The Undiscovered Country

A good friend of mine in Canada has been out of work for almost a year. I spent this past weekend with him to commiserate and try to encourage, and as with every time I return to our home country, I was amazed by how much it has changed…

Donald Trump, an objectively treasonous criminal, all-round foul human being, and once again candidate for President, recently (and actually) channeled Hitler by saying of immigrants “They’re poisoning the blood of our country.” So I guess that’s one take. I’d suggest maybe a little more nuance is in order…

Let’s be clear, there’s only one race in discussion here: the human race. Based on the establishing principles of both Canada and the US, members of that race are entitled to dignity and basic human rights. In my religion, every individual is created in the likeness of God, and as such, should be respected. However, it doesn’t necessarily follow that all humans are entitled to live where ever they want. Nations need security and sovereignty, and there is something to be said for honoring and protecting cultural uniqueness.

So somewhere between not drowning children in rivers full of razor wire, and not throwing borders wide open, is a rational position on immigration. Do we still have the ability to reason out what that might be? Or has civilization fallen so low that we can’t even discuss things like this sanely any more?

Nicole and I are immigrants to the U.S. My dad and Nicole’s grandmother were both immigrants to Canada. My family has benefited from legal immigration processes that required time and effort and paperwork — but ultimately were worthwhile. In fact, my Permanent Resident status is under a National Interest Waiver, meaning my guest country believes its in their interest to have me here. So I’m definitely pro-immigration.

On the other hand, its hard to argue that Canada’s permissive immigration policies of late have been good for that country. Its population grew by 1 million in 2022, spurred largely by international immigration. Only this month have they set a cap on temporary residents — it took two years for that government to realize the impact of changing the size of your population by 2.5% annually. Canada is a country that mostly lives within a 200 km strip along its southern border — there’s only so much real estate to go around; eventually the market will price out the country’s own citizens. That’s not a xenophobic or uncompassionate statement, its simply a factual one: people need a place to live, and single family home prices have more than doubled in a decade — with little indication of slowing. The current government has done very little to address this self-made crisis, and its that lopsided policy that lacks actual compassion.

Update 3/28: This year we hit 1 million new residents in a few months.

The job market has changed as a result, as well. Canada’s Temporary Foreign Worker program offers hope to immigrants, but yesterday the government acknowledged it needs some “adjustment”. Turns out that employers are all too happy to offer predatorily low wages to immigrants, who will work for cheaper than citizens, on the theory that they’ll find a way to stay. That’s not fair to those temporary workers — who won’t be able to afford the astronomically high home prices — nor to the citizens, losing job opportunities to visitors.

But the really difficult issue to address is the cultural impact. Its not the “blood of a country” that is at risk — again, we all bleed the same kind of blood — but we are in a moment of cultural upheaval here in the U.S. and Canada. Many of our traditionally held positions are being tested, and some, rightfully, being discarded. How we chart a course in the culture war between increasingly extreme right and left is a challenging enough problem on its own. Now add the cultural uniqueness, background and debates from around the world into our milieu of ineffective political discourse, and you’ve got a melting pot ready to boil over…

I re-watched Star Trek VI after I got back from Canada. Its a transparent allegory of post-Cold War tensions. The war-like enemy race, the Klingons, have suffered a fatal blow to their empire, and need to seek peace with the (American-like) Federation in order to survive. Former commanders and war heroes from both sides find themselves re-tasked as Ambassadors, in an awkward transition to a new era. I won’t give the story away, but suffice it to say, not everyone is ready for assimilation. “If there is to be a brave new world,” says the Klingon chancellor to Captain Kirk, “it will be our generation that has the hardest time living in it.”

When I go back to visit Ontario, its readily apparent that the face of my home province has changed drastically. Anywhere you stop for coffee along the 401 corridor, the culture has changed. It doesn’t look like where I grew up — and I’m not saying that’s necessarily bad. I’ve had the privilege of experiencing other cultures in other countries many times in my life, and I can readily acknowledge that WASPy North America does not have a lock on the best way to live, work, or relate to each other. Its good and appropriate that we acknowledge and learn from each other. Its important too, to ensure that a host country has an opportunity to teach newcomers what makes their new home so wonderful, and give immigrants an opportunity to contribute to the culture they have joined.

A compassionate immigration policy, with a reasonable process, that admits a manageable number of newcomers annually — while leaving enough discretionary room to respond to real global emergencies when they happen — makes sense.

Above all, however, its important to acknowledge the worth and importance of every individual, and the common likeness we all share. When we fail to do so, or when a political candidate’s rhetoric sows fear and hatred, we de-humanize each other — and as a result, dehumanize ourselves. One of Canada’s more brilliant moves is a sponsorship program, where Canadian families play initial host to refugees, helping them find their way functionally and culturally in their new home. Not only does it help immigrants transition, but it gives Canadian citizens a way to learn about newcomers’ cultural backgrounds, creating common ground and a non-threatening way to head off xenophobia at the individual level. Tying immigration thresholds to availability of these support programs helps set a pace that is empathetic to everyone.

Once again, we have two crappy Presidential candidates here in the U.S. In Canada, its increasingly clear our P.M. has no idea what he’s doing. Immigration is a pawn in a game clumsily played by the inept, cognitively-impaired people we keep choosing to lead our countries. Their stupid maneuverings have catastrophic impact on individual people, and the economies we depend on. While human beings are created in the likeness of God, our countries and our governments most definitely were not!

The writer of Hebrews had this to say about those the Lord considers faithful: All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. Literally, this is not our home — we’re just passing through! God has a completely different kind of country in mind for His people.

Jesus himself had a few words to say on how we must treat those in need while we’re here: Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me… Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’

Not what Jesus had in mind for “the least of these”

I’m not sure I could create an immigration policy better than either of my two countries, but I do know that both have room improve. We can’t afford to live in Canada, the place we were born, in no small part, because of immigration; in many ways we’ve been literally locked out of our own country. But what’s happening at America’s southern border is inhumane and cruel, and must be condemned. The secular AND religious founding principals of this country provide no allowance for how desperate migrants are currently being treated: we hold these truths to be self-evident — and we must do better.

Driving in the Future – An Addendum

Last fall I wrote about the challenges driving our new PHEV for business, and how I was convinced that a ICE engine was still a requirement. It turns out that such conclusions may need to be made regionally…

This past week, I’ve been in Texas for a couple of conferences. One of them was over the weekend, and while working on the weekend isn’t fun, it was fun that Nicole could join me for a day exploring the lovely city of Austin during the South-by-Southwest Festival. We ate Texas sized steak, went to an exclusive rooftop party (that was totally not our kind of scene), hit some golf balls, and took a nice boat tour on the lake. Monday morning, I dropped her at the airport, and headed to the second conference, 192 miles away in Dallas… in an all electric rental car.

They told us when we picked it up that it was a hybrid, which I felt comfortable with. We were 20 minutes away, in downtown traffic, before I realized that there was no gas gauge — only a battery gauge, slowly dropping. We briefly entertained turning around to exchange the car, but decided that by now, we should know how to make this work. Besides, it was a brand new BMW i4, fully loaded and very, very nice to drive.

Our hotel in Austin had standard AC charging equipment, and enough of it functional that we were able to charge up fully. I planned my road trip with a stop at a “Fast Charger” on the highway, and crossed my fingers that the infrastructure would be better in Texas than in the Midwest. I was not disappointed.

There are two kinds of chargers (well, there are lots of kinds of chargers, but for non-Tesla owners, two that matter.)

An AC charger is highly variable in speed, depending on how many amps the outlet can provide. On our cars, with relatively small batteries, a standard 10amp outlet will provide the full 55-75 mile (depending on the car) range in about 12 hours. A 20amp outlet will do the same in about 5 hours.

A DC Fast Charger is expensive equipment, with a big, fat intimidating connector, on a three-phase connection, that dumps juice into the car as fast as it will take it. You can’t install these at home, but where the infrastructure exists, they are a game changer. My rental car charged from 62% to 100% in the time it took me to eat lunch, giving me a fresh range estimate of 295 miles. It requires having a couple different apps on your phone to get access to the equipment from various providers, but here in Texas, its been easy to find well-serviced, clean, and functional DC Fast chargers every 100 miles or so. This is a big State, so I’m sure there are spots that are more barren, but everywhere I’ve needed to go has been easily within range. This evening I drive back from Dallas to Austin to catch a flight home tomorrow. Worst case, I don’t charge at all, and return the rental with ~35% battery left.

As they say on these internets, YMMV, but if you can afford a modern all-electric car, and live in an area with good charging infrastructure, driving an EV as your primary — or even only — vehicle, is possible. In some places, the future is now. Turns out its the U.S. Midwest that hasn’t gotten there yet…

So I Tied An Onion To My Belt – 2023 Edition

I’ve heard a lot of complaints about 2023 being a tough year, but for our family, we don’t really have much bad to say for it. Compared to pandemic years, it was pretty great, in fact.

We started off the year with notice that our Green Cards were on the way — after 14 years as guests, we were finally invited to be permanent residents. This adjustment of status meant easier, less stressful travels, an identity for Nic, and new professional options for me. We began flexing our new freedom almost immediately — starting with a vacation in Dominican with old friends and travel buddies from Canada, while my parents hopped across the pond to stay with the kids.

Upon our return, we dove into exploring careers. Ben got, then quit, his first job. Nic applied, and was hired for, her first job since before Ben was born. And I quit my job, to start my own consulting business. These changes had varying levels of success…

I made Ben quit, when it became clear his fast food overlords were only too happy to take advantage of his eager work ethic. Nic’s part time role frequently requires more hours of her than advertised, but occasionally makes up for it with stories of the elementary school kids she helps feed. And starting a business has provided a rich new set of lessons, challenges, highs and lows, that have provided more opportunity for growth than I could have predicted. I’m very lucky that my previous employer was eager to purchase my services (although their accounting department isn’t quite as eager to pay my invoices on time.) Its also been great to explore other connections and relationships, and pursue other opportunities.

2023 also saw milestones for the girls. Eli kicked off her summer with a broken collarbone, and subsequent surgery, Abi secured her learner’s permit on her first try, and we all had a wonderful summer where we stuck pretty close to home. Then the girls capped their vacation off by getting baptized in a beautiful outdoor service at our sweet little country church, witnessed by friends, church family, and Canadian family who were able to make the trek.

In the latter half of the year, we all had a getaway with the aforementioned travel buddies, the kids mostly succeeded at their academic endeavors, and we enjoyed Christmas in Ohio with my folks hopping over again from England, followed by more Christmas in Canada with Nic’s family. We also received the bonus gift of a new, un-asked-for (at least by me!) kitten, living in our car.

In fact, if I have a complaint about 2023, it was that maybe we’ve all gotten a little too comfortable. 8 years in the same place more than doubles our previous record, and while Ohio has its up-sides, the 60mph wind whipping snow at our house as I write this reminds me that there are other places we might want to go, and other contexts we want our kids to know.

So in 2024, we plan to go again. The details are still coming together, but plans are in place for a church missions trip to Asia, followed for our family by a little additional exploration. We weren’t sure how many would be interested, but the current team size sits around 18 people — a huge group for our little church, most of whom with little travel experience. Its shaping up to be a pretty cool adventure, and an exciting opportunity to learn more about God’s heart for the whole world.

Of course, others in that world might not share such positive feelings about 2023. A lot has gone wrong on our broken and hurting planet. And while we love this country that lets us call it our second home, we’re very concerned about what 2024’s election will bring. More than ever we need reasonable, effective leadership to navigate global events.

Because of the job I’m in, I also can’t help but reflect on technology, and how its impact is felt throughout our lives. 2023 included some culturally impactful innovations, which I wrote about — and will likely write more about in 2024! In fact, this post was delayed by some changes I had to make to the site as a result of how the Internet is evolving. This little blog has been around for 23 years; I’m grateful to those still reading it in 2024, but I’m increasingly uncomfortable with the progression of this inter-network on which it resides.

But whether online, or not, we are all connected: from Gaza to Ukraine, and Ohio to Taiwan, every one of us is made in the image of a loving God, with gifts and a purpose to explore and share with each other. I hope in 2024 we can find better ways to understand that — as a family, and as a species.

Aero the Cat

Last Friday night I thought I heard a meowing in the garage. I knew our cat was inside, so I looked around but found nothing. I assumed it was just a neighborhood stray (or Tigger’s nemesis: a neighbor’s black cat, that occasionally comes by to taunt him) and went about my day. Later, the same happened to Nicole — she wondered allowed if she was going crazy, because she also couldn’t find anything.

We have security cameras, both inside and outside the garage, and she checked for evidence of another cat — the indoor camera also picked up the sound of meowing, but no visible sign of another cat. We got the kids involved, moving every potential hiding spot in the car, but yielding nothing. The sporadic meowing continued, so we moved the cars out of the garage to search better. The meowing in the garage stopped, but now the outside camera was picking it up. Ben laid down on the ground between two cars and listened quietly until our Saab meowed at him. That was definitely strange, since cars don’t usually meow.

We got flashlights, drove the car up on the oil change ramps, and looked underneath, but could see nothing — despite the continued occasional meow. By this time it was nearly 10:30 at night, and cold. We put the car away, and set out some food — and a camera — then went to bed, hoping the cat wasn’t stuck in there.

When we woke up in the morning, some of the food was gone or moved, and the camera had picked up this…

Now we knew we weren’t crazy — and that the cat wasn’t stuck. My friend, who happens to work on cars, came by with a sturdy jack, some tools, and back-up — his girlfriend, another mechanic, and two dogs to help sniff things out. We didn’t need the dogs, but we did have to remove the back bumper cover. Inside, frantically looking for another hiding place, was the tiniest, filthiest little kitten you’ve ever seen.

It was terrified and bit my friend Allen before his girlfriend could scruff it. Fortunately the bite was not too bad. We wrapped her in a warm blanket (for her protection and our own) and got her inside and into our bathroom — tile floors, and no good places to hide. The girls talked soothingly to it and offered it food, while keeping it warm and trying to help it acclimate to life outside an automobile.

The first 24 hours, it would hiss and skitter around trying to escape — until we picked it up in the blanket, at which point, its reaction could best be described as surrendering. It had no choice but to trust us, it was so alone and afraid. Warm in the blanket, it would sit on our laps, or in a football carry under our arms, getting used to the house. We gave it a bath (which was only partially successful, and required multiple repeats) and it didn’t protest at all. If we put it down, it would immediately try to find a hiding place, but when with us, it was quiet and seemed content, and was eating and drinking, so seemed healthy, save for a limp in a back leg.

Another day or two later, it started to get more curious — exploring the area around the person holding it, but not straying too far from the blanket. The back leg seemed stronger.

Now at the end of the week, it chills by itself out in the open on one of Tigger’s pillows, and plays gently, nibbling on a nearby finger, or tugging on the girls hair. The limp is almost imperceptible, and it seems genuinely happy with life outside the car. Tigger, on the other hand, is royally ticked off about this interloper, and refuses to spend much time inside — hissing if he spots the little one.

I’ve used “it” throughout here, because we’re not sure about gender — it is so tiny, its hard to tell for sure (although we think its a girl.) The earliest we could get in to see a vet is next Monday, so we’re just doing what we can to help it heal. Plus, the kids love cuddling and/or napping with it — and it seems to feel the same way. It fits nicely in the pocket of a hoodie, so just goes where we go around the house.

The girls have been asking about another pet for a couple years now, and I keep reminding them that a pet is a long-term commitment — and that our kids will be grown up and gone before another pet dies. But I didn’t really get any choice in the matter: Aero (named after the car in which it was found) chose us, and Tigger and I are just going to have to live with that choice…

I caught a glimpse of the future… but its not here yet

We bought a second EV last week. This one is a PHEV (Plug-in Hybrid EV) — a 2018 Chevy Volt. Unlike our little run-about, this car will go the distance, thanks to its drive-train-connected ICE (Internal Combustion Engine), and when running in that mode, it still uses the EV battery for efficiency. On its first week with us, I’ve already driven it almost 700 miles, with an average fuel efficiency of around 45 MPG. In town, it does 75 MPG — or no gallons at all, if the trip is short enough to be battery-only (a range of about 55 miles.)

This car is to be a work vehicle — a tax-write off for the business (assuming we can figure out how to file that properly.) We bought it on a Saturday, and on Monday, it went on its first road trip. The day started for me in the city, so I left home fully charged and easily made it there on battery. The meeting location had a row of chargers, so I plugged in and went inside. When the meeting was done, the car was fully charged again, and ready to head to Harrisburg, PA.

I used the battery in town, or on smaller highways, and kept it in “Hold” for the Turnpikes — instructing the car to preserve the battery and use the ICE. That left enough electric juice in reserve to whir quietly to the event hotel about 6 hours later. Despite being 5 years old, and already having 75k miles on it, the Volt performed like a champ. And while its no Tesla, its reasonably well-equipped with modern features. It really felt like I was driving in the future.

Until I got there — then reality set in. The hotel had a single two-port charger for 665 rooms… and only one of the ports worked. Someone had already been parked there for 16 hours, and was nowhere to be found. Another guy with a Tesla was waiting for the spot, and had secured a room where he could see it from his window. He offered to text me when/if he successfully charged, so I could slide in next. I called the service provider, but they said the hotel had opted to take the charger “off network” and service it themselves. The hotel, of course, disclaimed all responsibility, effectively shrugging their shoulders at the growing line of EV-owners with empty batteries. Admittedly, the line only grew to about 6 cars during my stay — but most of them did not have back-up gasoline engines, so they really needed the charge.

A little text-based community of EV-owners was hurriedly created to share the single charger, and by the end of the conference I did manage to get charged up — as did a Ford F-150 Lightning that I handed off to next. I planned my route home to re-charge the battery at a highway rest stop that offered chargers, but those chargers were broken too. A call to that service provider was no more helpful, so I topped up on gas instead.

The round trip totaled 646 miles. I did 140 of them on the battery, and the rest on two full tanks of gas. In dollars that was about $77 for gas, and almost nothing for the electricity. I did pass 4 Tesla Super Charging Stations, so if I’d sprung for a $45,000 EV, I would have been fine running on battery for the whole trip. We paid less than that for both our EVs combined, and while we probably could have pulled off a Tesla purchase, I don’t think that sticker price would be particularly good stewardship at this point in life.

The conference I attended this week had an agenda heavily skewed towards green technology, and the the clean energy revolution. Our hosts had pledged $37 million to converting their headquarters to diverse and cleaner energy sources. The NPR radio talk show I listened to enroute spoke forebodingly about the looming climate crisis. “We have to do something to prevent our planet from melting!” says everyone.

Unfortunately, the “something” we’re willing to do to save the planet doesn’t include providing the average driver any kind of functioning and affordable alternative to exploding fossil fuels down the highway. Maybe we’ll get to a greener future before we flood/cook/melt ourselves out of safe places to live — but it sure seems like we’ve got a long way left to go…

Think Different

I wrote a couple years ago that the move to Apple Silicon (and accompanying lock-down of their hardware ecosystem) was a last straw for me as a Mac user (and long-time fanboy.) I still have some Macs, but haven’t — and will not — moved beyond Intel:

An Intel Mac Mini provides our home web and media server, Nic’s laptop is an Intel MacBook, and my “big iron” workstation is a heavily upgraded Intel Mac Pro 4,1 (with 5,1 firmware). But none of those are daily drivers for me, so since Apple’s big move, I’ve been on the hunt for alternate hardware.

Admittedly, its hard to top Apple’s build quality and industrial design, but the legendary ThinkPad used to provide a real competitor to the PowerBook, and my experiences with that lineup were always positive. Of course, IBM doesn’t make the ThinkPad any more — they sold the brand to Lenovo, but that company has proven a good steward.

I now have 3 ThinkPad devices — all circa 2016-18. Each are nicely designed, with comfortable keyboards, and rugged exteriors. Unlike modern MacBooks, all are eminently repairable — the bottom comes off easily, usually with captive screws, giving ready access to the storage, RAM and in two-out-of-three cases, the battery. My smallest ThinkPad, a X1 Tablet, is a lot like the Microsoft Surface (itself an entirely un-repairable device) and it took a little more delicacy to replace its battery — but at least a dead battery didn’t render the entire machine garbage.

Aside from the highly portable tablet, my work machine is a X1 Yoga, with a 180 degree hinge that lets you use it as a laptop or a tablet, and my personal dev box is a X1 Carbon. The Carbon makes an excellent Linux machine, with 100% of the hardware supported by Lenovo themselves (save for the finger-print reader, which took a little effort, but works fine), and all-day battery life.

The X1 line-up does signify a higher-end positioning — I’m sure the consumer-grade devices are less premium, and of course, I can’t speak to the software preload if you buy new (and really, you shouldn’t — these are 10+ year machines) — but Lenovo’s update software is helpful after a fresh OS install, unobtrusive, and easily removed. Only my oldest X1 is officially out-of-support, the rest are still getting BIOS, firmware and driver updates.

I wanted to buy a Framework tablet, because I love the idea of a company focusing on modularity and serviceability, but for the time being, they’re out of my price range. For less than the price of one new machine, I was able to refurbish 3 older, but high-end ThinkPads for different uses.

While we’re on the topic of eschewing popular hardware, Kobo is worthy of an honorable mention. Having worked on Kindle, and being a user for so long, I have to admit that I was largely unaware that alternatives existed. But as the battery of my beloved Oasis 1 (the two-part Kindle with removable battery cover, code-named Whisky-Soda) began to die, I decided to try an alternative that fed less into Amazon’s push toward world-domination.

Kobo is backed by a Canadian company. Their hardware is perhaps a little less premium than the incumbent, but a used H2O (water-proof) is entirely satisfactory physically, and its software is quite delightful. Open-format ePub books are natively supported, opening up a wide variety of alternate content providers, and its Public Library integration is excellent. From the device you can browse your library, take out, and even renew books.

The accompanying mobile app, so you can sync up and read from your phone, is maybe not as good as Amazon’s, but it does the job. And since I can read ePub natively, there’s many other platforms I can read on as well.

Reading on Kobo isn’t really much more friction than reading on Kindle, but I understand if its not for everyone. Kindle is a great platform — as long as you can rationalize the behavior of its parent company. X1 ThinkPads, however, get my unqualified endorsement as a great portable computing platform for anyone. They’re perhaps a little bland, compared to a flashier Mac, but they’re dignified, easily repaired, and built in a way that promises a long, reliable, and no-nonsense useful life. Next time you’re in the market for a computer, consider buying something you won’t have to throw away when its battery dies…

I’m afraid our furry companion has gone and done something rather rash

We moved here 8 years ago so I could accept a job I’d been recruited for, leading the development of some new ideas inside a staid industrial automation company. Those who’d put me up for it had talked me up (somewhat undeservedly) as an “expert”, so I took the role with a level of authority and autonomy I hadn’t had before. I was expected to do things differently, and for awhile, I could. When my boss and I had an approved plan, they let me hand-pick my team to execute it. It was the most fun I’d had to that point in my career: every single person I worked with was a rock star, and we were building something we were passionate and excited about. Eventually, I ran out of rope, the effort ran out of support, and those who’d recruited me had moved on. But we made some things happen, and we had a blast doing it. Last week, some of the crew got together for a drink…

I made it 4 years — one of the longer stints in my career — before moving on to my current gig. We’re a focused institute inside a major University, and while we benefit from their resources and reputation, we are subject to their processes, which are primarily focused around academia and research. Its not a perfect fit, but overall, it works most of the time. As usual, I’m less of a fit than some others — and while I have a mandate from my immediate leaders that allows me and my team some autonomy, the organization that surrounds us feels some friction.

Having been in this position another 4 years, I knew it was time for a change — but there hasn’t been the feeling of accomplishment or closure yet: there’s still more to do… we just need to find new ways to do it (or, maybe more accurately, I need to.)

So last week, I quit — sort of. I mean, I handed in my two weeks notice, with full intent to vacate my spot. But I’ve been helping some friends with their businesses, and will be joining one of them. Together, we’ve bid on a RFP that requires my kind of contribution, and if all goes well, through that vehicle I’ll be re-joining my previous organization as a contract resource. I’ll be able to contribute to their mission, which is a worthwhile one, but also have some freedom (and some hours in a week) to self-direct my efforts towards complimentary projects and innovations.

There’s some risk, of course. I’ll have to periodically bid on, and compete for, my contract position. We’ll have to handle some of the things an employer usually does — like tax withholding, and health insurance plans. But we’ll also have our own business, that can furnish some deductions, provide diversity of income and experiences, and create a new set of growth challenges to keep things interesting.

This has not been a reckless leap into the unknown. Since we got our green cards we’ve been working toward a new arrangement. Nicole has embarked on a soft relaunch of her career, working part time for the school board, and we’ve both been helping advise and administrate for other organizations on a volunteer basis. My leadership team, too, has bent over backward to help with the transition and ensure our working relationship can continue in new forms. At work, my team has stepped up in new ways to backfill some of my duties. And financially, we’ve been deferring my income for the last few months, storing up funds to buffer any hard times.

I’d like to say I’m 100% confident this is the right move — but I’ve never been 100% confident of any move. I do know that we’ve laid this before the Lord, and tried to remain sensitive to His leading. I also know that I’ve spent most of my life impatient and impetuous — with more than a reasonable share of arrogance — and that my only hope is that God redeems these undesirable qualities and uses them somehow for good.

Its a weird time to be trying something like this. Inflation isn’t under control, markets are in flux, and interest rates are insane. But we’re debt free, save for the mortgage (which is locked in at an amazing rate), the kids have reached an age where they need us a little less, and we live in a place that is relatively safe and stable. We’ve had 20+ years to develop the skills we need to manage and execute a business, and we’re young and healthy enough to recover if things don’t work out. The variables are as good as they’re going to get, and the challenge feels daunting, but achievable — which is my favorite kind of challenge.

The next 8-12 months should be interesting ones. If you’re the praying type, we’d appreciate it if you keep us in mind. We may not know what the future holds, but God does, so as we have many times before, we’re stepping out, and trusting Him to guide our steps.

Prayer Changes Things

Abi and Eli got baptized this past Sunday, August 20, 2023. Our small church isn’t big enough to have this celebration regularly, so when we have a critical mass for a baptism service, its kind of a big deal. For our two girls, it was a really big deal. They’ve each been on a journey, with this dark Covid sidetrack in the middle that added a lot of uncertainty. When the invitation went out to be a part of this year’s baptism service, it took some reconstruction research to put the pieces back together. Fortunately, I have an aunt who had been praying for them all the way through their walk with Jesus, and she was able to dig up some chats that helped us remember.

Eli accepted Jesus as her savior on March 6, 2018 at an Awana meeting at a church we attended in Ohio before our current church home. That church had its faults, but the children’s program wasn’t one of them! Abi asked Jesus into her heart at a combined, multi-church youth meeting in our little town on October 2, 2019. We wouldn’t have these exact dates if it weren’t for the prayerful petitions of Aunt Sylvia, who lifted them up to Jesus and inquired gently about their little lives. (I’ll also have to grudgingly credit Facebook for preserving this chat history.)

This past Sunday, surrounded by our church family, some good friends in the area, and Nana and Papa — who made the trip from Ontario starting at about 4 in the morning — our girls followed the Lord obediently in the waters of baptism. They were lovingly guided by our Pastor, who gave Nic and I the opportunity to participate in the dunking in a blow-up hot tub at an outdoor service on a beautiful Sunday morning.

Pastor Andy pointed to “sign posts” that help us remember God’s faithfulness, and the key points in our walk with him. If they take one thing from their childhood faith experience, we hope that its love: Jesus love for each of us, that he would die on a cross to rescue us from our sin, and his commandment to love Him and love others as the most important things we can do in our lives. We’re so proud of all of our kids for choosing love – for the record, Ben was baptized July of 2021 at Family Camp.

A big thank you to everyone who prayed with us for our kids. Your prayers changed things!