My Confirmation Faith Statement Explored

Today I was digging through a file looking for something else when I stumbled upon my Confirmation Faith Statement. Maybe I'm the only one interested in what young me was thinking and believing then, but I found it a fascinating combination of agonizing over-church talk, proof-texting, and yet somehow having a meaningful message and belief tied up in there. Fun. So I thought I would post the statement for all to scrutinize. But to take it a step further, I will offer my own running commentary on my own faith statement. Because if we gonna judge anybody, let it be ourselves.

First, here is the statement in its entirety:

Believing in Jesus and his glory seems like a hard thing to do. But as I learned through the years of praising and studying the Lord, I learned what faith can do for me. In John 20:29 Jesus appeared before his disciples for the second time after he rose from the grave in which he said to Thomas and the others, "Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet believe."

We all know that by keeping faith in the Lord, Daniel survived the pit of hungry lions in Daniel 6. The Lord will even show us the way to redemption as I learned from Acts 26 where Paul speaks of how Jesus bought him from sin.

So what do I believe? I believe that in my baptism I was born before the Lord and for years since I have had beliefs and doubts. Until I had witnessed his glory, I could never explain this witness except by saying that my belief and prayer has delivered me from things maybe not as big as a den of lions, but the fact that Jesus did it for me anyways, that is why it's special. So as a follower of Jesus I believe that faith in the Lord God will save you.

Okay, now lets break this down a bit. Before I go further I should say I actually really like my faith statement, and there is a theme in here that has really stuck with me, and it surprises me it was there so early. It is mixed however with a language and line of thinking that runs somewhere between naive and untrue, with a hint of boastfulness. Let's take a look:

Believing in Jesus and his glory seems like a hard thing to do. But

Stop right there. The first line is an interesting one to start a faith statement with. I wish the "But" was not there. It simply is true, it is a hard thing to do. The "but" part sounds a bit like "but I did it, so there, tehehe." There is a bit of history that lies behind these words too though. The history was that about two years before this, I walked away from God and wanted nothing to do with the church. As a blanket statement it wreaks of boastfulness, the history behind it is actually about (and I just wish I expressed it better) the fact that believing was hard for me, and the but is not about my triumph where others fail, but about my gratitude that I was back in church. That's why it turns to this "But I learned...what faith can do for me."

But as I learned through the years of praising and studying the Lord, I learned what faith can do for me.

So I just expressed the good and personal element of what it was for me to feel that challenge of believing in an unseen God as behind me, but let me now call a bit of BS on myself. What was I talking about when I said I learned through years of praising AND STUDYING the Lord? What studying am I talking about? At that point I had never really read through the Bible, or done serious study of it or the God we meet in it. I'd read parts, true. I knew some stories (as we will see), but I hardly spent time studying. Those are misleading words. Maybe I am referring to my three years of confirmation, or the little research I did to write that faith statement, but I'm basically exaggerating at best, lying at worst to sound more "ready". Perhaps I meant that I understood things differently then, I could see that. But it was not from studying. Fail!

In John 20:29 Jesus appeared before his disciples for the second time after he rose from the grave in which he said to Thomas and the others, "Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet believe."

Now this is a really awesome insight for me to look back on. If you are having trouble connecting the dots (since there is a dot left unspoken here) this is what I was getting at: I found blessing in belief. For how difficult it is to believe, and the tumult I identified in my own relatively recent faith journey at that time, it was worth it. But what is so cool about this for me was that I was actually applying a text to myself. As a pastor now, I like what I see here, because what I want for everyone who reads the bible is to hear the message as speaking to them. This story somehow was doing that for me. It is interesting because I have no real memory of this verse being so meaningful, but it must have been. That's what I like about looking back at this, it gives insight into a part of the bible that made sense to me. That Jesus really meant for disciples after him to share in the blessings he offers and I was confessing myself as part of that great inheritance.Considering how little I really knew the bible at that point, to think that something of it made a cognitive impact on my teenage faith and understanding is special.


We all know that by keeping faith in the Lord, Daniel survived the pit of hungry lions in Daniel 6. The Lord will even show us the way to redemption as I learned from Acts 26 where Paul speaks of how Jesus bought him from sin.

Now before you go, "wow he really knew his Bible", realize that's how I wanted it to sound. Again, it comes off a bit more posturing. That is, I did not simply know where these stories were, I just knew about the stories and I spent time (and probably the internet) trying to find them. The proof is in the pudd'n when I reference Acts 26. You see, I was referring to Paul's conversion. But if you know your Bible you will know that Paul's conversion does not actually take place in Acts 26 but in Acts 9. What you find in Acts 26 is Paul telling King Agrippa about his conversion. But I didn't know the difference. I was looking for the story of his conversion, came across him retelling it, and thought that was where it was in the Bible. Silly rabbit.

That said, I'm also setting up the faith statement with a really interesting dot between paragraph 1 and paragraph 3. If paragraph 1 is, I overcame the hurdle of faith and found blessing. Paragraph 2 gives examples of some of the great blessings people found in scripture. The Paul one I know was very meaningful to me when I was at that point since like I said, I understood to some degree the idea of feeling like an enemy to God only to be rescued on the way and drawn into this Christian faith. The Daniel one, it was one of those Sunday school stories I don't remember from Sunday school as well but I think I came upon later in my confirmation days and apparently liked or thought enough of to mention. Probably because it expressed the blessing of holding to the faith. If I connected with Paul's story through feeling like my faith had a radical redirecting (although that concept was probably a bit more sensational than actual in some ways), I connected with Daniel in that I felt there was genuine rescue to be found in this faith and I felt like I would hold it forever (or at the very least desired to hold it forever). This connection sets us up for paragraph 3 because I'm bout to express how I felt rescued and blessed. Think of the flow of my faith statement almost as a formula or argument:

1. Faith is difficult but a blessed thing to find.
2. Just look at Paul who found it and Daniel who was spared by it.
3. I have found it and been spared by it, thus my faith is a a blessing worth its difficulty.

Let's go on

So what do I believe?

What a cunning little critter I was. I've set up my argument, even if I would still struggle to make it. After all, what do you believe is a tough question to sometimes articulate. It's a lot to ask of a teenager. And I'm surprised that I had such a train of thought, even if it had gaps in its presentation. The difficulty here, and the vagueness however also gets at something about me, I'm not always a very personal person. I'm actually often more emotionally detached, and I tend to only want to grant vulnerability to a certain extent. It is hard for me to do. That is probably why this is laid out in an argument/formula form. It allowed me to focus more on the point than the story. I'm just not as much of a story person, I'm an argument style person. And to those who hear me preach this will likely be of little surprise. I do try to be honest and vulnerable at times, I do try to change my preaching style to not always be so married to that way of thinking, but it is no doubt a default that can be seen going all the way back to my confirmation (which I made in 9th grade for those wondering).

 I believe that in my baptism I was born before the Lord and for years since I have had beliefs and doubts. 

Wow. Where did I pick this up? I don't remember baptism being a big emphasis of my confirmation or anything, but Pastor Ron or someone must have impressed it upon me. We come here to as honest and open as I get in this faith statement, which is I admit that for all my beliefs, I've carried doubts. Again, I have to impress how big a thing it was for me to have spent a period having not wanted to worship or follow God not out of boredom but anger. It was a guilt I carried for years, and part of the language and over-exaggeration is I think now, looking back, an attempt at self-redemption and seeking to assure myself that I would not make such a mistake again. It is in part why the abandonment of so many of my generation of the church is so painful. I see both a bit of myself, and a bit of what I could have been within it. And I know for every ounce of breath I have that it was for the better for me that God like the woman of the parable found her lost coin. In these words I'm saying how I don't feel like I belong, because that juxtaposition of internal guilt and yet externally finding myself belonging among people I did not feel worthy of being counted among was what grace was to me.

Until I had witnessed his glory,

Let me just say I wish I could strike this line from the statement. Along with the phrasing which just doesn't sound like me, I also think again we get to that self-posturing. I had beliefs and doubts UNTIL...like saying now no doubts. Nice try mini me. Here is that naive boasting that just makes me cringe now. I have had plenty of doubts along the way. What I have experienced does not change that, and it takes away from some of the profound honesty that precedes it. But who on their confirmation wants to sound like a still searching, unsure person? And truth be told, I don't think I felt like one. I felt very firmly rooted at that point. But more reflection, more years, more turmoil all show that it is quite sensational talk, and is tied to this self-redemption quest I carry.

I could never explain this witness 

So don't ask me to! Ha! Spoken like a true Lutheran. This was probably the phrase that guaranteed my confirmation, lol. Maybe it's because it is this coming Sunday, but the whole inexplicable, witnessing of glory kinda reminds me of the disciples witnessing Jesus' transfiguration.

except by saying that my belief and prayer has delivered me from things maybe not as big as a den of lions, but the fact that Jesus did it for me anyways, that is why it's special. 

Okay, so maybe I could explain it. Well, sort of. It's especially hard when you're trying not to go into details. But let me say, for how much I jest, even now I'm a little impressed by this statement. It is easy to be proud of oneself I suppose, but this here is what we in the business call "preachable". That is, the idea that God being with us even if our problems don't seem as big as the ones in the bible and even if our story of rescue lacks that dramatic flare, that's true to the experience of so many. It's my proudest moment of the faith statement, if I may gloat a little.

So as a follower of Jesus I believe that faith in the Lord God will save you.

Here's the funny part, this very Lutheran phrase was something I penned long before I ever intellectually came across its theology. I mean, I was in a Missouri Synod Church, I'm sure it was taught, but I don't remember it that way. No, the article of justification by faith was not something I really learned about until college, when I started reading Luther. Yet somehow, it already was a part of me in some way, thanks to the work of others. Take that lesson for when a person does not seem to be "taking in" what you are saying about grace, because more may be seeping in than we realize.

Another really great thing, was that my pastor chose my confirmation verse, not me. It's something I am very thankful for now. I don't know if it was because of this line, but the verse Pastor Ron chose for me was this:

Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household. -Acts 16:31

I couldn't have said it better myself. I still can't.

Annual HoF Rant: Why John McGrath is Wrong

BWAA voters for Major League Baseball's Hall of Fame are now subject to the scrutiny of having to defend their ballots. Beginning this year, ballots are being released by the Hall of Fame to show just who voted for who. No more of this anonymous sanctimonious voting without being subject to defend or explain your reasoning. It probably had something to do with guys like Maddox and Griffey not getting unanimous selections. It is indefensible beyond some unspoken, unjustifiable claim that consensus players still should not get unanimous elections (or dumber yet, the notion that you should always have to wait at least one year before getting inducted).

My hate of the Hall of Fame voting process has been well documented on this blog for years. Little on that needs to be said. Today, let me focus my rant with one particular writer: John McGrath. McGrath at least filled out a full ballot (how some only thought there were 5 or so hall worthy players in ridiculous), but he was among those who for another year denied Bonds and Clemens, clearly the two best players on the ballot, and players so good they are in the conversations for best in the history of the game.

McGrath's reasoning is laid out here. To sum it up: some players never cheated to extend their careers while these guys did and that is a clear violation of the "character clause" of the ballot.

The clause he's referring to is the language of the ballot that reads "Voting shall be based upon the player’s record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character, and the contributions to the team(s) on which the player played."

Integrity, sportsmanship, character. These are the words upon which McGrath, and enough other BWAA voters hang their hat in order to deny Bonds, Clemens, and other players of a similar painting (such as Sosa). Now let me say why he's wrong.

There really is no historical proof that the clause has ever been used to not vote for a player. Pete Rose and Shoeless Joe can't count because they were never even included on a ballot for someone to use the clause to not vote for them. I mean, we have players who doctored the ball, mound chargers, racists, adulterers, etc. We have players who did things during careers, after careers, directly related to the game or not and yet never once did that clause stop any of them from being inducted but now it is going to be used against two players who literally have a better case career-wise in being in the hall?

Really I think history has shown us the opposite. Not only has history shown us that players were not excluded from the hall on the grounds of character flaws whether they affected the game or not, but I think it shows us that the clause is more there for the opposite reason: namely, to give reason to vote for a player who might otherwise not have a career case but belongs in the hall because of other impacts on the game. That is, it gave the voters grounds to vote for players who would be excluded otherwise. Instead of trying to make it some great list of objectives to be checked off (when ever has anyone shown any effort to only vote for players that were elite on every category, meeting some great formulaic bar by averaging their character with their career?), it was to give another medium by which to declare a player a hall of famer. This clause you might say nullifies the argument that say Jackie Robinson did not have a hall of fame career, which if he were judged only on numbers, in a vacuum, like if you had not his name but only awards and counting stats in front of you a person could reasonably say "great career, but not long enough" (Robinson only played 10 MLB seasons). In fact, McGrath's whole argument is accompanied by the narrative of Dale Murphy who had great numbers, but a steep falloff. He had, too short a career of success. I think there is a fair case to be made then that Robinson is proof this clause is intended for positive use. There was a reason beyond even his numbers that he is essential to the game. Although, as Buster Olney pointed out, voters have even been historically bad at using it to vote players in noting that Robinson barely got the votes needed and Larry Dobby, first black AL player never even got 4% of the BWAA votes. That is, the clause probably helped get Robinson over the threshold, and yet still many writers didn't seem to care enough about it then to use it the way it should be used. To quote Olney, "Somewhere along the way, long after Robinson's induction and death, some writers [in our time today] determined that the scant phrasing in the character clause could be used to eliminate candidates, but apparently not used to elevate them - practice which seems to violate the wording and to underscore its absurdly subjective nature."

And he's right. While all votes are to a degree subjective, this opens up subjectivity to a whole new level. While I think Schilling should be in the hall of fame, I think he is an idiot for assuming that democrats get elected in right away but he didn't because he was a Trump-supporting republican. However, the more the BWAA uses the character clause to decide who gets in the more they are fueling his argument. After all, if you don't vote for players because they did/said something you did not like rather than because you did not think they were hall of fame caliber players, then what is to stop someone who thinks Trump is so terrible and those who voted for him must be racist too (I've seen the argument out there) from deciding that is a deal-breaking character flaw? Once you open the door to character subjectivity, it is easy to see it abused and you give reason for people to start suspecting abuse. The subjective use of the character clause invites then subject judgment of the voters' character, and by extension the hall itself. This is why it has been so scantally used even to include players. There is a reason there used to be the baseline stats that guaranteed election such as 300 wins or 500 home runs or 3000 hits. It was not simply because they over-valued those stats (funny enough those are probably the most devalued stats in the modern advanced statistic era), it was because they needed some point of objectivity. Some way of saying "beyond a shadow of a doubt these guys are hall of famers". They understood that even judging statistics was a subjective art that could be a slippery slope, so there were feats considered good enough to immortalize a player because that level of career production was considered elite. Well then you had Rafael Palmeiro who crossed both the 3000 hit and 500 home run threshold and somehow was not even good enough to stay on the ballot a few years. Bonds not only crossed the threshold, he is the all-time leader in home runs!

The point is that using the clause to hold someone back is a slippery slope of subjectivity that for years the BWAA literally took steps to avoid in even the most objective part of the game: a player's actual counting stats. 

But subjectivity and the purpose of the clause aside. Let's examine the case that steroid use is good enough grounds to not vote for Bonds and Clemens. Let's ask if that was a legit case for using the clause. After all, that's what his whole case is based on. Guys like Dale Murphy faded fast and will miss the hall for (presumably) never shooting up while guys like Clemens and Bonds had amazing careers that were outlandishly lasting.

Let me provide a counter-argument.

1) Correlation does not equal causation. This classic reminder in science should be heeded here as well. The argument is, they had a longer and better career than Murphy because of steroids. How on earth can you prove that, especially if you cannot even establish when exactly or how long or how much someone was using or would have been in decline? At best, you can make the assertion that MAYBE their career would have gone the way of Dale Murphy. In fact, before the allegations came out about Clemens, it was his work ethic and workout routine, it was his addition and mastery of the splitter that was said to prolong his career. And long before there was any speculation or worry of steroids tainting the game, there were players who had great careers and hit a wall/fell off early and there were players who were able to maintain their careers into their old age. Some players get hurt more, some recover faster and it's not always PEDs. Look at one of my favorite players in history: Satchel Paige. The guy debuted in MLB at age 42! He was 59 when he made his last MLB appearance! Are we suggesting he must have been a user to have such a long Negro Leagues career and then be able to play so late in MLB. He probably put more pitches on his arm than any player in the last 75 years.

2) But let's say you don't care, this is a grievous violation. Well, the problem is of course the clause is still being used for someone who was never empirically found guilty of PED use. Yes we have the BALCO trials (and subsequent perjury conviction, although much of those records have never been available to the public to make an informed decision on its details) and the trainer who claimed Clemens used (who Clemens pursued legal action against, although that was dismissed if memory serves), I'm not saying they were never seriously implicated. But we have no failed drug tests. So to follow the line of thought, the character clause is being used for things these players have been accused of doing, what they might have done (probably). I'm sorry, but how does that argument in any way compare to what they actually have done in their careers? Whatever doubt those allegations may have cast for someone regarding the nature of those stats, the stats are still there, and far more concrete than the case that steroids tainted them when it isn't even an open and shut case that they took steroids, public opinion of the matter aside.

3) But even if you still want to say the evidence was good and damning enough, it still comes to the fact that these were not isolated incidences to these two players. Even if Bonds and Clemens did use, which certainly seems likely, it was not like they stood out as some kind of unique case of cheaters. They only stand out because they were the best of everybody, not because of the steroids. I mean, drug testing was implemented precisely because they found there was a wide-spread problem of use across baseball. The point being that steroid use was not a problem tied simply to their character alone, it was tied to a bigger issue in the character of the game. It seems hard to use something so prevalent as a case to dismiss a few, especially those who were irregardless always counted among the elite. Even if we concede the high probability of guilt, it seems hard then to isolate the guilt to their own records alone. When we have a period now being dubbed "the steroid era" it seems hard to argue that the guilt or at least character shortage rests only on a few of the elite. Even if some benefited by favoring that corruption in the game while others did not desire its place in the game or seek to benefit from it, Although, in a game where so many stats are also a team effort, how many RBIs and runs did the Dale Murphys get because of perhaps others on their team using steroids even if they stayed clean? How many homers did Clemens still surrender to the Bonds, Sosas, and McGwires then? How many roided pitchers struck out Bonds? How many of those BWAA writers wrote about their greatness and sold them to the fans? How can the effects, benefits, and question of integrity only be put upon them then?

4) As such, how do you separate the pure from impure? I've reiterated this argument before in previous years, but if this is an era defined by steroid use, and we year in year out find new people were using, then what seems more likely is we are either penalizing people who likely never used (something people argued had been happening unfairly to Jeff Bagwell prior to this year) or we are rewarding players who were better at getting away with it. Mike Piazza is a Hall of Famer (and rightly so), yet his name certainly was under suspicion and scrutiny. Let's suppose for a minute that the suspicion about him or Bagwell was correct, yet because no one ever waved a finger or their name was never leaked they are ok? I mentioned how Clemens was never suspected until his name came up from the Mitchell report. Or take Ryan Braun, whose physique in no way suggests steroid use (in fact before his scandal Bud Selig named him as an example of the cleaned up game that has purer hitters). Maybe my argument here suffers a bit of a logical fallacy, that is it may be unfair to suggest that what we don't know about some players makes it wrong to judge on what we do know about others, since that argument could technically be applied to any player on any crime always and ever. But the specifics of this argument is still quite valid, since it is particularly in reference to steroid use in the steroid era and the difficulty in really identifying how far it went and who benefited most from it. If we have already admitted now into the hall several players from the steroid era, we have by and large removed that asterisk already and moved past the case that the integrity of the hall of fame will be brought down by the admission of players on the basis of stats from that era.

5) But let's say you could separate them. Let's assume for a minute that no one inducted from that era ever used. Let's say Bonds and Clemens benefited from steroids more than any other player who suited up for a major league team. Let's decide that ultimately they are responsible for what they did, not the wider game culture. It's on them and them alone and they need to answer for these crimes. Let's make all those assertions absent any thought of the counter arguments above. Even then, does that outweigh the numbers that say they were the best in the game? Or is that they only consideration in regards to their sportsmanship and integrity? How about Curt Schilling, another hall-worthy pitcher crediting Clemens with getting his career on track after Clemens sought him out and talked to him on how he needed to change his approach to the game? Isn't that very sportsman conduct that had a huge impact on the game? How about how Bonds has a street named after him in Harvey, IL because of his work there for underprivileged children or the Giants' fan who was brutally attacked by Dodgers fans and Bonds offered to pay for his children's college tuition? I'm sure you could find a lot of good from just about any athlete. That's not the point, but rather the point is for these athletes the good elements of their character are not even put into consideration. Seems to me, if you are ultimately going to stake your argument on the character clause, more scrutinous efforts should be put into examining these players' character.

The truth is of course, it's not their character, sportsmanship, or integrity that gets them into the hall of fame. Bonds was one of my least favorite players (a view in part because I experienced him through the tenuous relationship he and the media had), and Clemens was an intense player (though one of my favorites). I'll always remember the infamous bat throwing incident between him and Piazza (although he swore he did not mean to throw it at him). But they should be in because they were never meant to make their case on character, sportsmanship, and integrity. And as fans we never really asked them to during their hall of fame careers. Sure we like to have likeable players of good integrity to look up to, but really that wasn't the contributions that made them essential to the game and in my view essential to the hall of fame. And it seems to me more diminishing to the hall's integrity that two of its most obvious entrants are not in there.

And that, John McGrath, is why you are wrong in using integrity as a reason to keep them out.

Losing a Child - the week from hell

Four weeks ago was one of the very best days of my life. In the early morning hours my wife zoomed down the stairs to the couch where I had passed out on the night before, with something in her hand. I knew what it was right away and I knew what it meant. After over a year of trying, she was carrying a positive pregnancy test (as well as a "I'm pregnant!" look on her face). We embraced in complete joy. As I held her I looked to heaven and said thank you to my God and Father above for making me a father too. In morning prayer I sang songs and read psalms, culminating in Psalm 113, which begins with "Hallelujah" and ends with "He gives the barren woman a home, making her the joyous mother of children. Hallelujah!". We were ecstatic like never before. Two blood tests that week confirmed what we already knew: our long wait was over. Only of course to be supplanted by a new wait. Wait to tell family, wait to see if it's a boy or a girl, wait eight more months for a little cookie to come out the oven. It was hard to conceal our joy.

Many months before I had a dream where I was a dad. I had a son. A wee little baby boy who was full of laughter. All I remember from the dream was looking down on my boy on a changing table, adorned in a striped onesie, and we were having a father-son moment. I was tickling and laughing and he was giggling and kicking. It was the best dream I ever had. I remembered waking up, ready to be a father. It felt so right it felt like a sign from God. I knew that if being a dad could have that kind of feeling there was nothing in the world I wanted more. So when I woke up four weeks ago to my wife running at me, I was waking up to my dream. It was one of the very best days of my life.

One week ago was one of the very worst days of my life. We had just gotten home from Christmas with my in-laws. It was a great holiday, we had shared the news with them that we were pregnant. My sister-in-law, also expecting had found out the day before they were having a girl. We were going in for our ultrasound, with the question of whether it would be one child or multiples (because the doctors had told us we had an increased chance of multiples). We were seven weeks along. That morning we were in good spirits and sharing all our hopes and excitement. When the ultrasound started, my heart began to sink.

"We're not seeing what we should," the doctor said. Nothing more at first. I didn't know what it meant, but I was afraid of what it meant. On Sunday and Monday nights each I had dreams that we lost the child. And a fear had been growing in my heart. Now it was not fear, it was grief. The minute the ultrasound tech/nurse/doctor (I'm not sure what the title is) stopped and said quietly to my wife "I'm so sorry" I knew. We had lost our baby.

In the conversations, blood tests, and another ultrasound that followed this last week we got more details, but the outcome is always the same. We lost our child. All those hopes, joys, and smiles. I went from waking up to dreams to waking up to nightmares. And I learned just how much those who have never gone through it will never understand. You know it's bad, but you don't realize how bad. And it breaks my heart to think of all the people I know who have lost their babies, and have experienced this hell, and especially those who went through it more than once.

What follows are some reflections on the experience this last week. If nothing else, so that those who face such hells themselves might know something of someone else's experience, to at least not feel so alone in this, which you can, I know because I felt very alone that day. Like my wife and I stood grieving on an island.

In the language of stages of grief, I've been depressed, angry, and sad. Not in that order, not in any order. Just depressed some times, angry others, sad most. But none of those words really do justice to what I've been. The tears I felt stream down my face in the doctor's office were but cracks in a dam that burst not long later. And I wailed this last week - several times - like I've never wailed before. I wasn't sad, I was broken. And broken without a way to be whole. My anger surprised me, and it has not been particularly strong, as genuine anger is something I have worked years to suppress (since those who may have known me as a child may know the holy terror I could become). But it nonetheless has been there too. I noticed it yesterday at the store. I was walking towards a section and all of the sudden realized I had been cutting through the baby section, and that triggered the anger. For weeks that section was one I secretly stopped by, peaked in on, smiled over. So when I walked through there only reminded of my grief and loss, I was angry. Not at anyone in particular, just angry.

Though we were grieving differently, my wife and I felt the need to spend an inordinate amount of time together. Being together, and being occupied with entertainment became our coping in the days to follow. We went to movies, rented movies, watched movies we owned. We sat on opposite ends of the couch - me watching something with headphones on, her listening to an audiobook - just needing to be distracted and yet be together so that in those moments the grief snuck in we could hold each other.

We decided to name our baby. It was important to validate and express that this was a real loss, it was our child. I have felt defensive against the claim that I didn't lose a "child" (even though no one has made it). I loath the term miscarriage, almost as much as fetus. Both to me sound like ways of downplaying what we are actually talking about. I wanted to give the baby one of the boy names we had come up with (boy, since in my dream was a boy I "knew"this baby would be one). My wife was reluctant. I wanted to use the name to indicate it was not wasted, because my baby was not wasted. My child was real, and had already given us perhaps the happiest month of our lives without even being born yet. In the end we decided to go with a symbolic name. Something we felt honored and spoke to what we felt we lost. A name worthy of such a blessing. So we named him Isaac, baby Isaac. Isaac was a long awaited child of Abraham and Sarah, promised long before he was conceived (as Isaac was to me). Abraham and Sarah struggled with doubts along the way (as did we), even laughing at God. But Isaac finally came. God also then presented Abraham and Sarah with the greatest test they ever faced, being asked to sacrifice Isaac. Now in that story God spared Isaac. But not in ours. Yet we too felt tested in a way we never have, and we felt in some manner we were being asked - forced - to offer our child back to God. Not to have to kill him as that choice was not ours, but to have to kill everything he meant to us. It was equally lost. And in fact, only Abraham was asked, we more like Sarah were subjected to the test without knowledge or will of its undertaking. Phyllis Trible gave a lecture at Valpo once on Genesis 22 which she called "The Sacrifice of Sarah", and it was from that perspective, of waiting, finding blessing, and it being taken away without voice that made Isaac such a fitting name for us.

My Christmas spirit was totally sapped away. The upcoming Gospel reading for that Sunday was the slaughtering of the innocents of Bethlehem from Matthew 2. And believe me, it is not easy when you are so stuck in grief of losing a child to be expected to preach on Herod slaying children. I really hated Herod for that. He made mothers and fathers experience what we were going through. There's too many Herods in the world today. I did have other options. Epiphany was the upcoming Friday, I could have merely gone with that Gospel story. That Sunday also happened to be the festival of the naming of Jesus. And I could have just gone off lectionary. But that wasn't my style. And the truth is, for how hard it was to have to preach on Matthew's telling of children dying, I was unable to divert my attention from it. My mind had been on really nothing but losing a child all week. So I dared to do so, to say something of what it was for Rachel to weep for her children and refuse to be consoled because they are no more. I preached what was probably the hardest sermon of my life. Not hardest to write, but hardest to speak, because I was as much in the pew that week as I was in the pulpit, and I was as much in need as I was in sharing towards others' spiritual needs. But I don't know if I could have really preached on anything else. Thankfully the text lended itself to the occasion, and therefore allowed me to do more than just talk my own thoughts, but to illustrate and engage God's own action in Jesus Christ, to share promise even when promise refuses to comfort. Because it did. Scripture was a mild comfort, and a short lived one this last week. But not because it does nothing or offers nothing. Rather I too refused to be comforted. For some things are too great a trespass to not be so grieved.

My faith in this time has been greatly blessed by being a pastor, because I have walked with people in grief. I've known something of its stages and character, even if from afar as opposed to what it is to be in it. I still know healthy habits, I still can identify much of the stages of grief. And I know and teach that being faithful is not the same as being all put together, always happy, always feeling blessed, or always polite and tame in my prayers. Thanks to things like the Psalms and professors like Dr. Nysse who at seminary pushed for the value of raw lament and expression in dark places without a token answer or breath of air, these influences let me be very open in my own grief with God. I have found, if you will, three H's that really put well what has been important for me in my faith with God in this time: honesty, humility, and hope.

Honesty: I was honestly hurt, and lost, and despairing. I had to share it. I was honestly doubting, not so much the foundations of my belief but you might say the goodness of it. The hard truth is that contrary to what many nonbelievers may think, losses like this actually fit well into the Christian world view. I wasn't playing some theodicy in my head. Things did not seem incompatible, they simply seemed dark and despairing. And there still were the questions of Why? Why not do something? Do something now! There was still cries of loss and a begging to be remembered in the light of his countenance again. There was still a begging to not let me lose my faith in it all, for although I challenged or disbelieved nothing, I was broken, and felt too broken to hold on so that I just needed to be held by the Spirit. Cries for answers, cries for help, cries for healing, cries of how I really felt about it all and God within it. I don't think I bared my soul anywhere quite like in prayer.

Humility: This sounds unnecessary, and at times it was not there. But I think overall I really needed it to maintain my faith. I just listened to a video of an atheist who said if he died, came upon the pearly gates and realized God was real he would chew him out. And when the interviewer commented he might not be let in he said he didn't want in. Humility may be at moments the only thing that separated me from that man. In my anger, in my grief, in my self-centered world (and believe me, this grief closes the world around you fast), in even my idolatry of Isaac, I at times stood toe-to-toe with God, only in the midst to back down, to bow my head, to say with a broken heart "into your hands I commit myself: my body, my soul, all that is mine." At various points within my honesty, I still realized I was a man and God may question me like a man (a la Jo)b. I know there is more that I don't know, I know that before God I approach by grace not by entitlement, I know that I am the clay and not the potter. And I am thankful for it, to those who see subservience, or weakness, or folly within this, just know that I see grace, because humble men (and women) are the ones who rely. Humility did not let sin take such control of my honesty that it could build the great lie that there is no God. Humility let me surrender my judgment, which sounds defeatist, but is actually an important victory in my grief. Surrendering my judgment on the matter has let me accept something of God that is actually quite good: it has let God be God. God is the judge, but then God is also the benevolent judge, that is, the heavenly Father, the incarnate Savior, the sighing Spirit. Not taking from God the judgment has strangely kept a wider faith intact, a faith that ultimately let's me keep being honest.

Hope: I have needed hope and Gospel. It has not "moved" me, it has not "fixed" things, it has not taken away my sorrow over Isaac, but it has promised something I can hope in. That as Isaac shared in all things with his mother, baby Isaac might share then in the faith and grace and baptismal hope that she herself lives in. That if God knew Jeremiah before he was in the womb, and from there the baptist could leap for joy at the approaching of an expectant Mary, from there my child too could have been touched by God. Before Isaac had ears to hear or a heart to "give to Jesus", I believe Jesus really gave something to Isaac. And one day, the child I never held or beheld, I will find is in some way held and holden to God. Jesus has always been able to do more and go further than I with every person I have ever known, so I will hope in him one more time. I have hope for myself too. I thought of Psalm 51 asking God to "restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain me with a willing spirit." I have hope he will.

I put it that way, because right now I don't have joy - in church or elsewhere. It is returning. But in those first days I scarcely laughed or smiled (hardly my default mode, as those who know me can attest). My wife and I had a wonderful moment on Monday, where we held each other down for the dogs to kiss. We were laughing and smiling and fooling around, and I realized after I had not had a moment like that since I first heard the news. I am joking more with people and more able to be by others, which for a while I was not. And I am moving more towards this joy in faith too. Last week, one day I was at church trying to do some work and I went to pray and pray and pray with open tears. And finally in desperation I was calling out to God for something, to tell me something, and I noticed a pew bible sitting next to me. Desperate I opened it in search of a word and on the first page I was hooked. The bible was bookmarked in Job, and I found myself reading Job's laments, his feelings. Things like "Truly the thing that I fear comes upon me, and what I dread befalls me. I am not at ease, nor am I quiet; I have no rest; but trouble comes." That was where I was. And reading it, finding momentary comfort even in sections of the words of his friends (such as "How happy is the one whom God reproves; therefore do not despise the discipline of the Almighty. For he wounds, but he binds up; he strikes, but his hands heal"), but also Job's refusal to settle for their words. I was at home. And by the time I was done reading I was oddly peaceful. Not comforted, yet peaceful. It was therapeutic to my grief as a person of faith to read those words and find something that expressed my loss of Isaac. In fact, my first you might say "God reflection" within all of this was in the car from the doctor's paraphrasing slightly Job's words "The Lord gave, and now he's taken away." Perhaps when we are in our dark places, when we are feeling lost, when we are hurt, it isn't the comforting passages that lead us back, but the crappy ones. The laments we normally don't get, don't read, or don't like. But that is why they are so powerful, because when I lost Isaac, I didn't get or like much of anything going on.

In the realm of unexpected comforts (or at least being drawn to unexpected places), I was drawn this morning in prayer to the famous Wesley hymn "O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing". I didn't know why, I didn't want to sing it at first. The song begins with this call to sing the Redeemer's praise, something I was struggling with doing. But it was the following verses that drew me in. I knew I was struggling with praise and joy, and verse two reads quite appropriately, "My gracious Master and my God, assist me to proclaim", it was a verse I played and prayed over and over, and with more and more gusto in the music, passionately praying through a hymn of praise for help praising. But there were also helpful words in verse three, "The name of Jesus charms our fears and bids our sorrows cease" and verse four "He speaks, and list'ning to his voice, new life the dead receive; the mournful, broken hearts rejoice," all words that spoke very deeply to me. If you have any doubt that you cannot preach to yourself, just be in grief. But the words of others, like Wesley there, like Job's, or in a myriad of other places, like in a commentary I read on the Isaiah reading for last Sunday which said, "We are comforted in knowing that the Lord shares our distress and pain. He is not distant, detached, or remote from any of his people. In all our afflictions, God himself is afflicted." For all the random places that have reminded me of Isaac, from the little onesie on a dresser, to the children's section in a store, to the mention of a baby on tv, to looking at a baseball and lamenting I will never play catch with Isaac, for all those reminders, God has been placing reminders too. Counter-reminders. Comforters. And though the comfort fades fast, or offers little actual comfort, they all hold on to me. They all also remind me of the Father above and Christ below. That gives me some form of hope, that God has not given up on comforting me even when I am not comforted.

If there has been a turning point for me, it has been Sunday. On Sunday, teary-eyed I told my church what happened, and as I mentioned preached on something of what I went through. I knew I had to tell them, if nothing else so that they understood why I was not myself, and seemed weary and not cheerful, why my energy was low and why at any given moment I could tear up. And if I didn't there would be the endless stream of well-intended "How was your Christmas?" like any normal, conversation would expect. And we would have to think of how to answer. For the practicality of it all I felt I had to tell them. But really it was for the support. I decided very early, saying that Wednesday as we made the long drive home from the clinic that I needed my people. I needed the church. And as I told them with teary eyes, they listened with teary eyes of their own. As they left the sanctuary that day they, like at a funeral, each offered condolences, gave me a hug, shed tears with me. In a week that had been so very alone, finally we didn't feel alone. If ever there was a place where God reaches out and reminds us, there it was.

What was also apparent from that moment was how many people too shared this pain themselves. How many, either themselves or their families suffered the same and worse yet sometimes suffered it over and over. I don't know if they all had the support they felt they needed or if they felt alone. I don't know what their grief is like, we each really do grieve differently. But I knew in that moment, that this is not something we should be silent about. It's why I write this. I write to process for myself, but also to speak up, to share with others. To again say how real the grief is because Isaac was real. I was reading a book for those in grief this week and it most succinctly described the uniqueness of loss by miscarriage, stillbirth, or early infant death, saying it isn't as simple as saying you can have another or at least you weren't too attached because I was attached and I wanted to have this baby! I wanted Isaac. And others may not know how many times in a month you can cup your wife's stomach and celebrate that you are having a baby. They may not know how often I said goodnight to Isaac even though (as my wife regularly reminded me) he didn't have ears yet. Others will never realize how much of our future we began to plan and alter for Isaac. I was very attached. And should I ever father another child, that child will be a blessing in her own right not a replacement for the blessing Isaac was. I'm fortunate no one said anything quite as ridiculous to me. But I'm still afraid they will. I'm still certain no one understands! That's why it feels so lonely. As much as Isaac's world was only his mother's womb, so our world felt small in a way, because one of the greatest parts of it was confined to our family and a few friends with inside knowledge. That's why I felt the need for the world to know my grief, that if nothing they may know Isaac through it. When I was a boy, I would acolyte for funerals, even of people I never knew. But you learned something of people at funerals. I liked funerals for that reason. That Sunday, in the love and care my people showed me, they let me open Isaac's world a little bit more. And that meant the world to me. Perhaps no one said anything bad because of that, maybe because they all know that if scripture was not comforting me those stagnate platitudes would not do the trick. Maybe too many of them suffered at the hand of those platitudes themselves. Either way, I have grieved with fear that my child will be dismissed by the world, and my grief will be expected to move on. And even with all this evidence to the contrary, I still carry that phobia.

December was the best and worst month of my life. Isaac has been promised and given back to God. Faith has been on a roller coaster of God moments amid the vast dark void that dominates the ride. And fear remains even as people continually offer the support I desperately needed. I am finding more light each day, and with it, I'm able to smile and laugh, something I previously felt guilty doing. I still cry. I've only gone one day without tears. And small things still set me off in sorrow and depression at a drop of a hat. I was going to say "but," except I don't have a but at this time. Buts may make for better writing, but they don't always exist. Some things just hurt, and they aren't worth the "bright side" talk. And losing Isaac was one of them. There is no bright side right now. Even the talk of God and faith and God moments are less a bright side and more being able to find God in the dark abyss. "if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there...If I say surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light around me become night, even the darkness is not dark to you..." but it is to me.

Four weeks ago I woke up to a dream. A week ago I woke up to a nightmare. I don't know what there is to wake to next. Thanks for reading. Thanks to all who are patiently walking with me.

Thank you Isaac for the brief time we had. Daddy loves you, and he will always remember.

*note: I have followed this post up with later Reflections for any who wish to read them

Baseball Christmas Lists: 3 Teams - 3 Moves

Time for a little baseball talk.

I love the offseason because of all the possibility it brings. Teams that seems irrelevant one year burst on the scene and make big offseason noise. While teams like the Red Sox and White Sox have dominated headlines, here are 3 teams that with a couple of possibly realistic moves could drastically improve their team for the 2017 season:

New York Yankees
The Yanks really did what I wanted them to do most this offseason: which was resign Ardolis Chapman for < $100mm and not blow all their young talent on a trade. I was lukewarm at best on Matt Holliday (although he has potential to be a great pickup, and at one year isn't likely to really be a "bad move"). But now New York can focus on some smaller moves that can put them in a place to contend without being "all in" moves.

1. Sign Brett Anderson. I did think Rich Hill would have been a good move for New York. But I understand not wanting to commit that kind of money to such an aging/injury prone recent phenom. That is why I like them as a place for Brett Anderson. Anderson is still young enough (He'll be 29 on opening day) to maintain his upside. At one point he was a future ace for Oakland, and has at 3 different seasons posted sub-3.00 ERAs, and has a solid career ERA of 3.86 (105 ERA+)and an even better career FIP (3.70). He is just a season removed from a strong season of 180.1 innings of 3.69 baseball. His downsides are he had a horrible year last season in terms of longevity and performance and that is saying much on the longevity side since he is consistently injured. In fact he has only amassed >100IP 3 times in his career. His upside and injury risk make him like a riskier-lesser Rich Hill; not as sexy but also not as expensive. And New York has only 3 players who are really locks for their rotation (Sabathia, Tanaka, and Pineda) who all are no sure thing on the health front, meaning they should take the risk because even if Anderson is likely no good for a full season they could benefit greatly from having him for even half a season. Additionally, while they have some interesting rotation pieces, they could certainly offer him a real chance to start rather than other teams where signing on he would be more of a depth piece. And while other high-risk pitchers may offer more upside (ala Tyson Ross), Anderson will likely cost the team much less to take the risk.

2. Acquire Hernan Perez from MIL for Leonardo Molina OR Donny Sands. The Yankees have a lot of young guys who will be getting extended looks this year and could use some players who offer positional versatility. Perez (26 in March) is just that. This last year for the Brewers he played all IF and OF positions, proving to be a true utility player. And while he hardly is an astute defender at any position, it is that flexibility that will make him valuable to New York who may have to send some guys down to get more cuts in the minors at times. Not only is Perez a cheap, young, controllable guy they can plug in wherever they need him, he also this last year started to show himself to be a solid offensive piece as well. In 123 games for MIL in 2016 he hit 13 homers and stole 34 bases. The main weakness in his game is he doesn't walk much, but he at least hits for solid average (in over 200 games for Milwaukee he hit just over .270). All in all he is a very valuable bench piece to plug in for injuries/off days or for things like late game pinch running. On the other side of the trade, Molina and Sands were both ranked at the back end of MLB.com's midseason top 30 organizational prospect ranking with Molina coming in as New York's 28th best prospect and Sands ranked at 26. Molina however has probably greater upside and in fact has a 5-tool ceiling, but he is way behind in New York's depth chart and still years away (2019 ETA per the site) making him expendable. Sands also has a 2019 ETA, and was an 8th rounder drafted in 2015. He was a SS/P moved to 3B when drafted and then to C, where I imagine his intrigue for MIL would come in as their best C prospect (Nottingham) does not seem a sure thing to stick at the position. Both players are low enough that New York could afford to deal them but either one should be quality enough to garner Milwaukee's interest in a trade.



3. Sign Jorge De La Rosa. These moves seem so small scale for New York, but they make sense. The benefit of De La Rosa, a LHP who has spent quite some time now in the unfriendly pitching confines of COL is he can start or pitch relief. In fact, while most players of that tune are more likely seeking starting gigs, De La Rosa was clear he is willing to pitch relief. That means New York could sign him as a bit of a swing man, intending to use him in the pen, but able to switch him to the rotation in the likely event one of their starters is injured. He just makes sense as a depth option and is helpful by his openness to also pitching relief, which too many pitchers are grumpy about (ask Matt Garza if you don't believe me). And frankly, any guy who can survive Coors can compete in the AL East.

Houston Astros
Houston made some noise early in the offseason, adding Carlos Beltran, Brian McCann, Nori Aoki, and Charlie Morton. They are positioning themselves to be a tough team, combining this now young core of players with the necessary accompaniments.

1. Acquire Drew Smyly from TB for Forrest Whitley OR David Paulino, Daz Cameron OR Teoscar Hernandez, and Brady Rogers OR Guadalupe Chavez and Mike Fiers. It's no secret that Houston wants to improve its rotation. I can understand why as their current #1-3 starters all have great potential but have varying question marks. They were long said by many to be a good match for the White Sox's remaining gem Jose Quintana, but the cost is likely too much. Houston spent years in obscurity to build up this system and that kind of deal is just not worth it, not especially when they have a solid enough rotation that they don't need an ace or #2 pitcher. Still, it would help. This deal aims at one of the ones who may be available and attainable at a non-system gutting price. The price will be high still, because of how poor the free agent market was for starters, but Smyly had a down year and durability concerns enough that his price should still be attainable. Whitley or Paulino, both top 100 prospects on mlb.com's midseason report (69 and 70 respectfully) would be the headliner. Cameron or Hernandez would give a second top 10 team prospect and provide Tampa with an OF, an area they could improve upon organizationally, and the last prospect choice (between Rogers who has less upside but more MLB ready and Chavez who has a little more upside but is further away) is the cost of a pitcher in this market I think. Even with two top 10 prospects from a deep organization, 1 being a top 100 prospect, it will still likely take one more to get things done. Fiers also is a nice pickup for Tampa, giving them an immediate (albeit lesser) replacement who has some upside of his own. Why do this? Because before last season Smyly looked like a budding ace having delivered seasons of 2.37, 3.24, and 3.11 ball. He also has a strong career k/9 rate of 8.7 and a 3.43 k/bb ratio. He could step into the #2 or #3 spot of Houston's rotation and greatly improve their overall pitching outlook (if he can remain healthy of course).

2. Sign Tyson Ross. The second move to strengthen the rotation is Ross. Near about any team in baseball could be in on Ross right now, and if healthy he could likely step into any rotation. How healthy he will be is the question, and how much he will cost is the issue. Ross is rumored to be seeking 9-10mm to pitch for someone. Houston could go one of several routes I think: offer the money, or offer less guaranteed money (say 6mm) with either a lot of incentives to boost it well beyond that total (like to 12-13mm) or include 1-2mm in incentives AND a player option at a similar rate, offering Ross the choice to have another season of guaranteed money or to reenter the market if he fares well in 2017. Either way, Ross's success in SD is just too strong to ignore, and would make him a great addition to the rotation, even if only for part of the season. And pitching for a winner should hold some appeal in its own right. This would also prevent division rival teams like, Los Angeles, Seattle and Texas, all of whom would also have real reasons to add Ross.

3.Sign Brandon Moss. Houston has some uncertainty at LF and 1B, where guys like Reed, Aoki, and Gattis may be taking the bulk of the time. Additionally, Beltran while he has been so good for so long, is getting up there quickly in age. Depth at these positions, quality depth, would be wise. Moss adds another guy into that mix of 1B/LF/DH types. He has shown, including last year, some serious pop in his bat yet with the glut of similar types of rocky defense, big power hitters in this market he isn't likely to cost the team too much. Perhaps a 2 year deal in the $10-$16mm range. That's a modest commitment for a guy who hit 19 or more homers in each of the last 5 seasons, include 28 last year (his 3rd time hitting 25 or more) in only 128 games.

Colorado Rockies
What the Rockies really need is to build a completely indoor stadium like the Metrodome, where they can control air pressure more and make the place playable for pitchers. Or simply move to another city. But since neither of those seem likely to happen anytime soon, how about we settle for a couple deals that could put this fringe contender in a place to be a real contender if some of their young players continue to improve.

1. Trade Carlos Gonzalez to BAL for Darrin O'Day and PTBNL. The O's are still looking for an OF upgrade, the Rockies have a surplus of OF. While Blackmon is the more appealing option, he seems at this point less likely to be dealt as the teams that needed him the most and would pay well for him prospect wise seem to have all moved on, thus I think Car-Go is the more likely trade candidate. According to MLBtraderumors, Baltimore balked at a Jay Bruce for Brad Brach swap. I think a Cargo-for-Brach would be a good deal, but I'm not sure BAL would do that with all the salary they would be taking on, and they would be taking on a lot with Car-Go's 20mm 2017 salary. But being a one-year rental might be nice for BAL as they have a small window of contention anyways so they may prefer short term commitments. Coming back in the deal, COL adds to their bullpen. A Colorado team needs more than a good starter, it needs a good bullpen. Therefore O'Day, who has a career 2.41 ERA, and has through his career stranded 75% of his inherited runners would be a good addition. And while pricey, he is controllable for 3 more seasons. It's hard to gauge how the 1-for-1 element lines up, but I think it would be reasonable to expect Baltimore to contribute a minor leaguer in this deal, just who though is hard to determine and will be left as a player to be named later. Ultimately the deal is about adding a quality reliever while opening up a spot in the crowded OF and adding financial relief so that they can...

2. Sign Matt Wieters. I really liked COL as a site for C Jason Castro. Castro was a great receiver, but a light hitting catcher. He seemed perfect for Colorado since the confines would perhaps attract him so he could boost his offense hitting there while bringing him in would improve pitching theoretically since he was a good game caller and pitch framer. If Colorado cannot use free agency to bring in good pitchers, they should try using it to bring in catchers who can improve their current pitchers. While he is not as good defensively, Wieters does bring defensive upside with him along with offensive upside that would play well in Colorado. He could shore up what has long been a position of weakness for the Rockies. And the available funds from trading Gonzalez should make adding him possible. It will also allow Desmond to move to OF so the team can...

3. Sign one of Chris Carter, Mark Trumbo, Mike Napoli. The Trumbotron would be the best here I think. His power would play well, he could probably handle 1B halfway decently, and the team already surrendered its first-rounder when it signed Desmond so he will only cost a 2nd round draft pick. But I'm not sure they will have the budget space for him post-Wieters signing. If not, Napoli is a winner, a fan-favorite, a capable defender, and still has some power as he displayed last year for AL Champion Cleveland. But Carter may be cheaper, and still brings walks and way more power to the game as he led the NL in homers last year at 41. Any one of them will add pop, the question is really the price difference as to which one makes the most sense for Colorado. If I had to pick only one, I'd go with Napoli as the better combo of defense and power and the desire to excite the fanbase while more likely being in their price range.

So that's my picks to improve New York's depth, Houston's rotation, and round Colorado out a bit. What are your thoughts?