A man of noble character

It is difficult to understate the influence of people of character.  I know that I am influenced by some people in ways I can not articulate.  My interactions with these people change me profoundly without my conscious awareness.  Only when I sit quietly to reflect on one of these relationships does the impact really become clear.  There are people who inspire me to compassion or honesty or humility or faithfulness.  Others inspire diligence or commitment or joy or optimism.  My father-in-law, John Urheim, inspires nobility and courage.  It is really impossible for me to truly communicate the influence John has had on me.  I don’t know that I have met anyone who, upon deciding upon a good course of action, a right course of action, has more single-mindedly responded with determination and courage than my father-in-law John.  Knowing John makes me want to do the right thing by people, and to do it with unwavering commitment.

In the context of our relationship, the defining chapter of John’s character was written when he married Yvonne and became a step-father to Whitney and Carrie.  Less than a year after this happy event, Yvonne contracted cancer and died leaving John broken-hearted and alone with two little girls.  John responded the way that he does -- he decided to do the best for Whitney and Carrie and to do it with all his energy.  He formally adopted them and committed himself to protect and provide for them with the determination and resolve which undoubtedly characterize his person.

Several years later, I had the good fortune of falling in love with John’s little girl, Carrie.  I, of course, had no indication how John would influence me, but over time I came to see how John lived, how he made decisions, and how he committed himself to those he loved.  By the time I came to know John, he had remarried, and I have watched John live respectfully, joyfully and lovingly with Maxine for over twenty years.  As part of John's family, I have watched him be a committed friend and a loving Grandfather.  I have seen him overcome personal challenges with patience and grace.

John has been the center of the Urheim family, a collection of people with no biological connectivity save the full-sib relationship of Carrie and Whit.  It has been so appropriate for us to be strung together by the magnanimity of John’s loving character.  Like John, I have no biological offspring, and like John, my family was expanded through adoption.  I only hope that like John, my parenting will be hallmarked by courage and commitment and the resolve to do what is right.

Grateful for my Father-in-law, John Urheim.

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“Then I thought, ‘I shall die in my nest, and I shall multiply my days as the sand,

My roots spread out to the waters, with dew all night on my branches,

My glory fresh with me, and my bow ever new in my hand.’

Men listened to me and waited and kept silence for my counsel.

After I spoke they did not speak again, and my word dropped upon them.

They waited for me as for the rain, and they opened their mouths as for the spring rain.

I smiled on them when they had no confidence, and the light of my face they did not cast down.”

Job 29:21-24

Missing Maggie

Our first family dog was an English Springer Spaniel, Maggie.  Maggie was with us for about 10 years.  We adopted her in 2000.  Maggie changed me from a non-dog person to a dog person.  I really miss Maggie.  Especially in winter.  Maggie loved to run with me, and she loved to run in winter.  She could handle really cold weather, and she never turned down an opportunity.  I'm out running eight miles a day this month and I could really use the companionship.  I am missing Maggie.

In March 2009, I wrote a small note on observations made while running with Maggie.  I'm posting it here again and remembering my good friend.
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I've been running with my dog, Maggie, for several years now. Not often enough, granted, but enough to begin formulating some basic principles of canine cognition derived from simple behavioral observations. These aren't really "rules", but they seem (to me) beyond hypothesis now, so I will call them "theories" and they can really be simplified to a few basic mathematical relationships.

X = 1 + Y

This is the First Principle of Behavior for Dogs running with non-Dog people. Simply put, Y = the number of plastic bags carried by the human setting out on a run with his/her dog and X = the number of times the canine running companion will decide to need one. This is a very simple relationship and doesn't necessarily require complex thought. It does require astute visual skills on the part of the dog though and a touch of ESP to know exactly how many bags you have on your person. Not to mention some hard to explain control of certain bodily functions.

What becomes quickly evident to the dog is that humans usually soon realize this is going on and simply begin carrying more bags. At which point, the game changes for the dog...

leading to the next relationship

B = A - C

Where A is the distance between trash receptacles, B is the distance to the next trash receptacle and C is the maximum distance a particular human will return to the last trash receptacle. Dogs are able to solve this relationship to maximize B.

Put simply, a dog will empirically determine the longest distance on any given course that it's running companion will need to carry a full bag and will inevitably stop at that precise place to take care of business. This really does require complex thought, memorizing routes and placement of trash receptacles - often over multiple different running courses.

This is actually bordering on "LAW" with my dog, Maggie. She has an unbelievable ability to maximize the carrying distance no matter where I run. Behind those sweet and innocent eyes there is devious calculation occurring with sinister precision.

Don't get me wrong, I love my dog, Maggie -- perhaps even more now that I've figured out the little games she plays and have learned to laugh along with her. Here's to you, Maggie. You've won this chess match and I concede with a smile to the higher mind.

Of Motives and Immortality

Twenty two years ago, a beautiful girl gave me a Christmas gift that would change my life forever.  Perhaps she did not know then how this gift would impact her also.  In late November of 1991, I asked Carrie Urheim to accompany me to a Christmas concert.  Soon afterward we fell in love.  This wonderful young woman gave me a book for Christmas that year, a book that I have read through over and over.  I’ve worn the cover off the paperback copy she gave to me.

I’ve thought often about which books have influenced me most, and the older I get the easier it is for me to answer.  The first six or eight times I read Purity of Heart, I struggled to capture the meaning, to follow the arguments, to understand the logic and the language.  But each time I read it, a new paragraph or two makes sense to me, and the old familiar ones do not lose their sage, searching power.  I now read this little book about once a year, and never without my journal nearby.  I would wish to liken the book to an old friend; and perhaps for the penitent, it most certainly is.  But for the active one, in the bustle of life, the words of S.K. are anything but friendly.  I rather more accurately liken this little book to a spinning grindstone upon which Kierkegaard alternately rotates and presses the thoughts and intents of my heart against the Eternal; simultaneously exposing impure motives and sharpening the axe head of commitment and purpose.  I never read this book without pride and falsehood splintering away with sparks flying.

Time does not here permit me to elaborate on the various encounters I’ve had with these pages.  Perhaps I will one day have opportunity and perhaps not.  Those stories will be written in eternity where I will of course give account as the solitary individual encountering signposts on the journey.  For now though, I will leave the reader with an excerpt from the final paragraph and an invitation to carefully consider the words of James 4:8, the point of origin of Kierkegaard’s discourse – Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.  Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.  

“Father in Heaven! What is a man without Thee!  What is all that he knows, vast accumulation though it be, but a chipped fragment if he does not know Thee!  What is all his striving, could it even encompass the world, but a half-finished work if he does not know Thee:  Thee the One, who art one thing and who art all!  So may Thou give to the intellect, wisdom to comprehend that one thing; to the heart, sincerity to receive this understanding; to the will, purity that wills only one thing…  Oh, Thou that givest both the beginning and the completion, give Thou victory in the day of need so that what neither a man’s burning wish nor his determined resolution may attain to, may be granted unto him in the sorrowing of repentance: to will only one thing.” -- Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing, Kierkegaard

"GOTCHA!!!" - A treasure found in a field

This week we will observe Hudson's "Gotcha" Day, the day we celebrate Hudson joining our family.  The “Gotcha” Day is quite commonly observed in the adoption community.  In our family, it is a fairly simple celebration – we usually just go out to dinner together as a way of remembering and celebrating.  The actual Gotcha day was a really memorable day with a Giving and Receiving ceremony followed by a long van ride through rural Vietnam and capped off with a midnight visit to a nearby hospital with an infant running a 103⁰ temperature.  Unforgettable day, the day Hudson joined our family and we became parents.
 
A few months ago I was reflecting on the day we first learned about Hudson.  The day we committed to adopting him.  Another memorable day filled with spiritual meaning:

Earlier this year I visited the USDA-ARS station at Wooster, Ohio, to meet with a group of plant pathologists.  Upon arrival my colleague from Kenya and I were shown to the plant pathology library which also serves as a small conference room.  The room was filled with journals and text books.  As we sat waiting for the USDA scientists to join us, I was reminded of one of the most meaningful days of my life and an unforgettable event that unfolded at the Plant Pathology library of the University of Minnesota.

It was early June of 1997, June 10^th perhaps.  I shared an office with five other people, and so I used to disappear to the Plant Pathology library to study on days when I really needed to get down to business.  I was studying for finals.  It was afternoon, a bright sunny day.  I was tucked away in a corner of the quiet library when Carrie found me with tears in her eyes.

“We have a referral.  Healthy boy, born May 6^th.  Nguyen Dung Trung.”

There was a picture of a little boy with thick black hair and jet black eyes covered in a small blanket, lying on a woven mat with his tongue protruding just slightly.

We prayed together there in the Plant Path library, thanking God for this little boy and asking for wisdom and grace.  We were about to become parents.  The home-study was finished, the nursery alcove prepared in our one-bedroom apartment.  The next step was to wire the adoption fee to Vietnam.  We were living a fairly modest lifestyle on a nurse’s salary and a graduate student stipend.  The adoption fee amounted to everything we had saved together during the previous four years.  We drove our used car to the bank and wired our life savings to an agency in Ho Chi Minh City.  It was a joyous day, a memorable day, but to say that there was not a little trepidation would not be completely honest.

There are moments in life when the Holy Spirit confirms a decision, when the peace of God fills your heart.  That day in June was one such day.  By the time we reached our apartment, there was only joyful anticipation.  Since that day, I’ve had a new appreciation for two parables of Jesus in the gospels:  the parable of the man finding a treasure in a field and the parable of the merchant finding a pearl of great price:

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up.  Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.

Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it.” 

Matthew 13:44-46

 

The two parables, I believe, reflect the two sides of our relationship with God.   In the first parable, the kingdom of heaven is the treasure that is found, a reference to the joy of discovering the presence of God and how this joy compels us to pursue God with all we have.  In the second parable, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant who is seeking something of value, a reference to the love of God in seeking and redeeming us at a very high cost.  The decision to build our family through adoption was a decision Carrie and I made together from the outset of our marriage, a decision made in response to the love of God in our lives.  We ourselves have been adopted into the family of God, we are loved and treasured as children of God.  For this reason, we consider it is a very high honor to be entrusted with Hudson and My Linh as our children, a joy that is beyond words.

I am grateful that these two parables resonate so keenly with our experience.  I understand more fully the wonder of the presence of God and I value it more completely.  I am awakened to the love of God and to the goodness of a Father who loves and enjoys his children beyond comprehension.  And I am grateful for the 16 years we have had with Hudson, for the person he is and for all that his wonderful character teaches me.

And I’m grateful for quiet, small libraries and for the grace of God breaking in upon our lives in unimaginable and beautiful ways.

20 Mile Time Trial

I’ve been running marathons for several years.  Most of the time I run alone.  Every year I run three or four 20 mile training runs leading up to Twin Cities Marathon.  I have a network of incredible trails in Minneapolis with water fountains every few miles.  I can set out with a couple of Gu packets in the pocket of my shorts and run 20 or 23 miles without any real advance planning or support.

But once or twice each summer, I have the chance to run long in Florence County, Wisconsin.  These are some of my favorite runs of the year.  Of course, there are not water fountains every few miles in Florence County, so I either need to run shorter loops, plant some water bottles and then go retrieve them later, or ask someone to support the run.  Short loops are OK, certainly better than a treadmill, but there is something much more fun about covering distance.  Point-to-point runs are my favorite, but you obviously need help to go point-to-point.  Fortunately for me, both of my parents are incredibly generous with their time and happy to help out when I’m running long from the farm.  Running from my house to the town where I went to high school – 15 miles away.  Dropping me off somewhere out near Goodman so I can run 20 miles home.  Absolutely fantastic.

However, the best Northwoods long runs the past few years have been the 20 mile time trials.  I think this started three or four years ago when I really started training seriously and shaving time off my marathon PR.  My first 20 mile time trial was actually in Minneapolis.  Breaking 2:40 for the first time on a cool evening run on Labor Day weekend.  Since then I’ve circled Labor Day weekend on my calendar for a 20 mile run at race pace.  This is not really a recommended strategy from an injury risk standpoint, but it is a confidence builder four or five weeks before TCM; and, well, it is just a lot of fun. 

Two years ago was the pinnacle of my running career.   I was in the best shape of my life and had logged 1000 miles by Labor Day weekend.  I weighed less than when I graduated high school.  We were up at the farm for the holiday weekend.  My Dad and I planned out the 20 mile time trial down to really fine details.  He would stop every three miles and walk back toward me with water and Gatorade, and I would keep running – simulating the race as closely as we could.  So much fun to plan and carry out these long runs with my Dad.  We had a lot of fun that day, even though he took me over a couple steep hills I wasn’t planning for out in Fence.  I finished that day in 2:34 – the fastest 20 miles I have ever covered and the best training run of my life.

This year I’m nowhere close to that sort of race condition.  I logged around 600 miles by Labor Day, gained a few pounds (or more than a few), and have done very little speed work and no hills.  Anyway, I’d be very happy with a 4:00 hour marathon next weekend.  So the 20 mile time trial was not so much about time this year as it was about enjoying the morning with my Dad.  I still ran hard, trying to gauge where I was at, but I stopped for water and enjoyed the company. 

It was a very foggy morning, perfect for a long run.  I set out at 6:30 heading west on County C to 101 then south toward Armstrong Creek.  The landscape slowly emerged from the mist over the course of the run.  Beautiful country, the place where I grew up, quiet and serene.  The purple asters were blooming in the ditches.  Ravens calling from the forest, sandhill cranes in an open pasture.  I overestimated my ability a bit and went out faster than I should have.  The long grinding hills made me pay for that.  Still the last two miles from West Bass Lake road to the farm I was able to focus and finish under 3:00. 

Probably the last Labor Day 20 miler I’ll be able to run with support from my Dad for the foreseeable future.  Next year I hope to be running Nairobi or Mexico City instead of Twin Cities.  I hope to fit in long runs from the farm when I’m home, but I will miss this mini-tradition on Labor Day weekend. 

Thanks, Dad.  I am very grateful for your love and friendship.

 

A sad and sobering week

This has been a sad week.  A sad and sobering week.

I arrived in Nairobi Sunday morning on the overnight flight from Amsterdam, eighteen hours into the protracted terrorist attack on the Westgate mall.  I am sharing here a few observations and reflections on the week.  It is difficult to write about anything else this morning;  this city and the Kenyan people have been so welcoming to me. 

I left Mexico a week ago Friday.  My flight from JFK to Amsterdam was delayed two hours and I missed the connecting flight to Nairobi.  Delta put me on the Kenya Airways overnight flight – a nine hour layover at Schipol.  I was still finalizing a large report and presentation that I needed to give at the Drought Tolerant Maize for Africa conference.  My sister-in-law, Whitney, texted me about the mall shooting.  The Westgate mall, yes we had been there a month ago.  Watching the nightmare unfolding on CNN - a building I was familiar with, scenes from the parking lot and access streets – places we had recently been and a neighborhood I frequently stay in.  Wondering if my friends and colleagues were safe.  Death toll estimates climbing, multiple terrorists involved in a sophisticated attack. 

Sunday was spent at a hotel downtown, two or three miles away from a hostage crisis and deadly stand-off.  All of my CIMMYT colleagues were safe.  One of my colleagues had been in a cab on the way to Westgate when the attack began.  I spoke with my Mom Sunday night over Skype.  It was good to hear her voice.  A suicide bomber in Pakistan killed over 70 people outside a church in Pakistan.  I wondered if I would have known that if I hadn’t been watching the news so closely.

Our meeting took place Monday as scheduled.  We loaded buses and drove to the ICRAF campus.  About 100 people from more than 13 countries were in attendance.  We observed a moment of silence.  It was good to see my colleagues – some live very close to Westgate.  One of my colleagues looked sideways at me and asked why bad things kept happening while I was en route to Nairobi.  The thought had crossed my mind.  Last year it seemed that tragic events were happening in the States whenever I was in Africa – Hurricane Sandy, Sandy Hook Elementary, Boston Marathon bombing.

Mid-afternoon on Monday we were informed that the ICRAF campus was closing early.  We would need to finish our meeting early and vacate the campus.  It was precautionary, but activity had escalated at the mall.  We returned to the hotel downtown.  I turned on CNN to see what was happening.  A reporter was live in Minneapolis reporting on the recruitment of one or more of the Westgate terrorists from the Somali population in my home city. 

Tuesday the crisis came to an end.  Over 60 people had been killed and six security agents died retaking the mall.  The President declared three days of mourning.  Flags were flown at half-staff.

CIMMYT hosted two facility inauguration events on Wednesday and Thursday in Kiboko and Naivasha.  The Board of Trustees together with Kenya Agriculture department dignitaries were in attendance.  The events of each day began with a moment of silence.  A degree of solemnity pervaded the events each day.

Please remember Kenya in your prayers. 

Improved Maize for African Soils

The first two weeks of July were spent traveling in eastern and southern Africa, participating in an external review and annual meeting for the Improved Maize for African Soils project (IMAS http://www.cimmyt.org/en/projects/improved-maize-for-african-soils/about-imas-project).  The IMAS project is a public-private collaboration between the Agricultural Research Council of South Africa (ARC), the Kenya Agricultural Research Institute (KARI), Pioneer-DuPont, and CIMMYT.  The project is funded by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation and USAID.  The objective of the IMAS project is to improve the productivity of maize grown under nutrient poor conditions commonly encountered by small-holder farmers in Africa.  The IMAS team works to identify, develop, and disseminate maize varieties with improved grain yield under extremely low fertility. 

Nitrogen fertilizer cost is the largest constraint on maize productivity in sub-Saharan Africa.  With the exception of a strong commercial farming sector in South Africa, the majority of maize farmers in the region apply very little nitrogen fertilizer compared with other areas of the world.  This is especially true for small-holder farmers with limited capital to purchase inputs.  Lack of fertilizer production capacity coupled with infrastructural limitations result in six fold higher fertilizer costs in sub-Saharan Africa compared with other geographies.  Nitrogen fertilizer rates in sub-Saharan Africa are more than 10 fold lower than North America.  Use of maize varieties which can most efficiently utilize the limited available soil nitrogen has the potential to improve farming profitability for millions of African farmers.


CIMMYT scientists have been focusing on productivity of maize under drought and low nitrogen conditions since the 1980s.  Dr. Greg Edmeades pioneered maize physiology research on abiotic stress tolerance and conducted a recurrent selection program for grain yield under drought and low nitrogen conditions for over 20 years at CIMMYT research stations in Mexico.  Two populations which were improved during this era have produced a number of key stress tolerant donor lines currently used in African breeding programs.  Dr. Edmeades has since retired from a distinguished career both with CIMMYT and Pioneer, however he continues to make significant contributions to crop breeding for resource-poor farmers in a number of ways.  He is currently serving on the IMAS oversight committee, and continues to be a valuable resource to breeding programs throughout the developing world.

Since inception in 2009, the IMAS project has spear-headed the development of an extensive network of testing sites to evaluate maize yields under nitrogen-depletion.  This task is much more difficult than it sounds.  The impact of soil variability on maize grain yield is exacerbated under nutrient deficiency, and the ability to confidently identify superior performing varieties under low nitrogen conditions is confounded.  In order to select the best varieties under severe nitrogen limitation, increased replication and careful plot management are required.  The establishment of an expansive and growing low nitrogen trial network in eastern and southern Africa involving private and public institutions in several countries is one of the most significant accomplishments of the project to date.

IMAS has made a number of important contributions in just a few years.  Identification of the best existing hybrids and open-pollinated varieties and promotion and dissemination of these products is well underway.  Breeding pipelines to develop new and improved varieties with higher yield under nitrogen limiting conditions have been established and are producing exciting results.  Technical support for both public and private breeding programs in the region has enabled the growth of the testing network and has increased focus on productivity under low fertility conditions throughout the maize seed sector.  It is tremendously exciting to be a part of the IMAS project.  With continued focus and extensive collaboration, the project should have far-reaching impacts well into the future.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/cimmyt/8948693793/

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Faithfulness springs up from the ground,

   and righteousness looks down from the sky.
Yes, the Lord will give what is good,
   and our land will yield its increase.

                                Psalm 85:11-12

A Tree of Life

(Written en route from Mexico City to Minneapolis, June 7)

Today is My Linh’s 16^th birthday.  Somewhat unexpectedly, I am traveling home this evening (my passport is full and I need an extra week in the States to add pages).  I am very excited to see My Linh on her birthday, even if I won’t arrive until 10:00 PM.

Our life with My Linh really pre-dates our knowledge of her, to a conversation I had with a friend during the winter of 1998-1999.  I was riding from Duluth to Minneapolis with my good friend, Brian Hess.  Both of us had recently become fathers and we were talking about life with children.  I remember telling Brian that as thrilled as I was to have a son, I was secretly jealous that he had a daughter.  At the time, Carrie and I had talked about adopting from Vietnam again.  Adopting from Vietnam without designating a gender preference meant that you would in all likelihood be referred a baby boy.  There were boys waiting to be adopted and a waiting line to adopt girls, and I never really could bring myself to check the box indicating gender preference when there were children waiting for homes.  So somehow, I always thought we would have a family of boys. 

I don’t really need to write about fathers and sons, or to say again how incredibly blessed I am to have Hudson as my son.  There is a special bond between fathers and sons – it is often misunderstood and often less than optimal – but it is uniquely special.  Still, there is something mystical in a healthy father-daughter relationship.  I’m sure daughters understand this, but young men are only able to observe this with awe.  For any young man who has fallen in love with a young woman, I think the father-daughter relationship achieves this mythic status.  You see this woman whom you adore, and your longing for her is heightened by the true affection, love and respect she has for her father.  Something deep inside honors this relationship with a purity of admiration and wonder.  You understand the father’s protective role and the way that his love heightens her beauty.  The day of your wedding you see your bride, escorted down the aisle by a man of noble character who will become your father-in-law.  You are humbled again as he gives her away, literally transferring his protective role to you.  You understand with sobriety that you are called now to lay down your life for her, just as her father had made so many sacrifices on her behalf to that point.  You pray and hope that you will be able to serve her as well as he has.

All this to say that on that cold winter night, driving with my friend Brian, I knew that his daughter, Livia, would become a beautiful woman of exceptional character and that Brian would enjoy this special relationship that I could only admire.  

In the spring of 1999, I was finishing graduate school and was searching for my first job as a plant breeder.  At the time, I most wanted to apply for a post-doc position with CIMMYT as a maize breeder, but Carrie and I were recovering from a difficult stretch, and it was clear that for us to leave the country then would have been unwise, if not impossible.  I had an application out for a post-doc at Cornell, and another one out with a small seed company in Harlan, Iowa.  I had to search to find Harlan on the map when I went to interview with Wilson Genetics.  I had been through a phone interview with Cornell, and I was very interested in the post-doc there.  Meanwhile, things progressed with Wilson, and time went by without hearing from Cornell.  I was invited for a second interview.  Carrie and I went to Harlan to explore this option, not really sure about moving to western Iowa. 

We stayed at the 59er Hotel just north of town. The hotel sign had been twisted by straight-line winds.  We drove through the town, looking at houses, wondering if this was the place for us.  On the morning of our second day, I had to make a decision on an offer.  I woke up that morning and read from Proverbs:

“Hope deferred makes the heart grow sick,

But a longing fulfilled is a tree of life."  Proverbs 13:12

 

I stared at the page and wondered what God was telling me.  For 10 years I had been hoping to return to Africa to serve.  Six years of graduate school…  Hope deferred.  My heart sank as I meditated on this verse.  But then God spoke to me again… Longing fulfilled – we would not be able to adopt again on a post-doc salary.  My heart revived.  At that time, with the state of our marriage, I could barely begin to hope that we might adopt again, but this job as an industry corn breeder could provide the means.  Maybe God would open a door of opportunity to adopt again.  And maybe, just maybe, He would give us a daughter.

Seven months later, Carrie gave me an adoption application as a Christmas present.  The following summer I was working at my desk on a sunny afternoon when I received an email forwarded from Carrie.  It was a posting from an adoption list-serve Carrie subscribed to describing a little girl with special medical needs at an orphanage in Ham Tan, Vietnam.  I remember gazing out my office window the rest of the afternoon wondering if this might be, if it could be.  Who was this little girl, and what wouldn’t I give to be her Dad.

We inquired, and waited.  Another family was considering adopting My Linh, but would we be willing to stay on a waiting list.  Of course.  The home study moved forward without a referral and then in late summer, the news that I could hardly believe could be arrived – would we consider adopting My Linh.

There was never a moment’s hesitation for me, but there were several ancillary considerations (see Eternal Unseen Things).  A two inch thick binder of medical records, visits with specialists and surgeons, questions about medical insurance, questions we couldn’t answer but had to entrust to God. Sleepless nights, and hours in prayer, and all the while a growing affection for this wonderful little girl, far away in Vietnam.

For twelve and a half years now, My Linh Yvonne has been our daughter.  Every day with her is a testament to the faithfulness of God in my life.  His promises are true.  She is to me a tree of life.  Fortunately, I do not have to imagine life without My Linh because I am no longer capable of conceptualizing it.  She defines me as much as having green eyes, or being right-handed.  I am convinced now that I am more glad being My Linh’s Dad than being Mike Olsen and the former makes the latter more humane and more loving.  She is kind, courageous, beautiful, bright, thoughtful, diligent and resilient.  She is everything that a father could hope for in a daughter.  I watch her with her friends and I see the calm, stabilizing influence she has, the faithfulness and goodness she represents, and I know she is a gift to them as she is to me.  She is a gift to everyone she interacts with.

A few rows in front of me on the plane just now, a grandfather lifted up his two year old grand-daughter and kissed her on the forehead.  It made me smile.  I used to wonder at the beautiful relationship between father and daughter.  To this day I hardly believe that I am experiencing it.  But I do know that in a few hours, I will walk through the door of our house in Minneapolis, and she will give me a warm embrace that will leave me with a joy incomparable.  Happy Birthday, My Linh.  I love you more than I can express and I will always be grateful to be your Dad.

Rivendell

This past week was spent back in the US, listening, learning and re-connecting.  It is difficult to express how blessed I am by the amazing people God has brought into my life – people on every side and from various backgrounds and perspectives who understand my calling and encourage me in such profound and unimaginable ways.  I had not anticipated the generosity and support of so many.

This, of course, begins with my family.  I’ve written previously about my immediate family, and I will again from time to time.  But the kind support of my extended family was really beyond my expectation.  We shared the decision making process with John and Maxine over the holidays, and I was so encouraged by their support.  Likewise, my parents also gave us their blessing and committed to pray. 



Tim and Emily

Last weekend, we were together with the Olsen family at Perrot State Park near Trempeleau, Wisconsin.  For fifteen years, we have gathered at Perrot on Memorial Day weekend – my parents and the families of their three children.  It is an anticipated tradition with so many wonderful memories tied to these gatherings.  The park was beautiful as always.  The lush green of spring, the swelling river, the crisp morning air, a gentle rain during the night.  My oldest niece, Emily, was engaged to be married at Perrot this year, and we celebrated with her and her fiancé, Tim.  We recognized and honored my parents’ upcoming 50^th wedding anniversary.  Deb and Jeff organized another fantastic race with challenges, and clues, and competitive banter.  A sporting football game with Jeff, Hudson, Nathan, Matthias and neighboring kids from another campsite.  A seven mile run at dawn with Ron and Josh.  A family hike to the top of Brady’s Bluff and a slow descent with Josh and Marni as we stopped to listen to wood thrushes and rose-breasted grosbeaks.  Card games with My Linh.  Saturday morning pancake breakfast.  A long walk with Carrie. 

It was sad breaking down tents on Monday, knowing that we will miss Perrot in the coming years… it felt a little like leaving the Shire.

Tuesday and Wednesday I visited Pioneer in Johnston, Iowa.  My graduate school colleague, Tabare Abadie hosted the visit.  I am fortunate to have very supportive contacts in the seed industry.  We are, at CIMMYT, continually trying to improve our breeding programs and I am very grateful to have the opportunity to learn from the experiences of private sector colleagues who have implemented constructive changes.  Tabare at Pioneer and Walter Trevisan at Monsanto embody this type of collegial support for CIMMYT and what we are trying to achieve.  Both of them are very accomplished professionals with extensive experience managing teams of scientists working on maize improvement internationally.  Both are also very helpful, generous, and constructive.

Thursday and Friday I visited the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation.  I was invited to share some thoughts on technology implementation in maize breeding by Brian Love, a friend and former colleague who is currently a program officer at the Gates Foundation.  The Gates Foundation visit was impressive.  So many talented professionals focused on improving the lives of the impoverished and vulnerable.  It was humbling to meet experienced scientists and economists with a sharp focus on improving the livelihoods of small holder farmers.  I left with a clear understanding of the commitment and support of the people at the Gates Foundation.  They not only invest in what we do, they think critically and strategize about how to help us become more effective.

Friday afternoon, I drove south to Tacoma to visit my college friends Nils and Julie Luckman.  It was so refreshing to see Nils and Julie.  They have such a vibrant relationship and a beautiful family.  There is a wonderful simplicity and practicality about their lives.  They serve and love their family and their community with joy and laughter.  It was an oasis of kindness to visit them again after so many years.  We drove up into the mountains, had dinner together, and walked through the town of Puyallup at dusk.  All of the best qualities of these two dear friends have only intensified with time.

I also stumbled unexpectedly into the hospitality and kindness of Stewart and Marilyn Luckman, Nils’ parents.  Stewart and Marilyn live just around the corner from Nils and Julie, and they opened their home to me and offered me their spare room for the weekend.  I remembered Stewart Luckman from my time at Bethel College as an imposing figure, strong-willed and quite unique, a free-thinking sculptor and art professor, and I had no remembrance of Marilyn.  I had no prior context for the exceedingly warm welcome I received.

As I was describing my vocation and the journey that my family is upon, I met with the most sincere and enthusiastic support from the Luckmans.  The Luckman home sits on a steep hillside, surrounded closely by beautiful spruce trees on three sides.  Stewart and I talked for several hours on the deck outside their kitchen, sunshine filtering through the trees while towhees and kinglets were singing nearby.  Stewart talked about his experiences and perspectives on reconciliation and calling.  Marilyn shared wisdom from her long experience as a school administrator – insights into focusing and motivating teams toward a common goal.  I was so blessed and strengthened by these two saints as I enjoyed the tranquility of their home.  Marilyn gave me a book to help me find points of connection with people of other faiths as I traveled. 

Several years ago, my genetics professor and mentor, Weldon Jones, died unexpectedly at age 51.  I remember reflecting upon Weldon and writing that there is no greater honor or accolade than the affirmation of someone you deeply admire and respect.  Dr. Jones gave me confidence to do things I likely would not have tried.  He inspired me in a simple and profound way.  Meeting the Luckmans this past weekend reminded me again of the power of blessing, how the affirmation of those you admire inspires you to new heights.  It was providential to come into fellowship with Stewart and Marilyn and to reconnect with Nils and Julie at this juncture in life.  The challenges ahead seem less significant than the joy of the path forward.

 “I smiled on them when they had no confidence, and the light of my countenance they did not cast down.”  Job 29:24

Hey, Hudson. I know what we’re going to do today...






Hudson turns 16 tomorrow.  THAT went by fast.  One word comes to mind to describe 16 years of life with Hudson:  FUN. 

“F is for friends who do stuff together, U is for u and me… N is for aNywhere, aNytime at all, under the deep blue sea…” Sponge Bob.

Children bring joy to their parents and to their loved ones.  That is a providential gift.  But Hudson is blessed with an unusual ability to bring laughter and smiles to everyone he meets, and I have had the unbelievable honor of having him in my family every day since 1997. I wish everyone were allocated as many smiles in their lifetime as I’ve had the past 16 years with H.  If you know Hudson, you’ll know that I’m not exaggerating.

Hudson and Carrie at Dominguez Mexican Restaurant

It’s hard to write this, I’m laughing while I sit here thinking about it. 

About to get his waggon fixed...

Hiking with My Linh at Fish Creek Falls near Steamboat

So Hudson, I miss you and wish I could be there on your birthday.  I’d ask you what you would like to do and we’d come up with some sort of plan that would involve the driving range, a few games of pool at Parkway, Mario Kart, Star Trek, hanging out at Chris and Rob’s, a trip to Barnes and Noble, a game of Risk and maybe an episode of Phineas and Ferb… yeah, the mini-golf episode... “You must not be seduced by the coolness!”  - Candace

You’re FABULOUS, Pal, and I’m lucky to be your Dad.  Happy Birthday!

Skype antics



WhatChaDooooin???? -- Shelling popcorn with H.

Tomorrow Is Gonna Be Better

I’m writing from the air just now, somewhere over Greenland.  On my way home for a few days before going to Mexico for a month.  My laptop is almost out of battery life and I am burned out thinking about backcrossing schemes and cost analysis.  A while ago, I was listening to Joshua Radin on the in-flight system singing “Tomorrow is gonna be better”.  The song made me think of Carrie and of how grateful I am for her.  It is impossible to explain how inextricably tied Carrie is to my peace of mind and stability.  Going home to my closest friend and spending time with her -- no pretention, no anxiety over who I am. Being away makes being home so much more healing.  Something on the order of the calm that comes from exhaustion when you lie in the grass at the finish line of a marathon and drink in the cool air and feel the muscles in your legs twitching and tired.  You can feel your heart beat begin to slow.  I hold her hand and the same thing happens.

Ten years ago Carrie and I were at a very low point in our marriage.  2003 was a very hard year.  By the grace of God we emerged from that season stronger.  We moved to Minneapolis that summer.  At the end of the summer, Carrie gave me a card with a letter.  The letter was too personal to share, but the card represented something far beyond, something I needed to know and understand, something I had missed for ten years – not entirely, but mostly.  Something I had unintentionally neglected. 

Lovers Walking -- Pellizza da Volpede (1868-1907)

The picture on the front of the card depicts a couple walking in a sunny garden, talking with one another.  For Carrie, the picture represented two people sharing their dreams and hopes.  It helped me to understand.  I’ve carried the card with me for ten years in my computer case.  It reminds me of the precious gift Carrie is to me, it reminds me to listen, and it enables me to dream.  Not so much to dream about the future as to dream about our future.

 

The intervening years have been so beautiful.  Not without challenge - but always full of hope and grounded in love.  Vivid memories of hiking Hallett’s Peak with her.  Sitting peacefully outside a busy café in Santiago.  Walking in the rain to Lake Nokomis.  Holding hands through her cancer treatment or standing at my beloved Grandfather’s grave.  Watching our two children grow and flourish.  Witnessing the faithfulness of God and experiencing His grace through this exceptional woman, my dear friend and one true Love.  I hope to dream together for as long as God grants us life.

_____________________________________________________________

Let the rain fall,

    Let the rain fall,

Till the day is new and all that’s left

   Is me and you

Tomorrow is Gonna Be Better

                Joshua Radin