Oh, brother!
Being an only child, I must say I take great delight in watching my three children love and tolerate one another. This picture says it all.
I can see wonderful things in our future. Oh, yes.
It's a long story.
Being an only child, I must say I take great delight in watching my three children love and tolerate one another. This picture says it all.
I can see wonderful things in our future. Oh, yes.
I forgot this today. So here it is, just in case you did too.
Matthew 6: 31-34
So do not worry, saying,’What shall we eat?’ or’What shall we drink?’ or’What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
A few weeks ago, I was chatting online with a young man in England. Our topic was a specific piece of software. However, God had other plans. As I shared that I was building a new website for my church, the young man began to ask questions . . . very tough questions. But these questions reveal, I believe, what is going through the minds of many students and young adults all over the world.
We spoke on a number of occasions. There was no debating. No arguing. Only two people openly discussing God, the world, and ourselves. Below is a compilation from our chats (I changed his name of course). I share these with you to illustrate that sometimes even the toughest of questions can be directly answered with the simple truth of God’s love and faithfulness.
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Richard: so, your quite religious?
Me: Not religious.
Just a Christian. Big difference.
Richard: same difference?
Me: My “religion” isn’t what makes me a Christian.
Going to church, being this, being that.
Those things are important. But I don’t worship them.
In this part of the country, it’s common to see people blur that distinction.
My relationship with Jesus makes me who I am. That’s it. So, semantics aside . . .
Richard: lol sorry, i was just curious
Me: You bet. Anytime. You?
Richard: I’m baptized, but agnostic
Me: odd combination?
Richard: very
I was christened as a baby
Me: I see. Catholic?
Richard: Protestant
Me: Hmmm.
Richard: but, I see a lot of confliction in the bible
and there is a lot of bad for all the good in the world.
9 out of 10 wars are sparked due to differences in religion.
look at Iraq, Northern Ireland etc.
Catholics vs. Protestants, Shia vs. Sunni, Christians vs. Muslims
Me: It’s been going on since Genesis, hasn’t it?
Richard: that doesn’t make it right.
I can see that faith gives people great strength and I think that life on earth must have a greater meaning and purpose than our daily existence because if you think about it no-one on earth knows why we are here, what we are doing; our purpose.
no-one knows what is outside the universe. you only have those that believe in something better or worse and those who reject or dont know believers, atheists and agnostic in between
Me: Can I ask how old you are?
Richard: 18
Me: These are great insights. I questioned the same things when I was eighteen.
And nineteen.
And twenty.
I’m 33 now. Still thinking about those.
Here’s the difference. I think you’re right that clearly there’s more to it. Something greater than ourselves. Something else . . .
But I feel that humanity is a little arrogant. We tend to assume that we are capable of finding purpose in everything.
Why cancer?
Why this? Why that?
War, even in the name of religion. What’s up with that?
But in the end, it’s my own soul, my own self that I can truly do something about. So many of these things we discuss are products of either a lack of God or a misrepresentation of God.
Would you agree with that?
Richard: i think that its very easy to shift the blame.
Its easy to say that God has left the middle east to rot, but I also think that people are made vulnerable by religious belief as much as it strengthens
Me: Perhaps it’s our vulnerability that allows us to do our greatest work in the world? Weakness might not be a bad thing. It is after all strength that leads to power that leads to abuse of power.
Richard: look at religious extremists
Me: Do you feel that they speak for religion as a whole?
Richard: no
Me: They do. [of course I mean they think they do]
Richard: of course not
Me: That’s what is sad.
Richard: extremists? they misrepresent it
Me: Exactly.
As do many of us on a daily basis.
Richard: and this is made worse by the media
Me: Amen to that. Then point is, so many people make decisions about their belief in God, or God’s involvement in their life based on people around them.
Richard: to backtrack slightly, would you not agree that extremists exploit the weaknesses in religious believers to build armies?
Me: People who may or may not be a true representation of who God is. That is a common tactic among all civilizations. I would agree with that.
But does that mean that we should not worship God? Or that we should learn more about Him (who warns us that there are many who would lead us astray) Those people are”religious” . . . they are easily led astray. Furthermore, their problems are more geo-political
Richard: but how can you learn more about God? you cant profess to know his way
Me: I can seek it. Sure.
Richard: for all we know the bible could be the most successful hoax for 2007 years
Me: Ah. Now we come to the heart of the matter. Again, something I’ve wrestled with a lot.
I’ve just gone through a quick introduction study to Islam and the Koran. The main problem of any religion is the validity of its written word. The muslim book of faith is riddled with problems. (historically)
However, one might say the same about the Bible. Who knows what things went on in the Cannonization process, political or otherwise?
But here’s the cool part. Faith. The Bible says it’s the evidence of things not seen. I can’t prove the Bible’s validity. I’m not smart enough. But I can prove what God has done in my life. I was there.
Richard: what has he done?
Me: He has watched over me and cared for me. He has given me a wonderful family, a loving home.
He has taken me through trials, through loss, abuse. I don’t have one of those Oprah stories for you. Mine’s not glamorous. But it’s real. And it’s built on a life of serving someone greater than me. Even when I didn’t deserve it. So, I don’t base my faith, my belief in what I see. I base it on what I believe.
We pretend to KNOW a lot of things. Yet, my RSS reader tells me often how we NOW KNOW something to be different than we once KNEW it. So, how much do we REALLY know about anything.
Not that we shouldn’t learn. I love science, and discovery. I love learning about the miracles all around us. I hope you keep asking the questions we’re talking about. Because I truly believe that one day, when you find what you believe to be a solid answer that answer will be in God, not in religious people . . . good or bad.
They (me included) will ALWAYS let you down.
No excuses.
No blame shifting.
Just reality. But God, He’s better than that.
Oh, and one more thing. The Bible (which I believe to be perfect in spite of man’s involvement in it) says this about knowing what God wants.
Don’t conform to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind that you may PROVE the perfect will of God. That which is perfect, and honorable, and pure.
In other words, when I am able to see all the crap of this world through God’s eyes, then I’ll begin to understand my place here on Earth.
Know what’s funny? So much is made about our place, our souls. But when you look at all the stories in the Bible, you rarely see God working on a time frame less than a few centuries. It was a knock to my ego, but I finally realized that while the things I do on this Earth are crucial to God’s plan, I may honestly never live to see the value of what I’ve done. (Which I guess is why He’s so big on obedience and faith).
OK, I’ll hush now. Don’t mean to preach.
Richard: so hang on
1. you know gods game plan
2. What have you done that you may not see the value of?
Me: Good Q’s.
Richard:
3. You think that god may be having a nap right now in between saving the world?
Me:
1. I daily seek God’s plan, and He promised that I can find it. But it is a process.
A lifelong process.
2. Having this conversation, perhaps.
3. God’s plan is much bigger than you or I. He already “saved” the world. We just keep screwing it up.
That’s the easiest and yet hardest thing to understand about God. Free will. He could force us to love Him. To obey Him. But we were created with free will. Which means we have the choice not to obey, not to seek, or even not to believe. And so . . . we need saving.
But that doesn’t mean an end to struggle. Honestly, the Bible tells us it will only get worse. Eutopia is not to be found here. If we choose to follow Him, He uses us to advance His perfect will.
If we choose otherwise, well then we (and the world around us) must deal with the consequences or our actions.
But make no mistake. God doesn’t sleep.
If He did, I doubt you or I would be having this converstation. After all, just because we can’t see His hand working in our lives doesn’t mean it isn’t.
Richard: well, you were talking about the arrogance of humanity earlier. lets twist this. by answering my questions, you profess to know the answers. you seem to know your purpose. but — surely you are just relaying what others have told you or what you have read / picked up . . . and if not — then you’ve made it up
Me: lol
Richard: talk about a pincer manouver. let me develop this
Me: I’m listening.
Richard: you believe that when you die (as a catholic christian) that you will go to heaven or hell, is that right? or is it purgatory then heaven? one goes one way
Me: I’m not Catholic. But otherwise, yes. Heaven or Hell.
Richard: so, if you’ve been a naughty boy you get red hot pokers and tea with saddam or if you’ve been good you get to play the harp on cloud 9
Me: Nope. But thanks for playing. Let me clarify. It’s not about naughty or nice. Good or bad. We’re all bad. All naughty. Bible says . . . there is not one righteous, no not one. So what makes the difference? Jesus.
Richard: repentance?
Me: Exactly. Now, repentance means turning “from” right?
Richard: I know the story
Me: Sure.Good. But, what happens when we’ve turned “from” so many times our head is spinning?
I mean, let’s get real. I’m not perfect, and haven’t been for a long time.
But everyday, I get up and try to simply obey what I know about what God wants. (As He tells me in his Word, right?) It’s the grace and mercy of Jesus that puts me playing that harp on that cloud, or whatever. Not my success in being good.
As I stated earlier, people will always let you down. It’s the Jesus inside of them that you can count on. Does that help answer that question?
Richard: no. because if every person has jesus inside them, or at least every believer, then why will they let you down?
Me: Good question. We’re still human. Jesus doesn’t take over like night of the living dead. When we give our lives to Him, we commit what we do to His glory. But we still have free will. If we could be perfect, we wouldn’t need Him in the first place.
Richard: ok — so do you think that if everyone converted to christianity then the world would be a perfect place? global warming would stop, cancer would disappear? AIDS would fade out?
Me: Nah. We missed that boat in the Old Testament. God created a perfect world. Then we disobeyed and messed it all up.
Richard:
what do you think of this? http://www.bash.org/?301963 [reader: we discuss this later if you want to take a look]
Me:
Hang on and I’ll check out that link. But first, let me finish my thought before it drifts away.
There are things, problems, that we created for ourselves, environmental, medical, whatever. These things are consequences of our own actions.
I know some who have “converted” to Christianity who might not be doing their part to make the world a better place. Again, my faith isn’t in people.
I know we could argue theory all day long, but God isn’t working with theory. I think honestly that if everyone on the planet walked with God the way He intended, the world would obviously be a different place. At this point, I’m not sure even Al Gore can stop global warming.
Now, let me look at that link (and by the way, I never said I knew the answers. I’m sharing what I believe to be true. Everyone believes something. And sure I’m telling you what I’ve learned from others. How else would I know it than by study and instruction?) Remind me to tell you about a comment on my blog not too long ago.
[after returning from reading link]
Wildly entertaining read. Very good. Again, the arrogance of religion to say that everyone BUT them is going to Hell.
But, then who goes? Endothermic vs. Ectothermic battle aside, Hell is real.
As is Heaven.
Although I doubt anyone is drinking tea or playing harps at either location. As good as that quote is, it amplifies a sad truth.
The Bible does clearly say, Got Jesus? Going to Heaven.
The problem is sin. I just screws up everything. Things like pride and fear get mixed in, and suddenly you’ve got a bunch of Christians who are supposed to be sharing God’s love dishing out nothing but hatred.
That’s not good. For any religion.
I can’t deny that those without a personal relationship with Jesus Christ will sadly spend eternity in Hell. I also can’t deny that I, because of my relationship with Jesus Christ, will not.
You still with me?
Richard:
right, but again, how can you know all of this? how can you know that hell exists? same goes for heaven? there is no conclusive evidence. you can only believe that they are there.
Me: How can you know that chair you’re sitting in won’t fall over in the next 60 seconds?
Richard: physics
Me: You may understand that. But most don’t
Richard: I put the chair together, I know that its firmly bolted together
Me: What if you didn’t make the chair?
Richard: gravity from the earths core is holding it to the ground
Me: What if you had no concept of the physics and gravitation force? What if you’re like the several billion people on the planet who simply believe that the chair will keep them off the floor?
Richard: but the point is, that there is conclusive evidence that supports the laws of physics, extensive theories that have been commonly accepted
Me: So, do you believe in anything you can’t prove?
Richard: wheras . . . hang on . . . thats a twisted and loaded question . . .give me a second to think about it
Me: true, but a good one.
Richard: simply because you cant prove something does not mean that its not there but you shouldnt use that fact as justification to say that something exists
Me: Have you ever seen Saturn? With your own eyes?
Richard: no
Me: So, you believe it based on what someone else told you? Maybe pictures?
Richard: no. out of context, I have no idea that its there. without contextual knowledge, there is no proof that its there
Me: So, it’s not there?
Richard: you’ve laid a good trap
Me: No trap.
Richard: saturn is there, but I personally havent seen it
Me: Just asking a question. You’ve asked me to prove the existence of Heaven.
Me: I haven’t seen.
Richard: someone else has done the legwork of discovering it
Me: I’ve read about it.
Richard: but you cant compare saturn to heaven
Me: Why not?
Richard: because millions of people have seen saturn
Me: No, sir.
Richard: through telescopes etc.
thousands?
Me: They have seen what they believe to be Saturn, what they have called Saturn. They used to call Pluto a planet.
They used to think the world was flat.
What will they “see” a hundred years from now.
All we truly ever have is what we believe. The confidence in those around us to tell us truthful information. The willingness to believe there could be something more. They are all beliefs.
I believe in Heaven because I believe in the Bible. I believe in the Bible because it’s the word of God.
I believe in God because I believe in God.
I have found Him to be faithful. I have found Him to be true. I have tested His Word. And while He is not a Circus Act that I can call on to make magic, He is most willing to move mountains for me. Even if I can’t see them, still I believe.
Know what else? It’s my weakness that makes Him strong. How weird is that?
The second I stop trying to do everything on my own and start relying on Him to direct the course of my life, my reliance on Him, my acknowledgment of His power, not mine, that’s what stirs action in my life.
It’s not something you’re going to find with Google, Richard.
Richard: lol i know. ok, but what happens if you die and nothing happens? can you remember what happened before you were born?
Me: I’m kind of glad I don’t. Seems like that would have been dark and messy. But I get your point.
Richard:
lol. I dont mean in the womb
Me: I know.
Richard: I mean before you were conceived
Me: Dude, I’m just a man.
Richard: Before you arrived _here_ I know — but, if you cant remember anything before
Me: I’m only responsible for what I do from the birth canal to the grave.
Richard: how can you be so sure that there is going to be an after? this is what plagues me
Me: I see that.
Richard: in the beginning there was nothing and in the end … there will be nothing?
Me: Let me think of something profound . . .stand by, this may take a minute.
Richard: ok
Me: I’ve abandoned the profound . . I’m now searching Google. (jk)
My wife and I just had a baby boy. He looks just like me.
This leads my mother to tell me story after story about what I did at that age. I used to do this, I used to do that. I don’t remember ANY of it. But it happened.
Was I supposed to remember it? Couldn’t. Didn’t have the brain capacity, the processing power, the retention abilities yet. It was bigger than me. But it happened.And it was great. And without it, I would have been deprived.
I can’t remember pre-birth. Dude, I don’t even know how that works in Heaven. I’m not told.
But I’m told about Heaven AFTER life. I haven’t seen it. But, for all the knowledge, all the study, all the time spent in those message boards searching for how to get rollovers to work in Safari . . . we are nothing without our believe in something.
Can’t prove that. But life will teach you that. As it is teaching me.
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These are (as I mentioned) ongoing conversations. They happen in the midst of other topics like computers, family, divorce, the military. To my knowledge, this young man remains undecided on God. However, I’m so thankful to have had the opportunity to answer some of his questions, and I pray for more.
Not long ago I met Sir William and Prince Charles. It was an honor for me as I rarely meet men of their station. Of course it is not for lack of opportunity. Both William and Charles spend most of their time just a few miles from where I call home. If I were to visit them, however, they would not invite me in. I would be given no tour of their guest wing. I would see no king-sized bed, no portraits of great ancestors, no walls upon which to hang them.
Neither William nor Charles have a home. They reside rather among the streets of Downtown Nashville. William is 52. He has just been released from the hospital where doctors recently removed his appendix and portions of his pancreas. He is no stranger to hospitals. His life on the streets came just after a fall from a three story building shattered his right heel. He was working then. He is not now. In fact, he hasn’t for three years. With no income and suffering from severe health problems, this man who grew up the son of a defense contract executive is now walking through the night just to stay warm.
Charles plays the saxophone, tenor and baritone. He is charismatic and well spoken. He is a diesel mechanic and an electrician. And he is also homeless.
As I talked with Charles and William, I found it hard to understand why they were on the streets. These seemed to be reasonably intelligent men. They had education. They had verbal skills. But just because I can’t understand a reality doesn’t make it less so. In that reality, there are most likely two histories that are full of issues I could never truly understand, circumstances I could never comprehend unless I lived them.
During dinner, Charles talked a great deal. William contributed from time to time in his quiet, gentle way. Together with my friend Jeff, we shared a few laughs and a great meal with these and other gentlemen. Then we left.
Both William and Charles knew they would likely never see us again, and so they thanked us for our hospitality and kindness.
Jeff and I didn’t speak about this to one another. But we could both tell what the other was thinking. How does it get this far gone? What about family? What about government programs? What about churches? What about . . . me?
There are some who would make homelessness a political issue. The liberal might cast a vote for federal government programs designed to jump-start these men back into economic and/or social readiness. The conservative might stress the importance of local involvement and individual awareness, offering up faith-based initiatives as a better alternative.
The liberal might offer that we should do everything we can to get these men off the streets or at least out of the cold. The conservative might agree, but remind the liberal that more of these men should help themselves.
But while the two are struggling to right the wrongs of society through policy, William continues to walk through the night to stay warm. Charles continues to migrate from state to state working to save enough money to settle down in a location of his choosing, all the while trying not to spend his hard-earned money of needless expenses like shelter.
There’s a quote that is sometimes attributed to Winston Churchill:
“If you’re not a liberal when you’re 25, you have no heart. If you’re not a conservative by the time you’re 35, you have no brain.”
I wonder when it comes to issues like homelessness where in that spectrum I fall. That’s when I remember the words of the volunteer who stayed with these men that night after my friend and I left for our homes. “Remember,” he said. “These guys don’t need you to fix their problems. Most of the time, they just want to be warm, fed, and . . .”
catch this . . .
“to carry on a conversation with someone who will listen.”
Later, after a lengthy conversation regarding our favorite authors, William confirmed these words. “It’s so nice,” he said, ” to carry on an intelligent conversation with someone who cares.”
That’s when I realized why I was there. It was not to gain insight into the problems of social policy. It was not to fix anything for William and Charles, to find them jobs, or to set right the wrongs they had suffered or even inflicted. Instead, I was there to be a friend on a night when there was no one else.
Sometimes, a problem is so big that we never get started trying to fix it. So that night, I decided to start by not trying to fix anything. Instead, I put social stigmas aside. I laid down my prejudices and had conversations with two men that the day before might have never crossed my mind. These were not homeless men, they were just men. They could have just as easily been royalty.
And so it is that Jeff and I spent our Monday evening having a wonderful dinner with two truly wonderful gentlemen. Good luck to you, Sir William and Prince Charles. I do hope to see you both again soon.
Remember those posters they used to sell? The one’s with the headline “Everything I know about life I learned from . . .”
Then inserted after the ellipse was something like ” . . . Kindergarten,” or ” . . . my cat.” Well, this morning it occurred to me that there are life lessons in many things, although I rarely see them. Much like these posters tell us, there’s much to be learned in life’s day to day. This morning I took lessons from something I do (almost) every morning, shaving. The following are my less than scholarly observations.
Life Lessons From Shaving:
1. Going against the grain can be tricky, but necessary.
I get so frustrated when these “how to” bloggers and old fashioned barbers try to tell me that to achieve the best shave, you must shave WITH the direction of your hair. Going against the grain, they say, causes irritation, thus impeding the blade from making solid contact with your skin.
So why is it that every time I shave WITH the grain, I spend the day nervously scratching the 12 patches of stubble this perfect shaving technique left behind?
So I draw this conclusion:
Sometimes in life, it is necessary to go against the grain to get the job done. HOWEVER, one will almost invariably have better results by FIRST going with the grain, then take the opposing course of action only when necessary.
2. Timing is everything.
Perhaps at the infantile age of 32 I’m still hovering in the final stages of some tragically prolonged puberty purgatory. This would explain why after one day of growth, my beard still isn’t quite long enough to provide a clean shave. Shaving on the second day gives my face a much better opportunity to offer up a more substancial sacrifice to the beard buddah. Of course, I can’t always wait to shave every other day. This means that sometimes, I just have to deal with it.
So I draw this conclusion:
Probelm solving isn’t always an instant process. Sometimes a problem needs to be allowed to fully expose itself before it can be dealt with correctly. However, that doesn’t change the fact that other times you just have to do what you have to do.
3. A little heat never hurt anyone.
Ever tried to shave when it was cold? Enough said.
So I draw this conclusion:
When life heats up, smile. We often do our best work in this environment.
4. Smoke and mirrors are a part of life.
I decided long ago to shave not before, not after, but during a shower. It’s easier, quicker, and the results are just better. However, this decision led me to a profound consumer realization. There is no such thing as a fogless mirror! It’s a constant battle I face (no pun intended) – trying to focus through the haze of morning on a blurry image in a foggy mirror while I rake a sharp blade across my throat.
So I draw this conclusion:
Very few things are as they seem. So much of what we do, from the mudain and ordinary to the extreme and perilous, requires us to make decisions based on information that is far too often clouded by the smoke and mirrors of the world. Don’t believe me? Watch the news.
5. Some problems never go away, we just get better at dealing with them.
You know what’s funny? Nearly everyday of my adult life I shave. Then I go to work, come home, go to bed, wake up, and . . . dadgummit! I have to shave all over again. This is a viscious cycle that I frankly can’t believe we haven’t found a way to break yet. But alas, we have not. And so . . . I shave. I am, therefore I shave. But I’m a lot better at it than I used to be.
So I draw this FINAL conclusion:
Try as we might, there are some problems we will never “fix.” When it comes to these things, perhaps “fixing” isn’t the goal, but rather what we become in the process.
So . . . did I miss anything? Share your comments and add to the list!
Last Summer my wife and I toured the art galleries of Santa Fe, New Mexico. I must admit, most of what what I saw there was a bit beyond me. Please don’t think me simple. If you had seen some of this stuff, you’d say the same thing.
But there was one sculpture that captivated me. It was a bronze piece by an artist named Mackenzie Thorpe. In most of the Thorpe sculptures and paintings scattered throughout the gallery, all the children had very large heads, while the adults had rather small heads. This, according to the extremely well-dressed metro-sexual greeting us that day, was no accident. It seems that Thorpe believes that our capacity for learning, for thought, is at its greatest when we are young. As we grow older, that capacity diminishes.
It was after that explanation that I saw the bronze statue titled “Don’t Let Them Down.” The man in the statue does in fact have a rather small head. However, his feet (or should I say his shoes) are extremely large. In addition to trying to fill these extremely large shoes, the man is pushing a stroller, uphill, and obviously in the face of some other seemingly insurmountable odds such as climate (as evidenced by the raincoat that seems to be blowing in the wind.) Going backwards (or letting them “down”) is simply not an option, and this guy knows it.
I thought about my children. I thought about what I am to them. I never had a very clear picture of what a Dad looked like growing up. There’s another story there, certainly. But suffice to say that each day of my life I feel as if I’m blazing a trail. I’ve been a Dad now for eight years. Much of this time I’ve been convinced that being a good Dad meant showing your kids you loved them with words and actions. I was certain that it meant spending time with them, loving their mother in front of them, and setting an example of how to treat friends, family, and the world in general.
But the man in this picture doesn’t seemed too concerned with treating the world in general. He’s not trying to bond with the baby in the stroller. He’s not trying to foster a strong self image for his offspring. Instead, he is simply trying to move forward, despite the odds. It made me realize that being a Dad (or a Mom for that matter) is not always about what the kids see. There are so many responsibilities that must be addressed each day as a parent at a level far below a child’s radar.
Whether it’s paying the bills or keeping the house, taking out the trash or changing the oil, these things matter. Renewing your car tags, saving for a rainy day, taking care of your own parents, and voting are all ways to be a parent. These are things that will likely go unnoticed unless they go undone.
So even though the high “I” personality inside of me wants to focus on those special after-school moments with my children, I’m beginning to see how the less-glamorous moments, the often unseen, unspoken, unrewarded tasks we must face, are often of equal importance to the welfare and well-being of our children.
In short, our big shoes make it possible for those big heads to tackle the world, and we can’t let them down.
When I was younger, I wrote love letters. They began simply enough with “check-yes-or-no” messages to one girl or another. Over time they evolved into sappy pieces of sentimentality that won the hearts of some, scared away a few others, and drew the attention of more than one concerned father.
What is it about a written note that speaks so well to a person’s heart? On one of the toughest days of my new job, I sat at my desk to see a PostIt in plain sight. The note simply read:
I’m praying for you friend.
Jeff
That was March when my best friend dropped by to leave that bit of encouragement. This is December, and that note is still there. People delete emails and phone messages. They keep notes and letters.
Recently, my wife showed me a note from our oldest daughter, a love letter of sorts. We’ve been working with our children to understand the concepts of teamwork and responsibility. Darlene had asked our oldest daughter for example to help clean up the bonus room.
“But I didn’t make this mess. This was RileyGrace’s mess!”
“I understand,” my wife had reassured her. “But RileyGrace is doing something I’ve asked her to do, and I need you to do what I’ve asked you to do.”
“But that’s not fair!”
“No, it’s not. Nor is it fair that I have to wash ALL of your clothes, even if I didn’t wear them.” (Score two for Mom.)
The next morning, Darlene began her morning ritual of bed making. McKenzie protested and insisted that she be allowed to make her own bed.
“It’s not fair for you to have to make my bed. It’s not your responsibility.”
Though admitedly taken with our daughter’s response, my wife (an oldest child herself) was overwhelmed with pride. Later that day, she penned the follow “love letter:”
KK,
Wow! What a nice surprise to come in and find your bed made. Thank you. It really helped my morning.
I love you,
Mommy
Very soon after having left the note, my wife discovered the following correspondence in second-grade-script lying on her bed:
Hey Mom,
I guess dispaline really does teach people a lesson. Thank you a lot. 1 (one) lesson learned. About 100,000 to go.
Love,
McKenzie
Who would have thought one little square slip of paper, one small love letter from a daughter to her mom could be so powerful? A few short words that speak volumes of wisdom, reassurance, acceptance, and most of all . . . love.
If you’ve read this blog at all, you know that I have children. Three of them. All smarter than me. Even the one who still spits up and poops his pants. I don’t deny this. But now they’ve gone too far. If I am to believe them, the smart ones, then God is now relaying messages for me through them. Not in the grab-your-heart-that’s-so-profound kind of way. I’m talking about real conversations between God and my children, all apparently meant for my benefit.
RileyGrace (you knew this had to do with her, didn’t you?) was demonstrating her superior knowledge after church last Sunday. She was telling me (poor uneducated father) that the something or other had to be a certain way because of this or that and the other thing. (I pay great attention to my children when they speak. Of this I’m proud). Somewhere along the way, however, I discovered a flaw in her logic. Now keep in mind, I don’t have many opportunities to be right, so I grab them when they speed past.
Yet RileyGrace was undeterred by my correction and remained steadfast in her belief. (This could be a sign of things to come). Now any parent can tell you the number one rule of fathers and four-year-old daughters: Arguments are like quicksand, the harder you try, the deeper it gets. I broke the rule.
My daughter, having just come from church and feeling empowered by her ecclesiastical exploits, calls upon the scripture to support her argument.
“Daddy, the Bible says . . .”
Now, I didn’t get through 3 months of Bible drill by being slow with a King James. So I quickly interrupted.
” . . . to obey your mother and father.” I finished for her.
“Daddy!” RileyGrace threw her hands up in front of her as if to stop me in my tracks, then continued.
“God is talking to me.”
Oh, so sorry. Did not realize that. How rude of me. So I asked the next logical question.
“So, RileyGrace, what is He saying?”
“He is saying that I am right.”
Once again, I simply prove to be inferior.
My kids . . . what can I say? They’re prodigies. Here you see my four year old is already trying her hand at Halloween cinematography. Sure it’s been done. But I must say, she’s hitting 11 on the scary meter with this one.
I know it’s a little late to be posting Halloween pix, but I frankly didn’t have much to say about the topic until now. What changed? I’m really not sure. For me, the whole Halloween thing was always about ghosts and goblins and such. Throw in a good horror movie, some really fresh candy corn (ever had that year-old stale stuff? YUCK!) and you’ve got a great excuse to safely pretend to explore the “other side” of good vs. evil.
What I noticed this year, however, was not so much about good and evil. I saw in my children a different kind of duality. And I can’t believe I forgot what this felt like. Remember dressing up, becoming someone totally different? Remember suspending reality for just a short time and truly believing you were in fact a $10 Storm Trooper from the star-ship WalMart?
I saw this in my children for the first time this year. And I don’t know how I could have missed it. My oldest, McKenzie, is . . . well, the oldest. She’s predictably over-achieving and strives for perfection in all she does. So what does she choose for her costume? A Geisha. Now, I know what you’re thinking. I thought it to. ‘What? My daughter is going trick our treating as an 18th Century Japanese prostitute?’ But let’s move passed this for a moment. To my daughter (who I sincerely hope has yet to define the word’prostitute’) this costume is something entirely different. To her there is only beauty, mystery, and perfection. This is who she is, who she wants to be. And I love that about her.
My four year old was a fairy princess. I think that one speaks for itself.
Our friends joined us. Their costumes were equally telling. McKenzie’s counterpart, the Ninja formerly known as Brad, was telling all with those eyes of his. Deadly, yet adorable. Here’s a kid that has the brain power to take over the world, but the temperament to give it all back to whoever needs it. I was proud to have an ancient warrior to escort my little Japanese . . . uh . . . lady. Then there was Bailey. Another princess. Again, no explanation needed.
Dude-man Bryant joined in the fun, but wasn’t quite old enough to have developed an alter ego. As for Logan and myself, we were embracing the true essence of who we knew ourselves to be – porch dwellers. And scary ones at that.
Next year I will take note. While there are many who will wimp out with the traditional one-eyeball-hanging-out rubber mask and Daddy’s old overalls, I’m betting that there are a few whos’ masks will do more revealing than concealing. I’ll also be watching to see what masks my children and their friends adorn. What will those masks say about them? Time will tell. Until then, it’s just me on the porch eating Candy Corn. Yum yum.
Two years ago, about this time of year, I wrote the following . . .
Just hung up the phone with the man I affectionately refer to as “Papaw.” This would of course be my grandfather, my mother’s father. In so many ways this man has played a vital role in my life. Papaw is the universal fix it man for everything tangible in our lives. If it’s broken, he can fix it. If it’s not broken, he can still fix it.
I’ve spent many years watching him. There were times I wanted to be just like him. I still do. I learned a few years ago that a man’s worth isn’t found so much in what he knows, but in what he does with what he knows. I also learned, thanks to Papaw, that style is relative, and that class (like still waters) runs incredibly deep.
The phone call was like many others before. “Hey man,” he would say. “What’s going on?” I would ask, as if I didn’t know. “Aw, just sittin’ on the couch. Your Mamaw’s cookin’ supper. I’ve been down at the shop fixin’ that [you could insert any item here] for [you could insert any person here, especially a member of his family].” And so on and so on.
Papaw’s not much for in-depth conversation. No deep transcendental thoughts on the order of the universe . . . no philosophical musings. No. Just chit chat. It is enough for my grandfather to simply have you on the phone ““ to know you are safe, happy, and without want. This is the purpose of conversation for him, to know his family is safe.
On occasion, however, he will (much like today) pierce my unsuspecting heart with a love so so profound, yet so unknowing. It is then that he is like hot coffee in a cup that’s too small. When he spills out, you’re gonna cry – only in a good way.
“I’m glad you’re coming in for Christmas,” he told me, as if this were a new thing. We come home every year. In 32 years, I’ve never spent a Christmas morning away from this man. “Maybe we’ll have time,” he continues, “to just be together.” My eyes watered as I listened. “I just enjoy being with you, just driving and talking. Maybe we can do that,” he says.
OK. That’s not fair. I had no warning.
There are two things you need to know at this point:
1) Conversation is never easy between my grandfather and me. On the surface, it’s like Bartles talking with James. The older I get, however, our conversations remind me more of the dialogue in a Hemingway novel. So much not said. It would take, I suppose, someone of tremendous perception to appreciate the full value of each sparse word, each pregnant pause.
2) Since the arrival of my children, quality time with my grandfather (no matter how dysfunctional) has been VERY limited. My family’s abbreviated trips back to Alabama are usually reserved for time spent spoiling great grandchildren. Papaw/Brandon time is hard for both of us to come by.
BUT ““ if I can ever get him alone and start chipping away at those walls he builds around his mind and his heart, I can (on occasion) probe just a little deeper. It is then that I get just a glimpse into this man that contributed so completely to my raising ““ this man who still remains such a mystery. He was now giving me another such opportunity.
Thus, the tears.
“Sure, Papaw,” I chocked back. “Maybe L’Rancho [local dive good for just such an occasion] will be open on Monday morning. We could go get some breakfast.” I couldn’t say much more.
If you could only see what I see, or rather what I can’t see. It’s a strange thing to love someone so much and know so little about them. He has so much bottled up inside. I’m sure to let it all out would in many ways betray who he is to begin with. But to just glimpse into who he really is . . . that’s what I want.
I want to hear about being a father to my mother. I want to hear about working at 15 to support a family, about owning and operating a business, about thriving, about surviving.
Somehow, when I read or hear about men who buckled down in the face of adversity, it inspires me to do the same. While it takes a true leader to do the right thing in the absence of precedent, it’s important for posterity to realize that it can be done. Others have done it. Great men have done it. I belive the potential is there for my generation as well. We can be great men. We are born from great men.
Yet we are a spoiled generation of quick fixes. Microwaves, computers, credit cards . . . not all evil (except for the credit cards) but still not representative of the hard working delayed gratification that built this incredible nation.
Only briefly have I seen Papaw open up about alcoholism. Only briefly have I heard him speak of hard work in tough times. I would so love to have another opportunity to look inside once again and build on these small but giant moments. I have so much to learn, and he has so much to teach.
However, if that time doesn’t come I can rest easy knowing that the really crucial lessons have already been taught through his actions, and consistently so.
1. Love your family like they’re all you have, because they truly are.
2. If there’s work to be done, do it. Then rest.
3. Don’t ignore problems. They just get bigger.
4. Always keep air in the tires and oil in the engine.
5. Don’t shoot a BB gun when someone’s in your way.
6. Clean up extra food and crumbs, or suffer the wrath of ants.
7. Take care of other people’s things.
8. Take care of your own things.
9. Be on time.
10. It’s OK to wash your hair in the sink, if you have to.
And most of all, the greatest gift you can give your family is yourself. Be there for them, even when it’s not fun, or when they’re not fun, or when you’re not fun.
When it’s all said and done, this is most important.
I do love that man. And I know without a shadow of a doubt . . . that he loves me.