Last night I planned on surprising Carissa with a date. I had arranged for babysitters, thought about what to do, changed plans at the last second and bought tickets to the symphony. I thought it would be a great way to end the week - relaxing, new, fun.
Carissa knew we had a date. She just didn't know what we were doing. All I told her was to dress up a bit. The babysitters would be here at 6, which would leave plenty of time to get something to eat and then find our seats before down beat (not sure that's what they call it in the symphony, but anyway...)
6:15 p.m. The phone rings. The babysitters were in a car wreck. My first thought, "Oh no! Are they ok?" Answer: yes. Whew.
Now my second thought, "Crap! How in the world are we going to find someone to watch the kids? We have to leave NOW if we're going to be on time!" (By the way, my pet peave is being late.)
So we start the frantic cell phone calls. Each call led to more and more stress on my part. Out of town. Sick kid. Not home. Voice mail. AHHH!
Then, the saviors. I love you, Nick and Alecia. They were willing (and able) to watch the boys. The only problem is, now it's 6:30 and they live 25 minutes away. But we thought, let's try it anyway. So we hop in the truck and head out.
Now, at some point in the drive, I'm literally thinking, "This isn't worth it. Besides, there's no way we'll make it!" (Oh, and at this point Carissa still doesn't know what we're doing.)
Yet, we still drive. And the longer we drive, the more stressed I'm getting. But I'm doing my very best to just shut my mouth, because I don't want to make this evening any worse than it is apparently becoming. Then I think, "Maybe I can call Will Call and have the tickets transferred to tomorrow night." No dice. No refunds. No transfers. Grrrr!
Then I tell Carissa what we're doing. But I also say, "It's not worth it. We aren't going to make it anyway," to which she responds, in the perfect pitch, tone and tenor that only my bride can have, "Andy, let's try anyway. Because I really want to do this."
It completely changed my perspective on the whole situation. And now, as I look back at last night and hear her in my mind again, I think, "Maybe some things are worth the fight." Because to make a long story...well, too late. But we made it. And by the time we actually found our seats, we had only missed part of the first number. Sure we were a little late. But we had a great time. Relaxing, enjoyable, new.
Whatever you are facing, remember something. You may just have to gain the right perspective. Step back from the emotion of the ordeal. And see that in the end, while you may miss a little bit of the first number, overall, some things are worth the fight.
2/24/09
Parker's Lists
Conversation around the dinner table at our house can follow any number of paths. It can range from what happened at school that day to how hot the sun is to how bad the dog smells. Tonight's topic? Parker's "weeee list."
Now, I know what you're already thinking. And no. This isn't a list about the most exciting places to go #1. Although with two boys, God knows we have plenty of those conversations.
No, this is a list of names. More specifically, it's a list of Parker's "worst enemy enemy enemy enemies".
Every boy, I guess, has a list of enemies. I had one, though I never articulated it. Parker's list isn't long. In fact, there are only four names on it. But it's well thought out. If you ask him, he has very specific reasons for having these names on the list.
Three of the names don't really surprise me (although two are essentially the same person). The fourth name, however, caught me off guard. It's a name that many of you won't know. But if you do know her, you'll think, "What?!" just like I did. But again, if you ask him, there's a reason she made it onto the list. Apparently there was an incident on the playground.
So here they are. According to Parker, his "worst enemy enemy enemy enemies" are (in order):
1) The Devil
2) Satan
3) Gavin
4) Teagan
Now, if you are the parents of any of these people, I would like to point out that we did talk about God's command for us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (or kick at us on the playground). So hopefully, one day, the bottom two can move from the "weeee" list to the "f" "bf" or "bff" list. And yes, he has those all worked out in his mind too.
Now, I know what you're already thinking. And no. This isn't a list about the most exciting places to go #1. Although with two boys, God knows we have plenty of those conversations.
No, this is a list of names. More specifically, it's a list of Parker's "worst enemy enemy enemy enemies".
Every boy, I guess, has a list of enemies. I had one, though I never articulated it. Parker's list isn't long. In fact, there are only four names on it. But it's well thought out. If you ask him, he has very specific reasons for having these names on the list.
Three of the names don't really surprise me (although two are essentially the same person). The fourth name, however, caught me off guard. It's a name that many of you won't know. But if you do know her, you'll think, "What?!" just like I did. But again, if you ask him, there's a reason she made it onto the list. Apparently there was an incident on the playground.
So here they are. According to Parker, his "worst enemy enemy enemy enemies" are (in order):
1) The Devil
2) Satan
3) Gavin
4) Teagan
Now, if you are the parents of any of these people, I would like to point out that we did talk about God's command for us to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us (or kick at us on the playground). So hopefully, one day, the bottom two can move from the "weeee" list to the "f" "bf" or "bff" list. And yes, he has those all worked out in his mind too.
2/21/09
Ghetto Phones
We have two landline phones in our house. One in the kitchen; one in our bedroom. And they used to both work. Emphasis on 'used to'. Now, the one in the kitchen can't dial out. If someone calls in; if the connection already exists, that's a different story. The other one (the phone in the bedroom) dials out, but you can't hear anything. Oh you can talk to the other person; but you can't hear them talking to you.
So if you actually want to make a phone call and talk to the person on the other end, you have to dial with the bedroom phone and then run to the kitchen phone. See? Ghetto phones.
It got me thinking. So often, that's a picture of my relationship with God. There are two kinds of "phone calls" I will have with him. And sadly, rather than using a fully functioning phone, I'll use one of my two ghetto phones.
When life is going great, I'll use the kitchen phone. It's like I don't even need to dial. The connection is already there. I simply pick it up and start having a conversation. And man, it would be so easy if all of life was this way. Just have God on stand by waiting to telling us clearly what we need to hear.
But it doesn't always work that way. There are times when I have to call him up. It's part of having relationship. It's true with God, just like it's true with people. I can't always expect someone to call me. As they say, the phone works two ways (if it's not ghetto).
With God, I'll come to a point where I know I need to call him. So I'll walk to the bedroom, pick up the phone and dial. But then, I'll just start talking. And I get so busy talking and telling him what I think he needs to hear that I can't hear what he is saying back to me.
But then I remember something like the passage my pastor preached on just a few weeks ago. 1 Kings 19:10-12. Go read it. Basically, this is a fully functioning phone. Elijah had just gone off, telling God all of his "problems." And then, God spoke back. And Elijah must have had to take a breath or something, because he actually heard what God said.
You see, if I'm going to make it through life, I can't rely on a ghetto phone. I do that too often. Yes, there are times that I can unleash all my frustration and emotion on God. But there comes a point where I have to shut up and listen. Because so often God will be in that still small voice, telling me about his plan, his love, his forgiveness. And only by having a fully functioning phone, a fully functioning relationship with him, will I be able to actually hear him.
So if you actually want to make a phone call and talk to the person on the other end, you have to dial with the bedroom phone and then run to the kitchen phone. See? Ghetto phones.
It got me thinking. So often, that's a picture of my relationship with God. There are two kinds of "phone calls" I will have with him. And sadly, rather than using a fully functioning phone, I'll use one of my two ghetto phones.
When life is going great, I'll use the kitchen phone. It's like I don't even need to dial. The connection is already there. I simply pick it up and start having a conversation. And man, it would be so easy if all of life was this way. Just have God on stand by waiting to telling us clearly what we need to hear.
But it doesn't always work that way. There are times when I have to call him up. It's part of having relationship. It's true with God, just like it's true with people. I can't always expect someone to call me. As they say, the phone works two ways (if it's not ghetto).
With God, I'll come to a point where I know I need to call him. So I'll walk to the bedroom, pick up the phone and dial. But then, I'll just start talking. And I get so busy talking and telling him what I think he needs to hear that I can't hear what he is saying back to me.
But then I remember something like the passage my pastor preached on just a few weeks ago. 1 Kings 19:10-12. Go read it. Basically, this is a fully functioning phone. Elijah had just gone off, telling God all of his "problems." And then, God spoke back. And Elijah must have had to take a breath or something, because he actually heard what God said.
You see, if I'm going to make it through life, I can't rely on a ghetto phone. I do that too often. Yes, there are times that I can unleash all my frustration and emotion on God. But there comes a point where I have to shut up and listen. Because so often God will be in that still small voice, telling me about his plan, his love, his forgiveness. And only by having a fully functioning phone, a fully functioning relationship with him, will I be able to actually hear him.
2/14/09
New Site; Same Blog
I'm moving my blog from wordpress to blogspot. Why? Several reasons. Ease. Reliability. Maybe I like the colors more here. Whatever the reason, this is going to be the new one. So I hope you follow me here and continue to pick up what I put down.
If not, and you check in on the old one, you'll probably get pretty bored reading the same post over and over. But if you're into that sort of thing...
If not, and you check in on the old one, you'll probably get pretty bored reading the same post over and over. But if you're into that sort of thing...
Following Todd Through Unfamiliar Waters
Todd Hamilton, Jimmy's best friend, is starting a blog called "Unfamiliar Waters". I can't think of a better person to give us insight on lessons that Jimmy taught through his example, his words, his life.
Jimmy's legacy will continue to live on in so many ways. This will be one of the best and most personal. Whether you knew Jimmy or not, follow Todd into the unfamiliar waters ahead and learn some great lessons about faith, family and friendship (and probably fishing).
Jimmy's legacy will continue to live on in so many ways. This will be one of the best and most personal. Whether you knew Jimmy or not, follow Todd into the unfamiliar waters ahead and learn some great lessons about faith, family and friendship (and probably fishing).
A Reminder in the Valley
(Originally posted 2/12/2009)
Yesterday was a great day! We all celebrated the life of our friend Jimmy York. And for those of us who heard it, Todd's eulogy for Jimmy was absolutely perfect. I don't know exactly how hard that was for him, but I know it was the hardest thing he's had to do. But God used him during that message, and it spoke volumes about Jimmy. I am so proud of the job Todd did in remembering his friend. What an honor to hear it!
Yesterday was also a very crappy day. Because for many, it marked the beginning of a life without a friend who meant so much to each of us. That beginning actually occured Saturday night. But yesterday, it became real for a lot of people.
Yes, Jimmy is home in heaven. Yes, we can have joy in knowing that he is on that mountaintop. But now, there is going to be a valley for us. For some, that valley is going to be easily traversed. For others, that valley is going to be deep and dark.
For Tricia, Braxton, Auston, Jimmy's parents and family; for Todd and Trena, Jeff and Ginger, Steve and Kim, Wayne and Jill, Mark and Libba, Carissa and me, Ray and Jazen; for Josh, Dan, Justin, Tianne, Sara, Kara, Mark, Deana, Carlotta, Terry and the entire Fellowship family; and for countless, countless others - the valley is going to be rough.
But I want to encourage all of you to continue looking up, even in the midst of the shadows; especailly in the midst of those shadows. That's not something that I think you need to be told. But a reminder can't hurt. Because each of us will greive in our own way, in our own time. Maybe you've gotten to the point of beginning that process for yourself. But as you face each day in this new life, trust that God will lead you. Because, as the Scriptures say:
He restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.
Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me... (Psalm 23:3-4).
Yesterday was a great day! We all celebrated the life of our friend Jimmy York. And for those of us who heard it, Todd's eulogy for Jimmy was absolutely perfect. I don't know exactly how hard that was for him, but I know it was the hardest thing he's had to do. But God used him during that message, and it spoke volumes about Jimmy. I am so proud of the job Todd did in remembering his friend. What an honor to hear it!
Yesterday was also a very crappy day. Because for many, it marked the beginning of a life without a friend who meant so much to each of us. That beginning actually occured Saturday night. But yesterday, it became real for a lot of people.
Yes, Jimmy is home in heaven. Yes, we can have joy in knowing that he is on that mountaintop. But now, there is going to be a valley for us. For some, that valley is going to be easily traversed. For others, that valley is going to be deep and dark.
For Tricia, Braxton, Auston, Jimmy's parents and family; for Todd and Trena, Jeff and Ginger, Steve and Kim, Wayne and Jill, Mark and Libba, Carissa and me, Ray and Jazen; for Josh, Dan, Justin, Tianne, Sara, Kara, Mark, Deana, Carlotta, Terry and the entire Fellowship family; and for countless, countless others - the valley is going to be rough.
But I want to encourage all of you to continue looking up, even in the midst of the shadows; especailly in the midst of those shadows. That's not something that I think you need to be told. But a reminder can't hurt. Because each of us will greive in our own way, in our own time. Maybe you've gotten to the point of beginning that process for yourself. But as you face each day in this new life, trust that God will lead you. Because, as the Scriptures say:
He restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.
Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me... (Psalm 23:3-4).
Jimmy and Todd
(Originally posted 2/8/2009)
I was supposed to go hunting today with Todd. The day was going to hopefully end with a cooler full of meat and some good memories of a nice hunt. Instead, I'm ending this day praying hard for Todd. Because last night, Jimmy died.
Maybe you know the story. Maybe you don't. But Jimmy and Todd were great friends. They worked together, ministered together, fished together, and (if there had been indoor plumbing at Todd's lease), they might have ended up hunting together. Though Jimmy probably would have just shown up to tell jokes more than actually hunt.
I can't put into words what this feels like tonight. Jimmy and Todd. To me, you don't get one without the other. They were together when I met them over 6 years ago. They were together when they took the chance to hire Carissa over 4 years ago. They were together when they led. Together when they laughed and joked. They were always together. Even when job responsibilities changed, they made the time to be together. They were the picture perfect definition of close friends.
And now, Jimmy's gone.
Although, Todd would be the first to tell you that Jimmy isn't gone. He's home. It's a shocking statement to say about someone who was just 33. And for the first time, as I write this, the tears are flowing. I guess I've been in shock. But I cry, not for Jimmy. He's better off than any of us. I cry for his wife, Tricia, and his two sons, Braxton and Auston. Of course. But I also cry for Todd and the many, many people who had a relationship with Jimmy that was just as special.
Jimmy was one of the most generous, caring people I've ever known. He was willing to open up and share anything with anyone. He was a great leader. A great man. A great example of what a deep, personal, intimate relationship with Jesus can do.
Jimmy will be missed. By Todd and so many others. But there's no doubt about it. The friendships that he left behind will continue to shine light on a dark world. And Jimmy's influence will continue to resonate through Fellowship Church and every single life he touched.
And although there won't be any more Jimmy and Todd together on earth, there's a special fishing hole in heaven waiting for Todd. And I bet Jimmy's got a line in the water already.
I was supposed to go hunting today with Todd. The day was going to hopefully end with a cooler full of meat and some good memories of a nice hunt. Instead, I'm ending this day praying hard for Todd. Because last night, Jimmy died.
Maybe you know the story. Maybe you don't. But Jimmy and Todd were great friends. They worked together, ministered together, fished together, and (if there had been indoor plumbing at Todd's lease), they might have ended up hunting together. Though Jimmy probably would have just shown up to tell jokes more than actually hunt.
I can't put into words what this feels like tonight. Jimmy and Todd. To me, you don't get one without the other. They were together when I met them over 6 years ago. They were together when they took the chance to hire Carissa over 4 years ago. They were together when they led. Together when they laughed and joked. They were always together. Even when job responsibilities changed, they made the time to be together. They were the picture perfect definition of close friends.
And now, Jimmy's gone.
Although, Todd would be the first to tell you that Jimmy isn't gone. He's home. It's a shocking statement to say about someone who was just 33. And for the first time, as I write this, the tears are flowing. I guess I've been in shock. But I cry, not for Jimmy. He's better off than any of us. I cry for his wife, Tricia, and his two sons, Braxton and Auston. Of course. But I also cry for Todd and the many, many people who had a relationship with Jimmy that was just as special.
Jimmy was one of the most generous, caring people I've ever known. He was willing to open up and share anything with anyone. He was a great leader. A great man. A great example of what a deep, personal, intimate relationship with Jesus can do.
Jimmy will be missed. By Todd and so many others. But there's no doubt about it. The friendships that he left behind will continue to shine light on a dark world. And Jimmy's influence will continue to resonate through Fellowship Church and every single life he touched.
And although there won't be any more Jimmy and Todd together on earth, there's a special fishing hole in heaven waiting for Todd. And I bet Jimmy's got a line in the water already.
How to Hit Homeruns
(Originally posted 1/29/2009)
"I swing as hard as I can, and I try to swing right through the ball. The harder you grip the bat, the more you can swing it through the ball, and the farther the ball will go. I swing big, with everything I've got. I hit big or I miss big. I like to live as big as I can."
I've thought about that answer before. But I never really connected the dots with why that answer meant so much to me. But as I reflect on that statement now, it makes me think of another statement spoken many years ago. Only this statement is more than an answer to the secret of hitting homeruns. It's the secret to living "as big as I can."
Jesus said in John 10:10, "I have come that they may have life and have it abundantly."
You want to live big? You want to hit homeruns every day? Then hold on with faith to Christ as hard as you can. And let him do the swinging for you.
A lot of people don't know this, but my grandfather gave me Babe Ruth's autograph when I was 12 years old. It was the single greatest gift I've ever been given - for obvious reasons and not-so-obvious reasons.
Yes, possessing one of the sport's world's most coveted authographs is amazing. There are times that I just stare at it in sheer disbelief. But there's more to it. When I got that autograph, I began a love affair with the New York Yankees and Babe Ruth - a love affair that continues to this day. I know, I know. You either love 'em or hate 'em. And I love 'em.
Because of that, I've read countless books and articles on both the Yankees and Babe Ruth. And in all the reading on Babe Ruth, one thing seemed to come up more than anything else. People, reporters, fans everywhere wanted to know his secret to hitting homeruns. They asked him about it all the time. This is one of his answers:
"I swing as hard as I can, and I try to swing right through the ball. The harder you grip the bat, the more you can swing it through the ball, and the farther the ball will go. I swing big, with everything I've got. I hit big or I miss big. I like to live as big as I can."
I've thought about that answer before. But I never really connected the dots with why that answer meant so much to me. But as I reflect on that statement now, it makes me think of another statement spoken many years ago. Only this statement is more than an answer to the secret of hitting homeruns. It's the secret to living "as big as I can."
Jesus said in John 10:10, "I have come that they may have life and have it abundantly."
You want to live big? You want to hit homeruns every day? Then hold on with faith to Christ as hard as you can. And let him do the swinging for you.
Living. Together.
(Originally posted 1/28/2009)
I thought a quick game of friendly checkers before bed tonight would help. After all, we've hit a rough patch lately. Jackson and me that is. And tonight, the game was going really well. He was doing better than he's ever done before.
But in his eyes, getting better wasn't enough. He could only focus on the fact that, at one point during the game, he "could only move back and forth to one spot, Dad!"
Reminding him that the point of the game is to stay alive didn't help. In fact, that only added fuel to the fire. Because to him, staying alive is boring. There's more to the game than jumping back and forth between one spot. And that's when it hit me.
My son is just like me. To him, it's not enough to just stay alive.
Of course, that's something I knew about him. After all, I've had almost nine years with the kid. I'm pretty sure I know him by now. But the more I get to know him, the more I get to know myself. And maybe, just maybe, that's what is getting in the way of him and me lately. We've just been staying alive lately. So I think it's time that he and I start really living. Together.
I thought a quick game of friendly checkers before bed tonight would help. After all, we've hit a rough patch lately. Jackson and me that is. And tonight, the game was going really well. He was doing better than he's ever done before.
But in his eyes, getting better wasn't enough. He could only focus on the fact that, at one point during the game, he "could only move back and forth to one spot, Dad!"
Reminding him that the point of the game is to stay alive didn't help. In fact, that only added fuel to the fire. Because to him, staying alive is boring. There's more to the game than jumping back and forth between one spot. And that's when it hit me.
My son is just like me. To him, it's not enough to just stay alive.
Of course, that's something I knew about him. After all, I've had almost nine years with the kid. I'm pretty sure I know him by now. But the more I get to know him, the more I get to know myself. And maybe, just maybe, that's what is getting in the way of him and me lately. We've just been staying alive lately. So I think it's time that he and I start really living. Together.
I Have a Dream
(Originally posted 1/20/2009)
Jackson's class has been studying Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his dream. (*side note. Does it drive anyone else crazy when someone calls him Martin Luther King?) Anyway. The kids were given the assignment of writing a letter to their teacher talking about their own dreams.
And then, the teacher assigned the parents the greatest assignment I've ever been given as a parent. We were tasked with writing a letter to our children about our dreams for them.
So Carissa and I, late last night, sat down to write a letter to our oldest son explaining our dreams for his future. It was something that I thought wouldn't mean much, really. After all, this was just a school assignment, right? Wrong.
As we wrote the letter, all of the (for lack of a better word) crap that goes along with being the parent of an 8 year old boy disappeared. I wasn't concerned about the attitude, the eye rolls, the sarcasm. All I was concerned with was Jackson's future, and where I hope...no, scratch that. Where I know he can go and what he can accomplish.
As we wrote the letter, I was reminded of my call as a father, my responsiblity as a parent. And it made me reflect on my heavenly Father's role as the dreamer in my life.
God puts up with a lot of (for lack of a better word) crap from me. But He never, ever stops dreaming for me. I hope the same goes for me. I hope I never stop dreaming for Jackson. And I pray he never stops dreaming for himself.
Jackson's class has been studying Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his dream. (*side note. Does it drive anyone else crazy when someone calls him Martin Luther King?) Anyway. The kids were given the assignment of writing a letter to their teacher talking about their own dreams.
And then, the teacher assigned the parents the greatest assignment I've ever been given as a parent. We were tasked with writing a letter to our children about our dreams for them.
So Carissa and I, late last night, sat down to write a letter to our oldest son explaining our dreams for his future. It was something that I thought wouldn't mean much, really. After all, this was just a school assignment, right? Wrong.
As we wrote the letter, all of the (for lack of a better word) crap that goes along with being the parent of an 8 year old boy disappeared. I wasn't concerned about the attitude, the eye rolls, the sarcasm. All I was concerned with was Jackson's future, and where I hope...no, scratch that. Where I know he can go and what he can accomplish.
As we wrote the letter, I was reminded of my call as a father, my responsiblity as a parent. And it made me reflect on my heavenly Father's role as the dreamer in my life.
God puts up with a lot of (for lack of a better word) crap from me. But He never, ever stops dreaming for me. I hope the same goes for me. I hope I never stop dreaming for Jackson. And I pray he never stops dreaming for himself.
Think It Doesn't Matter? Think Again.
(Originally posted 1/14/2009)
If you don't think one simple act of kindness and faith matters, check out this video.
You never know what God will use to reach even the person furthest away from Him!
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7JHS8adO3hM&hl=en&fs=1]
If you don't think one simple act of kindness and faith matters, check out this video.
You never know what God will use to reach even the person furthest away from Him!
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7JHS8adO3hM&hl=en&fs=1]
Laughing at God
(Originally posted 1/13/2009)
Genesis 17:17 - "Abraham fell facedown; he laughed...."
Sometimes God says or does or promises something that to us seems so completely ridiculous and impossible that the only response we have is to laugh. It's not a mocking laugh. It's not an insulting laugh. It's not a laugh of unbelief or skepticism. It's a laugh of sheer amazement.
Nothing is impossible with God. And right now, that is such an encouragement to me. Nothing is impossible with God. So when God says He can or will do something, I can believe that it can or will be done. And just because I may not understand it doesn't mean it won't happen. Instead of scoffing or mocking Him, I can trust Him at His word. And the only response I may have is to fall down at His feet in awe and laugh in complete amazement.
When's the last time you laughed at God?
Genesis 17:17 - "Abraham fell facedown; he laughed...."
Sometimes God says or does or promises something that to us seems so completely ridiculous and impossible that the only response we have is to laugh. It's not a mocking laugh. It's not an insulting laugh. It's not a laugh of unbelief or skepticism. It's a laugh of sheer amazement.
Nothing is impossible with God. And right now, that is such an encouragement to me. Nothing is impossible with God. So when God says He can or will do something, I can believe that it can or will be done. And just because I may not understand it doesn't mean it won't happen. Instead of scoffing or mocking Him, I can trust Him at His word. And the only response I may have is to fall down at His feet in awe and laugh in complete amazement.
When's the last time you laughed at God?
Split Second Living
(Originally posted 1/7/2009)
I've heard that when someone is faced with impending danger, their life can flash before their eyes. In a split second. But how is it that an entire lifetime can be seen in a single second? Perhaps it's because all of life is lived in a split second. Not to say that a lifetime is lived in a single second. But every life is punctuated by split second moments of really living.
It's the living moments of life that come and go in the blink of an eye. And the reverberations from those moments are felt for a lifetime, and often beyond. To the uninterested party, those moments mean very little - until those moments happen to them.
Most of these split second moments are highlighted by a phrase, a string of just a few words that alone wouldn't have near the significance that they have together. They are the phrases that forever change the course of our lives, the phrases that echo in the canyon of existence and change the balance of who we are, where we're headed, and what we truly live for.
In my life, there have only been a few of those moments and phrases that truly stick out in my mind. And my life hasn't flashed before my eyes. But there are moments that God has allowed to happen in order to reveal much of who He is in my life and uncover many of the gifts that He has blessed me with. Now, these aren't necessarily in order of importance of occurence. But they are the moments that I thank God for. I hope they make you think of your own split second life...
"I do." (this one only happened once.)
"I love you." (this happens every day.)
"It's a boy." (this one happened twice!)
"In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit." (again, only once.)
"She'll be fine." (this one is being reinforced by God every moment and through every prayer right now.)
"If you need anything, let me know." (thank you to all of you for repeating this one in my life...)
I've heard that when someone is faced with impending danger, their life can flash before their eyes. In a split second. But how is it that an entire lifetime can be seen in a single second? Perhaps it's because all of life is lived in a split second. Not to say that a lifetime is lived in a single second. But every life is punctuated by split second moments of really living.
It's the living moments of life that come and go in the blink of an eye. And the reverberations from those moments are felt for a lifetime, and often beyond. To the uninterested party, those moments mean very little - until those moments happen to them.
Most of these split second moments are highlighted by a phrase, a string of just a few words that alone wouldn't have near the significance that they have together. They are the phrases that forever change the course of our lives, the phrases that echo in the canyon of existence and change the balance of who we are, where we're headed, and what we truly live for.
In my life, there have only been a few of those moments and phrases that truly stick out in my mind. And my life hasn't flashed before my eyes. But there are moments that God has allowed to happen in order to reveal much of who He is in my life and uncover many of the gifts that He has blessed me with. Now, these aren't necessarily in order of importance of occurence. But they are the moments that I thank God for. I hope they make you think of your own split second life...
"I do." (this one only happened once.)
"I love you." (this happens every day.)
"It's a boy." (this one happened twice!)
"In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit." (again, only once.)
"She'll be fine." (this one is being reinforced by God every moment and through every prayer right now.)
"If you need anything, let me know." (thank you to all of you for repeating this one in my life...)
www.iamsecond.com - Are You?
So I stumbled across this website. I saw a billboard for it, but forgot about it until this morning. Then, as I went through the testimonies, I was shocked and happy to see these two. Check them out. And tell me you don't root for these guys! And then, check out some of the other testmonies. And share them with people you know...
http://www.iamsecond.com/#/seconds/Greg_Ellis/
http://www.iamsecond.com/#/seconds/Josh_Hamilton/
http://www.iamsecond.com/#/seconds/Greg_Ellis/
http://www.iamsecond.com/#/seconds/Josh_Hamilton/
Top 10 Favorite Christmas Movies
(Originally posted 12/16/2008)
It's that time of year: time for the Christmas classics to be played over and over on the tube. In that spirit, here's a list of my favorite Christmastime movies, new and old. This isn't necessarily in order (other than #1). Just movies I hope to catch over the next few weeks:
1. A Christmas Story
2. Elf
3. Home Alone
4. A Wonderful Life
5. A Charlie Brown Christmas
6. A Christmas Carol
7. The Polar Express
8. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
9. Frosty the Snowman
10. A Christmas Story (Yeah, I know I put that twice. But it's totally worth it!)
It's that time of year: time for the Christmas classics to be played over and over on the tube. In that spirit, here's a list of my favorite Christmastime movies, new and old. This isn't necessarily in order (other than #1). Just movies I hope to catch over the next few weeks:
1. A Christmas Story
2. Elf
3. Home Alone
4. A Wonderful Life
5. A Charlie Brown Christmas
6. A Christmas Carol
7. The Polar Express
8. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer
9. Frosty the Snowman
10. A Christmas Story (Yeah, I know I put that twice. But it's totally worth it!)
A True Know-It-All
(Originally posted 12/6/2008)
My son Jackson is 8 years old. And he knows everything. At least, that's how it is in his own mind. But more than an average of once a day, I find myself reminding him that he does not, indeed, know everything. Yet, he continues to tell Carissa and me (and Parker) how the world works.
Sometimes, he's right. Sometimes, he's not. But it's not so much the fact that he thinks he knows everything. I want him to be confident in his knowledge. I want him to think he can know anything, that he can learn anything, that he can do anything. What gets to me is the prideful attitude that often accompanies that knowledge.
And as I look at him now, I finally understand the frustration my dad had when I was 8 (and 9, and 10, and 11, and...). And to a very, very small degree, I think I understand the frustration that God must feel every day with every one of us.
But here's the deal that I have to remind myself (not just my 8 year old son). No matter where I am in life; no matter how much life experience I have, I don't know it all. None of us does. We don't have the slightest clue.
Yet, at least in my own life, I think I know. I think I know what's best for me. I think I know how to please God (as if pleasing God was some noble pursuit that could earn me points with him). I think I know where I need to be and what I need to do.
But if I were completely honest, the only things I know are those things God has shown me. Some of that knowledge comes from life experience - through relationships and successes and failures. Some of that knowledge comes from learning - through reading and studying and observing. But ALL of that knowledge is only possible through God - through the opportunities that he gives me and what he shows me.
So as I go through life, I don't want to act like a know-it-all. Instead, I want to remain thankful for the knowledge God gives me. Because there isn't a know-it-all in the world (not even one who's 8 years old) that can give me what God can.
My son Jackson is 8 years old. And he knows everything. At least, that's how it is in his own mind. But more than an average of once a day, I find myself reminding him that he does not, indeed, know everything. Yet, he continues to tell Carissa and me (and Parker) how the world works.
Sometimes, he's right. Sometimes, he's not. But it's not so much the fact that he thinks he knows everything. I want him to be confident in his knowledge. I want him to think he can know anything, that he can learn anything, that he can do anything. What gets to me is the prideful attitude that often accompanies that knowledge.
And as I look at him now, I finally understand the frustration my dad had when I was 8 (and 9, and 10, and 11, and...). And to a very, very small degree, I think I understand the frustration that God must feel every day with every one of us.
But here's the deal that I have to remind myself (not just my 8 year old son). No matter where I am in life; no matter how much life experience I have, I don't know it all. None of us does. We don't have the slightest clue.
Yet, at least in my own life, I think I know. I think I know what's best for me. I think I know how to please God (as if pleasing God was some noble pursuit that could earn me points with him). I think I know where I need to be and what I need to do.
But if I were completely honest, the only things I know are those things God has shown me. Some of that knowledge comes from life experience - through relationships and successes and failures. Some of that knowledge comes from learning - through reading and studying and observing. But ALL of that knowledge is only possible through God - through the opportunities that he gives me and what he shows me.
So as I go through life, I don't want to act like a know-it-all. Instead, I want to remain thankful for the knowledge God gives me. Because there isn't a know-it-all in the world (not even one who's 8 years old) that can give me what God can.
Where I Need to Be
(Originally posted 12/2/2008)
I worry. It's just something I do. I worry about my family. I worry about my friends. I worry about my job. I worry about money. But I don't think I'm the only one. And today, when "they" "officially" announced that the country is in a recession, worry once again came knocking at the door.
What if I lose my job?
What if we have to sell our house?
What if I can't provide for my family?
What if...
What if...
What if...
(I hate those kind of what ifs.)
But then I picked up the Bible - the best place to turn in any situation, especially when I worry. And the first thing I read was Psalm 135:15-21. I've been reading the Psalms lately, mostly because I find comfort in knowing that I'm not the only one who feels what I feel. I need to know that. And God knows I need to know it.
He knows when I worry. He knows why I worry. And he knows exactly what I need to hear when I do. And so he reminded me this morning of something. The energy I use when I worry is wasted energy. It does little...no. That's not right. It does no good.
What I need to do is refocus that energy on praising God. Because only he can help me overcome my fear. Worry leads only to more worry. Praising God, however, leads to trust. Which leads to hope. Which leads me away from worry and back home, to him. Which is exactly where I need to be.
I worry. It's just something I do. I worry about my family. I worry about my friends. I worry about my job. I worry about money. But I don't think I'm the only one. And today, when "they" "officially" announced that the country is in a recession, worry once again came knocking at the door.
What if I lose my job?
What if we have to sell our house?
What if I can't provide for my family?
What if...
What if...
What if...
(I hate those kind of what ifs.)
But then I picked up the Bible - the best place to turn in any situation, especially when I worry. And the first thing I read was Psalm 135:15-21. I've been reading the Psalms lately, mostly because I find comfort in knowing that I'm not the only one who feels what I feel. I need to know that. And God knows I need to know it.
He knows when I worry. He knows why I worry. And he knows exactly what I need to hear when I do. And so he reminded me this morning of something. The energy I use when I worry is wasted energy. It does little...no. That's not right. It does no good.
What I need to do is refocus that energy on praising God. Because only he can help me overcome my fear. Worry leads only to more worry. Praising God, however, leads to trust. Which leads to hope. Which leads me away from worry and back home, to him. Which is exactly where I need to be.
All Day, Baby! All Day...
(Originally posted 11/16/2008)
You hear about this kind of thing. You never really witness it yourself. Well, almost never. We have. Twice. Once was during basketball season, which I'll have to fill you in on at some later date. And I would have written about this latest episode sooner, but it took a while to wrap my brain around it.
We were leaving one of Jackson's baseball practices, which were held at a park that also hosts Pop Warner football. On this particular day, there was a game on one of those fields. And as we walked past it, we saw one of the teams score a touchdown. It was a "long" run play (maybe 15 or 20 yards at most). And the parents celebrated. Great.
But then, what we heard after the general celebration rivaled even the most boisterous and fanatical of college football celebrations on ESPN. I don't remember which teams were playing. It doesn't really matter. Because the kids are maybe 10 years old. But all of a sudden, as this kid crossed the goal line, the sideline erupted. Literally.
Now, I'm all for celebrating the successes of our children. Heck, I cheered louder than anyone each time Jackson had a hit this season. But there comes a point... a tipping point... when the celebration becomes, shall I say, a little much.
That tipping point may vary as kids get older and the level of competition increases. But I'd definitely have to say it's gone overboard at this age when the celebration erupts into a cacophony of yells, high-fives, bullhorn sirens and chest bumps (oh, yeah... chest bumps).
But the icing on the cake was what I heard shouted from (I'm assuming) one of the coaches as he glared across the field at his opposition. After bumping chests with another full grown man, this man, who may well have been the kid's father, yelled at the top of his lungs, "All day, baby! All day!" (Picture this complete with a red face and veins popping out of his neck.)
Now, maybe it's just me. But when did pee-wee leagues become acceptable platforms on which to display the most idiotic behavior on the part of parents? But more importantly, how in the world can anyone expect kids to display good sportsmanship if the people raising those kids can't even hold it together themselves?!
You hear about this kind of thing. You never really witness it yourself. Well, almost never. We have. Twice. Once was during basketball season, which I'll have to fill you in on at some later date. And I would have written about this latest episode sooner, but it took a while to wrap my brain around it.
We were leaving one of Jackson's baseball practices, which were held at a park that also hosts Pop Warner football. On this particular day, there was a game on one of those fields. And as we walked past it, we saw one of the teams score a touchdown. It was a "long" run play (maybe 15 or 20 yards at most). And the parents celebrated. Great.
But then, what we heard after the general celebration rivaled even the most boisterous and fanatical of college football celebrations on ESPN. I don't remember which teams were playing. It doesn't really matter. Because the kids are maybe 10 years old. But all of a sudden, as this kid crossed the goal line, the sideline erupted. Literally.
Now, I'm all for celebrating the successes of our children. Heck, I cheered louder than anyone each time Jackson had a hit this season. But there comes a point... a tipping point... when the celebration becomes, shall I say, a little much.
That tipping point may vary as kids get older and the level of competition increases. But I'd definitely have to say it's gone overboard at this age when the celebration erupts into a cacophony of yells, high-fives, bullhorn sirens and chest bumps (oh, yeah... chest bumps).
But the icing on the cake was what I heard shouted from (I'm assuming) one of the coaches as he glared across the field at his opposition. After bumping chests with another full grown man, this man, who may well have been the kid's father, yelled at the top of his lungs, "All day, baby! All day!" (Picture this complete with a red face and veins popping out of his neck.)
Now, maybe it's just me. But when did pee-wee leagues become acceptable platforms on which to display the most idiotic behavior on the part of parents? But more importantly, how in the world can anyone expect kids to display good sportsmanship if the people raising those kids can't even hold it together themselves?!
Amazing Sex!
(Originally posted 11/13/2008)
The press coverage for Ed Young's 7 Days of Sex challenge has been amazing. But it doesn't compare with the work God will do in so many marriages!
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPOhQ-nHNfI&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b]
The press coverage for Ed Young's 7 Days of Sex challenge has been amazing. But it doesn't compare with the work God will do in so many marriages!
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPOhQ-nHNfI&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b]
No Greater Love
(Originally posted 11/10/2008)
It's been more than 10 years since I was in the Marine Corps. And since that time, a lot of people have asked me a lot of questions about it. And they usually ask the typical questions. "What did you do? Where did you live? Did you travel? Was it difficult? Would you do it again? Do you keep in touch with the guys you knew? Did you get any tattoos? Is that where you met Carissa?"
But the question people rarely ask, if ever, is, "What's the most valuable lesson you learned from your time in the Corps?"
I think most people expect Marines to learn things like how to shoot a fully automatic machine gun, hike a million miles, eat crappy food in thirty seconds or less, shave your head and salute officers. And while they look at the guys in the picture above proudly, they don't have a full understanding of what's under the uniform.
I think it comes down to the fact that while most people can recognize the aspects of the Corps, they so often miss the essence of the Corps. And that's fine. It's difficult to appreciate all that is involved in something you haven't done or been yourself. But I want to try to answer the question so you can have a deeper understanding and appreciation the next time you see a Marine in uniform at the airport coming home from war...or headed to war.
What I learned (besides how to shoot a fully automatic machine gun, hike a million miles, eat crappy food in thirty seconds or less, shave my head and salute officers) is that there still exists such a thing as selfless love and devotion for country.
If you listen to the media, you'll hear how our country is tired of fighting "other people's" wars. If you read what the "experts" have to say, you may convince yourself that the best thing to do is pull the troops out of harm's way now. But if you ask the men and women serving, I'm convinced that you would get a very different picture.
See, every person in the Corps wakes up each day, whether they are in a war zone or not, ready to fight and die if needed for their friends and their country. Sure, they quarrel amongst themselves. What family doesn't? Sure, they may complain about what they're doing while they're doing it. You would too if you lived in the desert without seeing your family for months at a time.
But when it comes down to it, every Marine is there, willing to lay down his life for someone else in order to serve the greater good. And I'm pretty sure there's no greater love than that (John 15:13).
It's been more than 10 years since I was in the Marine Corps. And since that time, a lot of people have asked me a lot of questions about it. And they usually ask the typical questions. "What did you do? Where did you live? Did you travel? Was it difficult? Would you do it again? Do you keep in touch with the guys you knew? Did you get any tattoos? Is that where you met Carissa?"
But the question people rarely ask, if ever, is, "What's the most valuable lesson you learned from your time in the Corps?"
I think most people expect Marines to learn things like how to shoot a fully automatic machine gun, hike a million miles, eat crappy food in thirty seconds or less, shave your head and salute officers. And while they look at the guys in the picture above proudly, they don't have a full understanding of what's under the uniform.
I think it comes down to the fact that while most people can recognize the aspects of the Corps, they so often miss the essence of the Corps. And that's fine. It's difficult to appreciate all that is involved in something you haven't done or been yourself. But I want to try to answer the question so you can have a deeper understanding and appreciation the next time you see a Marine in uniform at the airport coming home from war...or headed to war.
What I learned (besides how to shoot a fully automatic machine gun, hike a million miles, eat crappy food in thirty seconds or less, shave my head and salute officers) is that there still exists such a thing as selfless love and devotion for country.
If you listen to the media, you'll hear how our country is tired of fighting "other people's" wars. If you read what the "experts" have to say, you may convince yourself that the best thing to do is pull the troops out of harm's way now. But if you ask the men and women serving, I'm convinced that you would get a very different picture.
See, every person in the Corps wakes up each day, whether they are in a war zone or not, ready to fight and die if needed for their friends and their country. Sure, they quarrel amongst themselves. What family doesn't? Sure, they may complain about what they're doing while they're doing it. You would too if you lived in the desert without seeing your family for months at a time.
But when it comes down to it, every Marine is there, willing to lay down his life for someone else in order to serve the greater good. And I'm pretty sure there's no greater love than that (John 15:13).
A Change in Perspective
(Originally posted 11/4/2008)
I took a walk today down a trail that I've walked and run hundreds of times. It's a beautiful, 3/4 of a mile path around the lake at church that winds through trees and bushes and disguises the reality that I'm in the middle of one of the country's largest metropolitan areas.
I've been on that trail so often that I know what's coming. I remember what's around each corner. I know what to expect. But as I walked around the first bend today, I began to see it differently than I ever had before.
I don't know if it's because I walked slower or because the leaves were falling or because the light in the atmosphere was a different hue than usual. But whatever it was, something suddenly became clear.
All of a sudden I wasn't just seeing a gravel path. What I was seeing was a picture of life.
This wasn't some weird, mystical experience that gave me a new take on the direction or meaning of my life. But it was a moment in which God revealed, or rather reminded me of something.
See, a lot of the time, I know what to expect in life. After doing the same things day in and day out, everything becomes routine. The danger in that, though, is that the routine can become monotonous. And when that happens, life loses it's excitement.
But that's the exact opposite of what I've been striving for over the past 2 years. See, I want to make every day life an adventure. And the first step is getting back to seeing things differently, from God's eyes.
I took a walk today down a trail that I've walked and run hundreds of times. It's a beautiful, 3/4 of a mile path around the lake at church that winds through trees and bushes and disguises the reality that I'm in the middle of one of the country's largest metropolitan areas.
I've been on that trail so often that I know what's coming. I remember what's around each corner. I know what to expect. But as I walked around the first bend today, I began to see it differently than I ever had before.
I don't know if it's because I walked slower or because the leaves were falling or because the light in the atmosphere was a different hue than usual. But whatever it was, something suddenly became clear.
All of a sudden I wasn't just seeing a gravel path. What I was seeing was a picture of life.
This wasn't some weird, mystical experience that gave me a new take on the direction or meaning of my life. But it was a moment in which God revealed, or rather reminded me of something.
Life is all about perspective.
See, a lot of the time, I know what to expect in life. After doing the same things day in and day out, everything becomes routine. The danger in that, though, is that the routine can become monotonous. And when that happens, life loses it's excitement.
But that's the exact opposite of what I've been striving for over the past 2 years. See, I want to make every day life an adventure. And the first step is getting back to seeing things differently, from God's eyes.
No Matter Who Wins
(Origianlly posted 11/3/2009)
I have to get this out there. I'm tired of all the Eddie Vedders, Robert Redfords, Rush Limbaughs, Bill O'Reillys, Bill Mahers, Jane Fondas, Barbara Streisands and all the others out there who are ripping this country apart. And I'm especially sick of the ones who threaten to leave the country if a certain candidate wins.
You're going to leave the country that made you filthy rich because a certain politician may be put in place? Really? Well, so far, none of them have fulfilled their promises from four years ago to leave. Guess they saw the light...or at least they saw another check arrive at their American address. I'm sorry. But it's ridiculous. I wonder:
What hope does our country have of getting back on track after the election if we continue to completely derail one another before the election?
We have different political parties in this country for a reason. And that reason is not to rip apart or degrade some other group of people because they don't have the same opinion as we do. It's not to point fingers and blame the other. It's not to threaten to move if we don't get our way. (How much does that sound like the behavior of a two year old?) And it's not to instill fear about what might happen if....
What it comes down to is this. We're choosing between two men who have different experiences, different qualifications, different backgrounds and different opinions on how to best run the country. And the one who identifies with the most people wins. Period.
But here's the rub. What if your candidate doesn't win? Where are you going to put your trust then? Are you going to throw up your hands and scream that the world is coming to an end (which, if you're a Christian, will be a good thing anyway).
Or are you going to continue to put your faith in the fact that God's truth will not ever change, no matter who wins tomorrow.
I have to get this out there. I'm tired of all the Eddie Vedders, Robert Redfords, Rush Limbaughs, Bill O'Reillys, Bill Mahers, Jane Fondas, Barbara Streisands and all the others out there who are ripping this country apart. And I'm especially sick of the ones who threaten to leave the country if a certain candidate wins.
You're going to leave the country that made you filthy rich because a certain politician may be put in place? Really? Well, so far, none of them have fulfilled their promises from four years ago to leave. Guess they saw the light...or at least they saw another check arrive at their American address. I'm sorry. But it's ridiculous. I wonder:
What hope does our country have of getting back on track after the election if we continue to completely derail one another before the election?
We have different political parties in this country for a reason. And that reason is not to rip apart or degrade some other group of people because they don't have the same opinion as we do. It's not to point fingers and blame the other. It's not to threaten to move if we don't get our way. (How much does that sound like the behavior of a two year old?) And it's not to instill fear about what might happen if....
What it comes down to is this. We're choosing between two men who have different experiences, different qualifications, different backgrounds and different opinions on how to best run the country. And the one who identifies with the most people wins. Period.
But here's the rub. What if your candidate doesn't win? Where are you going to put your trust then? Are you going to throw up your hands and scream that the world is coming to an end (which, if you're a Christian, will be a good thing anyway).
Or are you going to continue to put your faith in the fact that God's truth will not ever change, no matter who wins tomorrow.
A Growing Trend
(Originally posted 10/31/2008)
We've been taking the boys to the pumpkin patch since they were tiny. And we did all the typical stuff when they were little:
Sat them on top of a pile of pumpkins;
sat them in our laps while we sat on a pile of pumpkins.
Sat them on top of a pile of hay;
sat them on our laps while we sat on top of a pile of hay.
Sat them on a tractor;
sat them on our laps while we sat on the tractor.
Notice a trend? Well, that trend is over in our family.
This year, the only reason we went to the pumpkin patch was because of the corn maze. See, we tried to go last year, but we didn't have any cash on us. And we didn't realize that they charge you $5 a pop to walk through their torn up corn field (yeah, yeah, we should've known).
Well, this year, we showed up with cash in hand. And I have to say, the corn maze wasn't half bad. Not sure it was worth $20, but the kids had fun. At least in the maze.
But when we got out of the maze, that's when Carissa and I realized it. We aren't the typical family at that place anymore. Our kids were bigger than most there. And they got bored quickly.
Of the 28 photo op spots (yes, I counted), exactly one was of any interest to the boys - the actual tractor. At least that was the case until we started letting them jump off of the photo op spots. And sadly, I'm pretty sure that's losing its allure quickly.
So I started thinking: does this mean next year it's a haunted house instead of the pumpkin patch? Guess we'll see...
We've been taking the boys to the pumpkin patch since they were tiny. And we did all the typical stuff when they were little:
Sat them on top of a pile of pumpkins;
sat them in our laps while we sat on a pile of pumpkins.
Sat them on top of a pile of hay;
sat them on our laps while we sat on top of a pile of hay.
Sat them on a tractor;
sat them on our laps while we sat on the tractor.
Notice a trend? Well, that trend is over in our family.
This year, the only reason we went to the pumpkin patch was because of the corn maze. See, we tried to go last year, but we didn't have any cash on us. And we didn't realize that they charge you $5 a pop to walk through their torn up corn field (yeah, yeah, we should've known).
Well, this year, we showed up with cash in hand. And I have to say, the corn maze wasn't half bad. Not sure it was worth $20, but the kids had fun. At least in the maze.
But when we got out of the maze, that's when Carissa and I realized it. We aren't the typical family at that place anymore. Our kids were bigger than most there. And they got bored quickly.
Of the 28 photo op spots (yes, I counted), exactly one was of any interest to the boys - the actual tractor. At least that was the case until we started letting them jump off of the photo op spots. And sadly, I'm pretty sure that's losing its allure quickly.
So I started thinking: does this mean next year it's a haunted house instead of the pumpkin patch? Guess we'll see...
What Do You Expect?
(Originally posted 10/30/2008)
Think about the millions of expectations that come with living. When we're children, we're expected to sit quietly, do our work, mind our manners and not pick our noses (at least not in public).
When we're teenagers, we're expected to follow the rules, listen to those who are wiser than we are, hold our tongues and (at least try to) make it home by curfew. And on the other hand, the unspoken expectation is that we'll rebel.
When we're young adults, we're expected to decide our life's destination, follow the standard protocol for reaching that goal and not speed or let the grass get too tall in the front yard.
And as we get older, we're expected to have learned from life and pass those lessons on to others, even though they probably won't listen because they know so much more than we did at that age.
I was thinking about all those expectations. And I boiled it down to this. The goal of all of those is for us to blend in. We're expected to be one of the crowd. Somewhere, somehow, we become convinced that we must meet everyone else's expectations in order to make it through life. Becuase if we don't, we just might stick out. And when we stick out, we run the risk of too many terrible things. Things we don't dare subject ourselves to. Things like being made fun of, being talked about, and actually being ... noticed.
But as I think about all the expectations that I've met in my life, and even those I haven't, I wonder: how much of my life is the sum total of expectations of other people?
I don't want to live based on other people's expectations. Because when I do, sure, I fit in. But I also lose who I'm designed to be. And then others dictate where I go, what I do, how I live. I don't want to live that way.
I want to live based on God's expectations, because he doesn't have the same expectations for me that others have. Oh, sure, he expects me to grow and learn and be responsible and not speed and pay my taxes and not pick my nose (in public at least).
But I think his biggest expectation for me is that I look to him first. Not second. Not forty-fourth. And certainly not last. So every day, I want to start off not looking to the expectations of others. I want to look to God and ask him, "What do you expect?"
Think about the millions of expectations that come with living. When we're children, we're expected to sit quietly, do our work, mind our manners and not pick our noses (at least not in public).
When we're teenagers, we're expected to follow the rules, listen to those who are wiser than we are, hold our tongues and (at least try to) make it home by curfew. And on the other hand, the unspoken expectation is that we'll rebel.
When we're young adults, we're expected to decide our life's destination, follow the standard protocol for reaching that goal and not speed or let the grass get too tall in the front yard.
And as we get older, we're expected to have learned from life and pass those lessons on to others, even though they probably won't listen because they know so much more than we did at that age.
I was thinking about all those expectations. And I boiled it down to this. The goal of all of those is for us to blend in. We're expected to be one of the crowd. Somewhere, somehow, we become convinced that we must meet everyone else's expectations in order to make it through life. Becuase if we don't, we just might stick out. And when we stick out, we run the risk of too many terrible things. Things we don't dare subject ourselves to. Things like being made fun of, being talked about, and actually being ... noticed.
But as I think about all the expectations that I've met in my life, and even those I haven't, I wonder: how much of my life is the sum total of expectations of other people?
I don't want to live based on other people's expectations. Because when I do, sure, I fit in. But I also lose who I'm designed to be. And then others dictate where I go, what I do, how I live. I don't want to live that way.
I want to live based on God's expectations, because he doesn't have the same expectations for me that others have. Oh, sure, he expects me to grow and learn and be responsible and not speed and pay my taxes and not pick my nose (in public at least).
But I think his biggest expectation for me is that I look to him first. Not second. Not forty-fourth. And certainly not last. So every day, I want to start off not looking to the expectations of others. I want to look to God and ask him, "What do you expect?"
It May Be Little League, But...
(Originally posted 10/29/2008)
Jackson's first season of Little League baseball is winding down. We (as if I played) were 7-1-1 during the "regular" season and are 1-0 in the playoffs so far. We won last night 11-1.
Throughout this season, I've kept up with Jackson's stats at the plate. (For the record, he's 10 for 20 with 3 homeruns, two of which were legit). Maybe I took it a little too far. But the kid's good; I just wanted to track how good.
Now I don't have delusions of him starting one day at center field for the Yankees or anything (maybe the Rangers, but not the Yankees). But this is a sport that just seems to come naturally to him. And he enjoys it.
But last night, as I watched him step up to bat in the 2nd inning, something dawned on me. I saw something more than a kid enjoying a game. As he walked up to the batter's box, all of a sudden, my little boy wasn't so little anymore. He stood there at the plate, eyes focused on the ball, and he swung the bat. Hard. This wasn't the swing of a little kid hoping against hope to hit the ball. This was a swing of a boy who's becoming something...bigger.
Yes, there are many times that he still resembles that little boy who used to say, "Moot me, Nootney" rather than, "Excuse me, Courtney." Yes, there are still many times that the immaturity rings loud and true through the hallway.
But last night, as he focused on that ball, I saw a glimpse of a strong, determined, focused, driven young... man, I can't believe I'm saying this... man.
Jackson's first season of Little League baseball is winding down. We (as if I played) were 7-1-1 during the "regular" season and are 1-0 in the playoffs so far. We won last night 11-1.
Throughout this season, I've kept up with Jackson's stats at the plate. (For the record, he's 10 for 20 with 3 homeruns, two of which were legit). Maybe I took it a little too far. But the kid's good; I just wanted to track how good.
Now I don't have delusions of him starting one day at center field for the Yankees or anything (maybe the Rangers, but not the Yankees). But this is a sport that just seems to come naturally to him. And he enjoys it.
But last night, as I watched him step up to bat in the 2nd inning, something dawned on me. I saw something more than a kid enjoying a game. As he walked up to the batter's box, all of a sudden, my little boy wasn't so little anymore. He stood there at the plate, eyes focused on the ball, and he swung the bat. Hard. This wasn't the swing of a little kid hoping against hope to hit the ball. This was a swing of a boy who's becoming something...bigger.
Yes, there are many times that he still resembles that little boy who used to say, "Moot me, Nootney" rather than, "Excuse me, Courtney." Yes, there are still many times that the immaturity rings loud and true through the hallway.
But last night, as he focused on that ball, I saw a glimpse of a strong, determined, focused, driven young... man, I can't believe I'm saying this... man.
32 Things
(Originally posted 10/28/2008)
1. I love dogs.
2. I once got hit in the nose by a baseball.
3. I've been shaving my head for 12 1/2 years.
4. I want to climb Mt. Rainier and Denali in the next 3-5 years.
5. I once met a man who was literally left for dead on Mt. Everest.
6. I like hip-hop music.
7. I once did a break dancing skit for a talent show with my best friend (we were 10).
8. My favorite moment in the day is the moment my wife hugs me.
9. I'm eating a turkey sandwich.
10. I love cutting the grass (a little too much.)
11. I have 9 first cousins and 4 second cousins.
12. I once owned a motorcycle. A Kawasaki Ninja.
13. I used to wrorry that my knees were knobby.
14. I love Mountain Dew.
15. I want to make a difference.
16. I once hit my brother in the face with a rock (it was an accident).
17. I want my kids to have more than I did.
18. I was baptized on 1/20/02 (with my wife).
19. I want to live in the Northwest.
20. I have 5 tattoos.
21. I played the piano for 10 years.
22. My parents are divorced.
23. I'm SCUBA certified (though it's expired).
24. I want to learn to play the guitar.
25. Sometimes I wish I had hair.
26. I collect journals.
27. I probably have typos in this list.
28. I never played organized football.
29. I'm writing a class on Acts.
30. I run the Turkey Trot each year with my dad.
31. If I was stranded on an island and could only have one thing, it would be a fully charged satellite phone.
32. I'm done eating the turkey sandwich, which means it's time to get back to work.
1. I love dogs.
2. I once got hit in the nose by a baseball.
3. I've been shaving my head for 12 1/2 years.
4. I want to climb Mt. Rainier and Denali in the next 3-5 years.
5. I once met a man who was literally left for dead on Mt. Everest.
6. I like hip-hop music.
7. I once did a break dancing skit for a talent show with my best friend (we were 10).
8. My favorite moment in the day is the moment my wife hugs me.
9. I'm eating a turkey sandwich.
10. I love cutting the grass (a little too much.)
11. I have 9 first cousins and 4 second cousins.
12. I once owned a motorcycle. A Kawasaki Ninja.
13. I used to wrorry that my knees were knobby.
14. I love Mountain Dew.
15. I want to make a difference.
16. I once hit my brother in the face with a rock (it was an accident).
17. I want my kids to have more than I did.
18. I was baptized on 1/20/02 (with my wife).
19. I want to live in the Northwest.
20. I have 5 tattoos.
21. I played the piano for 10 years.
22. My parents are divorced.
23. I'm SCUBA certified (though it's expired).
24. I want to learn to play the guitar.
25. Sometimes I wish I had hair.
26. I collect journals.
27. I probably have typos in this list.
28. I never played organized football.
29. I'm writing a class on Acts.
30. I run the Turkey Trot each year with my dad.
31. If I was stranded on an island and could only have one thing, it would be a fully charged satellite phone.
32. I'm done eating the turkey sandwich, which means it's time to get back to work.
Base
(Originally posted 10/28/2008)
You think you've found the perfect spot. And while you're there, your heart starts racing, your breath quickens and your eyes bug out, straining to see in the dark. Then you hear the words.
"...8...9...10. Ready or not, here I come!"
But you've found the perfect spot to hide; no need to worry. After all, no one would EVER think to look inside your closet (or under your covers, or behind the bathtub curtain, or...). You're safe.
But then they open the door (or pull back the covers or tear open the curtain). And that's when it begins. The race back to base.
Anyone who's played hide 'n' seek knows the value of base. It's a place of security, assurance, safety.
I was reading Ecclesiastes this morning. (how's that for a transition?) And 35 times in that book, Solomon uses the word "meaningless." According to Solomon, everything is meaningless. In other words, it doesn't matter where we hide.
And then, in the middle of his rant about how meaningless everything is, he writes, "...everything God does will endure forever..." (Ecc. 3:14).
I think what Solomon was saying is that God is base. And without that base, there is no security. There is no assurance. There is no safety. There is no point.
If God is not my base, I end up living every day with my heart pounding out of fear, my breath shortened by anxiety and my eyes bugging out, straining to see any hint of light in a dark world.
But I'm thankful, because I have been found. Christ has opened the door, pulled back the covers and torn open the curtain. And although he's had to chase me around corners and down halls sometimes, he's delivered me back to base. And I've discovered security, assurance, safety, and a point. And the point isn't me.
It's God.
You think you've found the perfect spot. And while you're there, your heart starts racing, your breath quickens and your eyes bug out, straining to see in the dark. Then you hear the words.
"...8...9...10. Ready or not, here I come!"
But you've found the perfect spot to hide; no need to worry. After all, no one would EVER think to look inside your closet (or under your covers, or behind the bathtub curtain, or...). You're safe.
But then they open the door (or pull back the covers or tear open the curtain). And that's when it begins. The race back to base.
Anyone who's played hide 'n' seek knows the value of base. It's a place of security, assurance, safety.
I was reading Ecclesiastes this morning. (how's that for a transition?) And 35 times in that book, Solomon uses the word "meaningless." According to Solomon, everything is meaningless. In other words, it doesn't matter where we hide.
And then, in the middle of his rant about how meaningless everything is, he writes, "...everything God does will endure forever..." (Ecc. 3:14).
I think what Solomon was saying is that God is base. And without that base, there is no security. There is no assurance. There is no safety. There is no point.
If God is not my base, I end up living every day with my heart pounding out of fear, my breath shortened by anxiety and my eyes bugging out, straining to see any hint of light in a dark world.
But I'm thankful, because I have been found. Christ has opened the door, pulled back the covers and torn open the curtain. And although he's had to chase me around corners and down halls sometimes, he's delivered me back to base. And I've discovered security, assurance, safety, and a point. And the point isn't me.
It's God.
Base
(Originally posted 10/28/2008)
You think you've found the perfect spot. And while you're there, your heart starts racing, your breath quickens and your eyes bug out, straining to see in the dark. Then you hear the words.
"...8...9...10. Ready or not, here I come!"
But you've found the perfect spot to hide; no need to worry. After all, no one would EVER think to look inside your closet (or under your covers, or behind the bathtub curtain, or...). You're safe.
But then they open the door (or pull back the covers or tear open the curtain). And that's when it begins. The race back to base.
Anyone who's played hide 'n' seek knows the value of base. It's a place of security, assurance, safety.
I was reading Ecclesiastes this morning. (how's that for a transition?) And 35 times in that book, Solomon uses the word "meaningless." According to Solomon, everything is meaningless. In other words, it doesn't matter where we hide.
And then, in the middle of his rant about how meaningless everything is, he writes, "...everything God does will endure forever..." (Ecc. 3:14).
I think what Solomon was saying is that God is base. And without that base, there is no security. There is no assurance. There is no safety. There is no point.
If God is not my base, I end up living every day with my heart pounding out of fear, my breath shortened by anxiety and my eyes bugging out, straining to see any hint of light in a dark world.
But I'm thankful, because I have been found. Christ has opened the door, pulled back the covers and torn open the curtain. And although he's had to chase me around corners and down halls sometimes, he's delivered me back to base. And I've discovered security, assurance, safety, and a point. And the point isn't me.
It's God.
You think you've found the perfect spot. And while you're there, your heart starts racing, your breath quickens and your eyes bug out, straining to see in the dark. Then you hear the words.
"...8...9...10. Ready or not, here I come!"
But you've found the perfect spot to hide; no need to worry. After all, no one would EVER think to look inside your closet (or under your covers, or behind the bathtub curtain, or...). You're safe.
But then they open the door (or pull back the covers or tear open the curtain). And that's when it begins. The race back to base.
Anyone who's played hide 'n' seek knows the value of base. It's a place of security, assurance, safety.
I was reading Ecclesiastes this morning. (how's that for a transition?) And 35 times in that book, Solomon uses the word "meaningless." According to Solomon, everything is meaningless. In other words, it doesn't matter where we hide.
And then, in the middle of his rant about how meaningless everything is, he writes, "...everything God does will endure forever..." (Ecc. 3:14).
I think what Solomon was saying is that God is base. And without that base, there is no security. There is no assurance. There is no safety. There is no point.
If God is not my base, I end up living every day with my heart pounding out of fear, my breath shortened by anxiety and my eyes bugging out, straining to see any hint of light in a dark world.
But I'm thankful, because I have been found. Christ has opened the door, pulled back the covers and torn open the curtain. And although he's had to chase me around corners and down halls sometimes, he's delivered me back to base. And I've discovered security, assurance, safety, and a point. And the point isn't me.
It's God.
Am I Crazy?
(Originally posted 10/27/2008)
Mowing the grass. It's one of the simple things in my life that brings with it a sense of joy. Well, I just got done mowing the grass. But I think I may have taken it a step too far tonight.
See, to mow the grass, I have to get the mower out of the garage. To do that, I have to pull the car out of the garage. And rather than pull the car back into the garage while I cut the grass just to pull back out to put the mower away, I leave the car out.
Oh, I forgot to mention that one of the things I like most is seeing the fresh cut lawn as I pull up after work at the end of the day. But, I wasn't at work just now. I was mowing the grass. So...
After putting the mower back in its spot inside the (ahem...newly cleaned) garage, I wanted to drive by and see the lawn. So yes, I actually got in the car and drove around the block, just so I could drive by the house and see the fresh cut grass.
Am I crazy?
Mowing the grass. It's one of the simple things in my life that brings with it a sense of joy. Well, I just got done mowing the grass. But I think I may have taken it a step too far tonight.See, to mow the grass, I have to get the mower out of the garage. To do that, I have to pull the car out of the garage. And rather than pull the car back into the garage while I cut the grass just to pull back out to put the mower away, I leave the car out.
Oh, I forgot to mention that one of the things I like most is seeing the fresh cut lawn as I pull up after work at the end of the day. But, I wasn't at work just now. I was mowing the grass. So...
After putting the mower back in its spot inside the (ahem...newly cleaned) garage, I wanted to drive by and see the lawn. So yes, I actually got in the car and drove around the block, just so I could drive by the house and see the fresh cut grass.
Am I crazy?
Don't Vote Until You Watch This
(Originally posted 10/23/2008)
Politicked - Rock the Vote from Fellowship Church on Vimeo.
This is a powerful message from Ed Young this past weekend. And it's a message we all as voters desperately need to hear... and heed!
Politicked - Rock the Vote from Fellowship Church on Vimeo.
This is a powerful message from Ed Young this past weekend. And it's a message we all as voters desperately need to hear... and heed!
Toys 'R Us Kid
(Originally posted 10/22/2008)
I don't want to grow up, I'm a Toys 'R Us kid. There's a million toys at Toys 'R Us that I can play with. From bikes to trains to video games, it's the biggest toy store there is. I don't want to grow up, 'cause baby, if I did, I couldn't be a Toys 'R Us kid. (you know you want to sing it again ... go ahead!)
Now that you've sung it again (and it's in your head right now), you'll be singing it all day. For that, I apologize. But I really think that song fits my mentality right now. It's not necessarily the bikes or trains or video games. Ok, maybe it's the video games a little. But there's something about being a kid that is just ... electrifying and intoxicating. Think about it.
As children, we assume greatness is within our grasp. You see it on every little league field and dance studio. Every child dreams of becoming something bigger than themselves.
THAT'S what I miss about being a kid. Because somewhere along life's journey, we begin aquiescing toward mediocrity. We stop striving to become something bigger than ourselves. Sad, but true.
I never want to stop wanting to be something bigger. And I pray every day that God uses me for something bigger than myself. I want that for myself. I want that for my wife. I want that for my children.
I don't want to grow up, 'cause baby, if I did, I'd stop striving to be more than just a Toys 'R Us kid.
I don't want to grow up, I'm a Toys 'R Us kid. There's a million toys at Toys 'R Us that I can play with. From bikes to trains to video games, it's the biggest toy store there is. I don't want to grow up, 'cause baby, if I did, I couldn't be a Toys 'R Us kid. (you know you want to sing it again ... go ahead!)
Now that you've sung it again (and it's in your head right now), you'll be singing it all day. For that, I apologize. But I really think that song fits my mentality right now. It's not necessarily the bikes or trains or video games. Ok, maybe it's the video games a little. But there's something about being a kid that is just ... electrifying and intoxicating. Think about it.
As children, we assume greatness is within our grasp. You see it on every little league field and dance studio. Every child dreams of becoming something bigger than themselves.
THAT'S what I miss about being a kid. Because somewhere along life's journey, we begin aquiescing toward mediocrity. We stop striving to become something bigger than ourselves. Sad, but true.
I never want to stop wanting to be something bigger. And I pray every day that God uses me for something bigger than myself. I want that for myself. I want that for my wife. I want that for my children.
I don't want to grow up, 'cause baby, if I did, I'd stop striving to be more than just a Toys 'R Us kid.
My Vote
(Originally posted 10/21/2008)
It's no secret who I'm voting for. But over the past several weeks, I've really begun to ask why - something I think is vital for everyone to ask and answer. And as I've looked into why I'm voting for McCain, several reasons have come to mind.
Now, I know he's not perfect. But short of Jesus, no one is. And yes, there are things I disagree with McCain about. But no candidate is going to agree with me 100% of the time - not even if I ran (I'd disagree with myself sometimes).
So I've made my decision. It's based on the following thoughts and statements...things that have come to me through different venues and at different times and in different ways over the last few weeks.
1) I don't believe the media. This goes for both sides of of the dividing party line. I'm not going to base my vote on what Katie Courick (sp?), Rush Limbaugh, David Letterman or any other celebrity in the media says. Think about it. They get paid to sensationalize the stories. It's sad; but it's true. And I just plain don't believe them.
2) Our next Commander-in-Cheif absolutely has the obligation to be as strong as the people he sends out to die. This person will be the leader of a war, whether you like it or not. Troops will not be rushed off the front lines and back home in droves on November 5th. They'll still be in harm's way. And they need someone who has the guts to defend them and support them, not pull the rug out from under them.
3) I value life - even the unborn. This article is a little slanted, I admit. However, what you can't shrug off as slanted are Obama's own words. Read it and see for yourself. I don't vote on one issue alone. But this is a pretty big one.
Those are just three reasons. There are more. But consider those things. And then decide. Don't decide and then contemplate. Because then you'll end up like these people. Don't be them.
It's no secret who I'm voting for. But over the past several weeks, I've really begun to ask why - something I think is vital for everyone to ask and answer. And as I've looked into why I'm voting for McCain, several reasons have come to mind.
Now, I know he's not perfect. But short of Jesus, no one is. And yes, there are things I disagree with McCain about. But no candidate is going to agree with me 100% of the time - not even if I ran (I'd disagree with myself sometimes).
So I've made my decision. It's based on the following thoughts and statements...things that have come to me through different venues and at different times and in different ways over the last few weeks.
1) I don't believe the media. This goes for both sides of of the dividing party line. I'm not going to base my vote on what Katie Courick (sp?), Rush Limbaugh, David Letterman or any other celebrity in the media says. Think about it. They get paid to sensationalize the stories. It's sad; but it's true. And I just plain don't believe them.
2) Our next Commander-in-Cheif absolutely has the obligation to be as strong as the people he sends out to die. This person will be the leader of a war, whether you like it or not. Troops will not be rushed off the front lines and back home in droves on November 5th. They'll still be in harm's way. And they need someone who has the guts to defend them and support them, not pull the rug out from under them.
3) I value life - even the unborn. This article is a little slanted, I admit. However, what you can't shrug off as slanted are Obama's own words. Read it and see for yourself. I don't vote on one issue alone. But this is a pretty big one.
Those are just three reasons. There are more. But consider those things. And then decide. Don't decide and then contemplate. Because then you'll end up like these people. Don't be them.
"Oh, by the way..."
(Originally posted 10/21/2008)
So you have to understand an occurence in our house to really get where this one goes...or comes from. Parker, our youngest, is six. He's about 3 feet tall and maybe 35 pounds, soaking wet. But despite his small stature, one of his greatest pleasures in life is something that doesn't happen for people twice his size. Regularly (I'm talking multiple times a week), he, um, clogs up the toilet. It brings with it humor, an eye roll (on my part) and a massive smile from his little face. Maybe we need to buy an industrial strength toilet. I'm not sure. Anyway, I digress.
So we're all talking around the dinner table tonight. Nothing unusual. And I mention the fact that I've restarted my blog. So of course, that sparks interest. "Daddy, I want to see your blog." Ok. Oh, by the way, the first entry is humorously titled "#2". "Can you read it to us?" Sure. So I read it.
Then the jokes begin. The #2 jokes. You know the kind. The kind that aren't appropriate at the table, but are still really funny in a 3rd grade sort of way.
And that's when I hear it. It's the line that I'm rather used to hearing. It's from my lovely wife. The beautiful woman in the house who puts up with a lot with three males. It's a line that doesn't even need to be completed anymore, because I know how it ends. It's a line that I almost expect to hear every day when I walk through the door. It's a line that makes Parker smile and one that sends me straight down the hall to perform yet another job that no man should do as much as I have (unless his name is Joe).
"Oh, by the way...Parker clogged the toilet again."
I should have known when I entered the first blog today that this was going to happen. It had to.
And thus, you now have the first poo story of blog #2 (no pun intended).
So you have to understand an occurence in our house to really get where this one goes...or comes from. Parker, our youngest, is six. He's about 3 feet tall and maybe 35 pounds, soaking wet. But despite his small stature, one of his greatest pleasures in life is something that doesn't happen for people twice his size. Regularly (I'm talking multiple times a week), he, um, clogs up the toilet. It brings with it humor, an eye roll (on my part) and a massive smile from his little face. Maybe we need to buy an industrial strength toilet. I'm not sure. Anyway, I digress.
So we're all talking around the dinner table tonight. Nothing unusual. And I mention the fact that I've restarted my blog. So of course, that sparks interest. "Daddy, I want to see your blog." Ok. Oh, by the way, the first entry is humorously titled "#2". "Can you read it to us?" Sure. So I read it.
Then the jokes begin. The #2 jokes. You know the kind. The kind that aren't appropriate at the table, but are still really funny in a 3rd grade sort of way.
And that's when I hear it. It's the line that I'm rather used to hearing. It's from my lovely wife. The beautiful woman in the house who puts up with a lot with three males. It's a line that doesn't even need to be completed anymore, because I know how it ends. It's a line that I almost expect to hear every day when I walk through the door. It's a line that makes Parker smile and one that sends me straight down the hall to perform yet another job that no man should do as much as I have (unless his name is Joe).
"Oh, by the way...Parker clogged the toilet again."
I should have known when I entered the first blog today that this was going to happen. It had to.
And thus, you now have the first poo story of blog #2 (no pun intended).
#2
(Originally posted 10/2/2008)
So here it is. Blog #2. Not that it's poo. It's just the second run at my blog. Stay tuned for more posts about life, faith, marriage, parenthood, adventure and what it's like to be the father of 2 boys (which means there will actually be some posts about poo...)
So here it is. Blog #2. Not that it's poo. It's just the second run at my blog. Stay tuned for more posts about life, faith, marriage, parenthood, adventure and what it's like to be the father of 2 boys (which means there will actually be some posts about poo...)
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