checking back in

It's time to check back in after a hiatus of several weeks.  After losing two friends in quick succession, life became rather hectic when we launched our first Saturday evening service for the Journey Church Bailey Campus.  We held our second service last night, and though our learning curve is rather steep we're all excited about what lies ahead.  Daphne, Gwyn and I are still the only full-time staff for the Bailey campus.  We need God to raise up a worship leader and a youth pastor soon, as most of our volunteers are my age or older (ie, wise, mature, and "seasoned").  We are passionate to reach the youth in Bailey, but we need an influx of young blood.  God knows.

After almost four weeks of waiting and (unsuccessfully, in my case) learning to be patient, we are about to get the permit to rebuild the floor in the country store.  God has provided much of the lumber and materials we'll need to build it - which is in itself ironic; the donations only came a week ago, so even if we'd had the permit to build we would not have been able to do the work.  The Lord knew all this, and while every impatient bone in my body has popped out of joint over the past 30 days, He was working behind the scenes to provide what we need.

After preaching the past two Saturdays I am gaining a new appreciation for the challenge that Michael faces every single week to come up with a new sermon from a fresh perspective.  I find it very difficult to set aside even a few focused hours to think, pray and write... and I have only a fraction of the responsibilities that he does.  I can only imagine how much harder this will be once we start working on the remodel of the store!  I'm already A.D.D on my best days, so throw in a very enticing and long-awaited building project and ... yikes.  I still have one gainormous problem:  I depended completely on Mark's know-how and passion for this project, and now he's gone.  The Lord must have someone else waiting in the wings to fill Mark's very big shoes.  I wonder who it is?

A Grief Observed

They were both dear friends.  I'd known Bud for a little over two years.  Mark, for only two months.  Bud was 80, and his death was not unexpected given the extent of his cancer.  Mark was only 56, and none of us were ready for him to die.

I met Bud and his wife Bev after Bev's single car accident on hwy 285.  She had apparently blacked out on the road and ended up in a drainage ditch - disoriented and unaware of how close she'd come to death herself that day.  I drove her home, met Bud (who I immediately liked) and decided that this "chance" encounter was arranged from above.  For the past two years I've visited them on their 40 acre spread every other week or so to fill up their firewood shed, fix a tractor tire, unclog the fish pond drain - whatever needed doing.  Or we would just sit and chat over a bottle of Coors (Bud had been a career Coors employee).  Bud was in poor health when I met him - multiple cancers, knees that had long since given out after 30+ years of climbing on and off of Coors trains... a shadow of the larger-than-life man he'd once been.  After several weeks of emergency room visits and hospital stays, Bud seemed to just give up.  I was with him on the Friday that the hospice staff arrived.  On Monday morning the hospice nurse went in to check on him and her eyes were drawn to the window by a pre-dawn shooting star streaking across the sky.  When she turned back to Bud, he was gone.  Bev wants the service to be held at the Kingdom Hall, since she is a devout Jehovah's witness.  The only date the elder could give her was this coming Saturday-  three weeks after Bud's death, and while I am out of the country for a crisis management training.  No family members allowed to speak, no music, no slideshow.  I offered the daughters the use of the country store to hold their own service for family and close friends, and to plan it the way they wanted.  They agreed, and we arranged it for yesterday (Sunday) afternoon. 
___________________________

Mark and Jaime started coming to our weekly meetings down in Bailey two months ago.  Their daughter Missy invited them, and even though they live here in Conifer they came to our Wednesday evening service with her... and just kept coming back.  Mark has been my right-hand man in planning the new floor in the store.  He drew the floor plans up himself,  and on his own contacted Home Depot to challenge them to help us with donated lumber and materials.  We worked, and painted, and fixed stuff together - and all this while they're in the middle of building an addition on their own home!   In a very short time I grew to love both Mark and Jaime; it doesn't take long to build a friendship when you share a common heart and the same vision.
___________________________

Yesterday I was on my way to church the phone call came:  Mark, my new friend, had died during the night.  What??  That's not possible!  He wasn't even sick!  There must be some mistake!  I turned around and raced to their house.  Jamie and the kids were all in a state of shock.  Oh my God - this can't be happening!  We had so much to do together, and Mark was such an integral part of everything.  What in the world will I do without him?  What will Jaime and Missy and her brothers do without him?  In one night their entire lives are turned upside down - and with no time to prepare for life without Husband, and Dad, and Grandpa.  We wept, and wept, and wept.  What words can a pastor possibly give at such a time as this?  My own grief after losing a second, dear friend left me emotionally numb.

Sometime in the blur of yesterday morning I remembered that I had a memorial service to do for Bud at 2 pm.  I left Jaime and the family and drove back to Bailey, and with the help of two wonderful friends got the room cleaned up and ready just about the time Bud's family started arriving.  Only then did it hit me that I hadn't prepared ANYTHING to say, and I'm supposed to lead the service.  I prayed a quick SOS prayer, got up in front and totally winged it.  God must have somehow made sense of the nonsense that came out of my mouth, because they all said it was wonderful. 

Now, this morning, the reality of yesterday's events is beginning to hit me.  Daph and I are heading back over to visit with Jaime and Missy and the family, then she'll drive me to the airport for my flight to Frankfurt.  This is going to be an interesting week.

Makeup on a Redneck Woman

Before

During 

We're moving ahead with our plans for the Bailey Country Store and Sasquatch Outpost Coffee House.  We have almost all our paperwork ready to submit for our remodel permit, and then (by faith) we'll be off.  I managed to convince the building inspector to allow us to paint the exterior of the building (he wasn't going to allow us to do anything on the building at all until we have our remodel permit) because we wanted to give the high school kids a community service project to do for Kindness Day.  20 kids showed up, and we painted the whole lower part of the outside of the building... and what a difference a coat of paint makes!  A couple of other men and I finished up the upstairs paint job a few days later, but the old lady kinda looks good!  I told the guys when we were painting the upper part that it felt like putting makeup on a Redneck woman.. but hey, when you need it, use it!  The final effect
is pretty impressive.  We've already had people come by to shop, thinking that we're open.

This whole adventure of starting a country store and coffee house has proven to be one of the biggest faith challenges I've ever faced.  I thought we were living by faith the whole time we were serving overseas, but now that I look back on those years I realize we weren't really living by faith at all.  We had a team of very faithful supporters, and for 20 years we honestly never lacked a thing.  Fund raising was always a challenge, but God was

Painting the letters for the new store sign

faithful and our staff account was never in deficit even once during all those years.  Those days of relative financial security are long gone however, and we find ourselves trusting God on a daily basis to provide not only for our own financial needs, but for the funding to complete the renovation of the store, stock it with groceries, pay the bills etc.  There's a principle here that I am only now beginning to understand: as long as we had a healthy bank balance and plenty of financial support,  I never really gave much thought to trusting God.  Now we're forced to trust Him on a daily basis, and this reality has pushed us far beyond the edge of our comfort zone.  But out here in the "trust zone" we're learning that God is always faithful and always has our back.  As Christians we will always pray things like, "Lord, help me to trust you more" - not realizing, of course, that He will do just that!  So my prayer has changed to, "Lord, help me to REST in your promises today no matter what may happen because you are always trustworthy." 

The final effect.  We only need to add the sign for the Sasquatch Outpost coffee house

Keep the fire burning

I lit our wood stove upstairs for the first time this season.  It's not really cold yet - maybe in the upper 30's outside - but maybe the warmth of the stove will give Nicole and Jacqueline a little more motivation to get up and going today.  It won't be long before the first snow falls, and the aspens are already blazing on the mountainsides - patches of brilliant yellow and orange that pop out among the evergreens.  I think Daphne and I will take Gwyn for a drive up to Kenosha pass this afternoon where the entire side of the mountain is on fire with aspen trees.  It's a sight you'll never forget.

 I was awake again early this morning, lost in my own thoughts.  The work on the country store has been stalled for two weeks now as we work on gathering the necessary paperwork to apply for the remodel permit.  I can tell that our little church team is beginning to drop their arms, and we're losing the excitement that we all felt when we first leased the building.  How do we keep everyone engaged when there's nothing we can work on together?  If we could at least be painting it would help, but the inspector won't allow ANY work on the building until we have the permit.  Dan is building our log furniture, but he's also feeling discouraged because he's working alone the majority of the time.  I would love to help him more, but I'm preoccupied with finding a contractor, an engineer and an asbestos inspector who will work with us on a pro bono basis; not an easy task in a depressed economy when everyone needs all the work they can get.  I'm finding that it's a balancing act to keep the team engaged in Bailey, stay engaged myself with my own family, and stay in touch with our church team here in Conifer.  Yesterday Daphne and I went to look at a log home that's for sale in Bailey - right down the street from where we used to live on Tincup Terrace.  It's a beautiful home on 10 acres of land with a magnificent view of Mt Rosalie, and the price is amazingly reasonable.   If it were just she and I we would move in heartbeat.  But we have three girls who have ties to Conifer, and I can't see us moving at least until after Nicole graduates. 

While I'm writing this, Duke has his head on the armrest - looking up at me with his big, sad, Labrador eyes.  I know it's his breakfast time, but I pretend like I don't know what he wants.  After about a minute he will stick his head over my keyboard to keep me from typing.  If that doesn't work he climbs half-way up on my recliner - which is as far as he can fit - and then he stares at me from six inches away.   The more I ignore him, the closer he'll get to my face till I finally give in.  He won't leave me alone until I get him what he wants...  

Bailey Big Brother

I love the town and the people of Bailey.  Tucked away in a valley, surrounded by beautiful wooded mountains, with the Platte River running right through town - it's an absolutely gorgeous setting.  I also love that this is a real community where everyone knows each other by their first name, and where people really help each other out.  We are here to stay, and God is going to build a brand new community of people - many of whom are still far from Him today. We want to bless Bailey by re-opening an historic country store, and create a space where people can not only buy groceries without having to drive 15 miles away, but where they feel loved and cared for at the same time.

 If I'm really honest, however, some days I feel like I'm living in a small town episode of the Twilight Zone - eyes peering out of every shuttered window, glaring at the "newcomer".  Call me paranoid, but I know for a fact that someone, or several people, watch everything that we do in or around the store - looking for some reason to report us to the authorities.   As of yesterday afternoon, we are now shut-out of the building for which we have a legal lease.  But to explain the bizarre nature of how we ended up here, I need to go through the chronology of events. 

1. Last Wednesday:  We were paid a visit by the county building inspector.  He blessed us with a red tag Notice of Violation because we did not have a permit to remodel the store.  He cited - as his rationale that we are remodeling - the fact that "shelves were moved around" and "there are things that were here that aren't here now".  I guess permits are required if a tenant wants to throw away garbage and scrap old fridges and freezers.  As he left, John said that he'd already received three phone calls about us that day (complaints) that prompted him to come by.  He also casually mentioned that his sister-in-law owns the coffee shop across the road.  Hmmm... we're also trying to open a coffee shop. 

2.  Two hours later:  A deputy sheriff pulled up, saying that he'd received a call that "people are in the building".  We talked for a few minutes, and turns out he's a big fan of the Journey Church - so ended that conversation.  He agreed that we had every right to be in the building

3.  Two days later, county building inspector comes by again - this time because I was showing my men's group around the store after breakfast.  "Got a complaint that you have a work crew in here".  Work crew?? What - do you just hang out down the street and wait for a complaint?  He's the only inspector in all of Park County, but he always seems 5 minutes away.

4.  Last Wednesday: I'm trying to fix the fuel pump on my truck and i get a call from the State Health Inspector - stating that they'd had a complaint about the sign in the store window: "Free Asbestos - inquire within".  "It's a joke" I said.  Apparently, the State of Colorado has no sense of humor.  He looked through the window and determined that we "likely" have a major asbestos spill - and wrote up an inspection report.

5.  Next day:  My favorite county building inspector shows up yet once more, saying he'd received a complaint that there are people in our building.  "The State Health Inspector says no one can be in this building".  Another call to the health inspector:  yes, your building is a veritable toxic waste zone, and you have to vacate.  Wow, all this based on hearsay and rumors, and zero proof that we even have any asbestos at all.  I call him back and leave a message:  I want a list of all the businesses in this community that you've shut down based on heresay and rumors."

6.  Yesterday:  State health guy returns my call and backs off of his "vacate the building" statement.  "I'm just concerned about the safety of everyone involved.  You've got a serious asbestos risk there."  All the current research states that it takes 15-20 years of occupational exposure to friable asbestos to contract mesothelioma.  But according to Park County and the State of Colorado, one whiff and you're as good as dead. 

So, Gwyn and I moved our office supplies back into the country store.  We'll both be working in Has-mat suits and respirators until further notice.

My latest sign in the window of the store:  "We are grateful to our county building inspector and our state health inspector for helping us to be both safe and legal in our remodeling.  To all other concerned Bailey residents: we've already contacted the CIA, FBI and NSA to keep them informed of our progress... just in case you're wondering."

Finding Bigfoot... in Bailey

On Saturday night I made my debut on national television.  Well, sort of.  There have been so many reported sightings of Bigfoot in this part of the front range of the Rockies in recent months that the Animal Planet show "Finding Bigfoot" came to Bailey to film an episode of the show here.  They always start by organizing a town hall meeting to hear stories from eye-witnesses, or those who have either heard vocalizations or seen footprints. I found out about the meeting from a friend who (along with another woman) both saw a Sasquatch at the end of May this year.  They were close enough to see the color of the hair, and they estimated that it was at least 7 feet tall.  Anyway, I digress.  When we found out that Animal Planet was going to film this for national TV, we quickly printed some t- shirts with the name of our (as yet unopened) coffee shop: The Sasquatch Outpost.  I also rushed to finish the life-size cutout of a Sasquatch that we plan to put on the outside of our building to advertise the coffee shop so I could bring it to the filming.  We arrived at the location of the meeting an hour and a half early, and the parking lot was already almost full.  I went and talked with one of the producers of the show, and told him that I'd brought a Sasquatch cutout if they were interested in putting it up somewhere for fun.  The Squatch is holding a sign that says, "I do not believe the evidence supports the existence of humans. signed, Sasquatch".  He consulted with the executive producer, and they gave me the O.K., thinking they could use if for some B shots.  Well, it was a big hit, and I was able to get a couple of members of the cast - Bobo and Cliff - to pose next to the Squatch cutout.  In the end, the producer loved it and he had the cast walk past it going in to the hall for the opening of the episode.  Hopefully it will be shown when the episode airs sometime in March! 
     There were 15 or 20 people who came forward as witnesses, and the filming took over 2 hours (which they'll probably edit down to 10 minutes).  It was a lot of fun, and maybe we'll get some free advertising for the coffee shop when "Finding Bigfoot" puts Bailey on the map.

Me and Bobo with my Sasquatch cutout

Another cast member Cliff with the big guy.  Cliff is a genuinely nice guy, and he offered to advertise our coffee shop on his website!

Some of the crowd waiting for the show to start.  Our friend Gwyn came with me - she's on the front row with her friend, both wearing our green Sasquatch Outpost T-shirts.  We got some great advertising, and maybe all three of us will be on national TV!

The cast at the end of the filming. 

The Sawtooth

From the first time I climbed Mount Bierstadt and looked down on the Sawtooth ridge leading over to Mount Evans, I knew I had to climb it.  Maybe it's because there's an inherent risk involved (a woman was killed earlier this summer climbing the same route), or it's the challenge to be overcome, or just so I can say that I did it.  My friend Brian had already done the double-peak Bierstadt to Evans route, so I convinced him to come with me.  It was only once we reached the top of Bierstadt that he casually informed me that it was 20 years ago, and that he wasn't quite sure of the route.  But for Brian that's all part of the adventure and the challenge.  If you know everything about where you're going, then what's left to figure out?  The whole route took us eight hours, and it was an absolute trip for me.  One quick story:  we were taking a break about halfway along the Sawtooth when a small fixed-wing plane flew up the valley in front of us about 2000 feet up, and disappeared over the ridge behind us.  I figured it was some tourists who wanted to see the mountains.  About five minutes later I nearly pooped my pants when the same plane came roaring back over the ridge above us - only this time it was only 50 feet above the rocks.  The pilot dove straight for the floor of the valley, and Brian and I watched in sheer horror thinking he was on a suicide mission and was going to plow straight into the lake at the bottom.  At the very last second - and I mean LAST second - he pulled up and dropped something into the lake, then regained altitude and flew back down the valley.  Only then did we realize what he was doing; he was stocking the high altitude lake with fish!  Wow!  What a trip!  I would have given anything to have been in the passenger seat for that thrill ride!  I probably WOULD have pooped my pants, but it would have been totally worth it.  Hmmm - I think I'll give the Colorado division of wildlife and fisheries a call...

Anyway, here is the photographic and video tour of our (at times) hair-raising climb.

Our goal at sunrise - the Sawtooth ridge between Mt Bierstadt & Mt Evans

Sunrise behind us as we climbed up Bierstadt

Me, at the summit of Bierstadt - complete with sunscreen smeared on my face

Brian at the summit, enjoying his frozen burrito (??)

A Ptarmigan - nearly perfect camouflage

This is the route we followed, more or less.  This was taken from the summit of Bierstadt

A Window to the world halfway across the Sawtooth

I was freaking out at this point, and Brian kept saying - "focus on the right side!"

The route we climbed, starting at the summit of Mt Bierstadt

The last, scary section of the climb to reach the plateau on top.

Mountain goats on the way down from Mt Evans

How to build a church

The article below was published in the local newspaper The Flume on Friday morning this past week.  News travels fast in a small community like Bailey, and our plans to re-open the country store is big news.  Below is an excerpt from the front page article:

 

Posted: Friday, August 31, 2012 2:27 pm

Debra Orecchio, Correspondent | 

The Journey Community Church has leased the Bailey Country Store building at 149 Main St. in Bailey and plans to open a general store and small coffee shop as soon as some renovations are completed. Jim Myers, senior pastor for the Bailey campus of the Conifer-based church, said there will also be a small food bank that will operate out of the building and some offices upstairs, but there are no plans to hold any church services in the building. The Bailey campus consists of just a small group of about 20 to 25 people in Bailey, said Myers, and they will be working as the launch team getting the store ready. The Bailey campus is an extension of the church that meets in Conifer, he said. The congregation in Conifer is made up of around 800 members.  Myers could not give a date of when the store and coffee shop will be open.  “We’re still figuring out what needs to be done,” he said.
All the work will be done by volunteers. There will need to be some painting done as well as some work on the floor and rebuilding the sign; those are just some of the main things that will need to be done before the store can open. There are other smaller projects that can be done over time, he said, but they don’t have to be done in order to open.
He declined to give the details of the lease agreement.
Lynn Griffin, who owns the building with her husband, Dennis Griffin ... purchased the building in August 2010; it was vacant when they purchased it, she said. She did not know how long it had been vacant prior to that.  According to the Nov. 26, 2010, Flume, Denver-based American National Bank began foreclosure proceedings on the building in late 2008. At that time, the building was 130 years old, and it was owned by Eric and Barbara Keto, who bought the building in 2005. It housed the Bailey Country Store, which was operated by Eric Keto...  They were hoping that someone would come in and put a grocery store back in the building, said Lynne Griffin earlier this week. Their goal was to bring businesses back to Bailey, to give people places to have jobs and grow the community.
“I just think they’re a really hard-working group of people,” Griffin said. “We’re happy to have them as a tenant.”
Employees in the store will be volunteers, said Myers. Profits from the store will be used for expanding the church ministry as well as helping the community.
Myers said his heart is in Bailey because it was where he and his wife, Daphne Myers, first moved when they came to Colorado three years ago.
“The store and the coffee shop [are] a way of getting to be part of this town,” he said.
He wants the store to be somewhere that people will be able to grab the things they need and not have to go down the hill to metro Denver. He also wants it to be a place where the youth in Bailey will have a place to hang out.
“We love Bailey and can’t wait to get this up and running,” Myers said. “The sooner the better.”
He’s excited about all the buzz in the community about the store starting up again.

Sasquatch Outpost

The work on renovating and re-creating the Bailey Country Store has begun!  We spent most of the last two days removing the garbage and junk left by previous tenants so we can gain a better idea of what needs to be done.  Yesterday Steve and I started investigating the state of the floor in the store more thoroughly, and we decided that we had to climb down into the 2-foot crawlspace under the floor to look at the floor joists from underneath.  Steve couldn't fit through the trap-door opening, so guess who had to crawl down into that dark, dank, 130-year-old space?  I had previously set off about five bug bombs under the floor, knowing that "someone" would have to go down there.  The fact that we killed an enormous black widow spider on the front of the building the day before was no comfort to me at all.  But hey, the Just Shall Live By Faith, right?  So down I went.  I couldn't squeeze more than a few yards in any direction, but the thought occurred to me while I was down there that I should have brought a metal detector with me; who knows what cool stuff might be hiding in that dirt?  Anyway, there was no way to see the problem from underneath, so we attacked it from above.  We picked a particularly bad spot in the middle of the store, and we went through two layers of linoleum, a layer of plywood, a layer of tiles, then some kind of concrete before we finally reached the original hardwood flooring.  It is all full of moisture (oh boy, more work!), and we will clearly have to rip up the entire floor and rebuild it on top of the existing joists.  The problem is that we have seven fridge/freezers to move - some of which date from the 1950's and weigh upwards of a ton.  This should be interesting.  As we were working we must have had a dozen people stop by the ask what we're doing, and one woman volunteered to come and help us with our work-day on Saturday.  That's exactly what we are hoping for... curiosity that will lead to community involvement.

No Way

Last Wednesday evening we held our first "official" church service in the upstairs apartment of the Country Store.  I was expecting more than our usual 15, but to my surprise 29 people showed up - four of whom have not been to any church in years.  After the meeting one of them - a guy in his early 30's - came up to me and said that he's decided to leave Bailey and start his life over.  I found out later from a mutual friend that he's been through a hellish time the past few weeks.  Anyway, he asked if we might have any use for some tools he needs to get rid of, like a table saw and a few other power tools.  I told him that we could certainly make use of anything that he is willing to donate.  He called me yesterday morning to see when we would be at the store, because he was bringing a trailer-load of stuff (??) to drop off.  When he arrived an hour later my jaw literally dropped: he'd FILLED a 15 foot trailer with power tools and equipment, all of which he wanted to donate to help us renovate the country store.  I was honestly speechless as he carried a table saw, a drill press, a band saw, drills, nail guns, planers... I don't even know what all he gave.  I then remembered that Michael had given me a box of his books to give away, so I grabbed a signed copy and handed it to him - explaining that it's the story of how our church came to be.    "Well, I'm not much of a Christian, " he said.  "That's fine," I replied, "I think you'll enjoy reading it anyway."   "Well,"  he continued, "I'm actually an athiest".  Say what?  Something dramatic had apparently taken place in his heart the previous night at our meeting.  And here's the best part:  he called me about an hour later and said that he only wanted one thing in exchange for all that he'd given to our church.  "You name it" I replied.  He said that he's moving to Florida to get training to become a commercial pilot, and all he wanted from us was that we pray that he makes it.  Wow - God never ceases to amaze me!  I challenge our fledgling church to believe God for miracles...  and the next day an ATHIEST donates every tool we could possibly need, and only wants prayer in return.  Booyah!

The Just Shall Live By Faith

Here We Go!

Last Thursday I met with the owners of the historic Bailey Country Store to negotiate an agreement to lease the building.  I went to the meeting wearing my guns on the outside (figuratively speaking, of course) because I didn't know them, nor could I predict how difficult the meeting might become.  Within the first five minutes I realized once again that God has been behind this project from the get go, because the owners are both strong Christians who are very excited about the Journey Church being the new occupants of the store.  We sealed the deal within 30 minutes, and spent the next hour-and-a-half talking about the Lord, and what He's doing in Bailey, and how this project could help to revitalize the whole town.  It was an amazing conversation, and God's handwriting is everywhere we look.  Since reaching a verbal agreement on the Country Store, I've been busy connecting with local business owners to begin building a friendship and to tell them about our plans to re-open the grocery store.  Across the board their enthusiasm is contagious.

Bailey Bigfoot
On a side note, near the end of our conversation the wife mentioned (I don't remember why, actually) that Bailey has gotten some media attention recently due to several significant sightings of Bigfoot - yes, I said it - Bigfoot.  At the end of May two women were out walking in the forest on the outskirts of town at dusk, and a cracking branch drew their attention to one side.  They both watched in disbelief as an enormous, hairy (somewhere around 7 ft tall)  bi-pedal figure ran down the hillside about 100 yds from them at superhuman speed, and disappeared into the trees.  They could both clearly see it, and they can even describe the color of the hair.  I am planning to meet one of the women later this week to hear her story for myself, but when Lynn shared this with me last week I laughed out-loud; God really has a sense of humor, knowing that I am an avid Bigfoot enthusiast too.  I'd been trying to figure out what we could do to to make out coffee shop unique - something that would draw people into the store - and now I think I have it.  I spent last night with my brother John in Breckenridge, and this morning we played around with Photoshop and came up with the idea below.  I think it's hilarious, but that's just me.  We'll see if our launch team will buy it!

Mount Sherman & Bailey Church update

Jim and Duke at the summit of Mount Sherman

A solitary mine shaft on the climb up

It's always encouraging to see how far you've come!

  

On Monday I climbed Mount Sherman with a
 new friend named Richard.  I chose Sherman because it's fairly close to Conifer (a little over an hour's drive) and is supposedly one of the easier peaks to climb.  I chose Richard as my companion because he's retired and has the time, and because he's climbed over 70 14ers and 13ers.  We headed out at 5 am because I wanted to pick up a load of firewood down in Denver that afternoon (hardwood. Burns MUCH longer than pinewood, so I mix the two together).  We got to the parking point at around 6:30 and headed up.  The day was overcast and cool.  Richard has had skin cancer in the past, so I was grateful for his sake that we weren't going to be exposed to the sun on this hike.  We made it up and back by 9:30 - a fact which amazed me, since I felt like I was stopping every 30 feet to catch my breath.  As we climbed the ridge to the summit we could see the dark clouds of an approaching storm to the east, and while I wasn't too worried for myself since I carry rain gear, I was concerned for Duke.   The temperature dropped consistently as we climbed, and when you added the windchill it was probably in the upper 30's by the time we reached the top.  Getting soaked by rain at that temperature could easily give Duke hypothermia, so I was watching the storm closely as we climbed.  Richard felt like we had plenty of time, and I trusted his experience and judgment.  As it turned out, it started to rain when we were 3/4 of the way down.  Others we'd passed on the way down were way up near the summit by that time, and it must have been absolutely freezing.  It was a great morning, and another fourteener (my second) I can add to my short list of accomplishments.

Duke, the intrepid climber

Bailey Church Update

Full Steam Ahead for the launch of the Bailey Campus of the Journey Church.  Daphne and I will meet again tonight with our launch team, which has now grown to almost 20 people.  I am hoping and praying that I'll have some good news to share with them this evening. 

For the past couple of weeks we've been in negotiations with the current owner  of

Rusted boiler that ran the steam engines for the mine

the Bailey Country Store - an historic building that dates back to 1878 - so it was one of the original buildings in the town of Bailey.  The store has been closed for three years, leaving no other grocery store in town.  It is in deplorable condition and in desperate need of a serious facelift, but my heart is to make use of the manpower army we have at the Journey Church to help us with the labor - a new roof, a new floor, a new paint job.  This building is a Bailey icon, and it would be a perfect way for our church to help revitalize the small downtown area of Bailey.  I also feel strongly that our launch team needs to see that our God is great, that He still answers prayer, and that we can trust Him for great things.  Renovating the Country Store would give us a project that we can all sink our hands and hearts into - just like Nehemiah rebuilding the wall around Jerusalem.  The Jewish people at that time desperately needed something and someone to give them hope and to help restore their sense of dignity and self-confidence.  My sense is that re-opening the Bailey Country Store would do the same for this community. 

It's in God's hands now.

Bailey Launch

 Well, Journey Church isn't exactly moving to Bailey, but we ARE going to launch a new satellite church there.  This expansion has been in the works for years, but we're finally ready to take the plunge.  God has already prompted six couples to be a part of this new church plant, and others are seriously considering it.  Daphne and I are leading the move into Bailey, which is a small mountain town about 30 miles Southwest of the Denver suburbs.  Bailey is often called the poor, redneck cousin of Conifer and Evergreen, the two other towns in our part of the front range.  This is an unfair depiction of the good people of Bailey, but there's no doubt that, economically-speaking, Bailey is sucking wind and has been for years.  Only a few viable businesses remain in "downtown" Bailey, and most  residents drive North to Conifer and Denver for groceries and entertainment.  What Bailey DOES have, however, is a real sense of community - and that's what we want to tap into.  What we need is some kind of community "anchor",  a 7-day-a-week venue that will give us proximity to the people of Bailey - particularly those who would not darken the door of any church. We need a place that will provide a real service to the people of Bailey, and that could potentially help revitalize this small, struggling town.

On that note, there's an historic building in Bailey (that shall for the moment remain secret) that has been vacant for years and that's in desperate need of serious elbow grease and love - kind of like the town of Bailey.  It's the perfect location for us to create a small business that could potentially draw people even from the neighboring towns.  We've entered into negotiations with the owner to lease the property, but this will require a miracle from God as we have almost no money to work with, and we've made him an offer that he can absolutely refuse.  But I see the tracing of God's finger in so many ways already that I believe He will provide us with the place that we need - whether this building or something else. Bailey doesn't need another church building, but maybe we can help this little mountain community, and somewhere along the way spread the love and hope that we've found in Jesus. 

As the Chronicles of Narnia say, "Aslan is on the move".

Stay tuned...

Sas-squash wars

I am a believer in Bigfoot.  Call me crazy or eccentric, but I believe they exist.  There is simply too much physical evidence and eyewitness sightings to conclude otherwise.  My friends and teammates rib me to no end regarding my unorthodox Bigfoot "religion".  We went camping last week, and my stated intention (tongue in cheek) was to bring back "definitive proof" that Bigfoot exists.  Well, due to the torrential downpours every evening, my Sasquatch adventures were dampened.  When I returned I received an email from my friend Phil, and the ensuing email exchange is funny enough to include here in my blog.  The original picture that Phil doctored was of me kneeling next to my bear after I'd shot it.



Hey Papa Jim,

I heard your camping trip was a success!!!  Congratulations on gaining 100% proof that SashSquash exists!  I plan on continuing your field research this weekend out at Taylor Park!



Tractor on,
Phil

Phil, you must have somehow gotten  hold of a fake photo.  What you sent is clearly doctored and photo-shopped.  I am herewith sending the CORRECT, GENUINE photograph for your viewing pleasure.  It was a little hard to shoot the big guy, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

Jim

Papa Jim,

Sorry for the confusion .. I retrieved the actual image from Soviet Satellite Archives ...
I'm headed out to Taylor Park (West of Buena Vista) for some field research myself this weekend .. I'll keep you abreast of any significant findings.

Tractor on,
Milky

Of Moose and Men

I went fishing a couple of days ago with my friends Scott and Dave.  I wanted to try a lake that I'd seen at the base of Mount Bierstadt when our group had climbed the mountain a couple of weeks ago.  We left later in the afternoon, so by the time we arrived it was already around 5 pm.  The setting is totally breathtaking.  The lake - really a large pond - is at 11, 500 ft, so it's above the tree line.  We got our gear together and hiked down to the pond.  When we got there we realized that it is actually a marsh, and there's no solid ground within 10 yards of the edge of the pond.  I had my waders on, so I squooshed my way in to where I could try a few casts while Scott and Dave walked around to the other side to see if there was any firmer footing.  As I trudged through the muck I would occasionally sink up to my thighs, and I was instantly grateful that I was not alone in case I got in deeper than I could get out.  I fished for 15 or 20 minutes, but there was absolutely no sign of any life in the pond.  The two guys had given up by this  time and were sitting on a knoll on the other side of the pond, so I squooshed my way over to them.  I had seen several smaller ponds from up on the mountain, so we decided to take a walk and investigate them for signs of life.  Again, no fish.  When I stepped into one of the smaller ponds I realized that the clear water we could see through was only the top 10 inches, and below that was 3 feet of muck... so it would be impossible for any fish to live there.  Around 7 pm we started our hike back to the car, and along the way we passed the larger pond - and to our amazement there was now an enormous bull moose standing in the water, feeding on the weeds on the bottom of the pond.  I don't know where he came from because we certainly hadn't seen him, and he would have been hard to miss!  I only had my iphone with me, but I took this video anyway.  It's blurry, but you can see the size of his rack pretty clearly.  So, we didn't catch any fish, but we got to see the biggest bull moose any of us had ever seen.  It was all worth it.

The world we live in

Massacre.  Mayhem. Confusing motives. Gun control.  Role-Playing.

Colorado's reputation as being the Mass-Shooting state is now carved in stone with this latest, tragic event in Aurora.  And this one hits closer to home; the son of dear friends in our church lost his best friend in the rampage.  It was his birthday, and he'd been married for only one year.

The mystery behind what might have motivated James Holmes continues to deepen.  A Ph.D student in neuroscience, no prior arrests, described as shy and retiring.  Raised in an upper middle-class home in California (why is it that mass-murderers are always young, white men from privileged backgrounds?).  Quiet.  Unassuming.  And yet his mother's first words when she heard of the massacre and the arrest of a suspect said to ABC news: "You have the right person," she said, apparently speaking on gut instinct. "I need to call the police... I need to fly out to Colorado."  Clad in sophisticated body armor (literally) from head to toe, wearing a gas mask, his hair dyed bright red, and identifying himself to police as the "Joker".   This story is far from over, and the more we learn as investigators search through the evidence, the more bizarre the details are likely to become.  Was he involved in mind-altering research?  Was he put up to this by other, currently unknown, parties? Opponents of current gun laws are already using this incident as one more "proof" of the need for stricter legislation in the purchase and use of firearms, particularly assault weapons such as the rifle that was used in the theater rampage.

I have legal permit to carry a concealed weapon.  I've taken several gun safety and marksmanship courses, but I am far from being an expert.  I am also an avid big-game hunter with a bear-skin rug to prove it, but shooting an animal is a universe away from pointing a weapon at a human being and pulling the trigger.  If I had been in the movie theater last Friday night, would I have had the intestinal fortitude to use my gun to at least attempt to halt the carnage?  I wouldn't be surprised if at least one person in the theater that night was packing, but there have been no reports of anyone returning fire.  None of us really know what we would be capable of until we find ourselves in the same situation.

 I will always remember what the instructor told us in one of the handgun courses I attended: "If you ever pull your weapon, it had better be for something you're willing to go to jail for, or to die for."

Mount Bierstadt

 

The boulder ridge from below

Sawtooth Ridge

Sunrise on the trail

Yesterday Daphne and I, along with six of our teammates, climbed Mount Bierstadt - considered one of the easier summits among Colorado's 53-some Fourteeners.  We left our house around 4:30 and reached the trailhead around 5:45.  There were already a dozen cars in the parking lot, so clearly there are some pretty intense climbers who start long before dawn.  It's possible to climb both Mt Bierstadt and Mt Evans in one day, but that involves a difficult - even treacherous - climb across the sawtooth ridge that joins the two peaks.  Apparently a woman fell to her death from the sawtooth last year, so it's not a climb to be attempted by novices.  Not long after we left the parking lot and starting down through the willows, I just happened to look back to my right and saw a large animal standing in a clearing about 100 yards away.  It was a young bull moose munching on the willow bushes.  As we stood there watching him, I realized upon closer inspection there were two other, larger bulls lying down with just their antlers visible above the bushes.  Pretty cool. Adam, who grew up in Colorado and who's climbed at least 20 Fourteeners, had never actually seen a moose in the wild.  I kick myself now for the decision not to bring my Nikon camera.  Next time.


We hiked down through a maze of willows, across a small creek, and then started the ascent.  I decided about 2/3 of the way to the summit that "easy" in Coloradan mountain-climbing lingo actually means "you probably won't kill yourself".  The trail-head starts at 11,600 ft and you climb to 14,060 - so around 2500 vertical feet.  I decided to take Duke along with us for the day because he loves to go on hikes.  After being pulled up the mountain and then pulled down, I've decided that Duke needs some remedial obedience training.  His energy level is unbelievable, and he could have turned around at the bottom and done the whole mountain again.  Course, he would have done it by himself because I was absolutely hammered by the time we got back.  The Bierstadt trail is only 7 miles round-trip, but the last 1/4 mile and 500 vertical feet is all boulders.  Standing at the bottom of that part and looking up at the summit you say to yourself, "You know,  I could be happy just to enjoy this from afar".  But of course, you drag yourself up that last stretch to the top.  It would be a real shame to get that far and not reach the summit.  The climb down was considerably easier, though I was really feeling it in my 50 year-old knees by the time we reached the bottom.  At one point Daphne and I stopped to wait for some of our teammates to catch up.  Duke and I found some shade under a tree that was partially hidden from the path.  About 5 minutes later a man came walking down the path and Duke, true to form, came up out of the bushes to saw hi.  I thought that guy was going to jump out of his skin!  Duke is the same color as a mountain lion, and for a split second he thought he was being attacked.  I tried not to laugh as I apologized for Duke's over enthusiasm, but it was really funny.

Jim and Duke at the summit

With a good night's rest and only some lingering soreness in my legs, I've caught the bug and I'm already planning my next Fourteener excursion.  I'll take my camera next time!

Out of the Hen House and into the Chicken Coop

   I will finally have my own, private studio to do my painting.  Well, "studio" is a big word:  It's actually an old chicken coop that someone was going to tear down, and I offered to take it off their hands and move it to my property.  Of course, I had no idea what this meant, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.  Ever heard of the Darwin Awards?  They are granted to those individuals who kill themselves through sheer stupidity, and thus ensure the safety of our communal gene pool.  My three friends and I came close to becoming candidates when we nearly rolled the trailer with the shed strapped on as I backed out of the yard;  the wheels on one side of the trailer were actually off the ground due to the angle, but we quickly threw some bricks under the wheels on the downward side to level it out, and it worked.  We got it back to my house, then I hired a crane to come pick it up, lift it over the power lines that come into the house, then set it down on the bricks I'd prepared for that purpose.  The chicken / studio sits with the front windows facing the trees, and because it's a Colorado chicken coop it was already insulated.  Once I get all the chicken poo and feathers cleaned out, it should make a nice (little) studio.  I'm psyched!

Lifting the shed over the wires: this guy knew what he was doing!

I officiated (?) my niece's Rebekah's wedding last Saturday - my first.  Colorado has about the most liberal marriage licensing laws I've ever heard of:  you don't have to be married by a pastor, justice of peace or anyone in an official capacity.  In fact , you can just decide to marry yourself.  All you have to do is sign the papers, and you're hitched.

The wedding was held in Gold Hill, CO, a tiny historic mining town in the mountains above Boulder.  The Bluebird Inn is a historic landmark, and the wedding was held outdoors in the yard next to the inn - in 90 degree heat and under a beautiful hot blue sky and blazing sun.  I don't think I spoke more than 15 minutes, and the whole ceremony lasted less than 30... as I was very conscious of the small crowd sitting there shielding their eyes from the sun.  The rest of the afternoon was given to fine dining and fine dancing, compliments of an outstanding Cajun washboard band - click on the image above for a sample of the music. 

Roping A Deer

Yesterday I came down with the creeping crud - achy, crampy, nauseating misery.  I feel a little better today, but I'm not yet up to my usual manly, hard physical labor.  Two days ago I was cutting down and limbing trees at hole #5 of our disc golf course.  I only worked for 3-4 hours, but I was so wiped by the end that I could barely drive my truck home.  Now I know why; the creeping crud had already taken hold.

My friend Mark sent me the following description of what it's like to rope a deer, and I laughed so hard I had to copy it here.  I don't know if it's true or not, but it sure is funny.

_______________________________________

I had this idea that I was going to rope a deer, put it in a stall, sweet feed it on corn for a few weeks, then butcher it and eat it. Yum! Corn-fed venison. The first step in this adventure was getting a deer.
Since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do not have much fear of me (a bold one will sometimes come right up and sniff at the bags of feed while I am in the back of the truck four feet away) it should not be difficult to rope one, toss a bag over its head to calm it down, then hog-tie it and transport it home.
I filled the cattle feeder and hid behind it with my rope. The cattle, having seen a roping or two before, stayed well back. They were not having any of it.  After 20 minutes, my deer showed up, 3 of them. I picked a likely looking one, stepped out, and threw my rope. The deer just stood there and stared at me. I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end so I would have a good hold. The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell she was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation.  I took a step toward it. It took a step away. I put a little tension on the rope, and received an education. The first thing I learned is that, while a deer may just stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, it is spurred to action when you start pulling on that rope.

That deer EXPLODED.

The second thing I learned is that, pound for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a cow or a colt. A cow or a colt in that weight range, I could fight down with some dignity. A deer? No chance.
That thing ran and bucked, it twisted and pulled. There was no controlling that deer, and certainly no getting close to it. As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the ground, it occurred to me that having a deer firmly attached to a rope was not such a good idea. The only upside is that they do not have much stamina.  A brief ten minutes later it was tired, and not as quick to jerk me off my feet and drag me. It took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly blinded by the blood flowing out of the big gash in my head.
At that point, I had lost my appetite for corn-fed venison. I hated the thing, and would hazard a guess that the feeling was mutual. I just wanted to get that devil creature off the end of that rope. But if I let it go with the rope hanging around its neck, it would likely die slow and painful somewhere.  Despite the gash in my head, and several large knots where I had cleverly arrested the deer's pell-mell flight by bracing my head against large rocks as it dragged me across the ground, I could still think clearly enough to recognize that I shared some tiny amount of responsibility for the situation we were in. I didn't want the deer to suffer a slow death.  I managed to get it lined up between my truck and the feeder, a little trap I had set beforehand, like a squeeze chute. I backed it in there, and I started moving forward to get my rope back.
Did you know that deer bite? They do!
I never in a million years would have thought that a deer would bite, so I was very surprised when I reached up there to grab hold of that rope, and the deer grabbed hold of my wrist. Now, when a deer bites you, it is not like a horse, it does not just bite and let go. A deer bites and shakes its head, like a pit bull. They bite HARD and won't let go. It hurts!
The proper reaction when a deer bites you is probably to freeze and draw back slowly. I tried screaming and wrenching away. My method was ineffective. It felt like that deer bit and shook me for several minutes, but it was likely only several seconds.
I, being smarter than a deer (though you may be questioning that claim by now) tricked it. While I kept it busy tearing the bejesus out of my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled that rope loose. That was when I learned my final lesson in deer behavior for the day.  Deer will strike at you with their front feet. They rear right up and strike at head and shoulder level, and their hooves are surprisingly sharp. I learned long ago that when a horse strikes at you with its hooves and you can't get away, the best thing to do is make a loud noise and move aggressively towards the animal. This will cause it to back down a bit, so you can make your escape.  This was not a horse. This was a deer. Obviously, such trickery would not work. In the course of a millisecond, I devised a different strategy. I screamed like a woman and turned to run.
The reason we have been taught NOT to turn and run from a horse that paws at you is that there is a good chance that it will hit you in the back of the head. Deer are not so different from horses after all, other than being twice as strong and three times as evil. The second I turned to run, it hit me right in the back of the head and knocked me down.
When a deer paws at you and knocks you down, it does not immediately depart. I suspect it does not recognize that the danger has passed. What it does instead is paw your back and jump up and down on you, while you are laying there crying like a little girl and covering your head.
I finally managed to crawl under the truck, and the deer went away. Now I know why people go deer hunting with a rifle and a scope. It's so they can be somewhat equal to the prey.

Little Foxes

A fox crossed the road in front of me yesterday on my way home, carrying a hot dog in its mouth.  People up here love to feed the foxes and bears, then they're surprised when their little dogs and cats go missing... doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out.  Besides, these are wild animals that carry diseases (rabies, among others) that can easily be passed on to pet dogs.

Thinking of foxes, I read a devotional by Spurgeon yesterday that gave me food for thought:

Song 2:15   “Catch the foxes for us,
    The little foxes that are ruining the vineyards,
    While our vineyards are in blossom.”

"A little thorn can cause much suffering.  A little cloud may hide the sun.  Little foxes spoil the vines; and little sins do mischief to the tender heart.  These little sins burrow in the soul, and make it so full of that which is hateful to Christ, that he will hold no comfortable fellowship and communion with us.  A great sin cannot destroy a Christian, but a little sin can make him miserable.  Jesus will not walk with his people unless they drive out every known sin.  He says, 'If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, even as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love.'  Some Christians very seldom enjoy their Savior's presence. How is this possible? Surely it must be an affliction for a tender child to be separated from his father.  Are you a child of God, and yet satisfied to go on without seeing your Father's face?... Ask, then, the question, what has driven Christ from you?  He hides his face behind the wall of your sins.  That wall may be built up of little pebbles, as easily as of great stones.  The sea is made of drops; the rocks are made of grains; and the sea which divides you from Christ may be filled with the drops of your little sins... take heed of the little foxes that spoil the vines, for our vines have tender grapes."

20 days of silence

I can't believe it's been 20 days since my last blog entry.  Blogging, to me, is similar to painting in that I have to be in the right mood and feel positive about the subject of my painting or else I simply don't paint.  It's not that I can't or won't, but I just don't.  I guess I haven't been in the right mood or frame of mind these past few weeks to blog, which indicates to me that blogging is more emotionally based that I realized.  Anyway, a lot has transpired since my last entry.

I'm in Birmingham, AL as I write this.  I came down for Memorial Day weekend to help out after Mom had partial hip replacement surgery last Wednesday.  Bill spent the weekend down at the lake with Nate and his friends, so I'm glad I could come to be with Mom in the hospital and help when she was discharged yesterday.  She's already walking well with the help of her rolling walker.  Dad and I just watched the video that explains how to give Ouma her daily shot to prevent blood clots, and he agreed to give her the daily injection in .  Sandy declined the opportunity to do the sticking; I think she wants to stay on Ouma's good side! 
Before we knew about the fractured hip we'd heard from the Oncologist here in B'ham that Mom's cancer is back, and the initial prognosis was not very positive.  More tests need to be done, but since she's decided not to go through chemotherapy again it doesn't really matter.  God is in control, whether Ouma has a year to live or many more years.  A prognosis is an educated guess at best, and it doesn't take God's power and sovereignty into account.  She is at peace regardless of the outcome because, as Mom says, "The joy of the Lord is my strength".



On the way back from the hospital we stopped to fill Mom's prescriptions at Walgreens.  While we waited in the car as Dad picked up the drugs, this kid walked by - his pants barely holding on around his thighs.  I don't get it; why not just walk around in your red boxer shorts?  We've gone from cool baggy, to butt cracks, to the ridiculous now.  He ran a few yards right after I took this picture... well, more of a waddle than a run, which is the only way he could keep his pants on.  I'm sure the babes find the boxers SUCH a turn-on!

I came upon an accident a few days ago at the bottom of Warkhawk Dr.  Apparently the driver had a carload of stuff he was moving, and when he came around the last corner (I assume too fast) everything piled in the passenger seat fell over onto him - distracting him enough that he drifted off the left side of the road, over the side and into a large pine tree.  It's a miracle that he didn't roll the car all the way to the bottom. The incline is much steeper than it looks from the pictures, and there's nothing that would have stopped him until he reached the road down below.  The car was being held onto the slope by the tree that stopped his forward momentum, and I don't know why the car didn't roll onto him when he got out of the driver's seat on the down-slope side.  Amazing.  His only injuries were a bloody nose and mouth - the inevitable consequence of having your life saved by a bag of air exploding through the steering wheel and into your face.





I'm working on a new painting, this one from a photograph I took two years ago.  It's larger than I normally paint - I think this one's 24 x 30.  I took several of my pieces to a new gallery in Evergreen a couple of weeks ago, and once more they declined to display my work - something about it not being a good "fit" for their gallery.  I think this is the 4th gallery I've tried unsuccessfully to get into.  Ironically, that same week I sold an original painting to someone in the church who wanted it as a surprise father's day gift for her husband.  I told her afterwards how her purchase had encouraged me after being rejected by the gallery.  I would love to display my work publicly, but either way I need to keep painting because it's therapeutic for me.