Daddyspeak

Drowning...Never

2011-12-13T11:07:00.000-06:00

Things have been kind of crazy lately.

Delma had major surgery and came through it very well. She is doing wonderfully in her recovery. At the same time, Little One somehow either injured her leg...or there is something else going on in there that IS NOT welcome and she has been limping for almost a month. Has another appointment, a referral to an Orthopedic specialist tomorrow. If you know my sinful nature, I tend to be a worrier so...I've conjured up every horrible disease known to man for the pain to be a symptom of. (I do know better than to go on WebMD though: "Don't tell me it could be cancer! I my sick, worrisome mind KNOWs it could be cancer...tell me how unlikely that is, tell me how it just has to be something else."

Another incredible possible blessing in the financial department has turned into a nightmare. Not only is there to be no financial blessing...but it is looking like it could cost us quite a bit (no I did not try a get rich scheme....I was just minding my own business).

My car is broken. Like, put her out of her misery broken.

Delma lost perhaps the most important parent-figure in her life over the weekend and this was certainly taxing on her and her family.

But God is FOR me and my family. He is present in these trials that come to "test" my faith. He answers my questions with real reassurances. And praise Him, He reminds me to be wary of self-pity and fear.

These trials are the trials of life...just bunched a little closer than I like.
He is using, and will use them to train me to be the servant I asked Him to make me to be. (WHY did I pray that!?) He is and will use them to grow Little One out beyond herself (sorry Little One...but we all need that kind of training). And He is bringing about His perfection.

I was grumbling to myself last night during a particularly unpleasant part of the weekend and, after rebuking the self-pity and frustration suddenly thought, clear as a bell, "What blessing is there without suffering?"

What knowledge is gained without trial and difficulty.

What good is the tool that never gets "dinged?"

I'm done living in the tool kit, safely tucked into the pockets, all shiny and polished, never used.

God has every right to use the life He gave me however He chooses to do so. There is no drowning in His arms.

"Yet those who wait for the LORD Will gain new strength; They will mount up with wings like eagles, They will run and not get tired, They will walk and not become weary." Isaiah 40:31

I Don't Love My Wife.

2011-11-03T09:16:00.000-06:00

3:30am...I was awake, and knew I was going to be awake for quite awhile. By now I know very well when I am NOT going to be going back to sleep.

Of course I didn't know why...so in "crazy" Christian style, I asked.

"What do you want to say to me Jesus?"

Silence....and more silence....

"What a stupid question." I punishingly chided myself.

Then, as my mind was wondering, I started thinking about couples I have seen recently and what I would tell them if I thought it would help. In each and every case I would pull the man aside and say,

"The only way you can save your marriage is to love your wife more than you love yourself."

I was shocked at the simplicity of this statement. It was suddenly so very clear....if they could just get that point...if they could put it into practice in even a small way, they would save their marriages.

"Ha!" I thought to myself, "That will be the day when you can say that and expect them to listen, learn, or understand."

Then I must have dozed off, had a disturbing dream, and woke up.

"What do you want to say to me Jesus?"
"The only way you can save your marriage is to love your wife more than you love yourself."
"But my marriage isn't at risk...I didn't know it needed saving."
.....

I read that the bible tells husbands to "love your wife" 32 times in 32 different passages. It only tells wives to do so twice. I like to think that that is because women are so good at loving others, whereas men are not naturally inclined to do so.

I also know that it is because we men are 95% of the time responsible for "checking out" of our marriages. Coasting. Moving on to other things (job, money, children, fun, wine, whatever).

I believe we are called to be men of power, men with voices, men of love.

Why is that so hard?

Because somewhere along the way I forgot to put my pride, my fears, my self-adoration on the cross. It's a wonder my wife and child can even see me.

Rather than the armor of God, I've put on the armor of Richard.

The belt of silence, the breastplate of "Leave me alone." The shoes of solitude, The helm of escape. The sword....

Now where did I put my sword?

Dear God let my daughter be found by someone better than me.

Dear God help me to love my wife the way you love me.

Oh, and that disturbing dream: My daughter was sick. I was sitting on the couch and my wife came and was displeased that I was not helping her. She wanted me to read something she had written and I refused and stormed out of the room. I went in our room and found that she had purchased new clothing for me, and rearranged the room to look very nice (and the bathroom was probably finished too right hon?).

She had come to me asking me to take care of her, when she had already taken care of me.

"Husband's love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her."
Ephesians 5:25

What, Me...a Warrior?!

2011-10-12T11:35:00.001-06:00

In his book Wild at Heart, John Eldridge puts forth the thesis that all men, being created by God, in His image, are motivated by three fundamental needs: a battle to fight, an adventure to live, a beauty to fight for.

Of late, I find myself returning over and over to the warrior heart within me. I used to believe that my battles were fought pretty much in front of the TV while playing PS3 shooters. I never really found too much to awaken my warrior at work, in class...(though I am sure some of my students see me as a villain.)

In counseling, I guess my fight is against depression, divorce, abuse, hopelessness...but, after all, talking never really felt like "fighting."

But that's the illusion isn't it; the lie. In my case, and in the case of many others I'm sure, the lie provides a double wound:

1) "There is no battle for you."
2) "You aren't equipped to fight anyway."

So, I have looked for countless substitutes:

I spent over $2000 and 2 years getting a brown belt in Karate ("Not even a black belt, just a brown. Guess you just aren't good enough.")

I have several guns and a license to carry a concealed handgun ("Weapons which just sit there, impotent without a battle.").

I spend hours each month playing video games in which I get to "fight." And I don't write, and I don't talk, and I don't love...just "fight" battles which mean nothing.

And then I go to work, give a lecture to blank and bored faces...and I feel defeated. ("You suck at this...and you're boring.")

I counsel the couple trying to fend off divorce, and they get divorced. ("FAIL: You let them down. You let their kids down.")

I reflect on how far I've come, and remember what a loser I was... ("Once a loser, always a loser.")

I am proud of my earnings one month, until I remember how I have already mis-handled that money, being buried in debt. ("You are going to ruin your family.")

FAIL "I am a failure." "I am pathetic." "I am a loser." "I am not a warrior, I am a casualty."

The voice! It sounds like my own. It YELLS at me, constantly indicting me with such malicious, hostility I could bend and easily break. "End it. Give up." The whisper is sickening to me. But it is there, in the dark, in the worst of moments. Suddenly; catching me by surprise.

What if the voice were not my own...?

What if that is part of the lie...?

What if the voice is the voice of the enemy, with whom I have agreed for so long that I can't tell his voice from my own?

No one has ever spoken to me like that, my father came close but not overtly. No one would ever say those things to me...unless they wanted to hurt me. Why would I want to continue hurting myself? Why, at 44, do I keep trying to tear myself down? Why, as a husband to a wonderful wife would I allow myself to weaken to the point of being unable to lead the family? Why, as a father of a 10 year old daughter would I ever put myself through those lashings, whippings, psychological beat-downs?

"Curb every passion, and be on the alert. Your great accuser, the Devil, is going about like a roaring lion to see whom he can devour." 1 Peter 5:8 (Weymouth NT)

In other versions the word "accuser" is translated adversary. I certainly experience the "adversary" as an accuser. Not a fair fight at all. He knows my wounds, knows my weaknesses, and seeks to use them against me.

Now, for those who scoff...I have too. I don't want to be one of those people who gets freaked out about Satan, and demons and such. I know I'm not going to be demon possessed and you won't ever find me trying to cast one out.

But, if I believe that the bible is the infallible Word of God. Then the words found therein ALL apply to my existence.

Back to 1 Peter 5:8. One other word there rings true to me. "Devour." Peter, (the guy who denied Christ 3 times before the rooster crowed; 1st person observer to the life and teachings of his Master, Jesus) didn't say, "he's prowling around to scare" or "to give you bad thoughts." He said, he (the Devil/Satan) is prowling around looking for someone to eat...chew up and destroy.

That's pretty intense. So, how do you destroy a man?

Tell him he's weak. Tell him he's not equipped. Tell him to give up. Remind him of his failures. Convince him you don't exist. Convince him he's got plenty of time. Call him a failure.

It's worked so many times down through the ages.

And it could work with me too. Just lull me into hopelessness, and I'll piddle my life away; along with the gifts and talents God purposefully blessed in me.

Ephesians 2:10 “We are his works of art, created for good works in Christ.”

But my Warrior spirit stirs.

Next: Am I equipped?

Abba! Father!

2011-09-16T12:15:00.001-06:00

Now I say, as long as the heir is a child, he does not differ at all from a slave although he is owner of everything, but he is under guardians and managers until the date set by the father. So also we, while we were children, were held in bondage under the elemental things of the world. But when the fullness of the time came, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, so that He might redeem those who were under the Law, that we might receive the adoption as sons. Because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” Therefore you are no longer a slave, but a son; and if a son, then an heir through God.

(Galatians 4:1-7)

I'm 44 years old and it has taken this long for God to move me to the point that I begin to contemplate this concept: That God did not just create me as I might "create" a SeaMonkey (remember those?) God created me IN HIS IMAGE. He created me to be His SON. Not the Christ, but His Son by adoption. And he didn't just give me His name...He gave me the Spirit of His Son so that I might really understand what it means to look up to Heaven and say "Daddy! Father!"

That thought strikes so deep at the wound from my own earthly father that I have spent much of my silent time letting the words wash over me.

"You are my Son...I chose YOU. I love YOU. I saved YOU from slavery. I want you to recieve Sonship. Take the gift of My Spirit into your heart and know that YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES!"

Thanks Dad.

Iron

2011-08-25T09:18:00.001-06:00

I have a friend. Let's call him....Ken.

Ken is going "under the knife" soon and I thought I would share a verse that has been rolling around in my head (which I don't believe is coincidence by the way).

"As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

If I could chose a friend for my own daughter, I would choose someone just like my friend Ken: Someone who loves you as you are; someone who is genuinely interested in what you think; someone who would never speak ill of you to others; someone who makes you better for having known them; a true friend.

I, as a father would choose just that kind of friend for my daughter.

I'm glad God, my Father, choose someone just like that for me.

And, God may not "move the chess pieces," as my friend Ken likes to say, but He is powerful enough to get us to move them where they need to go, when we are listening.

Dreaming of A Response

2011-08-12T09:06:00.001-06:00

I had an interesting dream last night. I was checking my blog, seeing if there were any responses to my previous blog, and there was a new one. It simply said, "What does the bible say about it?"

I know what the bible says about it. It says "forgive." It says "Pray for your enemies." It says "Love your neighbor as yourself." It says, "If someone takes your coat, give them your cloak also."

So....

I'll be working on that.

Some People, and Satan, suck(s)

2011-08-10T19:48:00.001-06:00

You know, I work hard for my money. In fact, in order to try to get out of debt before Obama's economic collapse re-hits Texas, I have been working late at the expense of my family. Ask my precious daughter and my wonderful wife...it's been hard, and very stressful.

So, when I come home from a 2 day break (thank you God that we could get away) and smell gas in the house, I am alarmed. Now, I am not a hands on guy...I am a brain guy. I've replaced my share of water-heaters but...let me just say that we have a great dishwasher...that hasn't worked in a year...we have two bathrooms...one of which is completely gutted. Sorry...I'm not handy. But when you smell gas in your house....you freak out. I did the water and soap looking for bubbles thing. No luck. I called a plumber. Not just any plumber, but the plumber that goes to our church. Good phone call, they know us. See you after lunch. Great.

You know how this goes. You know why I feel like a stupid failure as a man. You could see it coming that the 2 guys who showed up, hired hands, NOT church members by any means, took full advantage...and you know that after $944 the gas leak was still there. (And took me 10 more minutes to locate and turn off.)

$100 is a LOT of money to us...and you, right now. I can't even explain to you what $1000 means. I'm just typing to say to those who think they are entitled to MY VERY hard earned money that they can kiss my A__. So I'm an idiot. So I jumped the gun and freaked about an explosion...no hot water...whatever. If you were willing to spend 1.5 hours changing out the water heater (which you billed as if it was 3 hours) then at least FIND THE LEAK!

I'm really, really, really, really, really .... not surprised.

Satan loves low lifes. He specializes in them. He nurtures them; caresses them; owns them; and uses them to hurt his opposition. Tell you what low lifes: "Greater is He that is in ME than is in the world." Enjoy my money. I'll earn more as long as I can...and I'll pay my taxes, and I'll stay honest...but, I'll miss that $1000. I earned it. I liked it. I thought about it. We needed it.

You stink.

Spiritual Retreat Part IV - the end

2011-07-22T18:13:00.001-06:00

Here it is, the end!

Now, what are the qualities of a Life of Piety. What does it look like, feel like to be plugged into an intimate relationship with our Father?
Our investment in the relationship is met with Blessings we never imagined pouring out into our lives. Christ says “I came that you might have life and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10) That’s what’s “in it for me.”
That abundant life through Life of Piety increases my

Awareness – I become more aware of myself, of Who and Whose I am.
Ephesians 2:10 “We are his workmanship, created for good works in Christ.” My understanding of that word translated “workmanship” means as if a work of art. We are his works of art, His songs, His sculptures created specifically for good works.

I also become more aware of others, who and whose they are.
I begin to see the guy who cuts me off, the rude co-worker not as an idiot, or a fool, but rather, perhaps as a broken person, a wounded person in need of the Good News.

God may have a role for me to play in the sharing of that news with them.
Desire – King David wrote a song: As a deer pants for water, so my soul pants for you Oh God.” Psalm 42:1

The more I experience total relationship with God, the more I want it AND, I want other’s to have it as well.

“A life of piety is powered by the fire of God’s love in our hearts.” (say twice)
Not my will, not my good deeds, not even my own love.

Philipians 2:13 is one of my new favorite versus so full of intrigue:
“It is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purposes.”

“It is God who works in you to will” My desire to get to know God, my very interest in Him in the first place is a gift from Him.
God created us, God loves us, chooses us, woos us, makes us hungry, teaches us, puts us to work, rewards us, We go home to live with Him forever when we’re done. That’s a good deal!

Action – “It is God who works in you to will and to ACT, according to his good purposes. Through relationship with our Father, we are blessed with a desire to ACT. The bible often refers to this as “bearing fruit.” Again from John 15:5 “I am the vine and you are the branches. He that abides in me and I in Him, He will bear much fruit. For apart from me, you can do nothing.”

So what Actions are these that God has planned. When I’m in relationship with Him, He uses our closeness to reveal them to me. When it’s not about me anymore, I can smile, encourage, serve, pray, speak, and more as I am empowered and prompted to action for God.

Though many of my actions may seem small, there is a spiritual economy and, directed by God, the seeds I plant through my actions are spiritually nurtured and grow to change/save lives.

Just as a seek to empower my daughter through the power of my relationship with her to make the right choices in friends. I also seek to teach her how to restrain herself when appropriate.

Inaction – restraint, can often be as important as Action.

Direction – In an age of GPS, we can go our whole lives without ever having to refold a map. In relationship with God, I never have to rely on my own understanding or sense of spiritual direction. As Psalm 119:105 says: “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.” When I’m in communion on a daily basis with the God of the Universe, true north is clear, remember the WWJD bracelet craze? When we know our Father, the answer is almost always clear. The direction for my life is from him, I might turn left or right off the path every now and again, but I always know the way back to the path.

Naturalness – Some of us learn it on the playground…some of us learned it in the home. Either way, as men, we learned there are right ways and wrong ways to look and act. “Just be yourself” is often said, but often ignored.
Praise God that one of the first things He does as we enter into ever deepening relationship with Him is teach us that we are each works of art. Each a priceless treasure that is created to bring glory to Him. Who I am, my nature doesn’t have to be hidden.

I’m sure the inevitable argument with my daughter about makeup will arrive one day. As I think about it, I know that, in part, I will be saddened that she feels the need to put on a mask, in her natural state, she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

God is calling us to be the men He created, not the men society thinks we should be. What does He see when He looks at us: His works of art, His warriors, His sons.

Courage – If it were up to me, I could be afraid of a lot of things. I’m kind of afraid of what might happen if I lose my job. I’m afraid of getting sick. I’m afraid that my wife or children might get hurt, or not turn out right. I’m afraid of public speaking.

Truth be told, fear is one of my biggest vices. But I have a power looking out for me, not just above me, but in me.

1st John 4:4 reminds me: “Greater is He that is IN you than is in the world.”

And I know that, when in relationship with this power, fear does not belong.

2 Tim 1:7 says “He has not given me a spirit of fear but of power, and love, and discipline.”

My true courage comes from living as the man I was created to be, and trusting God to take care of me in the here and now, and in the here-after.
Joy – We live in a society which is desperately seeking “happiness.” We have pills that offer it, and we have an epidemic disease called “depression” which is the total absence of happiness. Almost like we are under attack.

The bible promises many things, the happiness the world is seeking is not one of them. The bible promises something better than fleeting moments of being happy, it promises JOY.

In John 15:11 Jesus tells us “I have told you these things so that you can have the same joy I have, and so that your joy will be the fullest possible joy.”

“I have told you these things so that you can have the SAME JOY I HAVE.” Not just any joy, Christ’s joy that comes in being a child of the King.
Talk about a lopsided relationship, I give God my heart, and He gives me His Kingdom and everything that goes with it.

I know I’ve given you a lot to meditate on. I want to share with you one more example of Life of Piety alive and operating in the world.
As I was growing up, my mother took me to church, but my father was a hostile atheist. He actively worked to tear down my mother’s faith, and my own. When I left home we were estranged. 7 years ago we learned he had Lou Gerigs disease, a neuro-muscular disease which causes the muscles to waste away, paralyzing and ultimately killing it’s victims.

By that time, God had brought me to the place where my role was perfectly clear, restore my relationship with my earthly father, and be Christ for him. We had many talks, and I wish I could say that before his death I saw him accept Christ as his savior. I can say, that the last thing he ever asked me to do, 2 weeks before he died, was to put a link to an internet bible on his computer desktop.

God doesn’t just have a plan for our lives, God has a fulfilling lifelong, personal relationship with Him for us if we will accept it and invest in it.

Life of Piety, a whole life lived, a whole heart given to relationship with God in Christ. It’s already there, waiting for you to accept it.

Spiritual Retreat Part III

2011-07-21T09:02:00.000-06:00

Here is part III of the talk I gave at the retreat I attended recently. Just one more to go after this one.

Ok – great. How do we build this relationship.

For me, first, before anything else, I had to realize that God is already there. He’s my Father, standing in the road, waiting for me to come home to be in relation with him. It was a relief to know that all I had to do was accept…not EARN the relationship.

What I can to is devote the time to ENHANCE the relationship and abide in it with Prayer – Searching the Scriptures – Meditation – Worship – Holy Communion – Spiritual Direction

Prayer – I was used to praying in church on Sunday, maybe at big meals
Think about your own children for a sec. If your own child only talked to you one day a week, they wouldn’t get the benefit of your understanding, your acceptance, your wisdom…and you’d miss THEM!

I want to hear my child’s fears, joys, requests, etc.

1st Thess. 5:17 offers a solution “Pray without ceasing.”
I’ve learned to pray with my eyes open, while I’m talking with someone, driving (and my wife said I should pray more while I’m watching the news). Any time...I always have His ear.

Searching the Scriptures- I have several favorite authors (Max Lucado, Phillip Yancy, John Eldridge) and I would love to meet each one and be their friend. I feel like I know their character from their books.
Likewise the heart and mind of God is woven in the pages of the Bible. It contains God’s thoughts.

Albert Einstein once said “I want to know God’s thoughts, all else is detail.”

In His word I find His thoughts about Himself, and I find myself as He reveals my purpose, my value.

Meditation – This isn’t the legs crossed burning incense saying Ommmmmm kind of meditation. This can take several forms:

Sometimes I’ll find a scripture that I repeat over and over to myself throughout the day, or paste it to my mirror, on my phone so it can penetrate my mind.

Other times it might be spending quite time, with my head cleared of others concerns listening for the prompting of the Holy Spirit, that “still small voice of God”

I’ve heard more than one influential pastor say that their prayer life involves their prayer to God, and then their silence, listening. I’ve found more often than not, when I do listen, a scripture will come to mind which applies to predicament or concern at the time. Let me tell you, for a guy who’s scoffed at a lot of people for saying that God “talked” to them I’ve had to recognize that God does “communicate” with His children in many and various ways, if we are quite and discerning enough to listen.

Worship – Whether I’m prostrate on the ground praying, kneeling, singing songs, clapping, raising my arms, attending church, tithing, I’m engaged in worship.

There are countless ways to express our Thanksgiving and love for God. In part, through worship I am reminded of my place in the spiritual hierarchy, GOD is on the throne…worshiping Him means I acknowledge Him there.

Also in part, worship to me is like the game you may have played with your child. You say I love you, and they say I love you more, and you say no I love YOU more. When we worship God, telling Him we love Him, Psalm 22:3 “God inhabits the praise of his people.” says He’s not just listening and receiving high on His throne, He’s there, saying I love you more. And we say we love YOU more, and He trumps with “I loved you FIRST.”

Holy Communion – We humans’ are designed to learn in many ways: We learn by reading, by watching, by hearing, and by DOING.

I’ve heard the crucifixion story many times, I’ve seen it in movies like Passion of Christ, But, when I bite into the bread, chew, and swallow, I feel his body broken for me.

When I drink the wine, I feel his blood spilled for me.

I share that humble drama with my brother’s and sister’s in Christ “In remembrance of Him” (Luke22:19) and feel restored in purity (relationship).
Spiritual Direction – If my AC breaks this summer, I’m going to call a trained, knowledgeable professional. When I’m lost in an unfamiliar city, I check a map. When I’m unsure of a spiritual issue, or unsure of life’s path, I can seek the direction and counsel of experts. This means spending time with mature Christians. I may annoy him but I try to visit with my pastor in his office, one on one, at least once every two months. Reading books by mature Christian authors is another source of spiritual direction (C.S. Lewis, Max Luccado, Phillip Yancy).

God gave some the gift of teaching and encouraging and we can utilize those people and take advantage of their insights and encouragements. Of course this can also include other Christian people…God doesn’t just use “experts,” he’ll use anyone available to share His truths.

Part IV, the end, tomorrow...

Spiritual Retreat Part II

2011-07-20T08:00:00.002-06:00

Here is part two of "The Talk"

Attention – Time – Honesty – Deep Commitment – Sharing

Attention - Any married man knows that our wives crave (demand) our attention. If we fail to let them know we value them by paying attention to them, they hear “I don’t love you.”

The more attention I pay to God, the more the relationship flourishes, the more I learn, because the more He can reveal.

Time – My wife shared a quote she heard the other day “Love = Time” (probably a hint)

Kind of turns the old idea about quality over quantity on its head.
The average man in America spends 15 min./day with his children, 20 min/day with his spouse and ? min/sec a day with his God.

Any wonder our children have no direction, we have a 53% divorce rate, and our churches are in decline?

My best relationships are maintained and nurtured with TIME and I’ll mention time doing what in a second.

Honesty – Of course God knows the truth so why do we need to tell Him? True honest for me makes me vulnerable. I admit my fears, anger, and weaknesses before Him and His knowledge of me becomes real to me.

If I had prayed “Thy will be done” in my Mom’s death but never admitted to Him that I was pretty ticked off that He didn’t heal her, I would have Reverence for God, but not Relationship with my Father.

My daughter has full permission to be angry with me, and to tell me about it. Once when I wrongly accused her of not being honest with me she broke into huge tears and yelled, “You’re such a bad Daddy!” Far from hurting our relationship, that opened us up for reconciliation, and she saw my love for her could handle it.

In His relationship with us, can God want any less? (He deserves our reverence and craves relationship)

Deep Commitment – Exodus 20:5 says in part “…for I the LORD your God am a jealous God.” His first commandment on the stone tablets was “Thou shalt have no other God before me.” That means anything I worship other than him, money, TV, friends, work. Just as I expect my wife to keep her wedding vows to me and be committed to maintaining and building our relationship, God seeks for that same type of deep commitment in His and my relationship.

Sharing – Two heads are better than one. When my wife and I share in our bearing of each other’s burdens we have greater strength to face them.

Listen to this awesome source of strength Jesus promised us as we remain in relationship with him found in John 15: 4&5

“Abide in me and I in you. As the vine branch can not bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, so neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine and you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit; for apart from Me you can do nothing.”

In this relationship with God, we share our HEARTS with HIM. He gets our burdens, we bear the fruit. And God is glorified.

Part III tomorrow...

Spiritual Retreat Part I

2011-07-19T08:19:00.004-06:00

Ok, I've been "gone" awhile. Summer break is supposed to be a "break" but it hasn't really panned out that way. But, I have been writing, just not in my blog. I spent oh, about 20 hours writing and practicing this "talk" for a spiritual retreat with 40+ men from which I just returned. Although I was given an outline, we were to make the talk "our own" and I did. I thought that since most of it is "mine" that it would not be such a cop out to share it here. It kind of encapsulates much of what I believe about just who a man is, in Christ.

And since this is a blog for my little one.....I guess I'm going to have to contemplate how many, if any, changes I would make to make it apply to women.

The great thing is, the talk was 25 min. long so, I get to post it over several blogs!

So without further pause (don't know how to spell adueu): PART I

Life of Piety (PART I)

I had just celebrated my 30th Birthday. Having been raised a Christian by my mother, that was the year I had decided I would really begin to serve the Lord. Just like Jesus had begun his ministry at the age of 30, I would begin my “real” service, form a “real relationship with Him.

Things were pretty good in my life at that time, I celebrated my 1st wedding anniversary, I had a 10 year old step-son, I was “happy.” Then one night I got one of those phone calls. Many of you have had one like it. One of those phone calls which divides your life into, life before and life since.

It was my grandmother who, with worry in her voice was calling to ask me to “call your mother…something’s wrong.”

“Something’s wrong” what could be wrong.

It only took a minute of talking and listening to my mother for my heart to sink to my feet. Her disjointed-nonsense speech made me imagine for a second that my Mother, who had never had a drink in her life had started with a whole bottle of Jack Daniels.

After a midnight race to Dallas I got her to the emergency room where she was immediately admitted to the hospital. Less than 24 hours after that call from my Grandmother, I learned that Mom had brain cancer.

Now, apparently there is brain cancer and “nasty” brain cancer. I learned this from a Neuro-surgeon after he evaluated Mom’s biopsy. “These are the nastiest tumors there are.” he shared: Aggressive, fast growing, devastating.

Two weeks after that phone call, my Mother was dead.

Something was wrong. That’s not how it was supposed to be. She was a good person, and, no offence to Billy Joel, good people don’t die young. My infant faith was shaken and I realized that I didn’t know God at all.

My name is Richard Hickam, and the title of this talk is Life of Piety.
What I had mistaken for a relationship with God was nothing more than a Sunday Morning church, meal time prayer acquaintance. He was welcome when He fit into my life…or when I had a problem. Other than that, he did not have my heart.
That shallow, surface level acquaintance couldn’t bear the weight of loss. Though I was shaken, My God was not. He was working in me powerfully wooing me, teaching me about the relationship with Him that I was meant for, that would pull me through life’s tragedies.

When I was a teen, I had a favorite Christian singer named Keith Green, one of my favorites of his had the first line:

“I’ll make my life a prayer to you.”

I thought that was a beautiful, intriguing sentiment, but totally impractical.
I’ve learned though that that is exactly what we are invited, called to do.
A life of piety is a whole life lived in deliberate, open communion and relationship with God. It means God is number 1 and all else is off the throne of our lives.
A life of piety, in which I give my whole heart to God is the first leg of a three legged stool upon which a Life of Grace is maintained. Not in and of itself enough to sustain that life, but note, it is the First leg. The leg we start with. An intimate, real relationship with my heavenly parent.

In college one of the most popular guys lived on the same floor in my dorm. He was friends with anyone and everyone. A servant to others before I understood what a servant was. Inside his room, above his door were two words.

I’m Third

He’d tell anyone who asked what that meant: “Father God first, other’s second, I’m third.”

Putting God first, maintaining his relationship with Him brought all his other relationships into focus.

Through parenting my own child, God has revealed so much about His longing for relationship with us.

My child is not designed to go it alone. She’s not equipped unless I and her mother equip her for life. She is designed for an intimate connection – relationship with her parents. It shapes her character, it shapes her relationships with others, and with herself.

All over the Bible it refers to us as children of God. Galations 4:5 says:
“God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.” Hear that – You who are redeemed are son’s of God by adoption.

As sons, we are designed, were created for an intimate father-son relationship with God, mirroring Christ’s relationship with His own father. Out of Christ’s intimacy with his Father flowed everything that He was, everything that he knew and said:

John 7:16 “The things I teach are not my own, but they come from Him who sent me.”

As in any relationship though, GIGO, garbage in, garbage out. The relationship is there, my acceptance and maintenance of it requires that I give it my best.

I want to share the characteristics of a life in piety with you. How do we nurture and grow this relationship? As you can imagine they mirror characteristics of our closest, most successful meaningful relationships on earth.

(Part II tomorrow)

Getting Her Hair Wet on Sunday

2011-04-04T15:15:00.010-06:00

Just got back from "the meeting with the Pastor."

I guess there are many reasons for those meetings...I've met with him twice since he came to our church a couple of years ago. This one involved my wife, myself...and yes, little one. She's decided that she is ready to be baptized. She has already "invited Jesus into her heart" about two years ago so, I already know I'm seeing her in Heaven.

I wondered when she would stoke up the courage to go ahead and get baptized, or dunked in the water in front of the church. For some kids...it seems they can't wait to get up there in front of people. For her...she's had some significant anxiety. Part of it is the "getting up in front of people" but that can't be everything given her ability to stand on the stage by herself and sing a song.

I think it came out one evening when she was talking to me about it. She brought it up...I never did. I wanted it to be ALL her decision. As the talk wound along, she started to ask more questions; specifically:

"What if God doesn't really exist?"

"What if someone just wrote the bible to tell people there was a God, but they were just trying to make people feel good?"

"What if they made up Jesus?"

"What's my purpose?" (not kidding)

Whoa kiddo. I haven't quite figured out those answers for myself. Let's go back to you asking if you can have a kitty.

I wish I could say I cleared it all up for her. As I recall, I said something like: "Daddy had...and HAS those same questions sometimes. I've decided to have faith that God and Jesus exist. And, you're already accomplishing your purpose right now...to be Daddy's girl. You'll find more purposes later."

Then she was off that track and wanted a drink of water.

The whole baptism thing...It's a big moment...a spiritual marker.

I was older (13) when I got dunked. I remember thinking that at that moment, I was totally pure for the first time ever. If that was true, I reasoned...then I better not ever sin again or...what a waste of a "washing." (Of course right after I came up out of the water I tried to see if I could think of anything bad...just to see if I was really "clean.") Lo and behold...I could still sin. Da...I mean darn. I didn't really understand the concept of it being a SYMBOL not a salvation moment.

Since it is such a big moment for her I'll try to make that day a really big one...

thinking of going all the way to Lubbock to eat at Joe's Crab Shack (her favorite place).

I want her to remember the day she asked Christ into her heart...

and then the day she was "buried with Christ in baptism, and raised to a new life in Him."

You'll still sin Little One...and I'll still notice them, and fret over them. But the coolest of cool things is:

He won't.

(Oh, and yes, now you can eat the bread when they pass the plate for the Lord's Supper.)

String

2010-12-09T09:00:00.003-06:00

My mother used to kind heartedly chastise me about not writing more often (way before the days of email). We always agreed that I would...but I used to make it such a BIG deal...had to write a book or I didn't feel it was worth anything.

That's part of my problem with blogging...have to write a book or it's not worth anything.

Not true...my Grandma wrote to me in college every week: one page. Just to say she loved me...(and to send me money).

One page. I have great ideas...Really great...I promise...but for now, just to prove I'm still here:

I opened my coat pocket just now to pull out a tissue and saw my piece of gold string. Well, it's not really my gold string...I have it there for Dora.

What does she need with gold string? Well, she might be bored one day and I could pull it out and relieve her boredom by showing her the string.

That's why it was put there 6 years ago. She was 4.

Every year around this time (when it gets cold) I pull out my coat and, there it is. Never been used for its magic purpose. I should probably throw it away.

However, 30 minutes ago, when I saw it again, I thought of her...and remembered me.

Most self-respecting boys of 5 and older know that you can't leave the house without some string, a rubber band or two, a rock and a toy car. My pockets were always full when I left the house. I remember thinking that the string would be useful if I got lost, or stumbled into an adventure which required string.

And here I am. I finally found my adventure which might require string...her name is Dora.

I think I'll just hang on to it.

Evidence of The Gift

2010-11-10T11:40:00.006-06:00

Sorry I have been away loyal readers. Several things have happened which have pulled my attention away from blogging. For posterity sake, a quick sample:

We who practice here in Big Spring moved our offices. We moved into offices which are far superior, but it has taken a full two weeks to feel like I have a handle on everything that was moved.

Along those lines:

I fell backwards into an awesome office space (that picture is not it but): huge, private bathroom, two walk-in closets, a main office and an outer office. This was made much sweeter as I have been "officing" from home for the college as the building housing me is being ripped apart for a year or so. Either way...I feel like Patrick Stewart when he first started filming STTNG. He once said in an interview that he thought it was too good to be true, that he would be replaced any day, "I didn't unpack for weeks."

So, that's "all good."

But then I got sick. As I type this I can't speak above a whisper. I don't feel as bad as I did...but, well, I TALK for a living!

Yesterday morning, little one asked why I have to go to work when I am sick. We talked about it and she was excited to know that, when her college prof. is sick, she will get to get out of class. I also let her know that if I was REALLY sick, I would stay home.

So last night I'm sitting on the couch (after eating the excellent food my wife cooked...big deal, she doesn't like cooking) watching the news. Little one is off doing something somewhere and then runs in with a sign which says "This Way -->" I follow and...well...I was blessed. Her favorite stuffed animals were holding signs which said "Get Well!" She had two back rubbing tools available for my choosing and a stack of children's books to read to me.

So for the next 20 minutes she read out loud while rolling a wooden wheeled device up and down my back.

Yup. Sometimes things just go really, really well. I am thankful for those moments of joy and know they have and will make up for other moments of crud.

I wish you all the same: many moments of joy. The stories I read on your blogs are inspiring and humbling.

THE Gift

2010-10-23T09:53:00.015-06:00

My wife always says that I think too much. That if I would just accept things at face value, I wouldn't have these long periods of time when I am agnostic. I know everyone experiences times of doubt and skepticism...I would just like to have them less often. And when I have them, I would love to find the evidence lean in favor of my belief in God.

But much of the time, I look and see more to dissuade me from my faith than to validate it.

Like...why do I have to keep praying for faith...and then feel that I have it, only to lose it again. How about just giving me a lifetime measure of faith which is always there...always secure? Going back and forth from "Yeah, I love God!" to feeling Freud may have been right, that I am just another neurotic soul who has bought into a mass delusion. Am I so afraid, so discontent with my life that I have to delude myself that there will be an afterlife where I get to do all the things that I don't get to do here on earth?

{Example: After hearing of a friend's lavish vacation, made possible by his impressive six figure salary I thought: "Heaven better be pretty impressive because down here, I'm missing out on some great stuff."}

So then, of course, I remember that my 5 figure salary is a king's ransom to 85% of the rest of the inhabitants of this earth. Boy, I bet they REALLY look forward to heaven. But wait, a huge percentage of them don't believe in Christ and thus...for all their suffering here, they are going to hell.Christian's can be really sick and self-serving. In fact, most Christians I know are just as sick and self-serving as non-Christan's...but just convinced that they are not.

The problem is, my faith is in something that doesn't really explain God.

A most unfortunate thing has happened to the Christian faith. Christianity has become just a way to get through the day, to feel better about being bad, and to reassure us at the end that we haven't really lost our loved ones...we'll see them again. It's comforting to imagine that someone really is in control of all of this mess, that we will be rewarded as long as we believe the right things.

So. The faithful have come to, at the deepest core belief level, expect Christianity to serve us. When it doesn't (or doesn't seem too), we blame it for our problems. "What can you do for me God?"

I have my faith on backwards.

We weren't created to be served...we were created to serve. Whether we like it or understand it or accept it, God created us to glorify Himself. We are the sculptures, He is the artist.

The sculpture doesn't get to ask for things from the sculptor. It just stands there and looks pretty. People look at it and say "Oh my! That is so incredibly beautiful and amazing...that sculptor is incredible! What talent!"

Of course the sculptor takes VERY good care of his works of art...makes sure they have what they need. But it is the sculptor who decides what each work of art needs. The sculpture is just a stupid piece of rock...it can't possibly understand what it needs. If it could come to life and ask the artist, why am I here? The answer would always be: "Because I made you."

"Yeah...but what is my purpose?"

"To reflect my skill. To glorify me."

"That's it?"

"Well, I guess I could hang clothes on you..."

Being a Christian means that the bottom line is, I must accept that my very existence is a gift from the Creator. As such, I'm just here to look pretty. I'm here to serve. I am a mirror to reflect HIS glory, HIS wisdom, HIS power.

I am here to proclaim that GOD IS.

The fact that something went wrong in the museum and a few of the sculptures are lost means that my purpose is also to help find them. To restore them for the ARTIST'S glory.

That is why Christian's thank God for the rain, the sun, their jobs, their spouses, and especially their children. For an artist to provide His work of art with JOY...now THAT's an impressive piece of workmanship.

"For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." Ephesians 2:10

Thank you God.

Some Really Good News

2010-10-11T17:28:00.003-06:00

So, we go to our mandatory meeting with little one's fourth grade teacher. Right in the middle of my day...not really looking forward to it because I have nothing to say...no big problems. She doesn't really LIKE school...but she excels at it.

Beyond her Mommy's and my wildest dreams, little one is a natural in school. She makes straight A's with ease. She earns frequent honors for reading, singing, acting, drawing, etc. You know, the things I wish I had been for my parents, she is for me (not fair really...for my parents).

So we get in there, and the teacher who seemed so gruff and distant to little one at the beginning of the year started gushing.

Now, I've blown my share of smoke in my day. You know, gotta paint kids in the best light for parents. But this teacher knew we already knew our daughter. She gave us real feedback about her strengths beyond her natural intellectual gifts.

I learned that Dora is a nurturer...helping her friends when they fall behind. I learned that she is practical, ready with plenty of questions. I learned that she is a little "less mature" than her peers. (Thank God...literally. She'll have plenty of time to be "mature" when she gets older.)

Above all, I learned that, though I know I have a great kid...that other people think so too.

I'd like to take credit (and secretly, let's face it, I do). But what I know is that Dora's mother and I have been blessed with a beautiful, precious, fragile, wonderful gift when what we really "deserved" was nothing.

Thanks God.

It's All About Me!

2010-10-04T14:36:00.003-06:00

You'd be surprised how many good pictures come up when you google "selfish."

My last blog led me to contemplate (again) my ongoing malady of selfishness. That led me to a realization that maybe I could use this blog as a way to explore means of becoming less selfish. Then I realized that might mean I would have to change something about my life and thought better of it.

I don't want to change.

Edit that...I want to change, but it usually includes ways I can spend more time or money on the things that I want to do.

"It is not because the truth is too difficult to see that we make mistakes...we make mistakes because the easiest and most comfortable course for us is to seek insight where it accords with our emotions -- especially selfish ones." Alexander Solzhenitsyn (author) (Who knew Russians were so smart (no offence to any of my Russian readers.))

I guess that sort of suggests that, not only am I selfish, but my reason for contemplating my own selfishness is actually selfish as well.

Yeah. I would feel better about myself if I wasn't so selfish. Then I could look in the mirror and say, "You son-of-a-gun! Look at you all unselfish and giving. You are one good....great guy!"

“Selfishness must be discovered and understood before it can be removed. It is powerless to remove itself, neither will it pass away of itself. Darkness ceases only when light is introduced; so ignorance can only be dispersed by Knowledge; selfishness by Love." James Allan (statesman)

Ah, but it is love which creates selfishness in the first place. I'm full of it (love, that is). It's just mostly focused on me. (Besides, I don't even like people. They get in the way of my "me" time.)

Perhaps I should just drop this idea of becoming less selfish. I took an online quiz that said I was only 46% selfish.

(Look at me, all 54% unselfish and giving and stuff!)

Today

2010-09-29T14:27:00.003-06:00

Today I will think on good things.

Today I won't trouble myself with angry thoughts

or regrets

or fears

or what ifs.

Today I will live as if this day is important...and not a burden.

I'll be optimistic today.

I'll be honest with myself about myself, and others.

I'll do the best that I can do today.

Today I'll be worthy of the AWE with which my child views me.

Today I'll work to recover the AWE within myself.

Today I will prepare myself for tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I'll forget about me...and love someone else.

4th Grade Blues...

2010-09-08T19:37:00.004-06:00

The school season for our family is off to an interesting start this year. Little one is now in 4th grade but is not so sure she is happy about that. In fact, she is pretty sure she hates school and almost everything about it, from getting up early in the morning to P.E.

Of course I would feel better about sending her if she bounced out of bed in the morning, anxious to get on the road. I have to realize that I myself do not bounce out of bed in the morning anxious to get to work…never have been one of those people. I’m not really sure I know of a job which would get me to bounce out of bed ready to go…maybe if I was on the ski patrol at a ski resort. (I love to snow ski!)

So, I have to admit that, probably my daughter’s vocal protesting is, in part, a direct result of my own. Hey, what they see us do they imagine they have implicit permission to do themselves.
I know there are other factors at play. I know her 4th grade teacher is in it for the students to learn and really doesn’t seem to care if they like her or not. I would be a different kind of teacher, overly concerned that every student liked me. But it is foolish to think that we are all motivated in that direction. Some are in this for power, some for accomplishment, some for a paycheck, some for love.

I think it’s good that Little One has finally met a teacher who just wants her to be a student. It’s ok for her not to immediately have an adult wrapped around her little finger. It will build character.

Of course we all know that this teacher would not have been my first choice. I’m afraid, given the choice between a teacher who is there to teach and one who makes it her business to “love” each of the kids in her class…I would have opted for the latter. Good thing we didn’t request teachers this year. We left it up to prayer…or to the person in the office who randomly assigned students to the class.

Prayer still covers it though. God knows what class Little One is in. And He knows her needs for love. And He is ultimately better at providing that for her than any teacher, or ever her Daddy will ever be.

So, until Little One is cursed at, punished unfairly, or bullied, Daddy will just sit back, watching her suffer, listening to her “I hate school” blues, feeling my heart be sucked out of my chest as she makes the slow “death march” from my car to the school entrance every morning, reminding myself that...what doesn't kill her, builds her character.

Character building sucks.

Fumbling In The Dark

2010-08-09T09:01:00.006-06:00

Heard a quote about fumbling in the dark and of course I "saw a cross" and my mind went a riffing...

You know, it's bad enough that without a source of light, we all tend to fumble around bumping into hard circumstances and trying to figure our way out (or through) by ourselves. Life is full of stubbed toes, bruised egos, and wrong turn after wrong turn.

It's worse when we make the well meaning mistake of hooking up with someone who we think knows their way around in the dark...or at least keeps us from feeling so isolated only to discover that their sense of direction is much worse than ours.

Have you noticed that a disproportionate number of the "clowns" who believe they know where they are going and what they are doing are also ridiculously over-confident and persuasive. Yeah...probably has to do with a woeful lack of intelligence combined with a desperate need to deny any realization of their incompetence.

Pardon me for being angry with the turds again...It's just that whether they know it or not, they are "the bad guys" (only 14 more days until LOST season 6 comes out on DVD!!). Enemy agents who make life more difficult by leading others just as astray as they are.

I know I've been a bad guy before....a REALLY bad guy...

So I have hope for them...but part of being a bad guy is that YOU can't undo the damage that you helped do...and sometimes that damage is nearly

or totally

fatal.

It's None Of My Business...

2010-08-05T09:39:00.004-06:00

Yeah...there's always a BUT after that statement (and there's usually a BUTT saying it...but that's another post.)

I've been reading some blogs today. In one, a fabulous question was posed to a group of people from which I am grateful to be excluded. However, the question is right on track with what I have been trying to grasp hold of over the past few years.

Not that it is a revolutionary concept. I'm sure I heard it many, many times while growing up. It's just that the war waged by the enemy involves a lot of disinformation...taking a little truth and mixing it with a lot of lie.

By the way, the question posed to this select group of front line warriors was this (paraphrased): If you could ask any one question about the circumstances of your child's life, what would it be. The guarantee of a 100% accurate and honest answer was included.

My question would have to be, "Why am I so fabulously blessed with this child with this particular soul?" Obviously, that disqualifies me from the exercise.

BUT

I do have a question about an event in my life.

Without some quick backdrop though, my question would sound ludicrous and woefully ignorant of the battle.

HOWEVER

I had a great mom. She died when I was 30. Before I became a teacher (she would have loved that), before her own mother died, before we had made the full peace that adult children and their parents must make, before my career really blossomed, before I had a child. Of course that last one sucks the most. Not only did my mother never get the joy of seeing her grand-daughter, but my child has never, and will never get the joy of being that special to someone. To date, she would be the only grandchild my mother has. If my mother was going to be ANYTHING like her own (my grandma)...well, the main reason I am who I am is because of my Grandma.

SO.

What would I ask?

It would not be "Why did God kill my mother."

God didn't kill my mother. A very aggressive brain tumor killed my mother. Over the course of my life I, and many others have been the victim of bad teaching on a verse which I believe has been unfortunately mangled in it's meaning.

1 Corinthians 10:13 says: No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man; and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, so that you will be able to endure it.

Where does the temptation come from? God? No. Temptation is from the enemy. He is both tempting and testing use, but more, is seeking to destroy us. So, 1) temptations are common to all men. Some are tempted by lust, some by drugs, some by workaholism, some by ... you get the picture.
2) God is faithful and will not allow us to be tempted/tested beyond what we can handle. Not that we can handle the crush of the temptation...but that he will "provide a way of escape also, so that you will be able to endure it."

To believe that God is the one tempting me...giving me trials so that I will get tougher is like me telling my 9 year old to go get in the car and drive herself to school, after loosening the bolts on the tires so that she will learn not to try to drive the car until she is 16 years old.

"I'm going to give Richard's mom a brain tumor so that he can be a better Christian."
"I'm going to take the life of this small child so the parents will appreciate what they have."

If that is God...then I would reject him. (Which makes the adulteration of that verse so clever. Misunderstanding it says that GOD wants, even needs bad things to happen to us so that His will is accomplished.)

"Where did the brain tumor come from?"

I believe I know that answer...it came from an infested, dangerous, toxic, disease ridden, scary, deadly, invaded world.

"Why didn't God intervene?"

I have an answer to that as well. I think, that in the very, very grand scheme of things...He didn't need to. For His will to be accomplished on this earth, and in His heaven, my mother did not need to be here anymore.

Her death was "allowed" because she had served her purpose all ready. He didn't want her to die (or need her to die)...

Now, I am not saying that she was never going to do anything else towards God's will. If she had not gotten the brain tumor and died, she would have done many wonderful things, and had a wonderful impact on my daughters, as well as many other lives.

God's will though is not thwarted by her death. That is what is encouraging. Despite all the evil perpetuated in the world, all the disease, the death, the abuse, the loss, the fear, the crap in this world brought about ultimately by the enemy's lies...God WILL still accomplish His perfect will for His creation.

That means, to me, that I need not worry that Dora doesn't have a grandma Darla.

"And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose." Romans 8:28

Not only will His will be accomplished despite her death...Her death will be used for GOOD in Dora's life! I don't know how. It is a bad event. I frequently miss her and am angered that Dora doesn't have the benefit of her love. I'm sure this summer Dora would have spent some time with her. Some of my favorite memories are spending weeks every summer with my Grandma. (Not to mention the fact that this would have been a great time for my wife and I to reconnect as a couple). See...I still see it as a bad event.

But God assures His will will not be thwarted by bad events.

So finally, my question:

How is God using my mother's untimely death for good in my daughter's life?

What If...

2010-07-28T09:53:00.006-06:00

We took a quick trip to San Antonio this past weekend. Among several other things, we were able to go to Six Flags, fiesta Texas.

I love roller-coasters so I was pretty much a happy guy last Friday. Even better, my 9 year old daughter enjoys most of them with me.

We rode this:

And this:

And then the water park opened. It was actually attached to the theme park which was awesome (and free). This was my daughter's first time at a water park. She loved the Lazy River...in fact, I think we spent two hours total just floating and swimming along with the current. It was stormy on and off that day so we were in and out of the water a lot, and we didn't get to ride the huge slides...but at the end of the day, we got a chance to ride one.

Not that one, but I am sure to my little one it looked like that one. It was just she and I standing in line waiting for about 30 minutes. She paced and looked, and then let loose an onslaught of "What ifs..." and "Are you sures." No matter what I said, she was sure she was going to: fall, slide off the edge of a curve, drown, flip, or crash. I was so fascinated because I was watching myself. That was me at her age. And if you read one of my recent posts.....it's still me to some extent.

I watched as her fear grew and fed on itself, despite my most logical arguments ("What would have happened if anyone had ever been hurt on this ride?") and my most sincere fatherly reassurance ("I know you and love you and would never take you on something which would scare or hurt you.")

Of course I gave her plenty of option to get out of line.

She refused every time. That made me proud but also was a great study of faith and human nature to go TOWARD those things that we fear, despite our fear. She trusts me...but needed to vent her anxiety.

How could I convince her that it was going to be fun and not terrifying!? I couldn't. The ride did. I bet her a dollar at the top of the ride that at the end, she would tell me it was a fun ride. As we gently rode the water down to the pool at the bottom, she talked her way through, "This isn't so bad. This is cool! We really are going slower than it looked. It's really not that high." Splash down brought a surprised pleasant squeal...and as we got out of the pool...

"Well Daddy, I guess I owe you a dollar."

I guess that was a reasonable price to pay for that life lesson.

Bring It!

2010-07-13T13:02:00.002-06:00

I recently took the plunge and decided to purchase a home workout DVD series seen on late night TV.

My wife and I are into the second month of the program and I must say...it is...intense.

Last night I was working out solo and Little One was watching me. Half way through she said, "I'm tired just watching you Daddy." and then left the room.

5 minutes later she was back with a fresh glass of ice water, with straw. And a carefully folded damp towel with an ice pack in the middle. "This will help you cool off."

Just the second wind inducer I needed to keep myself in great shape for me...and for her!

Thanks Little One....I am more amazed with who you choose to be day by day.

Scaredy Cat

2010-07-05T16:22:00.006-06:00

A while back I heard a radio sermon on the way to Walmart that somehow gave me a brief glimpse of life without fear. I tried to jot down what the man said that gave me the respite but could not capture it well enough that fear did not take it's un-rightful spot in my heart a day later.

I am a BIG coward.

Always have been.

I'm afraid to talk to people. I'm even afraid to be seen in public sometimes. I'm afraid I'll lose my job. I'm afraid I'll get a chronic, debilitating illness...or die. I'm afraid my wife or child will die. I'm afraid of this and that and the other.

I know that much of that stems from me father's own fears. He too was a big coward. I also know that some of it stems from my lack of self-confidence.

But the bulk is from the enemy. I believe that somehow I gave him permission to have his way with my "fear centers" and he has been having his way ever since.

I believe that most men, if they were really honest, would agree that they, too are afraid.

Some give in to it and play life safe.

Some run away from it and drink, drug, or sex their way into permanent denial.

A few face it head on and it pushes them to great heights.

I want to banish it.

I always thought that winning about $5 mill. would do it. No more fear of money problems.

Then I figured I would also need full genetic testing to ensure I don't have any major deadly ailments on the horizon.

Then I figured I could wrap my wife and child in bubble wrap, lock them in a safe-room and ...

You get the picture.

I think God is leading me to the truth over time though, banishing fear means taking away the main weapon the enemy uses to tweak it...

ME!

(It says..."I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am.")

(Good one huh Ken?)

Not me personally as in getting rid of myself but ME! philosophically. My own inflated self-importance.

You see. I'm really, really important. I don't know if you readers realize how incredibly valuable and important I am. In fact, I don't think I could live without me. I'm so important that, if I suffer, the world is over. If I lose my bank account, everything would crumble.

Of course you realize what I mean: I believe that the moment I REALLY grasp and accept that the world, life, is not about ME!, then the enemy loses his power to make me afraid of losing me...or mine.

620,000 people died in the American civil war.

51,000 men died in the Battle of Gettysburg.

Did they believe life was all about them?

Most probably did. It's hard to be small and insignificant.

But we are. For all my illusions of importance, for all my illusions of what I deserve from my life....I am a speck on a flea on a small dog in a world full of a billion other dogs. (Not sure that was the scale I was going for but...)

You know what's absolutely insane though?

God disagrees.

29Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. 30And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31So don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. (Matthew 10:29-31)

Oh yeah, and He allowed His son to die in our place so that we can not only be free from the Law of guilt and death, but so that we could be with Him forever...I guess that's kind of like winning the lottery.

Another weapon for this warrior. When my mind whispers and attempts to terrify: I must remember:

Being important in the world is fleeting and an illusion. The truth is my importance in God's eyes. He knows my name, the number of hairs on my head, His plan for the effect my life is to have on others, and most importantly, my address in Heaven.

Peace...be not afraid.

Next time: Can Christain's go on the offensive, or are are we in a strictly defensive posture until the end?

Waiting with Bated Breath...

2010-06-30T18:12:00.003-06:00

I know. You can't wait for the next installment of WAR!

Sorry. I'm afraid...wait...

I should say, "I presently struggle with..."

At least that's what my new best friend Tony Horton says...

I presently struggle with getting in gear and writing something about WAR III.

Someone I know well made a remark that made good sense to me...

Brief...and to the point has not been my strong point.

Anyway...I was a FOOL and committed to a one hour presentation on Time Management to our local CPS office. Dave Ramsey calls it STUPID TAX, but, I said yes to a 60$ fee for a 1 hour presentation on a topic I not only know little about, but do not practice.

Counting preparation HOURS, I am now down to that 60$ being 7 $ an hour. By the end, I think I'll have to send them money.

One Dora Diane-ism:

"Daddy, I love you more than anything else in the whole world...even though your breath kind of stinks like fish..."

Yeah kid, I love you too, diaper changing and all!

War II

2010-06-17T09:34:00.008-06:00

Let me remind you of a fun game you can play with your 1 year old child.

Step 1) Wait until they pick up something you don't want them to put in their mouth (Like your game console controller).

Step 2) Approach them very carefully by getting their attention with a toy you know they will be interested in. (Sorry Mom, for the dangling participle....I'm getting lazy.)

Step 3) While handing them the toy with one hand, casually extract the controller with the other, hide it behind your back and "Voila!," they forget they had the controller in the first place.

Psychologists call this Re-di-rec-tion.

Normal people call it, distraction.

It is a powerful technique by any name.

Let's try it with war: Operation Overlord or D-Day occurred June 6, 1944. The build up to the ultimately successful invasion of Eastern Europe by allied forces required months and months of build up of forces and supplies. The allies were faced with the realization that the Nazis would know that "something" was coming and thus, turned to a remarkable and ingenious series of "redirections" or "distractions" to keep the Nazis from focusing on the real danger. For example:

"An entirely fictitious First U.S. Army Group ("FUSAG"), supposedly located in southeastern Britain under the command of General McNair and General Patton was created in German minds by the use of double agents and fake radio traffic. Dummy tanks (some inflatable), trucks, and landing craft, as well as troop camp facades (constructed from scaffolding and canvas) were placed in ports on the eastern and southeastern coasts of Britain, and the German Air Force was allowed to photograph them. The Allied Forces even went as far as to broadcast static over Axis accessible radioways and convinced Germany to expend efforts to try to decode white noise, further leading Germany away from the upcoming Normandy invasion." (Wikipedia "Operation Overlord") ((Yes...I use Wiki.)

Amazing what we humans can do; how wars are won, with lies.

I think our ability to "redirect" pales to white in comparison with our enemies'. One of the greatest weapons he has is his ability to convince us that we should be looking at all the "bright and shineys" over here rather than to the "boring stuff" over there. A few practical examples:

I could have spent 30 minutes this morning reading, but instead surfed the internet. I could have awakened early and prayed...just for 10 minutes or so...I slept that extra 10 minutes. I could have averted my eyes from the attractive pictures...but didn't. (That was just a made up example for the blog honey.)

Now. I don't know if we have a personal "demon" or "demons" which fly around after us with little red bat wings whispering temptations in our ears. Knowing just a little about human nature, I believe that would be overkill for most of us because the layers and layers of lies have been crafted to hit us right where we are weakest. Freud called it the Pleasure Principle and Immediate Gratification. We like what we like when we like it. It's unconscious, it's immediate, and, in the moment, it's Oh so good.

But it's all a mirage, a redirection. "Just one little smoke. Just one little drink. Just one little peek. Just one little...."

Just one little doesn't exist for most humans. If that "one little" feels good, our animal selves note that it didn't kill us, so, why not go for a second little...

So we who were "set free" decide to trade our chains for blindfolds and ear muffs.

Why practice the fight when we can watch TV instead? Why study when we can go out? Why listen to the truth when the lies feel so good, and seem so filling...in the moment.

The bible writers called it our "flesh." Over and over they drew a distinct divide between our flesh and our spirit. Our flesh, ruled by instinct and urges, and our spirit, able to be changed, filled, "born again."

Either way. "Born again" or not, I know most recognize this famous quote from the apostle Paul:

"For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh) dwells no good thing. For to will is present with me, but how to perform that which is good I do not find. For I do not do the good that I desire; but the evil which I do not will, that I do." Romans 7:18-19

In other words: When I pause to reflect, I know exactly what I should be doing...but 95% of the time, I choose the alternatives...and there are so many!

In a way, Paul seems to be identifying a battle with himself...yet we were created to not suffer this war. Thus, the war has been brought to us...the enemy preys on what have become our weaknesses.

We are at war against an enemy who simply has to turn up the volume, or shine a brighter light on those things which will tickle our desires...and we drop out of the fight.

So what weapons do we have against this enemy.

"So humble yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you." James 4:7

Practically, what does this mean. Pray? Verbally rebuke "Satan?"

Whatever works...but I think once we realize we are faced with some temptation we need to resist, part of the battle has been turned in our favor. The curtain is pulled back, or the "veil over our eyes" has been lifted enough for us to realize and acknowledge that we are in a battle...a serious battle.

I used to, and still sometimes do say, "Shut up!" I've prayed before for strength and faith in those moments. Recently, what really seems to work for me when I do it is simply say clearly, "That's a lie." I don't know what that does on a "spirit" level...or even if it does anything at all. I do know that, on a flesh level...I HATE lies. And I HATE, HATE being lied too. The recognition that I (or maybe even the enemy) is trying to lie to me gives me the emotional "UMF" to "turn away" and go about my business.

That's my two cents on just one of the many weapons at the enemy's disposal...the invisible weapon of redirection.

War III will involve the weapon which all of us know all too well...which threatens to defeat me even today. It bears a little more resemblance to false threat warfare (E.g. "You don't have time to pray, you're about to lose your job!")

"Of course you know...THIS MEANS WAR!"

2010-06-06T13:24:00.012-06:00

That's one of my daughter's and my favorite things to say to each other. (That and "You're a booger head." to which the proper reply is: "No, YOU'RE a booger head!")

Anyway, I just picked up a book by John Eldredge called Waking The Dead. I picked it up initially because he also wrote one of my very favorite books of all time, Wild At Heart. If you are a man, and have never read this book...you must.

Allow me to emphasize that: I have a 25 year old step-son. He is a wonderful young man...but as you can imagine, he and I have a history as all step-children and their parents have. I gave him a copy of Wild at Heart two years ago with the inscription that it was one of the most important books I had ever read. Well, he read it and recently told his mom; "Everyone should read that book!" So....it's worth the risk to pick it up.

I didn't get but 3 pages into Waking the Dead before being hit with an amazing sentence. I quote:

"The birth of Christ was an act of war, an invasion." (p. 16)

BAM! I put the book down in stunned silence and felt pieces fall into place in my mind that I never knew were out of place.

I've always known that life is a battle. It became crystal clear with the birth of my daughter. Everything I want for her, there are forces mounted to steal it away...even her safety. So her mother and I are vigilant, we carry guns (literally), and we say "no" a lot.

That's an obvious war.

The war human kind is in is deeper than that, and it is entirely hidden from our view because we have been taught from a very early age to accept the casualties, the collateral damage, as a part of life.

"Accidents happen." "That's the way God made them." I've said those multiple times to ... protect my daughter from the truth... Sometimes really, really, really bad things happen. Some people are destroyed, or nearly destroyed (physically, psychologically) through no fault of their own. I know my intent is also to get her ready for whatever may befall her. We expect these things. We tolerate them. Because we have no choice. And we blame....God, life, our parents, fate, the stars, ghosts, our past, randomness...

But we are in the middle of a war. We didn't declare it, but we are in it.

"The birth of Christ was an act of war, an invasion."

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." John 10:10 (Jesus speaking)

Only dead people need life. Jesus came because the thief was already here, stealing, killing, and destroying. I notice He didn't say..."I came to get rid of the thief." He didn't though, He came to give me my life back. And to do so, was to declare war on the thief.

"just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." Matthew 20:28

I like this verse. A ransom. Rather than lead soldiers in the charge against the thief, the final battle was won with an act of ransom. If the question arises whether or not He was prepared for battle:

"Put your sword back in its place," Jesus said to him, "for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?" Matthew 26:52-54

A full strength legion was 6000 soldiers so, more than 72,000 angelic warriors were standing at the ready (I imagine they were just begging to be cut loose.)

No. Christ came to declare war by setting us free. Paying the ransom so that we could no longer be condemned for our sin. He came to pay the ultimate price for us.

Why? Why not just wipe out the enemy then and there?

I think the answer is that He didn't have too. He set us free so that we could win battles...to fight the thief, and help free those who don't know they are free.

Who am I in the war...or who might I be?

The answer to this question is simple if I view the enemy as a thief...not engaged in open warfare but in massive subversion, subterfuge, and propaganda. This enemy is not allowed to kill me...(but can use every means at his disposal to get me to kill myself.)

If I was such an enemy, I would use everything I could to make sure that the best and brightest of the warriors destroy themselves. I would convince them first and foremost that the idea that they are in a battle is ridiculous and a little hyper-religious. "Come on!" I might goad, "What's next, are you going to become a bible-thumper?" "Only the most radical religions believe they are in a war."

Then I would start in on the weapons: "Ummm," I might say, "That sword of yours...kind of looks pathetic." "And....well, your shield...looks like you forgot it." "You can't win...you can't even fight!"

Then, I'd remind my prey that there are others who can better handle this battle.

Then I would dangle all the great things this world has to offer and thus, distract them from the battle in the first place. "Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll man, that's where it's at!" "The world is a scary place...you better just get what you can while you are alive. You don't want to die unhappy do you?"

Then all I would have to do is sit back and watch as my prey miserably but inevitably implodes...taking as many people with them as I can keep connected.

I'd be a good Satan...I know it. I've agreed with him all too often.

But I'm in a war. Spectators get rolled over. I want in the fight. Even if I have to get dirty, to sweat, to bleed, I'm tired of believing ALL of the lies!

You see, I'm not just a warrior.....I'm on the winning team.

"I come not to bring peace, but to bring a sword" (Jesus) Matthew 10:34

To be continued...

You Know You're In Trouble When...

2010-06-05T16:17:00.003-06:00

I noticed just now that I LOST A FOLLOWER!!!

It is my own fault...seeing as how I have neglected to blog for over 3 months! I have a few really good excuses...but I feel guilty giving excuses. The phrase, "Quit making excuses." reverberates in my head when I try.

(I love it when people, including myself in the past preface a statement by saying, "I'm not making excuses but...")

How about a reason:

I have not blogged due to several distractions, none of which include the loss of my ability to blog...simply my motivation to do so. I have several great ideas...and of course, much inspiration due to my darling daughter.

A quick story:

Last night, we discovered a very small number of very small critters in Little One's room. We were busy relocating her temporarily to her big brother's room (AKA our guest room, weight room, etc.) when we found her scraping something off of the wall next to the bed. When asked what she was doing, she stated,
"I'm trying to get these boogers off the wall." Sure enough...what she was working on did look like dried boogers which had been wiped on the wall (I KNOW you all remember doing this as kids.) When we asked her how she knew they were boogers she said, "Because I used to do that too."

Ahhh, honesty. I love it.

To those of you who stop by and read this: Thank you for hanging in there and waiting. I really do have some thoughts I will be composing and sharing. And to those of you I follow, sorry that I have not checked in on your blogs recently...I will be doing so more frequently. I enjoy reading what you have to say.

God Bless.

Well, well, well

2010-03-09T15:54:00.002-06:00

It's not that I can't believe that we actually found Gwin...today, just now. After all, I did request prayers, we prayed, little one prayed, and you friends prayed some as well.... It's WHERE my daughter and wife found her.

You guessed it...she went home. Or at least to where she was running free with some of her buddies.

How does a 1 year old dog find her way from our house in a small town, five to ten miles away to her previous haunt? She's a dog!? HOW does that happen? I'm pretty amazed.

New question...how do we convince her to stay in her "new" home with us? Not so sure.

(And, did I finish fixing the fence? What do you think? (At least I started!)) It's going to be a long evening...

But, little one is happy....all is well.

Thank you for your thoughts and prayers.

Help....

2010-03-04T12:24:00.003-06:00

Ok. I have a very MINOR issue compared to other's issues which I would never even think to burden anyone with if it were just for me....

But this is for my child.

Little one found a stray black Lab. about 5 miles from town while with her mother. The dog was obviously starving but responded very well to her (as Lab's are known to do.) We lost the dog, then searched the area a couple of times a day for three days, FOUND the dog, got the dog into the car and spent 100$ at the vet getting her checked out. She has been with us for 48 hours in our back yard, near our other older male lab. She is sweet, gentle, very hungry, and had a high fever but is being treated. This morning, we went outside to feed her and love on her...

You guessed it...Labs can JUMP. We have a silly low place in our 6 foot fence and she found it, and jumped it (at least 4 feet high) some time overnight.

Don't know where she is right now, we'll call the pound, post fliers etc. But you know how big her tears were this morning. OUCH!

Anyway, if you could breath a prayer, I know a little girl with a huge heart who would really love to have HER dog back.

Thanks. (Now I'm off to get some 6 foot pickets......)

2010-02-22T14:17:00.003-06:00

Just a quick one...

Water heater went out over the weekend. After visions of ripping out and installing a new one, I was rather perturbed last night when, after trying to relight it for the umpteenth time, I flipped the pressure release valve and it wouldn't stop relieving pressure!!

After a few gentle taps with my fist (real intelligent), I realized I just needed to turn off the water inflow valve and worry about the leak later.

Anyway, that night at bedtime I was sitting and talking with little one and said, "Wow, Daddy just doesn't feel good about fixing things like water-heaters."

She responds, "Yeah, but you ARE a tough guy aren't you!"

I don't know where she got it, but it sure made me smile.

(It turns out there is a very small, non-descript button which, when pressed "re-sets" the thermocouple. And the leak...a few more jiggles of the valve and it stopped. So, tonight, I get to relight the thing for once and for all....(and thanks Dad for telling me when I was 4 that sometimes water-heaters explode...I cringe every time I get near it.))

Can't wait to share about the bathroom remodeling!

But I don't worry too much any more...

I'm a tough guy!

Flushed

2010-02-11T12:24:00.002-06:00

Funny story.

A long, long time ago I began to "fix" our bathroom. I'm not so good at that...so finally, call it a Valentine's gift, I called a plumber. He is a great guy and worked while we weren't home to get our pipes repaired. He thought he might be able to do it without having to cut through the wall behind the toilet...I wondered and hoped that he could.

First clue that he had to get back there...we arrived home and found our bathroom toilet (green toilet mind you) in the front yard. Ok, after trying to lift it, I understood why he had not carried it all the way to the back yard.

Still, that evening, under cover of darkness, out I went to quickly drag the really heavy old style toilet around to the back. I even turned off the lights in the front to avoid being spotted. Well, of course, right as I got to the middle of the front driveway...along came not one, but two slow moving cars. I would have loved to be one of the drivers seeing a guy dragging a toilet from his front to his backyard, at night, in a robe and slippers.

Oh yeah.

Found This Great Story...

2010-02-08T14:46:00.002-06:00

Found this on a blog I recently began following: http://ronjoewhite.blogspot.com/. I really enjoyed it and thought you might too.

A man’s daughter had asked the local pastor to come and pray with her father. When the pastor arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. The pastor assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit.....

“I guess you were expecting me,” he said.

“No, who are you?”

“I’m the new associate at your local church,” the pastor replied.“When I saw the empty chair, I figured you knew I was going to show up.”

“Oh yeah, the chair,” said the bedridden man. “Would you mind closing the door?”

Puzzled, the pastor shut the door.

“I’ve never told anyone this, not even my daughter,” said the man.“But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk aboutprayer, but it always went right over my head. I abandoned any attempt at prayer,” the old man continued, “until one day about four years ago my best friend said to me, ‘Joe, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here’s what I suggest. Sit down on a chair, place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It’s not spooky because he promised, ‘I’ll be with you always.’ Then just speak to him and listen in the same way you’re doing with me right now.”“So, I tried it and I’ve liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I’m careful, though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she’d either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm.”

The pastor was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, and returned to the church.

Two nights later the daughter called to tell the pastor that her daddy had died that afternoon.

“Did he seem to die in peace?” he asked.

“Yes, when I left the house around two o’clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me one of his corny jokes, and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead. But there was something strange, In fact, beyond strange-kinda weird. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside the bed.”

Unknown Author

Lonely Assumptions

2010-02-02T12:33:00.000-06:00

This is a follow up to "Little Turd" you can read below. While I don't know what has, or is happening today at school, I know that, after a phone call and an email, the educators at my daughter's wonderful school have taken aggressive action to deal with the situation last Friday.

Color me embarrassed. Here I was blaming God, society, myself, parents, little kids, when all the while, this moved as if it was according to plan. What if:

I had not been there to hear it. My daughter would never have even thought to say anything and it is possible it would have continued and even become worse.

But that is not what happened. I was there, at the right time, in the right place, having built recognition in the boy enough that he was not on guard in his comments (I eat lunch with Dora 3 out of 4 Fridays a month.)

While I would like for God to FIX things before they happen, we know that is not the way He seems to move (as far as we know....when fixing something before it happens, it never happens and thus, we never know it was "fixed." This way of intervention made good sense. Bad things were happening, put a "good force" in place to make a change. ("Good force" is in quotes to avoid giving the illusion that I believe that "I" am the good force. I just pray. (As I pointed out to Delma, with maybe a handful of exceptions, we have prayed with/for Dora Diane out loud and together every day for 9 years and 7 months (we started when we found out Delma was pregnant). That's...hold on while I calculate: 7000 prayers (Mine plus Delma's). Add hers in and you have 10500 offered up in agreement as a family over the past almost 10 years. (Not counting when she is sick, or in the morning, etc...)) My wife is positive that, while prayer is not necessarily going to prevent hardship...that it does affect outcomes. I want to agree...I need to agree...but my faith is burdened with doubt. Not all the time. But after events like this...

I ranted Friday night while we were fretting: "We've prayed every day for her since birth and STILL this happens." I went on to spiral down to where I was doubting His existence, bla, bla, bla. (I would have been one of Job's friends...never could I have mustered the faith of the man himself.) Why I was surprised I don't know...We are told that we live IN the world but are not to be OF this world. We have been kidnapped and placed in this false, scary place run by Freddy Kruger and Jason. Sometimes Jason gets his hits in on all of us. But somehow, God is able to overcome. God moves in and out among us, and acts THROUGH us to bring about His plan (which for some reason is not the same as MY plan....though my pea-brain thinks mine could be pretty good if we could just give it a chance...oh wait, that's already happened....yeah, that was a mess.)

Anyway, anyway. I jumped to several conclusions last Friday:

1) God is unable to deal with this, didn't catch it, doesn't care, or doesn't exist.

2) I am alone and thus, on my own to deal with these things.

Both of those strike me as pathetic under-estimations of my fellow man and woman, and of a perfect God.

What I learned so far:

1) God is not only able to work out His perfect plan despite what the world presents or how the world adulterates it...but that He IS working out His perfect plan RIGHT NOW; all around me, and in me. Perhaps He would say: "Just open your eyes Richard, whenever you are ready to plug in to the work I am doing, I'll be ready to use you."

2) I am NOT alone. I am NOT the ONLY one who feels the way I feel about injustice. There are many fellow warriors placed around me who are ready, willing, and able to fight with me. I hope they know the same about me....

To the warriors out there:

Thank you for being willing to be a tool. How do you know when it is happening? I seem to just see it on the other side and realize, "Ohhhh, I was being used as a pair of pliers there...how ingenious."

So, Dora is ok, her friend is ok, the little boys concerned are learning valuable lessons, and who knows how that can develop for them catching it now, rather than later... I guess that makes us just that much more ready to face the next battle....it should be coming along any minute now.

Will I be able to use these eyes should it be intractable illness, horrible accident, loss, etc.....

"And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast." 1 Peter 5:10

Little Turd

2010-01-29T14:45:00.001-06:00

Ok.

I don't like to offend ANYONE...But I am really ticked. I ate lunch with my daughter today at her school and sat there quietly listening to the conversation in the group in which we sat. Two girls, two boys, and me. The conversation started out as usual 3rd grade chatter about this or that. One of the boys wanted to be president and he shared who could serve with him. There was the border work (childish flirting) about who would marry who.

And then it turned ugly. The boys both pointed at the most popular girl in third grade and ridiculed her innocent actions from afar. ("Crap," I thought to myself, "My daughter is sitting with the geeks who can't do anything but make fun of popular people.")

Then the little boy I will affectionately call "TURD" said to me: "Mr. Hickam, Mr. Hickam (chuckle, chuckle) guess what (so and so) told (so and so...the girl sitting with my daughter)." Then he turns to the other boy and says, "Tell him, tell him about the bed."

Mayday, mayday, I think to myself and take a very keen interest in my daughters food.

The other boy is smart enough, or has boundary's enough to be embarrassed. But, of course, as turds do, his friend continued..."He was going to do it to her."

I was very obviously ignoring him at this point and he was no longer speaking to me. My daughter, who hardly said a word the whole time played oblivious to the entire exchange. I could have called attention to it by playing parent...but imagined the ridicule this would bring upon my daughter in the future. After all, these are the geeks apparently, who like to make fun of everything. So I just talked to little one about her day, and the weekend...and started composing what I will say to her about what she is facing in school.

I guess it is a gift that I was privy to this. I need to know what she is being sucked into due to the relationships she is forming, or are being formed around her.

I'm ticked though. I've always thought it sucks that we spend so much time tearing others down...but I've always understood that you don't talk to girls like that. You talk with your guy friends about that stuff all the time....but never in front of girls.

So who is the Little Turd's father? Does he know how badly he is failing....and how one man's failure ripples outward and impacts other innocents.

Crap. What can I possibly do but pull her out of the whole school. I can't tell her who she can and can't sit with...she will be forced by peer pressure to disobey and thus begin the process of hiding things from her parents because we burden her with impossible demands.

"Get away from my child you Turd!" Maybe I should have said something. Yeah, I think I should have said something...Crap. I guess I'm the Turd too.

God give me the words to speak so that she will hear the truth....(but I would also appreciate it if you could help her find some good people to be friends with).

How do I start...

2010-01-25T14:23:00.000-06:00

After not blogging for so long, I figure the best way to get back into the swing is to just...start.

Christmas was wonderful at our house. At 9, I believe this was probably one of Dora Diane's very last years believeing in Santa. She loves the mystery and excitement of Christmas. That is one thing Mom always did for us...made Christmas amazing. Dad gets credit there as well.

On Christmas morning, Dora got up first and went down the dark hall into the "dark" living room to see if Santa had come. Delma and I had been laying awake for about 45 minutes just waiting for her to wake up...we didn't want to ruin it for her. She ran out and then RAN back to the safety of our bedroom to announce, then ran back....you know, most of you have seen similar joy. I wish we could bottle it up when we are young and then take it in doses as we age.

Another source of joy for our family were the 3, count them THREE separate days of snow. We so love snow in our house. Dora and I spent hours each day gathering, building, and throwing snowballs. We prided ourselves in being the only house on the block which used up our entire yard of snow each day.

School is back in session. I have been very nervous for the past two weeks. So much so I even let the thought of medication pass my mind. Just a tiny little bit to cut the edge off.... Unfortunately, I don't think I will persue it. My anxiety over standing in front of a classroom full of people is minor and is something that I can treat behaviorally. It has a purpose...the more I prepare, the less anxious I feel (go figure!). The pill would be easy for me....but I don't think it would make me a better teacher. So I'm not Steve Martin up there....maybe I can at least share some interesting and important information.

Delma and I picked up an amazing book after stumbling across it during a Sunday school lesson. It is called Love and Respect by Dr. Emerson Eggerich. All I can say is, if you are married and find yourself arguing with your mate about the same old things...or even new things, please read this book...at least pick it up when you see it in the store and read the first chapter. I really think this guy has finally put the truth into simple enough language for me to get. Good stuff.

Dora Diane continues to teach me about life and myself every day. I wish I could convey all of it here, if for nothing else but for her to know as she grows older.

When you read this someday booger...I was just kidding about Santa! Keep your stocking.

The Tongue, To Hold Or Not To Hold (Part 1)

2009-11-24T15:17:00.000-06:00

I thought I would share some of what I have been learning as I prepare for the college class on Sundays...So, last weeks lesson:

Ahhh, the tongue. A wonderful muscle (centimeter for centimeter, the most powerful muscle in the human body): It moves food, tastes it, detects texture, makes funny popping sounds, helps us whistle, rolls, folds, sticks out, touches noses, licks lips, sticks to frozen things, etc... But have you ever considered what trouble our tongues get us into?

From tongue tied, to tongue lashing; tip-of-the-tongue to the cat getting it, it has it's problems. For example, James says:

And the tongue is a fire, the very world of iniquity; the tongue is set among our members as that which defiles the entire body, and sets on fire the course of our life, and is set on fire by hell. James 3:6

That's a bit harsh...but James was, after all Jesus' half-brother and witnessed first hand the harm unbridled speech could cause. So, he points out, not only is the tongue a source of spreading destruction (consider the "rumor mill") but also, "set apart among the members of our body" as "that which defiles the entire body." Defile is such a harsh word. I found a couple of things when I looked it up:

1) Defile, as you might expect means to make dirty or unclean. Ok...that makes plenty of sense, I can say some pretty nasty things, and I recall going through my Junior High cussing phase when I punctuated everything with four letter words. I felt pretty nasty...and I wanted to be back then, nasty was "cool." I found something else though:

2) Defile also means, "To violate the chastity of" and "To desecrate." It strikes me that James might just be using a clever play on thoughts there. On the one hand, we Christians are to be "set apart"(consecrated) from the world. And on the other, the tongue is "set apart" from the other members of our body as the portion which can soil a consecrated being.

So, I think to myself, what is it that I say that could be so bad? Well...I won't repeat those things here (this a family blog)...but I wouldn't say them in front of my daughter. And I guess that makes me pretty special doesn't it?

Yeah, right. As I thought about this last week and this, I realized that maybe letting a four letter word slip out in front of her might be better than some of the trash she listens to me spew. I really try, but James is not talking about curse words...that's just first line stuff. He seems to me to be talking about those things which keep my eyes and mind, and the eye's and mind's of those listening to me focused on the "world." The problems, the "dirt" on that guy, the ridiculous decisions being made by the U.S. Gov. right now (do I have to tame my fingers too?), and how come we can't have this or that...?

But no one can tame the tongue; it is a restless evil and filled with deadly poison. (But didn't you just say we should tame our tongue...why try if it can't be done?) With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in the likeness of God. (Oh) (James 3:8, 9)

Say what you want to say about me...but say what you might say about my daughter....made in the image of ME...and you can take it up with me.

As James says: "My brethren, these things ought not to be this way!"

So, let's recap:

1) My tongue not only defiles me, but it destroys others, whether with fire or deadly poison.

2) I can't tame it.

3) It makes me worse than a hypocrite, praising God but cursing His creations...which is the same as cursing Him.

"Oh wretched man that I am, who will save me from this body of death?" Romans 7:24

"Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death." Romans 8:1,2

Yes! (Fist pump)

I found something really practical to help me try to do my (small) part in taming my tongue. I learned a long time ago to pray for a watch guard to be set over my lips. ("Set a guard over my mouth, O LORD; keep watch over the door of my lips." Psalms 141:3)

I found this great suggestion...if one guard is good...why not four! My challenge to myself this week is this, to consciously work to tame my tongue by checking what I say against these four criteria:

Watch 1) Is what I am about to say the truth?

Watch 2) Is what I am about to say being said in love...is it loving (and all that comes with loving others)?

Watch 3) Does it need to be said, is it necessary (or am I just saying something because I think it is time to talk)?

Watch 4) Is what I am about to say wise with heavenly versus earthly wisdom?

I can't tell you how many times I have kept my big mouth shut over the past three days!

But! Are Christians just supposed to shut up, sit down, and stay quiet? No, I don't think so. We are set apart for a purpose, our members tools for the Master, and our tongues the most powerful of those tools...

Part 2...coming soon.

My New Teaching Job

2009-11-03T11:26:00.000-06:00

Five years ago I was granted the opportunity to teach psychology at our local Junior College. I was, and still am thrilled at the incredible opportunity. The chance to affect young lives is an awesome responsibility which I take very seriously.

Five weeks ago, I was granted the opportunity to teach the college class Sunday School at our local First Baptist Church. Seems like a logical choice...college teacher by week, Sunday school college teacher by weekend. Guy knows how to present a message to a group...etc...

I have prepared two lessons so far. The first took me 7 hours, the second took me 8 (and I was wrong about teaching that week anyway so I never got to deliver it). It is REALLY hard! I wish I had a Master's in theology versus a Master's in Psychology.

Doling out man's wisdom is easy compared to comprehending some of the mysteries of God...and getting it wrong...well, that would be bad.

It doesn't help that the topic for last week was James 2 (Wherein he seems to contradict Paul's contention that we are saved by faith and not by works.) Even bible scholars have shied away from that one.

It gets better though, next Sunday, when I am (for sure) teaching, I get to deal with James 1. This is where James (probably the half-brother of Jesus) says that we are blessed when we face trials and hardships.

GREAT! If I were a religious man, and I am, I would say there is a conspicuous irony in ME being the one to present these passages with insightful commentary. I worry that I might see this a bit differently than some in the Baptist church.

One preacher whom I respect a great deal once told me he believed that trials and test come directly from God in order to test us, to temper us (like steel). I don't like that answer. C.S. Lewis is quoted, erroneously I might add, in the movie Shadowlands as saying that hardships on us are like "blows of the Master's hammer upon our souls, which hurt us so much at the time, but make us perfect." My thought there is..."ummm, couldn't we just skip the blows of the hammer and start out perfect please."

Anyway, the movie progresses to the point where he is challenged in his earlier views to see such trials as coming from God. Indeed, James himself says that we aren't to consider temptation as coming from God because God can't do anything evil.

It's all very confusing without a real grasp of things like .... GREEK!

Yes. Quite ironic. Anyway, fortunately for me, my church membership, and my sanity, I own a really good bible commentary...and there is one for free on the Internet which sells in stores for several hundred dollars.

That's why it takes me so long. Understanding, much more teaching the Word of God involves understanding Who it is all about, and the fact the He is a much more capable people builder than I.

So once again, I am reminded that, IT'S NOT ABOUT ME!!!!!

(rats.)

A Brain Peek

2009-10-26T13:20:00.000-06:00

So, we are sitting outside enjoying a "Sunday evening in the park" church service when my little one climbs on my lap and asks, "Daddy, how long did it take to get over losing your parents because it took me like 30 minutes to get over losing a light up reindeer." (Two years ago some miscreants stole the lighted Christmas deer we had purchased for her...Those were tears which made me want to hunt someone down...)

Just like that. Two disparate pieces of information combined in her brain with no apparent prompting. I love those little peeks inside of her brain.

The singing had started and I barely had time to say, "A very long time." I know she is at the age where she is really starting to process a lot of information which has been "over her head" so I will probably go back and build on that answer...I just wanted to record it here and note that every once in awhile our kiddos stop being the cared for and seek to be the caretakers.

It's great when a good plan comes together.

2009-10-22T12:05:00.000-06:00

That's what I realized this morning on the way to drop Dora Diane at school.

My plan for her whole (8 year) life has been to model for her how to "look on the bright side" and "think positively." I tend to NOT be one of those people who automatically looks on the bright side but rather, have been accused of "worrying too much." That has not done much to make me a better person so, of course, I want to give my daughter the gift of seeing life differently. Over and over I have stifled my instinctive response in her presence and put a positive spin on whatever is happening at the moment.

Now, I also did not want to create a Pollyanna. Exchanging the delusion that everything is "bad" with the delusion that everything is "good" is no gift. I have worked to be realistic. I have found myself looking for and pointing out the "but at leasts."

Every once in awhile it seems as if my plan has crashed and burned...Dora is quite the dramatic when things are not going her way. But I try to hang on and have faith in the human spirit.

This morning I realized that the heater in my car is not working. Dora was quite interested in this and suggested I try this and that with the switches. At one point repeating something I know she hears from me frequently, "Well, let's give it some more time." Finally, when it was clear after 10 min. that the air was no warmer coming out of the vents she said in her best official sounding tone, "Well, that's ok, it's not TOO cold (it was 40). I'll bet it can be fixed."

I had to agree with a big knowing smile, "You're right Dora Diane, we'll get it fixed soon. And we are, after all, the 'Cold Team.'"

More on "Teams" later. But you know, it really is great to see a good plan come together. Now to work on the "Stay away from boys until you're 28" plan.

And an aside, my good friend just hit a "number of blog follower's milestone," and so did I! I broke 10. Thank you to everyone who follows! I appreciate your interest and hope that every once in awhile, you get a smile out of it.

Better...but ever so slowly.

2009-10-05T12:02:00.001-06:00

Well, she survived (again.) Every illness for little one still pushes me out of my comfort zone (where everything should be perfect and she should never get a bruise). Her flu was very, very mild and after the shot, she never complained about her throat again. The weekend involved NO fever but a lot of sleep. It was hard to watch her drag herself into the school this morning...which she did like a trooper. I was very proud of her.

She has Tiger with her, in his school hiding place in her backpack, so that made her smile.

Boy did we have some clashes this weekend though. So hard being so strong for her...I've realized that the strength I use to love her and play with her must be applied as well to disciplining her. It takes a special kind of strength to listen to her cry, close (slam) the door, and tell me to "go away" after I have sent her to her room.

YIKES!

She took the family for a walk last night after her 3 hour nap. Something we never would have done of our own accord. It was wonderful, the weather was perfect...and she only almost fell off of her razor scooter twice!

Hope you are having a GREAT day at school little one.

No Wishing For More Wishes.

2009-09-28T14:13:00.000-06:00

Remember the elementary school game of “Three wishes?” Someone asks you what you would do if you had three wishes. Well, I ALWAYS used my first one to very cleverly wish for “Infinity more wishes.” This unfortunately negated the purpose of the game however. With “infinity wishes” one never had to prioritize nor even be all that clever about how the wishes were spent.

As I have continued to think about my earlier post on prayer, I realized that the line between praying and wishing is sometimes blurred; which possibly means that the line between a God who answers prayers and a genie who grants wishes has become blurred as well.

I know for a fact that, depending on my situation and my perspective, my view get’s blurry. In fact, I get angry when God doesn’t behave like a genie who answers my prayers on command. If my own personal genie refused to grant my wishes, I’d tell him to get back in his darn bottle and stay there.

Come to think of it, I’ve done the same with God. “Well if you’re not going to change this situation then you can just get back in the bible and stay there. I’m not going to believe in you anymore. I don’t neeeed you anyway.” (childish sarcasm too often mine).

I thought of another crowd by the way (see “Three’s a Crowd" blog below). It’s the crowd my mother told me about a long, long time ago. The “God always answers prayers, He just answers them in three possible ways, ‘Yes,’ ‘No,’ or ‘Wait.’ crowd.” I don’t know if it’s because she told me about it or if it’s because I STILL don’t like to be told “No,” especially when I am as old and wise (smirk) as I am now; but I really resist that crowd.

I also resist it because, to me, it sounds like a cop-out. I don't want to think of it that way...but it sort of allows God to "win" all arguments. If I pray for my child to get well, and she does...God said "yes." If she gets well a month later, God said "wait." If she doesn't get well at all, then God said "no." Ummm...that seems to me to be kind of convenient. I'm uncomfortable with that. So much so that it makes God's response to Job sound more reasonable.

To Job, who lost EVERYTHING but his wife and his own life, God said (and I paraphrase): "Who are you to question Me? Are you God? Do you know everything? Did you create everything the way I did?" I've always read that as rather arrogant and dismissive of Job's suffering...but I have to admit it IS a God-like response. It's even a parental response: Child says "Why" parent says "Because I said so." "Because I said so" is a time saver and a recognition that my child CAN'T understand my reasons in the same way that I can. My child doesn't have the benefit of my experience, or goals, or wisdom. If I tried to share those with them, they would be more confused, possibly misinterpret, and still they would ask, "But why..."

Hmmmmm. Brings to mind: "For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength." 1 Cor. 1:25.

I have worked really hard on this blog. It's important to me. I want it to represent my "wisdom" to date. But when I apply my "wisdom," I come up painfully trite. I tried putting myself in God's shoes to see if I could understand and explain why some suffering occurs. Unfortunately, I can't. If I was God...I feel like I would do it differently. But I don't know what God knows. I can't understand even basic chemical reactions in the body...much less imagine how I would have created them.

I went on some sites I usually don't frequent, which are wholly designed to tear away at the argument for God. A couple in particular make VERY powerful and damaging arguments that God is an illusion...even an organized delusion which is self-perpetuating. As I read, I took pleasure that I found some cracks in those arguments...but I felt the air escape from my puffed up balloon as I also found some chasms in my own apologetics. I am reminded that my belief in God COULD be wrong. I could be, as the more harsh attackers say, a weak, scared, little man who has bought into a comforting delusion to feel stronger, safer, and larger.

That doubt kicked me in the gut today when my wife told me from the Dr's. office that Dora has both strep throat AND the flu...and her lungs are VERY congested. I had 5 minutes so I prayed....and couldn't help but pray "...if You're there...." Then I apologized for my doubt, because I didn't want to hurt my child with my doubt. And then I paced, imagining a world where there is no God looking out for my child; no God who can keep her from getting sicker; no God who can comfort me and keep me from "freaking out," and no God to receive her if she succumbs to her illness and, on a fluke, dies.

That really stunk. I was lonely....profoundly lonely....and very, very frightened.

"Oh God. You might not be there! THIS might be all there is! 60 hours of work a week, a cheap vacation once a year, weekends, my family...and then I die. I've never even been scuba diving!"

When my faith is under attack and threads start to unravel out of the careful tapestry of belief I have woven, I go back to Jesus Christ. But wait, not in the prayer/savior way. But to the fact that this one man, 2000 years ago, changed world history in 33 years. He spoke authoritatively with an intricate wisdom which rivals and bests any Plato or Confucius. He turned expectations on their head and created a movement which, though adulterated often, continues to challenge mankind, and provide hope to those who seek to understand.

And then I think of his friends. Not priests, not great speakers, just fishermen, laborers, and tax-collectors. Stay with me. Think of your friends, average people who are not looking to become religious leaders. Think of what it would take for them, or for you to abandon your work, to go on the road and spread the word about a carpenter's message and life. They lived with Jesus, watched him and learned from him. Then he was tortured and died...no revolution (which they expected him to lead). These ordinary men then make the most extraordinary claim...that he rose from the dead after 3 days.

The Old Testament is early, primitive history of man trying to find God. The New Testament is eyewitness testimony of God trying to help man find Him. These ordinary men, who could have made it all up went on to write about his life, agreed on his message, and died for the man. Some in horrific ways. One was hung on a cross upside down, one beheaded, it goes on. None recanted, some fell into the black hole of history, but some live on in their letters. Found in the New Testament. They wrote with authority, conviction, and confidence that they had been in the presence of God himself. They risked everything to tell this "good news." And they didn't get anything in return...except persecution and painful death.

Finally, I think of the greatest argument I have heard...where the "rubber meets the road" of just who this man was. Jesus Christ existed, he was a real person, historians do not argue this point. Jesus Christ said that he was the Son of God...and died for that claim. There are three possibilities which would account for his claim:

1) He was insane.

2) He was evil.

3) He was telling the truth.

The teachings of Christ, reported by his friends, were not the ravings of an insane man. Would they ALL fall for his insanity? Would they DIE for his teachings....could an ordinary group of very uneducated men even come up with those teachings? I tend to conclude that he was sane and revolutionary. I would cite Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John in the Bible.

If he were evil, would he really have died the way he did for his great hoax. About the time the cat-of-9-tails was ripping the flesh off of his body he probably would have broken down: "Guys, guys, it was a JOKE! Come on, you think I really believe I'm the son of god...please...now, may I please have some band-aids?"

That only leaves one choice.

So. Tonight we knelt at Dora's bed and prayed fervently that He comfort her. We thanked Him for bodies and immune systems and doctors and medicine. (Though Dora does NOT agree that she should have gotten that "world's most painful shot!") And here I sit. Finishing this blog once and for all.

I figured out the end.

Those blogs could be correct. God could be a soothing delusion, my ancestor an amoeba, and my ultimate destination a hole in the ground.

But that must be taken on faith. Those are assumptions, not proven science. My faith is equally as valid.

Christian assertions could be correct as well. God could exist. The Bible could be the "instruction manual" and his invitation to us. He could have sent His Son as the ultimate sacrifice for our sin. And He could listen to, and answer, our prayers.

It is indisputable that He does not answer prayers, nor deal with the suffering of his creations in a way which satisfies me, or makes it easy to believe in Him. But, if I accept that He exists as God...then He is my superior...my creator...my Father. When I ask "WHY?", He can very well say, "Because I said so."

I'm still left with the “no” problem. After all that, I sound like a pretty good guy. I don’t pray to hurt people, only to help. When I pray for something which hurts no one, for an innocent for example...I should be reasonable assured that God will say, "Thanks for your attention to that matter, You bet." I don't understand why He has chosen to say "NO" to some of my most fervent prayers.

All I have is a model:

Once, there was another really good guy (actually he was perfect) who prayed a prayer and asked to be “given a pass.” God said "no" and the guy was beaten to a pulp and tortured to death. (Death by hanging on a cross from the nails in your hands makes water-boarding look like a soothing sponge bath.) God’s own Son said (and I paraphrase) “PLEASE Daddy, I don't want to die like this! Can't You fix it another way?” And God looked at His only Son, who had lived a perfect life, and He said, “No.”

How I hate them, how they infuriate me, how I suffer for them but every once in awhile, I have to thank God for His “no’s,” especially that one.

Just In Case...

2009-09-20T20:40:00.000-06:00

I was talking with my little one briefly about my Grandma Retta today. That prompts me to give a brief nod...

I don't know if I can ever adequately express what this one human being meant to my life. I could say that I owe nearly every good quality that I possess today to her patience and unconditional love for me...but that is too wordy...for me, I believe I have found the closest I can come:

Some people believe that the streets of heaven are paved with gold. Some say we will have wings and harps. I used to think it would be cool if we would be able to play video games all day long. At the ripe old age of 42, I want to make the following offer...

If I get to choose ANYthing for my stay in heaven...I would choose to live in my Grandma Retta's house, with her, as I experienced my time with her during the summers of my youth. Just return me to the smells, the sounds, the sights, and most of all, the feeling of complete unconditional acceptance. That is enough. I don't have to fly, or play the harp, or ever see a video game again. Just let me walk through the door, sound the bells, and hear the clank of the glass as the floor vibrates with every step.

And God, I really, really disagree with you for disallowing my daughter to experience the joy of grandparents. I think that was wrong......................I know it is wrong. I know You do too. Please allow me to make up for that lack.

I pray she can get a small glimpse of the love I experienced from my Grandma through the love she experiences from me.

Maybe someday, when we are forever together, we can share my Grandma Retta.

Three's A Crowd

2009-09-06T18:19:00.000-06:00

Tonight we as a family will say our prayers; as we have done every single night since before Dora Diane was born, Her Mommy and I will kneel by her bed, she will squirm and fidget and I will start: "Now I lay me down to sleep..."

That's how my Mom always did it. Then we would do "God bless ______, God bless _____, etc..." It's important to me that I start that way, though there are some who frown on "programmed prayer" or prayers that are the same every day. We move on from there though; praying for him or her, this or that, etc. Each of us take our turns and Dora closes it out, always signaling the time to say "In Jesus name..." in unison by making her incredibly unique and, I believe noteworthy final prayer that I hope some day will sell some books when I expound upon it so I'm not going to share it here since SO many people read this blog that it might be borrowed......

Anyway.

I know Dora Diane believes that I believe that God listens, hears and acts upon those prayers. Unfettered by adult skepticism born of "unanswered" prayers, humanistic indoctrination, etc...she has no doubt that if Daddy prays it, it will be done...if God decides to do it.

I do too. And therein lies the reason for so much doubt and disbelief in the world; that last little disclaimer..."If God decides to do it." Imagine if God actually answered all the prayers of the faithful. Who would dare to disbelieve?

Joe Johnson's car breaks down by the side of the road. He prays, "Dear God, please let my car start"...and it starts. Sally has a horrible headache and prays, "Dear God, please let my headache be gone." and it goes away. Fred's mother is diagnosed with H1N1 flu, ends up in the hospital and all of a sudden, someone realizes that they forgot to pray, says a quick fervent prayer and, Mom sits up, smiles, and says it's time to go home.

If it worked that way, the way most of us probably secretly believe we would run it if we were God, hospitals would not exist. There would be no need for heart transplants or chemotherapy. No cancer, no hemophilia, no blindness, no hearing problems, no tumors, no need for hospitalization for baby delivery because there would be no birth complications...

And there would be no crime. No murders, muggings, no abductions, no theft; prisons would not exist, rehab would be a thing of the past. For, if there was a crime, the victim would pray that it not happen, and it would be thwarted, then the criminal would notice the miraculous thwarting and give up a life of crime in favor of praying for a job, which he would get.

And his job would be a "good" job with a nice boss who lets him take as much vacation time as possible, which would be ok because the job would be really easy because no one would really have problems. I doubt we would really need banks, because no one would need loans because everyone would have plenty of money. In fact, everyone would win the lottery...but there would really be no lottery because no one would be attracted to it in the first place because no one would suffer from a feeling of want.

This would equalize everyone. If Steve makes $500,000 a year then I don't think, if I could pray for what I want, that I would really settle for less. We would all make $500,000 a year...unless we needed more for a big LCD HD TV...which I would.

But...it doesn't work that way. God is God, not me.

There begins the problem.

Why doesn't it work that way? Impracticality aside, why don't "good" people live easier lives than "bad" people? Is healing a person of a disease really more difficult or more impractical than creating that person in the first place? When Jesus was physically on earth, he did a lot of amazing things. Including healing and raising from the dead....so we know it is possible.

I think it is interesting to note how many different ways great thinkers have worked to reconcile the problem of believing in an all powerful, all knowing, all good God in a world with wars, poverty, famine, plague, murder, disease, and computer crashes.

1) The "If you are suffering it is because the Lord is punishing/testing/tempering you crowd.
2) The "If you pray and it doesn't happen then you don't have enough faith" crowd.
3) The "Suffering is important and necessary for growth" crowd.
4) The "Suffering is really blessing because God gives the suffering so you can avoid worse suffering down the line" crowd.
5) The "God is good, and God is all knowing, He just isn't all powerful" crowd.
6) The "Suffering is allowed so that through it God may be glorified" crowd.
7) The "Prayer is not for God anyway, it is for me...God already knows what we want - and need" crowd.
8) The "Because there the bad stuff exists in the world, there can not be a God" crowd.
9) The "The bad stuff comes from the Satan, who is prince of this world." crowd.
10) The "I don't know but let's not talk about this because it may cause some suffering" crowd.

(Forgive me if I left out a crowd.)

Now by no means do I mean any disrespect by calling people crowds...I have been and am a member of several of those crowds myself. I'd like to talk more about it in another post.

For now, I will keep praying and I will marvel at my little girls prayers. Her faith "like a child" is certainly beautiful.

I Hate Hospitals

2009-08-30T19:16:00.000-06:00

For those who read this and know Dora Diane...no, she did not have to go to the hospital. No one in my family has been in a hospital in a very long time.

But through the flow of life, I have spent quite a bit of time in hospitals. I have been in really fancy hospital rooms, with guest beds, a couch, many chairs...the rooms they reserve for the families of people who are dying. I have served my time sitting in ICU. I have held hands with the most precious people in my life in small private rooms...and watched as they "coded." I watched the 2000 summer Olympics in a hospital room with my wife going through pre-term labor. I kept watch over my 2 week old only natural child in a hospital room, grabbing 2 hours of sleep here and there, waking to the sound of alarms on monitors, medication, IVs, nurses and more nurses. I've held the line with my good friend, waiting for the surgical outcome for his toddler son.

I've followed the maps of the halls; ridden the elevators, purchased and eaten the food...and there is nothing like hospital cafeterias...to their credit, they actually do a good job, most of them.

I've listened to doctors who cared, who were honest, who were concerned. I've listened to doctors who were an embarrassment to their profession.

I've spent my share of time in hospitals...and I hate them all.

Except...

People are honest in hospitals. Transparency is expected and accepted; a nod of familiarity among people who are staring into their own personal abyss. It's okay to cry in hospitals. It's okay to walk down the halls with tears on your face and Kleenex to your nose...in fact, there is honor in it. Everywhere else, we must wear the mask. "I'm okay, I'm tough, I'm in control of my emotions." But in the hospital, you aren't expected to be "in control."

I like that. I appreciate the acceptance. I tend to be transparent anyway, so...well, guys might cry once every two years...so it's nice to be in a place where you have permission.

I hate hospitals...but I know I'll be back. And I'll be honest...because I won't have a choice.

The End of Innocence

2009-08-12T20:00:00.000-06:00

My wife and I have been giving this some thought lately: the "birds and the bees" talk with our little one. I have never been one to be fearful of WHAT I say in that respect. I've learned to be pretty tactful over the years. What my primitive brain warns me about is that after the talk...she will not be the same. She'll know the BIG secret. I know that she learns about life every day and I have not yet found her to be shattered or markedly changed by anything she has yet discovered. Learning how babies are made will not be that different...though we are never quite the same once we learn that are we?

Dear Dora Diane,

Today, I write this too you as the innocent child who still believes that all babies somehow get placed in mommy's tummy because a mommy and a daddy pray real hard. You know that Daddy's have a role and that little sperms find the little egg and that that is the beginning of a baby. What you don't know we will have to share with you soon because, though I don't wish to be the one to shatter your innocence...it is my job to ensure that you hear the truth from me first.

It is ironic we have already had a "bad word" talk. I didn't tell you about some of them because, though my father did a wonderful and gentle job of telling me about the birds and the bees, he told me at the same time as he taught me what the "f" word means. I think that colored my perception of what the Bible teaches is one of God's greatest gifts to humans: The union of man and woman.

So. We will have our talk about Mommy's and Daddy's and closeness. About how it is the ultimate gift from one to the other. About how it is reserved for marriage. About how it is more than just a physical act...how it involves the spirit as well. And I will emphasize the points with gentle seriousness, hoping to make a lasting impression; because the pillars I am working to help you build, the world will very soon work to tear down.

From the world you will learn, for example; that your sexuality is for you to enjoy and share as you please. That reserving sex for marriage is an outdated concept and that actually, you and your boyfriends must learn if you are sexually compatible in the first place, before you get married. That it is just a physical act, that you can engage in it casually with no lasting effects. That everybody is doing it, and that you are uncool, or prude, or scared, or rude if you don't.

Yes. I am conservative in my beliefs, especially in this area. I am also an idealist...I have to be when I face the statistics that say you only have a 25% chance of taking purity into your marriage bed. (And less than that if we are praying for a husband for you who does the same.)

We have two more weeks until you start 3rd grade. From what I remember about third grade, I think it is time for you to know a bit more than you already do. Now it's just a matter of finding a time to talk to you...maybe in between your playing "talk animals" and watching re-runs of Mr. Rogers Neighborhood.

Love,

Daddy

"There's paint on your foot!"

2009-07-20T15:59:00.000-06:00

We have been painting my daughters room for the past week or so. The first time was pretty easy since we were slapping pink paint on a white wall...Now, we are slapping light blue paint on a dark pink wall. That means that I have now actually painted her walls 3 times each (so far), plus the ceiling.

I would never do that for our own room. We haven't even thought of it. But since it is my little ones...hey, we are willing to spend the time and effort.

I have noticed that I am not one of those who likes to share tasks. I kind of want it done my way and would rather do it all myself. Ask my daughter if that is the way she likes to do things. NO. She feels that we should all be in there together, the three of us, painting. I love having her there...but she tends to get paint places that I do not want paint.

I have been really good for the most part...only barking at her a couple of times...but still. I recognize that actually, SHE is right, and I am wrong (of course). We are painting our child's room. OF COURSE it should be a family affair. OF COURSE we should be doing it together, and OF COURSE we should get paint in our hair, on our hands and feet, etc. That's what makes it memorable, that's what makes us family.

I once heard a speaker note that he looked forward to the problems encountered on a family vacation almost as much as the vacation itself. We are crisis driven people who would get bored without the flat tires, the lost room keys, the blisters, etc. Not to mention, those difficulties force the family to work together...and reveal the hidden strengths within each member.

My daughter has the gift of mercy (unless I've told her "no" or otherwise upset her...then, she's ruthless). Every drip, every mis-step and I can be sure she will chime in giving me an excuse ("Well, you didn't mean to daddy. Every body drops their paint brush sometimes.")

My wife on the other hand just grins and remembers all my warnings to her and my daughter to "Be careful, or else you'll get paint on that."

And by the way, the paint was on MY foot.

"Who Gets Me?"

2009-06-30T11:01:00.000-06:00

Yesterday my little one asked a lot of questions about who would "get" her if her Mommy and Daddy were to get a divorce.

What kind of a world...

I HATE that a child has to even THINK this thought...much less know anyone who has had to deal with this tragic occurrence in their life. Much less, MY child. I want to protect her from all of these things. And to think that MY life has led to some of her questions? Well that's just sick.

Talking with her revealed that she is not overwhelmed with the thought...just morbidly curious. Oh course we all do that on occasion:

"What would happen if I lose my job?"

"What would happen if I lost my house?"

"What would happen if I lost my spouse?"

"What would happen if I got a disease?"

"What if I lose my sense of sight?"

"What if they made a blockbuster movie about ROM Spaceknight and my whole series of ROM comics sold for $5,000,000?"

I try to throw a little wishful thinking in with my morbid curiosity from time to time...

(Yup...I have ALL of them...in little plastic bags...in a box in my closet...(oh no, I'm still a geek!))

Anyway. I think her Mom and I did a pretty good job of helping her understand that we would not do that to her...AND...that there are plenty of people to care for her (Big Brother, Auntie Hill, Auntie LaLa, Auntie BoBo....etc....)

Besides, she used her fears to reassure herself that Mommy and Daddy would indeed fight over her (and she demonstrated for us by having us act this out by playing tug of war with her arms.)

So, until her next bout of morbid curiosity...

Why Can't I Fly?

2009-06-25T15:16:00.000-06:00

Sitting here preparing to blog, I experienced one of those sudden dream memories. Two nights ago I had a semi-lucid dream in which I was walking somewhere and thought to myself, "I wonder if I can fly in this dream." Low and behold, I spread out my arms and willed myself off of the ground and into the air. Though I wasn't streamlined darting through the skies like Superman, I was certainly high enough to land on buildings and such. I even grabbed my wife by the hand and flew her up to a building with me. It was a really great feeling...a great dream.

So, why can't I dream like that every night? Why do most of my dreams involve random silly things like driving around (at night...all of my dreams seem to involve night-time) looking for a store or wandering through the halls in a school looking for the classroom in which I am supposed to teach? And then there are the worst of the worst, the apparent dreams were I am trying to count to a high number....Really?....That's the best my mind can come up with, counting? How disappointing.

I've studied lucid dreaming or "gaining conscious awareness while in a dream." It takes practice for most, comes naturally for a few. I don't practice....and I don't follow "good sleep hygiene" which means, among other things that I don't sleep 8 hours a night, and I don't go to sleep at the same time each evening. Perhaps that has something to do with the lack of frequency in my lucid dreaming.

Come to think of it, I haven't been flying much at all lately, asleep or awake. (I believe the two are related as well...when feeling burdened by life or self...it is probably difficult to dream about being light, carefree, and soaring like an eagle.)

Along with a host of other issues and burdens I imagine for myself, a main culprit is a lack of "lucid living." Lucid literally means "easily understood, intelligible." That works well for the term "lucid dreaming" as in understanding your dream while you are dreaming and thus, being able to take control. I am learning that, for me, it is easier to be lucid while dreaming, than it is to be lucid when awake. I expect my dreams to be ridiculous and often apparently meaningless. When they start to take on intelligible shape...I wake up and take notice. My life? Well that I expect, and even demand to have intelligible and occasionally easily understood meaning. When it does not, I feel as grounded as

When I looked it up, I was reminded that there is another meaning to the word lucid:

"Mentally sound; sane or rational."

Yup. That fits me to a tee right now. I have been walking around in the doldrums as if the reality I perceive is the reality in which I actually live. That's.....schizophrenia...or at least the illusory world of depression and anxiety.

I was venting to my wife the other night that my frustration with myself has rarely been higher since...things in my life are actually quite good right now. Health, spouse, child, job(s), vacation....all peaches. So what the heck do I suppose is wrong with me?

If God were like my earthly dad, I'd be hearing a heavenly "I'll GIVE you something to gripe about!" right about now...fortunately, I am pretty much finished with the old Pity Party. (It was certainly a nice one though... complete with popped balloons, dark brooding colors, wasted time, and oh the irritability!")

I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I (and don't forget ME!)

We're engaged in an excellent study in Sunday school right now about spiritual gifts/strengths. I was struck this morning ONE, that I pretty well figured mine out and TWO, that unless used for service, the gifts lead to total brokenness. For example, for those of us who have a gift of sensitivity (Read with an Eddie Murphy lisp as in: "He's so sensitive.."), when used for service it becomes a tool to identify and build up those who are emotionally broken. When used for self...you guessed it...it leads to self-pity, hurt feelings, and isolation.

I was not designed to be this -

I was designed to be a part of this -- Thank God for His provision for the numerous back-ups needed when I decide to go it alone for awhile!

No wonder I feel useless while serving self....I am.

Lucid living...get plenty of rest, pray, eat right, bad stuff in moderation, spend time with my child, love my wife, and open my arms...

"Daddy Cried"

2009-06-16T16:14:00.000-06:00

Quite a bit has happened here in this small town since my last entry. Not much of it is really important enough to blog about...but it has been a busy beginning to the summer. I am well into my "summer funk" which lets me know that if/when I retire, my wife will have to kill me to put me out of her misery. You would think that I would be happy that I don't have to work at my teaching job during the summer, but no. Although I am still teaching online, and still see people in the afternoons, I get mildly "depressed." Maybe it's boredom, maybe it's lack of "doing important stuff," maybe it is my genetic link to my father, probably it is a mixture of all of those and more. I know it's not pleasant to me, or my wife. Fortunately, I am a "professional" and know how to fake it.

Unrelated...or maybe slightly related, I turned 42 last Friday. As my wife informed me, I am very easy to buy for but very difficult to celebrate for...as, I like to make my birthday kind of a "week long national holiday, treat me super special" time. She is really good at it however, and I recieved some royal treatment leading up to my special day. My sister arrived a day before and had arranged to have live Maine lobster's shipped to our home. I don't think I have every had a 2 lb. lobster...until last Friday. It was awesome!

Then my daughter got into the act and, without knowing it, made my 42nd birthday more special and more important than any other. She gave me a card. Actually she gave me three cards. She loves the cards that play songs when you open them and so she had been collecting them for quite some time to give to me.

One of those cards, happened to be a father's day card she decided to give me for my birthday, was one which allows you to record your own message prior to the music playing...(have you put this all together yet?) Well, she recorded a message for me. She did it all by herself, worked really hard to get it just right. I had no idea and so, when I opened it and heard her voice, I cried. Not that little crying which you can hide; not the couple of tears sliding down my face cry but a real live total loss of composure. She has never seen me cry before. That's probably not a great thing to admit, but it is the truth. I am as guilty as many other men of hiding that range of my emotional expression.

She probably had no idea what was going on for a short time, then I remember someone telling her that she had just made her Daddy VERY happy and she understood that these were happy tears. Well then she climbed on my lap and held me very tight...which of course touched me even more so I had quite a little cry with my daughter (who by now was crying too).

I was assured after the fact by my sister that Dora Diane would forever remember that day as a wonderful day when she deeply touched her father's heart. Indeed, she has been quite close to me since that time, even more so than usual...and we are pretty close.

I'm glad she got to see that. I tell her I love her all the time. I show her I love her too, but tears like that say "You're awesome and I love you!" in a very powerful way. I knew it would eventually happen...like when she graduates, when she gets married, has a child....oh man, my macho eyes are going to be red.

Earning My Stripes

2009-05-29T08:30:00.000-06:00

Sometimes loving someone does not take much effort, it simply flows from the deepest place in our soul, effortlessly enfolding it's object with tenderness, good will, and joy. When my wife is smiling, talking, and marveling at my insights and sense of humor (not to mention my strength), all the while watching Star Trek TNG with me, it is no heroic task to "love" her.

When she reminds me I havn't fixed the bathroom, the trash is piling up in the laundry room, and that I'm wasting too much time on video games...that's when I earn my stripes in this love battle.

The same is true for my daughter -- though I have only begun to appreciate this reality. My love for her is so complete at times, it causes my heart to swell. At others, I suddenly find myself wondering just what I've done wrong -- as if I have somehow broken her and created a difficult to like monster.

When she is stubborn, I find myself frustrated with her willfulness.

When she is sullen, I find myself angry with her selfishness.

When she complains, I want to tell her what she is taking for granted.

When she pouts, I want to withdraw (and I do), but it claws at me.

It is during those times and others that this Daddy earns his stripes. It is then that I have opportunity to really understand who she is, the chance to teach and mold her, the responsibility to correct her.

This weekend at Scarborough Faire was one example -- we arrived and were all ready to start the day when our little princess became little gloomy Gretchen (Guss's sister). Immediately I was ticked! Here we were, spending all this money, traveling all this way, ready to have fun, yadda yadda yadda, and she's going to start complaining and stop smiling?!

I exercised supreme patience for some time and finally pulled her aside and sounded REALLY intelligent..."Dora, we can leave here right now if you don't change your attitude." She looked at me with honest eyes and said something truly intelligent and insightful:

"Daddy, I'm okay, I promise...I'm just not used to all these people."

And that's when Mr. Psychology realized what I should have realized before it started, she was nervous, just like her Daddy gets when he is around large groups, or even small groups of people. Her behavior was symptomatic, not characterological. What a joy and priviledge to gain that insight in that moment. I immediately understood her mood change -- and could be who she needed me to be for her.

I recognize my difficulty to "love" those I LOVE spawns from my taking their "misbehavior" personally. My wife comments on the bathroom being unfinished and I experience an unintentional blow to the gut which says "Can't you do anything around here?" My daughter pouts and whines when I think she should be happy and I experinece an unintentional slap to the face which says "You failed to make me a happy, optimistic child."

It's hard to love someone while you feel the need to defend yourself from them. But it's all an illusion. Social psychologists call it the Fundamental Attribution Error: When someone is rude to us, we tend to attribute it to a character flaw rather than a passing situational circumstance. Thinking "He's a real ....jerk..." when someone cuts us off rather than, "Wonder why he's in such a hurry." for example.

I know my wife's character. I know my daughter's heart and soul. Why does my brain so easily assume these qualities that are imbedded within them are transient when I know full well that, when I'm having a bad day, I'm going to get over it and go back to being my lovable old self? I afford myself unconditional love and acceptance, why is it so difficult to offer it to those I love?

Selfish, self-serving interest...imagining my stake in their behavior and feeling the need to change it for myself leads to anger and resentment and thus, defensive posturing on my part.

Loving concern for their own wellbeing leads to something else however. When I see my daughter misbehaving and can remove thoughts of it being a reflection on me, then I remain open to her. I have no resentment, only compassionate concern for her current and future wellbeing.

Again and again and again life hands me my hat and reminds me that it's NOT about me. God help me to take myself out of the equation and be there to serve, and not be served.

And thank you God for not taking my sins personally.

Unconditional love - awesome. How freeing to know that when God looks at me, he sees me as I see my daughter: full of potential, a jewel, an "Heir to the throne." In my finer moments as a father, I look at my daughter when she stumbles into a whine or a pout and think (or say) "Honey, you don't need to ruin your time with that...let's think about something happy and good."

I want her to find peace. I want her to soar and experience all that her life has to offer. I want to give her everything I can to make that happen...and I hurt for her when, because of inexperience or lack of understanding, she falters...and I hold on tighter, letting her know I'm there, and I love her, and I believe in her.

In those moments, I get a glimps into where God's mind is all the time. If THAT's how He sees us - If that's how He loves us, what else do we want? What else do we need? The God of the universe doesn't take our sins personally...He knows where they come from, and He knows what we need to correct them, and He died to free us from the ultimate consequences. He suffered the true stripes, so I wouldn't have to.

"Wait, my bear..."

2009-05-18T18:00:00.000-06:00

I don't know if it was because it was 2:30am this morning when my daughter called for me to come get her and bring her into bed with us, but at the time, I thought this would make a good blog topic....if nothing else to share with her later.

So, I'm lifting her out of bed to carry her to our room when she says "Wait, my bear..." Setting her back on her bed she looked around and plunged her hand through a hill of stuffed animals and pulled out a little stuffed "Webkin" elephant. Happy as a clam (I guess there is research to suggest that the molusks are particularly resistant to depression), she held tight as I moved through the hall. By the time we made it to our room, I think she was nearly asleep again. (Makes it sound like our house is huge doesn't it...I'll let your imagination run).

I guess my question is, "Who needed whom?" Did she worry that the webkin would feel lonely or did she feel connected and in need of the webkin? Now, though Dora has a special love for her stuffed animals, she does not have one in particular which she always carries around. It just seems to be on a whim; sometimes it's Tiger (my favorite), and sometimes it's someone else.

To me, the beauty is in her innocence. She was in the arms of her father, going to sleep with her mother and father, safely in their room....and she remembered her "bear." That is one of those "make you smile" moments when I just felt awe at the gift of this child."

Another which I've seen a couple of times recently is the "can you keep a secret" whisper which children use when sharing surprises with adults. An example, we have a new portable DVD player (that's 3 in 8 years...longevity is not their strong point...but boy are they awesome on trips). It is an RCA so it has the RCA dogs on the front as the start up picture. Dora liked that almost more than the player itself and, when she saw her Auntie Bobo, she shared her new player with her and then: "It's new, and when you turn it on..." (she cups her hand to the side of her mouth in secret telling style and lowers her voice to a whisper) "it has dogs on it." I love that! The adult implication is "Don't tell anyone, but listen to this!" Such juicy gossip! But it's not a secret...just special information that she was sharing just with her Auntie Bobo.

I have a million of those "I wish she could stay this way forever's." that I could record in Daddyspeak.

(Writer cups hand to mouth and lowers voice to a whisper)

I hope you don't mind.

Daddy's Girl - Part 1

2009-05-12T13:00:00.000-06:00

Dear Dora Diane,

What a gift you are! Every day you say and do things I can only begin to try to put into words. For example, the book that you wrote and illustrated for Mommy and me about how "Parent's Rock." I'll have to try to scan that into the computer. Or the shirts you very carefully planned for us to make with iron-on letters. One, in blue, says "Daddy's Girl". The other, in black, says "Mommy's Girl".

So true. You belong to both of us and our hearts belong to you. What a joy it is to see you so proud, and so innocent in your pride and joy at being loved by, and loving your parents.

That makes it all the more difficult when that innocence is dashed by the reality that some men have failed to overcome their selfishness. These are the men who have failed miserably to create a loving atmosphere in the home. Sometimes these men fail to even hang around so that their children know that they are loved. This is why that girl in your class made fun of your "Daddy's Girl" shirt. I am sure that she would love to be "Daddy's Girl" and to see that you are was painful for her. She hurt and felt jealous so she lashed out at you (people in Daddy's business call this displacement).

As angry as I get at those children for hurting you...I try not to be unrealistic and blind to where the blame really should fall. Failed fathers - or sperm doners for a graphic label. They come in all shapes and sizes. Some are married, some are out for a good time, others are afraid, and still others are simply evil in the depth of their self-centeredness. But why are they like this. Why are fathers failing so miserably? The reasons are numerous, but I like to simplify it down and call it the mashmallow syndrome.

These are the marshmallow inside, cookie crust outside guys. They feel whimpy and soft inside becuase they have never discovered their strength...probably no one has ever told them they have strength, or that they should be proud of their accomplishments, whatever they are. These men decide early that, rather than face life as a marshmellow, being picked on themselves for what they believe is their deep weakness, they begin early to build a tough external layer (the cookie crust). Sometimes it is thick, sometimes thin, but always it is false. Often it is made up of exactly what these men lack in their core: confidence, verility, or strength. Always, the cookie version is brittle, and might break if attacked. Thus, these men spend a lifetime building and protecting their tough exterior until they forget about their marshmallow inside....until they fear it will be exposed. Exposure of the inside leaves these men feeling oozy and sticky...all the things many men fear and refuse to face.

Exposure is threatened by all sorts of things: criticism (real or imagined), failure (real or imagined), and strangest of all, love. The love of a good woman threatens to expose this tough exterior for what it is...a very false and very fragile front. However, rather than give in and reveal that they are gooey and sticky inside, and attempt to change. These men often choose to hide behind additional layers of cookie crust, or run; leaving behind the people who didn't understand that these were just cookie men, with a marshmallow center.

Why do I tell you this? Why do you have to understand about cookie men?

Because you will meet the offspring of cookie men. In their own attempt to cover their vulnerable marshmallow center, they will be building a cookie crust. You are a target for them as you have no crust. You have no need for a false front as you have been taught that you are lovable and acceptable just the way you are. Your innocense and transparency allows you to be a real person: clumsy sometimes, silly sometimes, sad, scared, and joyful. You are not afraid to fail as you have been taught that failure is ok, and natural, and important. All of that is true, yet for marshmellows, it is horrific. A marshmallow boy or girl can't tolerate failure. In themselves they cover it up, in others, they pounce on it; tearing it down in an attempt to build up their cookie crust.

The offspring of cookie-men hate you just as a starving person hates the one who has plenty to eat. Some will wait for you to fail in some area and then pounce with glee. Others will try to make it happen, so they can then pounce and kick you while you are down. They may not be able to take what you have, but they will work to ridicule you and tear you down enough so that they can imagine you don't have it anymore either.

You may even fall for a cookie man one day. Your loving nature and willingness to make excuses for everyone warns me that when one of these pitiful cookie men comes along, you will see right through to the marshmallow and figure you can help them...love them enough to help them become whole and shed their crust.

I have very bad and very serious news for you. You must listen to me and understand that I am telling you the truth; that I am right. Your whole future, and that of your children centers on your understanding and accepting this very bad news. Here it is...and you're not going to like it:

You can't.

"Be afraid, be very afraid."

2009-05-01T09:28:00.000-06:00

I had to look up the original use of the phrase. Not only was it from The Fly, but it was said in response to another character saying, "Don't be afriad."

If I didn't know better, I would think there was a vast conspiracy to make the population of the US, and the world utterly terrified of everything. If there should be a national motto right now, I think it should be that one.

AMERICA -- BE AFRAID, BE VERY AFRAID

Terrorists, might strike. The economy might collapse. We might lose our jobs. We might lose our savings. We might get the swine flu. We might ALL get the swine flu. There isn't enough money. There aren't enough bullets. There aren't enough hospital rooms. Our children might be abducted. Muslims are taking over. Christians are taking over. It's getting hotter on the earth. It's getting colder on the earth. The sun is too quite. An asteroid might hit us. Earthquakes, floods, volcanoes, war, famine, pestilence, pandemics.................................

I think I'd stay home...if I wasn't afraid of losing it.

Doesn't it all seem just a bit too convienient? Doesn't it seem a bit "wrong?" Is that what we are here for...to live life as a 70 to 80 year dash to the finish...desperately hoping nothing takes us out too early. No. That's not why we are here. But it IS just one more way to rob us of our time and our peace.

"...because those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory." Romans 8:14-17

America used to have a motto which understood this. "In God we trust."

I'm sick of the spirit of fear which has gripped America for so long.

And I'm SO sick of being personally afraid. I'm not going to be afraid anymore. Cautious, concerned, and careful...but no more fear.

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Psalm 23:4

I wonder if that means things will be racheted up a little more.

I'm with my good friend who is facing many more reasons to be afraid right now than I:

"Bring it."

Where oh death is your sting, where oh death is your victory.

My hope rests in eternity. I know my family will be there and I know I will as well. I will hold to that with every ounce of my being and I will live a life which glorifies the One who decided to give me life. I have nothing to lose, and eternity to gain.

Tying this in to Daddyspeak...being a daddy has done this for me. I used to be rather fatalistic and uncaring about living or dying...until I had a child. Now, the main source of my fear is not what happens to me for me, but for her. "What if she dies is replaced by what if I die and she loses her father or mother", and on and on and on and on and on and on.

Letting God's spirit move in me though has helped me see that "I DON'T HAVE ANY CONTROL OVER ANY OF THAT AT ALL!!!!." Worry does not equal control, it is the semblance of control. I can not allow myself to fear anymore. Ironically, it will kill me faster than some of the things I worry about.

"For you did not receive a spirit of fear but of sonship."

The swine flu can't kill a son or daughter of God....only release us to be with Him.

Joy

2009-04-29T11:34:00.000-06:00

My dog died last night.

That makes me feel yuk. Seeing her lying on the ground and "knowing" in the way the subconscious mind instantly knows things, but calling her name anyway and then consciously knowing gave me that sinking feeling in my gut. That makes me feel yuk too.

She's been dying for a long time. I knew that so I have tried to make her more comfortable. There was the medication for her joint pain, and the daily expensive soft dog food for her. I didn't take her to the vet when she lost her eyesight in one eye because actually, for the past 6 months she has been obviously feeling much better than she did for at least a year prior. She even wagged her tail when she knew I was there.

Joy was my dog and I was her person. I have a couple of stories which demonstrate that more than ever....

When we lived out in the country, I let Joy run free. I know; not supposed to do that but, she was fixed, and our distant neighbors didn't seem to care. When I say free...I mean, she went wherever she wanted and did whatever she wanted and killed whatever she wanted. The time I am thinking of, she found a den of skunks and not only killed the adult, but killed all five of the babies. I know this because she very proudly brought them to the house to show me her handy work. They were layed out in a straight line near the porch when I found them...Joy lay nearby, panting and wagging her tail.

"Good girl."

Living in the city limited her freedom to a certain extent, but we are blessed to have a pretty large back yard. One night, the neighbor hunting dogs tunnled under the fence and came into our yard. There was some growling which brought me outside. Lance, Joy's adopted child was there wagging his tail and Joy was no where to be seen. I was a little wary of these strange dogs and stood there not quite knowing what to do when the oldest looking one growled at me. My little medium sized Joy shot out of her dog house and went straight for the older dogs throat. She was protecting her human. I've never had an animal do that for me before, nor will I ever probably again.

"Good girl."

Death of someone, or something I love brings up guilt feelings in me. "I should have..." or "I could have..." I asked my class today to write their legacy, how they wish to be remembered when they die. While I was waiting for them to finish, I was suddenly touched with Joy's answer:

"I want him to remember that I belonged to him, that I was happy, and that I loved him."

"Good girl...and thank you."

Gutter Races

2009-04-27T11:25:00.000-06:00

Lo and behold it rained here in the desert yesterday. My daughter and I were alone for the afternoon and she delighted in playing outdoors, generally making a mess on the back porch. I stayed inside doing something I thought was pretty important at the time.

While taking the dog out front I realized that we had a mini flood moving down our gutter...just enough to splash your feet in. An immediate conversation in my mind went something like this:

"Glad she isn't seeing this...she'd want to come out here and play."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Well, I'd have to play with her and I have very important things to do."

"Like what?"

Thank goodness my "god-father" side wins out over the "selfish-father" side.

All I had to do was remind her of our previous rains and she was out the door like a shot with a toy in hand to toss in the water and watch it rush down the street. I used the match I was going to light the grill with (for the steak dinner I was soon to make). We had a great time racing flower's, leaves, and tiny sticks down the street. She was in heaven splashing bare-footed in the water.

The good/bad thing about the gutter races is they are over as soon as the run-off from the streets above runs out...which it soon did. After our last race, as we walked back up to the house, she skipped along and joyfully announced, "That was fun Daddy!" She also gave her mother a detailed report of our gutter races, and how she used this and I used that, and she won this and I won that that evening.

God, please KILL my selfish-father side. It threatens to rob my daughter of so many opportunities for joy and learning....not only that, it threatens to rob me of the awesome reward of a happy, healthy, loving daughter (selfishness betrays itself by limiting one's life rather than adding to it).

I think the next time it rains, I'll race her out the door...barefeet and all.

(I note that she had nothing to report to her mother about the cartoons we watched, nor the video game we played earlier that day....hmmmm. Could it be that those are not really important nor memorable to her?!)

"Aragorn"

2009-04-15T14:32:00.000-06:00

With appologies to Tolkin, Lucas, and Le Guin, I have been constructing quite an elaborate fairy tale for my daughter each morning on the way to school. My daughter has taken to simply saying "Aragorn!" and I am expected to weave away. Some mornings, though I'm "not allowed, I would rather listen to the radio...but other mornings, what joy to hear her laugh when I make up something funny, or even to have her participate in the story making.

I found a recent extra benefit to this routine. My daughter is not perfect in her appearance like some of the turds in her second grade class think she should be and they, in their magnanomous benificence shared with her that has xxx and yyy. After being made aware, she experienced the usual response of staring at herself in the mirror, wishing xxx and yyy would go away. And then she faked sick for 3 days in a row (we made her go to school anyway).

[An aside: If you are an idiot parent who doesn't have the compassion to teach your child at a very young age not to make fun of other people...I hope you enjoy it when you child grows to be an adolescent and makes fun of you, among others. Have fun with that.]

I realized I had a perfect opportunity to teach a lesson without directly personalizing it and drawing up her defences so I wove a story about how the young daughter of Aragorn, Chastity (yeah, Sonny and Cher) had a very tiny nose, and a large birth mark on her face. She too was made fun of and after threatening to throw the bullies in the dungeon (which she made me say several times), her mother (Joy -- named after our dog) taught her how to deal with those kind of people.

I felt especially proud that day. And especially grateful to other's more creative than I who wove the stories I use to weave mine. But most of all, I'm grateful to Dora Diane, for reminding me how very important it is to tell stories and laugh in the morning.

I wonder if she's too young for me to work in the horrible death of Chastity's boyfriend brought about by his attempt to kiss her...

The Cross, The Tomb, and Candy Eggs

2009-04-13T14:12:00.000-06:00

40 is a wonderful age. I recommend it to everyone who has not yet been here. For me, strange and wonderful things began to happen at 40. For one, I appreciate life more than perhaps ever before. This is a drag, but also an inspiration as, I am in good physical shape as well as better emotional shape than I have ever been. I realize things that I knew, but never really grasped before. Insights abound nearly every day. I think it is a great time for the mind as it develops wisdom...slowly but surely.

This past week for example, Holy Week leading up to Easter. I found myself approaching Easter in an entirely different way than ever before. Perhaps it was our new preacher and his sermon the Sunday prior. Perhaps it was wisdom. Or perhaps, it was the fact that Dora Diane was ready to learn more about the death and resurrection of Christ. Either way, I worked to take it seriously. We even watched The Passion on Friday night (just my wife and I). It was really rewarding, though very difficult to watch. Somehow Jesus is more real to me these days...something I have probably prayed for to the extent that it is now being answered. Anyway, it is helpful for me to imagine Christ himself walking with me through the low places, as well as the high ones.

I'm pretty sure that Dora didn't gather the full meaning of what Christ did for her...but I do know she understands that the easter bunny does not give meaning to Easter. Part of me marvels that we Christians celebrate the cruel and painful death of an innocent man. I know, I know, we celebrate his resurrection....but really, partially, we celebrate his death. Watching the Passion, I realized how primitive this all is. We humans try so hard to be civilized...but we're not. If Christ was alive today, He would not have to worry about our "civilized" society failing to put him to death. We'd find a way. Maybe he would be beheaded by Muslims. Maybe he would be placed in a mental institution. Probably he wouldn't even set foot in America...to much bad press. I'll bet he'd appear in a little backwater town in an occupied land...I hope not Afganistan or Iraq...but that would be just like Him. (No, I'm not comparing the US to the Romans.)

"I know it's all part of God's plan."

2009-04-03T09:50:00.000-06:00

I've been doing a lot of thinking about "God's Will" recently. I like to try to figure things out. After all, God gave me a brain and I like to pretend to use it every now and then.

I attend a baptist church in a small town. That is a bit different than saying that "I am a baptist" but still, close enough for most. Baptists, if one didn't know are rather conservative. That is to say, when my old pastor came upon me in the local grocery store with a 30 pack of bud light under the basket...well, he was nice...but I don't think I ever lived that down in his mind. Good baptists don't drink, smoke, dance or gamble. (Well, one out of four aint bad!) (Brings up the old joke about the guy who says he's a old time baptist, pats his shirt pocket and say's "Sh**, I'll bet you a hundred dollars I left my cigaretts at the bar in the dance hall!"

Anyway. Some Baptists also deal with tragedy in a way which is difficult for me to swallow. When bad things happen, they first ask themselves if there is any "unconfessed sin" in their life. I don't. Remember, I just attend a baptist church and keep my amazement to myself. If anything causes me to tumble down the hill over my faith however it is that belief, as well as this one: Someone dies, gets shot, loses a child to an illness, whatever and their self-soothing is, "I know this is God's will." or "I know this is all part of His plan for me."

I've worked really, really hard on that and two things come to mind:

1) If I am a competent enough father to find ways to teach my daughter things she needs to know without kicking her in the literal or figurative gut...I believe God can do the same.

My plan for Dora is that she never get electrocuted. I'm not going to cause her to lose her hands so she never has an opportunity to stick them in the light socket. Now, if she does step outside of my plan and sticks something in the light socket and I'm not around to help, she will suffer. That's NOT my plan for her; in fact it is way outside of my plan for her. So there she is, lying on the floor unconscious, her hand black from an electrical burn. I would immediately swoop her up in my arms and rush her to the hospital. I would do everything in my power to help her overcome and live on despite her bad choice. Thus, I would continue to work out my plan for her, despite the obstacle she thrust in my way. Perhaps her bad experience would be useful to her in the future. But it was not in my plan...and I didn't cause it to happen...and I didn't NEED for an accident to occur to get her attention. I'm competent enough to find other ways to reach her.

I know enough about God's will to starve an ant, but the above reflection on my own imperfect fathering leads me to assert that God is not a bumbling uncle who watches me trip down the stairs and then says, "I saw that coming 'and allowed it to happen' becuase I decided you needed to learn a lesson about stairs." Rather, I think He is there with me, at the bottom, weeping and hurting with me, while He begins to work out His will for me, now that I have a broken leg. (He "taught" me all about stairs back when I was a very young child and experienced gravity for the first time. The brain He designed learns from those early mistakes and is supposed to remind me to be careful.)

2) Consider the following:

"Josef F., 73, admitted that he locked his daughter, who was 18 at the time, in the cellar, that he repeatedly had sex with her, and that he is the father of her seven children." He kept her a total prisoner for 24 years. She never saw the light of day.

This was discovered 6 months ago and the guy is soon to be sentenced. Of course the girl and her seven children are all in a mental institution. If THAT was the 'will of God for her life, and the lives of her seven children;" if THAT was God's plan for them...well, just imagine what that would mean about God.

What does it mean about God if the plane crash victim whose life was saved and says, "I guess it was just God's will that I live."? Does that mean it was God's will that the rest died? I humbly suggest "no." God's will for all of us is that we "have life and have it abundantly." Anything which limits or hinders abundant life is outside of God's will. Human error or Evil which entered the world to create chaos, disease, and death is the culprit I choose to blame.

What gives me hope is that God is all powerful and able to use "All things for the good of those who seek and fear him." He has a perfect plan and is not ultimately thwarted by evil. I remember playing with ant beds in my youth and thowing obstacles in the ants way just to see what they did. Over and over, their initial will was challenged but they would always find a work around.

So what do I say to people when they are the recipients of one of these "obstacles?" The first thing is "I'm sorry you have to endure this." The last thing I would say (and if I got to it on the list I would cross it off and not say it) would be "God's will is hard and mysterious." To me, at this time in my spiritual growth, that's just ignorant and mean.

I know God has a plan, and I know He is bigger than any tragedy which should randomly fall on me or my family. I know He has a plan for my daughter, and I know that He will continue to work it out. And in the end, wherever she is on the journey, He will bring her home to Himself.

Sorry to any and all who disagree. I'm not a good baptist. But do want to be a good Christian. I do want to be in His plan and I don't want to have to figure out the "magic" formula to keep from getting a spiritual kick in the gut. I've never come across that passage in the bible. (Ok, ok. Someone is eventually going to read this and think about the verse which says "The Lord Chastens those He loves." and "God will not allow you to face more than you can bear." Let me work on those further and elaborate later.)

Cause She'll Be Gone

2009-04-01T12:01:00.000-06:00

One of my favorite songs is Dance With Cinderella. It is a beautiful and poinient challenge to take advantage of the time you have with your child because eventually, "She'll be gone." For most, this brings tears at the thought of her leaving home and living with someone else. Me too. But in my experience, it means more. It means that one day soon she may die.

My melancholy bluntness stems from recent events in the lives a people I care about. A dear, old friend faces his infant son's debilitating illness...and nothing seems to be working to heal him. Another acquantance at church lost their unborn child.

My wife and I have been through terrifying trials with our daughter...but not like that. Yet I can imagine the worst. My life experiences have taught me that she could be gone by this evening. I am helpless to stop that. Probably why we humans eventually seek solice in a "higher power." The Alcoholics Annonymous organization has it right...step 1: I admit I am powerless over my _________. I give control over to my higher power.

Fill in the blank.

But I don't want to be powerless! It's really not fair. If others get their time with their children, watch them grow up, have the luxary of time, why not I? Job said the same. Lost everything unfairly. And God's response...it blows me away.

"Who do you think you are to contemplate?" "Help me understand your great human wisdom which allows you to dictate fair versus unfair." Paraphrased, much of that seems to scream: "It's not about you Job." "There is a much bigger picture."

Could we be let in on the bigger picture then. If a child had to suffer, could we not see how it's all supposed to work out in the end. Just let me know who benefits, and how. What will I learn at the cost of this child's suffering. Worst of all...why do so many refuse to learn those lessons and repeat the same failings over and over again?

It doesn't make sense. But I should be used to that...there are a lot of things my mind doesn't wrap around. But I'm brooding. I don't have to suffer anything but the fear of those things. When I thought I was in the moment...I wasn't. Relief fell and all was right with the world.

It's not about me...but I am decieved to believe that it is. My child's suffering becomes my suffering...and I grieve because I hurt. "Why Me?"

Why not?

Dance now.

Just When You Think You've Lost Them

2009-03-17T13:08:00.000-06:00

Spring break was nice for us. Low on funds we spent most of the week at home. This allowed for many "Daddy and Dora" mornings. I am especially blessed with a job which, during certain times, allows me to stay home (summers and holidays mainly). My wife works in the mornings and I work in the afternoons. This is where Daddy and Dora morning or days began.

Being an only child, our daughter needs playmates and who better to play with her than her dear old dad. So it started one morning long ago (about 5 years ago actually) with my daughter asking me to play "talk animals" with her (that's another story altogether). This became routine and Dora began asking "Is today a Daddy and Dora day?"

Though they have evolved over time, we still have our Daddy and Dora mornings and sometimes days. (I even have the t-shirt.) Spring break allowed us 6 Daddy and Dora mornings (and one whole Daddy and Dora day.) It was nice to connect with the princess.

This morning, day two of our return to normal post holiday life and thus, our Tuesday trip to 2nd grade drop off, my daughter forwent (?) her usual request of "Aragorn" (o.k., that's another story too) and simply informed me, "I love to read" as she opened her Calvin and Hobbs anthology (well, it's mine really). Silence on the way to school.

I didn't like it. Is this what we will become, my own parents and I not speaking on the way to places? She'll do her thing and I'll have to sit here and try to think up something to say to pull her into a conversation. Gosh I hope not. I want her to talk to me. I want her to want to talk to me. I need the connection, and I know that she does too.

She was still reading as we neared her school when all of a sudden she said, "Aragorn!" I looked and she showed me she had once again finished off a rather large book. "We're at the school already!" I half kidded, and told her a small bit of the story we were working on (Aragorn and Chastity (Daddy and child). She figured out the riddle I posed (part of the story) and beamed at her cleverness. (me too) It was time to exit the car. Time to run into school. Time for our separation, a harder time for me I think than her...but today, just when I had been thinking I was losing her, she took several steps toward the door, turned, and ran back to the car for a quick kiss and an "I love you Daddy."

If she only knew.

A Quiet Lunch and a Close Call

2009-03-06T13:48:00.000-06:00

As I sit typing this, my princess is here in my office with me. It is the beginning of her spring break so they let the kids out of school early. We had a wonderful Daddy and Dora lunch at the cafeteria. I was able to listen to her uncensored questions and comments throughout our hour and fifteen minute lunch. It will most certainly be the highlight of my day...if not my week.

While she was speaking to me at one point I noticed an elderly woman approach an individual at a table and glanced over to where this was occuring, for some reason attempting to understand the meeting. Upon returning my eyes to my little one, she asked "Why were your eyes over there like that?" I explained the situation I had observed and she replied, "When I look at something, it means I'm listening to it." This comment threatened to fly by me until I replayed it in my mind with some Daddy translation: "I was talking to you Daddy and you stopped listening...why?" I can only guess the rest of the discussion might have included her confusion as to why I thought something else was more important than what she was saying to me. Fortunately, I caught it and let her know I was listening to her and was very interested in what she was saying, then repeated it to her so she knew I had heard. This satisfied her and she continued. Close call!

Close call? Why? I believe those moments are important. There is a comercial running on the radio currently which reminds "dads" that we will never know which moments will make the most impression on our children. The lean is toward the positive, but we all know the door swings both ways. They remember random negatives as well. So, I believe in those "small" moments and feel like I dodged a silent bullet. How many do we miss though? How many children take those blows in silence, only to incorporate them into their self-concept? I did. I still revisit a few innocent slights from my parents, and a few not so innocent. They didn't know, and they loved me, but I didn't understand all that in those moments. I took the blow and simply and quietly concluded it was personal.

Sometimes I think I am too liberal in my compassion for children. Sometimes I know I sound like a bleeding heart and I don't want to do so. But then I remember the greatest "bleeding heart" of all. He never faltered in his clear, compassionate love for his best friends, or to any He met. Jesus took his words, and his relationships very seriously. I think if he had had any children, he would have listened to them all the time. I think he would have marveled at the wonder in their eyes and teared up as he remembered or anticipated their saddness. I think he would have gone to bat for them at all costs, and valued them more than even his own life...

Yeah. Close call.

Her version of "Wash Me"

2009-03-03T13:24:00.001-06:00

Yesterday afternoon as we were preparing to go out, my princess, noting the layer of dirt on my bumper chose to write a message to me. "I love my Daddy". I guess I won't be washing for another several weeks.

Why is it I want to save everything she touches. I have scraps of paper she made a couple of marks on from 6 years ago. I guess that is the nature of "cherishing." I cherish everything she does. Or do I? Do I cherish her time, and how she spends that time? I have to honestly ask myself that question. The answer is not so attractive to me. I sometimes see in myself the dark selfishness which has plagued me since my youth. Sometimes I'd rather do this or that and not cherish her presense in my life.

How odd. How tragic. One day in the not to far distant future, she won't be a child anymore. I will so miss her (though I have noticed that, though I miss her 3s, I enjoyed her 4s, and though I miss them, I enjoyed her 5s.....and so on.)

I know that she cherishes her time with me. She reminds me every day, asking me to stay, having a hard time separating from me. It will not always be this way either. Some day soon she will choose to go out rather than stay with me. Some day she will choose to talk to a friend on the phone rather than stay with me.

What is wrong with me? I am lost in the trap of "my time." This is "my time" and if I give it away by spending it with you, it will be lost forever. How much of this Daddyspeak will be about things that happened during "my time?" 0% This is about her time...and the gift to me of being able to share in some of "her time."

Before she's gone

2009-03-02T14:09:00.000-06:00

Just this last Sunday I was again convicted to keep a written record of my life. "Journaling" they call it...until now. Now it's called "blogging." A way to keep a record. A way to capture and contain memories. The conviction, by the way, was to keep a record of my daughter's life. I am actually interested in holding on (danger ahead) to everything that she does...for her...and for me. This is a way of prolonging the "dance" (Ref. Dance with Cinderella).

Last week, Daddy was late on Thursday. I have been working out a way to keep from being so late in the future, but that is for another post. Last week my precious daughter sat on my lap while I ate dinner (she's 8) and proceeded to share information about her day in a rather continuous stream. When she fell silent, her mother and I began a brief side conversation which was interrupted with "Why is it that people don't understand that you can't always know which way to run and then they yell at you." Uh oh... With a bit of encouragement, through her tears of dissapointment, we learned she had been "scolded" by her peers for some error or other in a recent game of kickball...her first of two games of kickball she has ever played.

My daughter has been blessed with more talent than I have ever seen. Unfortunately, like her dad, she was not particularly blessed with athletic skill. In fact, like her dad, she doesn't really go out for sports at all. So it was no surprise to me that she was caught in an error...I can remember many from my torturous days in P.E. I was acutally more surprised the day before when she shared her joy at having "accidentally" run the wrong way after kicking the ball but then correcting her "error" and running at "super speed" to tag the base. "You can't believe how fast I ran."

So to hear that one day later her feelings were so hurt that she sat out the rest of the game and cried all through library...I was understandably crushed. I was grateful for the two friends who comforted her...angels in pig-tails I am sure. "Where was the coach," I asked. Where is the "sportsman-like behavior" lecture? I won't judge too harshly because I don't know where he was...but I would like to think that yelling at a teamate for an error is something a coach should be listening for...as a teachable moment. If not, well, the kids will grow up to be like their parents...yelling at their kids for errors, on and off the field.

Compassion.

At interesting side note, her favorite of our attempts to help her feel better involved her wishing that "all the teachers were closed off in a room" and the "principle was locked in his office" so that Daddy could say (or do) anything he wanted with those kids who hurt her feelings. I regret to admit, this was one of my favorite thoughts as well.

Vengence.

We call those kinds of kids "tearer downers" at our house. The opposite of "builder upers." I think she knows what I mean when I pray for both in our evening prayers. Thank you God for the builder upers in her life....and thank you for the parents who took the time to build those little builder upers. You know who you are....you're the ones who are sick of the tearer downers in adult life.

The givers and the takers. God give us the wisdom as parents to be givers, and to give the world our greatest gift: our children - who are ready to give more.