By Jim Segaar

​Last Sunday I managed to get my church work done earlier than usual. I had things wrapped up by 6 p.m., leaving time for Jim Ginn and me to go out for Chinese food. When we returned home, I decided to settle into the living room and call my sister Dot. I took out my phone, and noticed that she had texted me: “Are you aware of the eclipse? It has started.”
 
Eclipse! No, I wasn’t aware. I hauled up the heavy blinds over our east window and was delighted to see the moon glowing over Madison Park. I called my sister, and we chatted for nearly an hour while watching the eclipse together – she from Minneapolis and me from Seattle. It was one of the most pleasant evenings I’ve had in recent memory. Perhaps even life-changing. Life-expanding.
 
I continued watching the eclipse after we hung up, and I found myself contemplating my recent decision to resign my position as communications director at SFBC. That famous verse, Ecclesiastes 3.1, came to mind: “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven...”  I hadn’t known about the eclipse until my sister’s text, and watching it turned out to be the perfect way to spend the evening. In the same way, a few months ago I didn’t realize it was time for me to leave my church job, but recent events have convinced me that it is time for me to move on.
 
Five years ago this month I agreed to take a new position maintaining the church’s web presence, including the website and social media. It’s been a bountiful experience – with lots of successes, lots of technical irritants, and some great opportunities to share our communal life with the world. It has also been exhausting. I didn’t take a week off for the first two years, and I always had more things on my To Do list than I had time and energy. Between my own ideas and the requests of others the opportunities truly were endless.
 
A year ago I started an effort to reign in my effort and time spent on the job, but it didn’t work. I hated to say “No” to other people’s requests, and I didn’t want to ignore my own ideas. For a while I thought the answer was to increase the number of hours per week I was compensated for, but that wasn’t a workable solution. In December it became clear that it was time for me to move on.
 
And so, on February 1, I begin a new phase in my life – one of full retirement. At least for now. I’m looking forward to devoting more time and energy to things I love – the outdoors, writing, watching the world go by with our dogs – and less time and energy to things I don’t love so much – figuring out Facebook’s constantly changing interfaces and usage statistics comes to mind. 
 
It has been a great five years. I’ve been challenged and blessed in equal measures. I’m proud of the work we did together, and I cherish the people I’ve worked with. I especially want to thank two folks. Kellie Whitlock has been a great partner and I truly appreciate all that she does for our church. And Lupe Carlos III, his love of photography and artistic genius, enriched our content and gave me much-appreciated scheduling flexibility. 
 
And now it is someone else’s turn to guide our online ministry. We have a huge opportunity to serve our own community and reach out to the world at large online. I have every confidence that a new generation will take us even further forward into cyberspace. And I look forward to continuing to be part of the SFBC community – singing and writing more and running around less!

​I believe there is more gold in this sunset on the Washington coast than there is in Fort Knox.
 
When we hunger for good things – beauty, love, companionship – we are satisfied.
 
When we crave wealth, power, and status, we go hungry.
 
On this Christmas, let’s give and receive what matters most. 

​#NextGen
REFLECT: Christmas Day reminds us that humans are special. God loves us so much that God was born in the form of a tiny baby, someone so young that needed lots of help to live. Today, remember that humans are special. Remember that your family is special. Remember that YOU are special. 

​I was born in the mountains, and to this day that is where I am most likely to find the holy in life.
 
Mountains can be mighty without being arrogant. They are mighty simply being themselves. They provide challenge. Beauty. Wonder. Splendor. Mountains make me feel small, in the best possible way. Not insignificant, but in perspective. Surrounded by majesty such as we saw near Banff, Alberta, we skied through mighty mountains that exist on a different scale than I will ever achieve.
 
Mountains. Mighty One. Holy.
 
For me, they go together.

​#NextGen
SHARE: Ask someone you love about a time when they felt mighty. They might tell a story about when their muscles felt strong. Or maybe they will tell a story about when their heart felt strong. There are lots of ways to be mighty. We can be mighty in our bodies and in our minds and in our hearts. 

Zion National Park is an impressive sight. Huge cliffs spring up around a roaring river. The scale of the scenery can feel overwhelming, even scary, at times. And yet, even in Zion, little things matter.
 
Angel’s Landing is a well-known hike in Zion. The trail climbs 1,500 feet in just over two miles, culminating in a dizzying perch that looks as if only an angel could land there. Ultimately, I turned back at the top – it was simply too scary for me to continue. But I still remember this pool, an enchanting spot that we hiked by on the way up and down.
 
A lowly pool remains precious to me. A frightening scramble on high rock – not so much.
 

​#NextGen
REFLECT: Magnifying means making something bigger. How can you magnify a picture? How can you magnify a worm? How can you magnify love? How can you magnify kindness?

​It seems that Jesus didn’t have standards for the types of people who he interacted with. I grew up believing that church and life in general required standards, high standards. And most of the time I didn’t meet them. But slowly I learned that even I have a place in the realm of God. Even I can approach Jesus and ask, “Teacher, what should I do?”
 
I’ve learned the same lesson about natural beauty. I used to think that beauty was only found in the standard places – national parks, expensive resorts, private beaches. But I’ve learned that it is possible to find beauty in every location, every life. Even in a county park in arid central Washington state, surrounded by snakes, on a hot afternoon. Even in my life, when I am feeling dried up and cracked.

#NextGen
ACT: Every person is precious. Today, tell everyone in your family “You are a beloved child of God. I love you.”

​The concept of repentance can seem very unappealing, even destructive. I was raised to think of repentance as feeling extremely sorry, admitting guilt, owning up to being wrong. But I often missed a critical part of the concept.
 
Change. To repent means to change. Change your exercise routine and diet to lose weight. Change your route to go in a new direction. Change your life. It is not a passive activity. It is active. Real.
 
To have a life changing experience like seeing a frozen waterfall in Yellowstone Canyon, one must be willing to go out into the cold.

#NextGen
WATCH: The world around us changes every day. Look for how something changes today. Maybe it’s how much light there is when you wake up. Maybe it’s how much snow is on the ground. Maybe you change how you feel during the day. Pay attention.

​This pastoral scene from the Cotswolds in England speaks “gentleness” to me. But it might be too much – too gentle. The image of this ewe and her lamb takes gentleness to the level of stereotype. There were lambs frolicking everywhere when we visited. At the same time, lamb chops were on sale in all the food stores.
 
It’s easy for me to be sarcastic in the face of gentleness. But which is more valuable. I find it easy to get my fill of oh-so-witty humor, but I’ve never overdosed on gentleness.
 
When’s the last time you thought the world was too gentle of a place?

#NextGen
REFLECT: How do you be gentle? How do you touch something gently, like a baby bunny? How do you say something gently, being very kind and careful? Who is gentle to you?

​When we were children we used to groan at our mother’s comments while driving. “Isn’t that beautiful!” she would gush at the most mundane scenery. Even in the middle of eastern Montana where to our young eyes there was nothing.
 
And so we treat life, expecting to find the glorious only in specific places, with specific people, and specific times. We attempt to surround ourselves in just the right circumstances so that we can live gloriously. But glory is clever. It pops up when least expected. And at times, the more glorious experiences are those that we almost missed.
 
I didn’t expect to see this glorious scene in Kings Canyon in California. But as the sun set, there it was.

#NextGen
SHARE: Tell someone you love about a time when you saw something “glorious.” When you were surprised and amazed by something, whether it is really big like a mountain or really small like a mouse. Sometimes glory is surprising!

It’s easy to take water for granted, until you’ve been extremely thirsty. Out on a dusty trail with nothing to drink. Or filthy. Covered in dust and dried muck, stinking, with no way to clean up.
 
But water is so much more than a necessity. It is a seasoning for life, adding flare and beauty to any scene. These fall leaves in Vermont were beautiful in their own right, but reflected in water they became incredible.
 
Let our lives be like water. Reflecting the beauty and kindness around us. Amplifying it.

​#NextGen
WATCH: Watch for where you see water in your home and in your neighborhood. How does the water shape things around it? 

​I’ve traveled a lot in my life. For years much of my travel was for work, but even in the early days I made time and money for pleasure travel. And my memories of those trips are precious to me.
 
And yet, I always am ready to be home again. I love the beauty, adventure, and excitement of travel to out-of-the-way places. But home really is where my heart is.
 
It doesn’t hurt that home has places like Mount Rainier to visit.
 
Bring us home on love’s renewing tide to the place of our belonging…

#NextGen
REFLECT: What makes a place home? What people? What places? What things? How do you make a home?