpers weren't there yet,  so I went ahead and made the "organic " lemonade in a pitcher, then put it into the punch bowl that my mother-in-law so graciously lent to me. 

I had previously asked the bride-to-be which sort of beverage she preferred, and it was raspberry lemonade. As I was making "organic" raspberry juice to add to the lemonade, I pulled off the plastic part that circles the top, yet it didn't quite do the job to open the can. I started murmmering about that darned "organic" juice, illogically thinking that the extra step to save the planet by buying an "organic" product must have made the container more difficult to open. Illogical conclusions aside, I knew full well that this fiddling was an accident waiting to happen. I gingerly maneuvered the top tin piece, hoping the lid would come off easily. Instead, as I pushed on the connecting part of the container, my false move was to push too hard to release the lid. A fountain of blood red juice flowed onto me, over me, behind me, and  below me, dripping off my clothes onto my shoes and onto the floor and cupboards. 

I was dripping and standing next to my towel drawer, but had to carefully reach for, and choose the towel I was willing to ruin. Yet, I had to act quickly because, I didn't want Evander to see his mother appearing as though she'd accidentally stabbed her innards using a knife the wrong way. 

I managed to do a cursory cleaning of myself before Van returned to the house, and was able to announce to him before he saw me, that I had covered myself in raspberry juice. 

Fortunately, I was wearing clothes I hadn't intended on wearing to the party. For documentational purposes, I kept wearing the evidence of said "organic" accident, as my friend Kris was to arrive shortly. 

She had asked yesterday if I was stressing about hosting the shower, I quickly poo-pooed the idea of being stressed, since I hadn't realized that, although I had casually been preparing for the shower, I truly hadn't grasped that I only had a few hours the next day to prepare my home for the onslaught of well wishers for the bride. 

I called her shortly before the shower, assuring the opposite of calm, and casually hinted for her to join me to ease my troubles. 

As I opened the door for Kris, the look on her face conveyed how frazzled my sweaty, tired, slightly sun burnt, juice soaked body appeared minutes before the shower. 

She was gracious enough to spot me by doing some dishes, adding lemons to the lemonade, and greeting the helpers and guest of honor, while I had my own private shower. 

K- Falls Education

A friend and I travelled to Klamath Falls on Monday morning to participate in a three day practicum through "Classical Conversations." I thoroughly enjoyed myself, but using this forty-something brain beyond the norm, is well-out of the norm for me. 

First, although I claim to be the consummate traveller, I have only passed through Klamath Falls maybe twice. Although it has amazing lakes, the town is a bit sprawled out, and we found it difficult to find it's epicenter. 

I did not snap any photos, as my friend and I filmed a "Momumentary" soon to be coming out in theatres near you. 

When I find the cord to the video camera, I'll upload some of the film's raw footage. 

Meanwhile, here's a taste of what I did during the practicum...

July 1, 2008
I am in Klamath Falls Oregon, in a strip mall style church, in a darkened, stuffy chapel, participating in a parent practicum through “Classical Conversations,” watching a DVD of a guy teaching writing instruction. I don't have the material that is being referenced to during his talk, so I feel a bit out of the loop. I am excited to help teach my children this fellow's techniques, but I have missed something. I was late to the viewing yesterday, so I may have missed some info. given out then. It's just that the young lady at the Starbucks worked rather slowly, thus, my being late to the seminar. Not my fault.
I'm just too embarrassed or proud to say I don't have the reference material. Not the instructors fault.
Our family is enrolled in a program called, “Classical Conversations” where “tutors” “model” various subjects such as Latin, Spanish, mock trial, and writing. I am thrilled to begin this program, and excited to educate my children in more of a community setting.
Unlike my HomeSource experience, I am to be more involved in the classroom. I did not want to be a tutor during this upcoming school year, as we are unsure of what our plans our for Emma and high school.
I'd love to say I have a clear definition of a “classical” education. It has to do with something call the trivium, as this program teaches at the level of grammar, rhetoric, and logic. Perhaps I will have a better understanding a year from now. 

The titles of the subjects that are to be offered at Classical Conversations sound intellectually stimulating for both myself and the children. The book list looks appealing, perhaps I'll read a book.
Although the setting in the church may not be an ideal academic setting, a philosophy of learning is being conveyed that I appreciate. This belief is along the lines that our becoming educated is to be a form of worshipping God. Again, I'm just putting this worldview together, and don't have a complete picture, or definition of what this looks like, and may only ever have pieces of this idea of "worship."  
I have spent only a small amount of time studying the idea of what it means to “worship” God, but again, I haven't pulled the ideas together. It's enthralling to be introduced to this something new to me. This becoming educated and reflecting what we've learned towards God and His glory is surprisingly joyful. I look forward to explore more of these ideas.

A Worthy Investment

It's Sunday. I don't have a definition of the perfect Sunday. Right now, I'm trying to do nothing. But doing nothing takes a great amount of effort. 

We started the day with our turn for childcare at church. Paul and I read a story from Matthew about the man who sold all his possessions for a treasure he'd found in a field. Jesus seems to be comparing this to how we ought to live in regards to pursuing His righteousness as the treasure. This story came to mind as I had spent time at my old Young Life leader's house on Saturday. My Young Life leaders introduced this story long ago, and taught me that the treasure wasn't within myself, or wasn't about myself, or meeting my own needs, but that the most valuable treasure, or even fulfillment, came only from what treasures God could give/be in our lives.

Our friends' beautiful and artistic daughter, Rachel, graduated from my old alma mater, GO SCOTS! These photos remind me of photos we'd take of the kids when they were little. 

I also think of the Dr. Seuss book, "Oh the Places You'll Go!"

Kickin' In Forty Part II

 Sunday night, the last night of forty, my husband threw together a party for me.  I did not feel the need for a party, as we had a great fortieth birthday party last year. But, I certainly enjoyed myself. 

After having invited Auntie Patty to cook for me, she volunteered to make the main dish for the party. I just supplied the somewhat clean house. 

At one point in the evening, I realized how blessed we must be. I looked out the upstairs window to see that we had about a dozen kids running around the backyard, screaming, chasing, giggling and playing with happy hearts. That is a blessing our family very much enjoys. We have a wonderful community of friends and I am thankful for all the joy that comes with it. Not much could top such birthday gifts!

Photo with love from Bella Art Girt

Kickin' In Forty

Saturday night, our family went out to dinner at Cafe Lucky Noodle. As we began our dinner, I surveyed my family about what they thought were the highlights of my 4oth year. 

I would describe the highlights of the year with a letter already written-our last year's Christmas letter, but part of the letter is missing, as it was never sent. Whatever it was I did before April of last year is gone forever. I guess if I thought really hard, I could come up with it...but here is the text that was saved, seeming to start from the Half Marathon 2007...

my iPod, and Elsa. Elsa did cross the line first, thus beating me (I let her win).

Paul and I celebrated our 40th birthday, together in May. It was a harried day, with so much excitement in seeing friends, and gratitude for years and years of encouragement. My sister, Chris, was my heroine, jumping in and helping with getting the food ready. She and my brother-in-law were also there for emotional support as my father was in the hospital and the rest of the family at his bedside.

I spent the day of my birthday with some of my dear girlfriends. My friend Erin had an itinerary of fun planned throughout the day. The highlight of the day was when my friends met each other for the first time, and then it seemed like they were long lost friends by the end of the night.

My father died two days after my fortieth birthday. Our family spread his ashes at an old fishing hole where the Calawash and Clackamas rivers run together. There, my sister-in-law Lindsay has planted a tree in memory of Bob Davidson, so if you get a chance to water the tree...

We began our Summer with close friends vacationing in Port Townsend, WA at Fort Warden State Park. These dear friends were great listeners in helping me process my grief. Not many people would be interested in spending their vacation time doing such, but these folks are exceptional saints.

Summer seemed somewhat long, as grief can stretch out the days. But I found an outlet for the grief in training for and running the Hood to Coast relay. Whoa! I ran the studder producing, imfamous first leg, running downhill from Timberline Lodge to Government Camp.

We finished our Summer and began our Fall with three trips to southern California. Paul's work led him to California, spending most of October moving Symantec's QA lab into the Culver City site. We visited with Haley Hoffmeister and her sweet boys, who live in Fullerton. We were at Universal Studios three days, Legoland two days and Knott's Berry Farm one day. We did take some short visits to the beach, as Paul stayed in an apartment close to Venice Beach. This gave the kids and I an opportunity to rollerblade at the beach, picnic and watch the surfers. One of our trips to SoCal was with a friend and her boys. The photo with the boys in on Mailbu beach, about a week before the California fires. The rollerblading photo was taken at the peak of the San Diego fires, so you might notice the haze.

Other highlights of the year include: our trip to Sunriver; the last family picnic at Roslyn Lake; Cape Lookout;  Jim Brown's raging 40th birthday party; and Bud and Kes' visit (Hey, Bud, did you ever hear of the world's greatest joke book?).

December is almost over. It's been a year to remember that's for sure. I am grateful, and yet not as humble as I should be. I have a loving husband of eighteen years, beautiful children, a caring family, and constant friends. I go into this next year remembering the quote a friend gave me, "O God of second chances and new beginnings, here I am again."

The Quest to Conquer the Butte to Butte Hill

On Saturday, a friend and I ran the "Butte to Butte" hill. This hill is about a one mile gradual climb to the top. After huffing and puffing my way up, I took a break before the downhill, and broke into Professor Pindell mode. My friend was kind enough to listen to my explanation of the technique I learned about running downhill. This technique is such that while going downhill, one puts their head forward slightly, while having a quick turnover of the legs. This turnover is much faster than the traditional long stride, where it seems you're actually trying to break, or slow your legs down. Well, I followed the technique, and I flew down the hill. Hence, I will call this technique The Roadrunner.

What I discovered in this run, is that if  I let gravity lead the way, and let go of the fear that I might fall, I truly enjoy the experience. 
That was Saturday, and today is Thursday. I ran up the "Spyglass" hill today, huffing and puffing to the top. I didn't take a break, still huffing and puffing on the downhill. I used The Roadrunner on this hill, and it seemed scary fast. It was clearly a steeper hill. Lesson learned: My experience is that every day is a different running day for me. I kinda like this, as I wouldn't want to get bored. 
Oh, and why would such a post be interesting to anyone but me? I guess I'm wanting to express how joyful running can be, not just that I'm crazy. It's not particularly easy for to get out there and "Just Do It".

 I also ask myself about the "God' connection to running. For me, it's mostly that I CAN do it. That I, for some reason have been given the legs, and lungs etc., that get me up and down the hill, and am grateful for that, even though it is not always easy. 

I also like the camaraderie I have with whomever I am running, as we often discuss ideas regarding Christianity and Christian community. I also take time to mull over "ideas" in my head, otherwise known as cogitating.   During a run I often talk to God, but not out loud- as if I want to live up to my Crazy Aunt Nan reputation.

Love Is What Matters

Today, I am lying in the hammock and reflecting on the past two days...

Emma and I just spent some time reading outside in gorgeous weather. This school year, she and I have been reading, "Anne Frank The Diary of a Young Girl". There is so, so much life in this book. I am moved by this life. The "realness" of her writing puts me, as the reader, right next to her in the annex.

I wish I could say I have put all my thoughts together after reading this book, but there is so much that comes to mind when reading an entry to her diary, so I will only share some of my scattered thoughts. Like today, one of the passages we read reflected a day, weather wise, that was probably similar to this day, however Anne didn't have the frivolity of such leisure time. She was not free.

Also, reading this book, I am presented with the dichotomy of  Anne's angst/imprisonment, and the freedom that we experience as modern Americans.
One of the more remarkable things about Anne was at her age, she is more educated than I will ever be.
There is so much richness to this story she tells, yet she did not live to tell her story. Her story is a short story, on which I have spent some time cogitating and having an ongoing "discussion" with God.
...................................

Yesterday, after the half marathon, my husband graciously made the "Breakfast of Champions" with the help of my sister-in-law Patty, and my mother-in-law Judie.

Fellow half-marathoners Heidi and Maricel joined me and our respective fan clubs for breakfast.

 I'm hoping the pictures of folks spread throughout the house will tell the story, but what they won't say is that this race is a reminder of my pre-forty experience of self evaluation and self reflection that lead me to the conclusion that my life is to be about gratitude, foremost, to God and to all the magnificent gifts He gives me each and every day.

At one moment as I sat amongst my friends chatting about this and that, I had an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for these friends being the love and support that is here for me, big race or not. My eyes got a bit teary, and I noticed the song that was playing the the background. It was a Carrie Underwood song (Yes, sounds so "pop" of me) entitled, "So Small". The lyrics of the chorus are so true,

"Sometimes that mountain you've been climbing
Is just a grain of sand
What you've been out there searchin for forever
Is in your hands
Oh, When you figure out love is all that matters after all
It sure makes everything else
Oh it sure makes everything else
Seem so small"

Where Was I?

Back to Thursday...

In the evening, Grandma Judie offered to take the kids as it was a Samfest over at her place. I was itching to go enjoy the sunshine outdoors with my husband for the evening. We settled with dinner at the North Bank, since we haven't had a hankerin' for their food and beverage for quite a while. I run on the path next to the restaurant frequently, and I wanted a good seat by the river to actually enjoy the view, instead of just huffing and puffing my way by the Blue Herons. 

It turned out to be a lovely evening, actually a bit romantic even. We sat outside at a table next to an outdoor fireplace. This was reminiscent of those college days at High Street visiting with Charley Dewberry and chatting up about philosophy and such. We were seated near a group of those younger 20/30 somethings who didn't have any kids with them. They reminded us of those ancient days with friends-carefree, outdoorsy types imbibing, when friendships were golden.

Friday, we began the grand clean-up at our place. I was able to accomplish much in the yard, continuing to move the gigantamous lavender to the backyard. Emma did a great job of cleaning the inside of the house, once she realized she had accidentally lost a recent gift from Auntie Patty. A special ring was missing from her finger which Patty had given to her on her 13th birthday. Well, Emma was distraught, but motivated to clean in order to find the ring. After a couple of hours, I began cleaning my room, when Paul noticed the ring on my floor. It was a great find.

Saturday, was the most georgous day of the year yet, and was the day I signed up for the Eugene Half Marathon. I was put to ease by the director of the race, that I wouldn't need to run 10 miles in Florida (I don't think I've mentioned that "travelin' nan" is headed to FL). He seemed to think if I get that long run done before I go, I'd be good to go before the race. O' Happy Day.

Emma and I shared some "Love Casserole" by attending a baby shower down the street at a dear friend's house. A fabulous idea was implemented, in that, one of the gal's gifts was some cloth diapers which the shower guests then embroidered. Remember my mention of my  mechanical skills? This applies to the Domestic Arts as well. With much focus, I was able to "stitch" out a heart on one of the diapers. 

 I had walked home to retrieve my camera to take pics for the shower, when Paul asked about the whereabouts of the dog which we were sitting. We then came to the conclusion that in the midst of the transitions, the dog had sought her freedom. The boys took to the streets in search of the dog, while I returned to the shower, with thoughts of the lost dog looming over me. I didn't stay much longer, (long enough for cake) then began to search the neighborhood  for the little black lab. While I was near the end of my search loop, a call to Paul revealed that Van said that the dog's tag had the owner's number on it. We concluded that if found, someone would call this number. Minutes later, Paul called to say that our next door neighbor had the dog. Lost ring, lost dog, oh the drama, in these the days of our lives...

Sunday, we went to church, came home long enough to make a sandwich, then Van and I were off to cheer on my favorite godson, Evander's best friend, at his baseball game. Not only was he so handsome in his uniform, he made some great plays that made me quite proud to know the kid. Evander chatted up the bench, and seemed to enjoy encouraging the players. At the end of the game, he somehow finagled a Butterfinger candy bar from the Snack Mom.  I was privileged to enjoy Erin's yumolicious Rice Krispie treats.

We made it through the rest of the day, without losing anything. I think.

Love Casserole

At Christmas, my husband bought me a MacBook, specifying that I could now write the book I had talked about writing for years. Since then, I have mulled over ideas, asked more questions of others, and thus began the writing process. Well,  Love Casserole is the title of the book that I am really writing. I've thrown the title around for a while amongst my group of friends. We'd be in conversation, and I would often interject, "That would be a part of the book I haven't written yet, you know Love Casserole".  It seems as though I have "interviewed" many of my friends these past few years. I would ask them about their experience at the church they attend, and the interactions they may have with others in their congregation, teachers, etc.,  perhaps I was digging for answers for the "Utopian" church.

 Right now, this book will be sort of a combination of my Christian journey and ideas I have about living in Christian "community". I want my experience to be known, in that, I believe that "beliefs" are formed in part by our experience, and that "authorial intent" is influenced by our experiences and beliefs. Hence, the reader will have some information about how I came up with the thoughts/ideas of what I thinks works in community.

So why the book? I see a need to encourage each other to live our lives in pursuit of God's righteousness. We live in a world that is more interested in survival of the fittest, rather than the idea of "Loving Thy Neighbor as Thyself" that Christ taught. Perhaps the idea of the book emerged out of the frustrations I have with my own church "body". Perhaps this book writing is to remind me of how great a community it is in which I live.