2010 Books I Read

1. Why we Hate the Oil Companies - John Hofmeister
2. The Sign of Four - Conan Doyle
3. The Ugly American – William Lederer
4. A Study in Scarlet - Conan Doyle
5. On Paradise Drive - David Brooks
6. The Conscience of a Liberal – Paul Krugman
7. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
8. Homegrown Democrat - Garrison Keillor
9. Basics of Retaining Wall Design - Hugh Brooks
10. The Virginian - Owen Wister
11. American Revelation - Neil Baldwin
12. Comeback America - David Walker
13. Audacity of Hope – Barak Obama
14. Take this Bread - Sara Miles
15. Sleeping Murder – Agatha Christie
16. Murder at the Vicarage – Agatha Christie
17. False Economy - Alan Beattie
18. 1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus - Charles Mann
19. The Survivor’s Club – Ben Sherwood
20. Before Columbus: The Americas of 1491 - Charles Mann
21. How to Raise Totally Awesome Kids - Borsellino
22. Nemesis - Agatha Christie
23. The Secret Adversary - Agatha Christie
24. Disciplines for an Inner Life – Bob Benson (partial)
25. In Between a Rock and a Hard Place – Aron Ralston
26. The Politically Incorrect Guide to Global Warming - Christopher Horner

2010 Books I Listened To

1. Supreme Court: The Law of the Land - Kermit Hall
2. Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows - JK Rowling
3. The War Within - Bob Woodward
4. Playing for Pizza - John Grisham
5. All the President's Men - Bob Woodward
6. Seldom Disappointed: A Memoir by Tony Hillerman
7. The Fellowship of the Ring - JRR Tolkien
8. Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Quest of Dr. Paul Farmer, a Man Who Would Cure the World - Tracy Kidder

...God owns the Hills as well. (Haiti Day 7)

This land is surround by sprawl
In every direction people, homes, destruction
Yet the land remains.
In a land of squatter's rights, no one took root
In the years of expansion, it was left alone
and now it is ready for use.

A rough land, despairing, wet muck, not suitable for people.
Even in this country of pervasive perpetual poverty, people could not see the value of cultivating the land
and they left it alone.
We walked it, and the land's despair became our own;
How can this be habitable?
Fear and doubt take root - I cannot do this.

And the Lord speaks to me
First in a whisper, to comfort my soul
Then in a shout, declaring His might:
<em>"This is my land</em>
<em>and I choose to redeem it</em>
<em>to bring it to life.</em>
<em>It has remained fallow til this day,</em>
<em>for such a day as this."</em>

If God is confident then I choose to believe,
to trust in the repair of this land
which no one wanted
which will not drain
which is <em>too</em> flat
To have faith in the one who created.

He broke me, and then redeemed me
Opened my eyes to my own darkness, and then brought me into the light.

We are most ready for God at moments of humility,
Whether that be me,
or a people broken and surrounded by darkness
or a plot of abandoned property.

<em>And as for me, I know that my redeemer lives, and at the last He will take His stand on the earth - </em>Job 19:25
<em>For every beast of the forest is mine. The cattle on a thousand hills</em> - Psalm 50:10

You're Jewish, right?

While waiting in the US Customs line yesterday in Miami, a gentleman in front of me was carrying a large carving.

Alan: "Do you mind letting me see? ... That's pretty nice... Where'd you get it?"

Gentleman: "Haiti."
Alan: "Oh, I just came from there myself"

Gentleman: "What is your last name?"
Alan, a bit baffled at the random question: "Bowling"

Gentleman: "Oh! I thought you were Jewish!", said with a bit of disappointment.

Alan: "No, but I get that a lot, especially from my mother-in-law."

It's about from here to there (Haiti, Day 4)

The government is required to perform a survey for the buyer of a property before purchase, all for the generous price of $250 / acre (the daily wage for a laborer is less than $10.)

Grace was given the Lambi property that we have been designing as long as they paid for the survey, which showed 7 acres, was obviously done in an office without a sight visit, and bore no resemblance to anything on the ground. As we performed a site survey based upon the marker description (painted tree, painted bush, old concrete column, and another painted tree), we found the site contained 4 acres. Having the government surveyor come out (for possibly the first time) to discuss the discrepancy, our project surveyor NEGOTIATED the land until we ended up with 6 acres:

Grant (our Surveyor): "With these markers, we only have 4 acres"

Gov't Surveyor: "Oh, well, how about you extend that line from here to there."
Grant: "That gets us about 5 acres"

Gov't Surveyor: "Hmmm, maybe you ignore this fence line and take that portion over there. That should get you your 7 acres"

Neighbor, standing to the side: "NO, that's my property!!!"

Gov't Surveyor: "Good Point, well, how about we just move the line to here. Will that be OK?"

Grant: "It's 6 acres, but we can live with it."

The ministry folks know this property (one of many they are master planning for permanent homes to re-house the 20,000 people on the front lawn) as the "7-acre tract". Tonight, in our presentation of the site design of the tract, we clarified: "The 7-acre tract has 6 acres".

They are still calling it the '7-acre tract'.

This Land is Your Land, This Land is My Land (Haiti, Day 3)

Property Rights are a fundamental right in the United States. Our first President was a Surveyor, our third was a major proponent of the Land Grant College system and sent two men into the pantheons of boyhood lore via the traversing of a newly purchased half-continent.

We do not generally conscious of the legacy of the our forefathers' priority in this matter. Without thought, we intuitively recognize our own right to 'our land', 'our house'. We bought it, we inherited it, we have enduring markers embedded in the ground displaying to others the extents of our ownership. We have deeds, records, courthouse filings. We have Clerks, Judges, Surveyors. All of these entities there to provide a proper security over our Title as Land Owner. And in the rarest of circumstances when even these features fail to protect, we have Chicago Land & Title company providing us a low-cost insurance plan in case some indiscretion is found later.

This is not true in many countries throughout the world, even some first world countries. This plays havoc on the poor of the world. If you do not have a proper title and legal system to uphold its validity, then land ownership is based upon 'power', and the weak, the poor, the orphans and widows of the world are forever prevented from obtaining land.

Such conditions deteriorate an economy, or rather, prevent its growth. If a person cannot trust that what they have is their's to keep, they will, over time, disregard the property itself, will be too hesitant to invest in its upkeep, will allow it to descend into disrepair.

There are many issues surrounding the individual Haitian. This is one I have experienced this week and found very frustrating.

Beyond... (Haiti, Day 2)

It is always a good reminder as you enter a new country to get a feel for 'timing'. This was achieved in 3 hours of waiting in the Port au Prince Warehouse (I mean, 'Airport'), as we stalled until our trip liaison arrived. The 10am site visit, per our well-intentioned schedule, began at 5pm and was a race against the sun.

Grace International is a light in a very dark storm. I cannot believe how unbelievable this place is; the team has tried to talk our way through the overall state of this land, and it does not add up. There are gaps at every level, and it would take a Dr. Vanegas-style flow chart to even establish the basis for a prognosis, not even beginning to lay out a treatment plan.

I struggle on multiple levels - this engineer is aghast at the trash, the rubble, the half-built buildings, the half-collapsed buildings. In my best John Wayne impersonation, I want to turn to the masses (the 20,000 people tented outside my window at the moment), and challenge, "Give me your best, who will work hard, long, with a vision for the future...", and then I realize I am not John Wayne, and this is not a Warner Brother backlot.

There are signs of life, and signs of death and signs of change and signs of stagnation. I am proud to be here and hope that what we are involved with provides opportunities and hope for people who have been given a fairly difficult lot in life.

Let it begin... (Haiti, Day One)

11 days ago I was surreptitiously approached by a friend at the Association of Christian Design Professionals conference and asked if I would be willing to travel to Haiti on short notice. We were just finishing rolling the chapel and throwing spit-balls at the elderly volunteers, so I was a bit preoccupied: "Sure".

Then, backing up, I qualified my statement: "I'll have to check with my three authorities first: God, Maggie and Gaskins," assuming one of them had a good reason to keep me at bay.

I probably should have found a stronger means of disqualification, as I now find myself arriving in a hotel room in Ft Lauderdale and setting a 3:30 am wake-up call to get the team to the airport for 5 days in Carrefour, Haiti, staying at Grace Hospital and designing a 500 person neighborhood. Or, as Duane rumored, attending the grand opening of the new Sandals resort.

I suppose that last comment is insensitive - I have a history of dealing with overwhelming things with mild sarcasm. I'm pretty sure we are about to see the overwhelming, about to enter the unfixable, about to attempt the impossible.

My dad commented the other day, before this trip was sprung, that Haiti is beyond repair. He is likely correct, judging from the last 100-years of support and where the country has floundered. If there is a God-sized project anywhere, it is in Haiti. I am not an overtly spiritual man in my words, although I try to be in my prayers. But it is clear to me from my suburban tower that Haitians need a breakthrough, and that God is the best route for that transition from the oppressed to freedom.

And as well, even though we are preparing a home for 500 people in a 20,000 person tent city, and that seems almost a waste, it isn't. For the people with a new home, a new garden, a new factory and farm and proper outdoor toilets, it will not be a waste.

My prayer is that I am a man after God's own heart in these days ahead.

Ol' Blu

In early 1995 I took my amazing $300 tax return and blew it in Mecca ('REI', for the uninitiated). Bought a sleeping bag, tent, and 2 bananas ('bandanas', again, for the uninitiated).

Being the crazy rebel that I am, I refused to purchase common red bandanas, but instead opted for a light-blue and a tan bandana, which would ensure I always know which ones are mine (there's nothing worse than having a big bandana party with all of your friends and not knowing which ones to take home at the end of the night).

Ol' Blu (that's the blue one's name) was a faithful chap. Served in whatever capacity needed at the moment: a sweat rag, dew-rag, tourniquet, blanket, ear-warmer, snot-rag, dish-rag (this list is not necessarily in chronological order), food-prep station, strainer, way to meet the ladies ("Wow, that's a nice light-blue bandana you've got half hanging out of your pocket. I bet you can tell a few stories about him." "Why yes, I can."). There has hardly been a time in 15 years that I have not taken Old Blu with me on any trip of length or into the great wide open. The roughness of the cheap cotton had worn as smooth as a baby's bottom. I had even contemplated making a pair of underwear out of him.

Today, just a moment ago, my 2nd child walked in to show me a picture she made, which turns out was composed of a number of pieces of cloth cut up and taped together to in simple beauty. Ol' Blu played his final role, one he shall never return from, as the cut up front door, sidewalk and chimney smoke of my daughter's craftsmanship.

There was a moment I was tempted to react, to cry out in loss at Ol' Blu, to exclaim words of sorrow and anger at the senseless butchery. But how is a 7-year old to understand, and what can I do now to repair him anyway. He died as he lived, a servant to all. I will miss him.

Psalm 37 (edited for brevity)

Do not fret because of evildoers, Be not envious toward wrongdoers.

For they will wither quickly like the grass and fade like the green herb.

Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness.

Delight yourself in the LORD; and He will give you the desires of your heart.

Commit your way to the LORD, trust also in Him, and He will do it.

He will bring forth your righteousness as the light and your judgment as the noonday.

Rest in the LORD and wait patiently for Him; do not fret because of him who prospers in his way, because of the man who carries out wicked schemes.

Cease from anger and forsake wrath; do not fret; it leads only to evildoing.

For evildoers will be cut off, but those who wait for the LORD, they will inherit the land.

Yet a little while and the wicked man will be no more; and you will look carefully for his place and he will not be there.

But the humble will inherit the land and will delight themselves in abundant prosperity.

The wicked plots against the righteous and gnashes at him with his teeth.

The Lord laughs at him, for He sees his day is coming.

The wicked have drawn the sword and bent their bow to cast down the afflicted and the needy, to slay those who are upright in conduct.

Their sword will enter their own heart, and their bows will be broken.

Better is the little of the righteous than the abundance of many wicked.

For the arms of the wicked will be broken, but the LORD sustains the righteous.

The LORD knows the days of the blameless, and their inheritance will be forever.

They will not be ashamed in the time of evil, and in the days of famine they will have abundance.

But the wicked will perish; and the enemies of the LORD will be like the glory of the pastures, they vanish—like smoke they vanish away.

The wicked borrows and does not pay back, but the righteous is gracious and gives.

For those blessed by Him will inherit the land, but those cursed by Him will be cut off.

The steps of a man are established by the LORD, and He delights in his way.

When he falls, he will not be hurled headlong, because the LORD is the One who holds his hand.

I have been young and now I am old, yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken or his descendants begging bread.

All day long he is gracious and lends, and his descendants are a blessing.

Depart from evil and do good, so you will abide forever.

For the LORD loves justice and does not forsake His godly ones; they are preserved forever, but the descendants of the wicked will be cut off.

The righteous will inherit the land and dwell in it forever.

The mouth of the righteous utters wisdom, and his tongue speaks justice.

The law of his God is in his heart; his steps do not slip.

The wicked spies upon the righteous and seeks to kill him.

The LORD will not leave him in his hand or let him be condemned when he is judged.

Wait for the LORD and keep His way, and He will exalt you to inherit the land; when the wicked are cut off, you will see it.

I have seen a wicked, violent man spreading himself like a luxuriant tree in its native soil.

Then he passed away, and lo, he was no more; I sought for him, but he could not be found.

Mark the blameless man, and behold the upright; for the man of peace will have a posterity.

But transgressors will be altogether destroyed; the posterity of the wicked will be cut off.

But the salvation of the righteous is from the LORD; He is their strength in time of trouble.

The LORD helps them and delivers them; He delivers them from the wicked and saves them, because they take refuge in Him.

Walk Small

I continuously attempt to clean myself up to be able to stand before God.
We always have intentions to stand forthright before fellow man. To look another in their eyes, to protect you name in your community, to be able to walk tall not due of pride but because of integrity. And then I turn away from man and towards Jesus... and I cower. I do not measure up. I cannot stand before Him.
And my response is to turn away and push to improve myself so that I may return to stand tall before the King. Yet as I am refined (of both my discipline and the Holy Spirit's efforts) and return before the throne, deeper issues appear before me. I am once again exposed for who I am.
If I was to accept that I cannot rightly stand before Jesus, that I must bathe in His grace, what would life then look like?

Spring Break Pics

Dare I merely post some family pics, without some acerbic and incisive commentary. I don't know if I have the strength...

Bowling Spring Break 2010

Things I have learned this week

1. 
   
   There are a lot more bad ideas for tattoos than good ones. People who go into a parlor asking "What do you think I should get?" ought to be immediately turned away. People who want to advertise their favorite pastime (NASCAR, the Bulls, the Longhorns...) ought to buy a t-shirt. People who want to put detailed 5"x5" pictures of both of their children, in color, as babies, on their calf... well, people whose right calf is big enough to put two 5"x5" color pictures of their children, they're exempt from these rules. Do what you want.
2. The Orlando economy has over-estimated its worth. At the store here at the hotel, a 12 oz. bottled Coke is $2.67.
3. Playing "Connect the sunburn dots" is a lot more fun than it sounds.
4. Middle Schoolers are at the absolute peak of life-selfishness.
5. In person, bikini-wearers don't look the same as they do on the cover of the magazines you pretend you're not looking at while in line at Kroger.
6. The Bowling Six is threading the time-needle between having the youngest old enough to not be a drag while having the oldest young enough to not think that we are a drag. We must cherish these few days.

Send him to Elba

When I was in middle school, there was this kid Kevin (why do I still remember his name). He was the typical Napoleonic bully: small in stature, quick in action. He made his living picking on the peons of the class, and yes, while this will surely amaze you all, I was on of, if not the, peon of Mrs. Buchans 8C class.

For the entire year, Kevin picked at me: popping me in the back of the head while walking to the bathroom, tripping me up while going down the hall, pulling my backpack off as I was boarding the bus. Kevin continued to pick, daring me to retaliate; I never did.

The only thing keeping Kevin from actually throwing the first of many punches was Maurice Bedford, who took a liking to me and made it clear that Kevin would end up in pain if he started anything. Maurice doesn't play into this moral, but he deserves my appreciation all the same.

Just before summer, in the hall outside the bathroom just after lunch, the line in the sand was drawn. I was not going to deal with Kevin anymore. After a year of silence, I finally shot out a verbal threat to Kevin, who had undoubtedly done something to provoke it. I had not the experience, size or knowledge of how I was going to back up my statement, but I finally had the will.

The scene is still clearly before me, each of us standing with clinched fists, me wondering what exactly was supposed to be the next move, and him wondering if I had it in me to back up my threat. The group circled around, awaiting the first flinch. And I stood there, like a rock, body heating up, eyes starting to water, just this side of unhinged. I stared Kevin down. An eternity later, he took advantage of whatever distraction was in distance as an excuse to walk away.

I have no memories of Kevin after that day.

Something we all ought to do

Without needless explanation, let me justly state that life has not necessarily ventured along the charted course. Or perhaps more accurately, I have not exactly plotted the most enlightened path. So I have found the last 3 years of particular note, the stuff psalms are written of.
In a note of inspiration, a good friend encouraged me to write down all the wonderful parts of life, to help gain perspective. This is written with optimism (which is much more difficult to pull off than cynicism).

A -
B -
C - Chock Full o' Nuts - a coffee tin, sitting on my desk as a pencil holder, which originally held Chocolate Mint Chocolate Chip Cookies from a flirtatious girl from Athens who brought them to my dorm room one night 13 years ago.

D - Deal, as in 'my deal', which is likely the modern equivalent to 'God's will';) Searching these years of dissatisfaction for some clue as to what I am most joyful participating in was a valid pursuit. Gaining clarity here has been a relief and source of energy unknown for a long time prior.

E -
F -
G - Garrett Haoge Bowling - the biggest pain in my tail in my life, who I am finding myself loving like a son. It has been so much harder than anything I could have imagined... set me to spiraling. But as I have asked myself if I would change what I did, I am always met by God, knowing that He has done with me what I have done with Garrett, and if there is one thing in life I know was the right thing to do, this is it. You've got to allow yourself to rest in that.

H -
I -
J -
K -
L -
M - McK - I have a hard time rightly explaining why we do as well as we do. But I cannot imagine my life without her, and dare not even try. All others pale in comparison.

N -
O -
P - Pastor D.E. - for the first time in my life, I swallowed my pride and went to my pastor, asked for help, and allowed him to counsel me. I gave up part of what made me who I was, and gained a great deal in return.

Q -
R -
S -
T -
U -
V -
W -
X -
Y -
Z -

God wants to do in us before He wants to do with us.

Let us start: I am to rest in the mere presence of God.
We'll not pretend this is easy, self-absorbed as we are. Even one who purports himself considerate of others is found the egoist in the vicinity of our maker.
And then, when God is clearly before me,
I am emptied of pride,
Dispossessed of my drive for gain.
Wait.

In His time, He who is beyond time will reveal His direction,
His calling for the days and years upcoming.

Faithful is He who calls you, and He also will bring it to pass.

And after I surrender myself,
after I have let go,
after I wait,
after I hear...

Upon the completion of the time of pausing, in faith, I must trust
that everything that God has called me to do,
he has prepared me to do,
is equipping me to do,
and will lead me to fulfill.

In that time, with the confidence of God before me, I must move.

Where it all began

Ask me whether what I have done is my life.

Some time when the river is ice ask me mistakes I have made,
Ask me whether what I have done is my life.
Others have come in their slow way into my thought,
and some have tried to help or to hurt:
Ask me what difference their strongest love or hate has made.

I will listen to what you say.
You and I can turn and look at the silent river and wait.
We know the current is there, hidden;
and there are comings and goings from miles away that hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say

William Stafford, (c) 1977

www.selfinjury.com/the_vent

For those of you blessed to not have experienced the reality of Ma Tech, a bit of insight to help in the description: there is no reality, only theory.

Reality comes later, I've been promised. The professor [insert any one of them here, it matters not] continually advertises how what we are doing now will lead to some very useful tools in the future. I finished last semester's course with the same question from ten years ago: "What did I just learn?"

Three weeks into Hydrology and I'm spending one hour between each class studying material that I'm pretty comfortable with, and 6 hours between each class trying to write a simple computer program to display the material.

Then there's Water Resources, a title that was randomly selected to help ensure students sign up for the course. The best face I can put on the course is that I think that I am being taught something that may help me in high-level computations of something in the future, assuming that I am involved with those computations for some reason. The first homework is a simple problem... except that it cannot be solved without computations... so let us venture into the world of computer programming again. While the general discussion topics are within conceptual grasp, I am 20+ hours into teaching myself MatLab, with not much working and little enery left.

I am hoping, praying, that somehow I both make it through this semester learning a bit of the class information, and (apparently) more importantly, how to program.

www.selfinjury.com

I just walked out of a Hydrology class at good ol' Ma Tech. I thought I knew what hydrology was. Thought I engaged in it on a regular basis at work. Thought I had actually taught others about the subject.
Apparently, I've been using the wrong word all these years, because what I thought was 'hydrology' must be something else. Today, in an hour of indecipherable rambling, I caught a glimpse of what the professor deemed as hydrology. Assuming he has the correct definition means that I don't know anything about hydrology, because I had no idea what he was talking about.
I am actually paying this place to make me feel dumb.

Vizzini: "Inconceivable!"
Inigo Montoya: "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means"

facing your childhood fears

The Alan of the 80's was a bit different than the over-confident machismo you interact with today. Being the youngest kid in my neighborhood, and small for my age, I found myself partaking in the grand activity of watching others have fun.

For instance, I watched my friends conquer Zelda, play quarterback, pitch, pick first, cuss, talk about girls... I digress.

Not to say that there were no pleasures provided me. If anyone was needed to climb down into the storm basin to get the ball, I was your man (boy, I mean). Or, if a quick errand over to another's home to invite them out to play presented itself, and you could count on my fresh legs.

So it is now, at age 33, that I find myself faced with an enemy of all children of the 80's (that is, except for me, as I only watched other spew frustration): the Rubik's Cube. The Christmas present of my 8-year old daughter, who immediately asked her noble father to show her how to fix it. And seeing as though she still believes I hung the moon, I will spend the remainder of my natural born life tackling this object of wrath.

It is on.