Calling

My daughter went out to ride her bike in the parking lot. I watched her through the window for a few minutes and then turned my attention away. Looking back two minutes later I saw her bike parked in the driveway but she was not with it. 

.

Minutes later I still did not see her so I opened the front door and called for her. 

No answer. 

I walked to the back door, opened it and called for her. 

No answer. 

Walking through the house, back toward the front door, I called for her. 

No answer.  

Stepping out the front door, into the driveway, I called for her. 

No answer. 

Scanning the parking lot, the front yard, and the side yards, I called for her.

No answer.

Running to the back yard, looking in the pool and into the woods, I called for her.

No answer.

Back inside, frantically running from room to room, I called for her.

No answer.

Through the front door again, panicked in the front yard, I called for her.

No answer. 

.

Turning toward the swing set there she now stood - smiling and waving - without a word.

.

So I asked;

Did you hear me call for you?

Why didn’t you answer me?

.

And I wondered;

How often does God call for me?

How often do I hear Him call?

How often do I answer Him?

#preparetheway

Thursday

Thursday afternoon I returned home at exactly 2:45. Kim was taking the “big kids” to the library for some sort of children’s science program that started at 3:00 and had asked me to come home early. I came in, she loaded the kids up in the mini-van and mentioned that Korah was still taking her nap. What am I to do but head for my “home office” to take care of some business.

After putting in a good 30 minutes of “hard work” I flushed! The water began to turn, it continued to turn, and then it began to raise. Closer and closer it came to the brim as I scrambled for the closet where we – usually – keep the plunger. No plunger! I tear through the house, running first to our bathroom. No plunger! Running to the other end of the house I scramble into the girls’ bathroom. No plunger.

Forgetting all other options I run into the main bathroom – where the poo water is now flowing over the brim of the toilet and I throw three towels around the base of the commode. Then, buckling my pants, I sprint out the front door and head toward the church. Juggling to find the right key I enter the church and head straight to the men’s restroom, steal the plunger, and sprint – now out of breath – back to the house.

As I enter the house and turn toward the bathroom – water still pouring out of the commode – two questions occur to me; (1) “Why didn’t I turn the the water off at the toilet?” and (2) “Why is Lucy (our dog) drinking the poo water?”. Without hesitation I yell, “Lucy” at which point she rolls over to slather her fur in the river of solid waste flowing through the bathroom.

One plunge and the flow was done.

Relieved but still overwhelmed, I turn and scoop up Lucy - still laying on the floor like a submissive puppy - and I head for the back door. I throw Lucy outside and made my way toward the garage to find the shop vac.

Side note: In the midst of the running through the house, doors slamming, and me yelling “where’s the plunger” and “Lucy”, Korah had woken from her nap.

Now in the garage, I grab the shop vac – determined to stop the river of poo before it reaches the hallway – and I head back inside. Just as I turn the corner I see the only thing worse than our dog drinking my watered-down poo, my three-year old daughter laying in it! She woke up, and came looking for “mommy” but instead was greeted by dad’s feces.

Scooping Korah up off the floor – dripping wet I might add – I grab four more towels and lay them at the baseboard around the room.

The next hour included; 

1. a bath for Korah  
2. vacuum the bathroom
3. throw all bathroom “elements” outside
4. wash hands
5. call Kim and the kids and tell them to “take their time”
6. bleach the bathroom floor, toilet, walls, etc.
7. wash hands
8. a bath for Lucy
9. do laundry
10. wash hands

Days later I’m still dealing with “repercussions” as we found out that the poo water had crept into the girls closet and the living room and drenching the carpet and bringing a very interesting smell with it.

Happy flushing folks!

     

Green Eggs and Ham

 

Tonight I read Dr. Seuss' "Green Eggs and Ham" to my youngest daughter. I've read this book several times to my other children, yet this particular time I was struck by the conclusion of this book. 

The Cat in the Hat has declined the various invitations from Sam-I-Am to try green eggs and ham - he will not try them! Yet, as Sam pursues him, the Cat in the Hat finally gives in. 

Sam!
If you will let me be,
I will try them.
You will see.

Say!

I like green eggs and ham!
I do! I like them, Sam-I-am!
And I would eat them in a boat!
And I would eat them with a goat.
And I will eat them in the rain.
And in the dark. And on a train.
And in a car. And in a tree.
They are so good so good you see!

So I will eat them in a box.
And I will eat them with a fox.
And I will eat them in a house.
And I will eat them with a mouse.
And I will eat them here and there.

Say! I will eat them anywhere!
I do so like
Green eggs and ham!
Thank you!
Thank you,
Sam-I-am

Just think, the Cat in the Hat could have continued to refuse to try the green eggs and ham. Or, after trying them, he could have denied that he liked them. 

It occurs to me that often we act much like the Cat. When change is introduced we deny the possibilities that the change might bring a favorable impact. Instead, we outright refuse it! Maybe, after we are worn down, we agree to "try" the change just to appease someone - all the while refusing to give it a true chance.  

What is required, from us all, is to, first, listen; listen to the thoughts and insights of others. Then, second, we must put our own opinions aside and give true consideration to the suggestions of others - this may require us giving the suggested "change" a chance. And, finally, we must set our own pride aside and do what is best - for ourselves and others. 

Say! I will eat them anywhere!
I do so like
Green eggs and ham!
Thank you!
Thank you,
Sam-I-am

Bedtime Conversation

I'm not really sure how my bedtime conversation with our 10, 8, and 6 year-olds tonight turned to dictators, Kim Jong-Il, and the present conditions of North Korea...

This led to Bennett crying with great confusion as to why someone would run a country this way and great uncertainty about the future of  the people living under his regime. 

When I thought all was better and Bennett was calm, I left the room. 

Within minutes he was crying out again.

I went into the room to console him once again and I asked, "What has got you the most upset?" He replied, "That man that cares more about himself than he does about the rest of his people."

I then asked, "Have you prayed for him?" And our daughter, Addison, responded, "Yes! He keeps crying, and wailing, and mourning for him!" To which Bennett sits up straight in his bed, looks to the sky and raises his arms; " Dear God, help that Kim guy to start caring about other people and to stop killing people that love you."

I love these kids!

Seeing Messes

This weekend I will celebrate 12 wonderful years of marriage to my wife. Each year that passes I feel that we grow closer together as we share in the highs and lows of marriage, parenthood, and life. And, while I feel that we have a great marriage and a unity in our marriage, there is one thing that we greatly differ on. We do not see messes the same way! 

When I enter a room, I see the clutter - clothing, toys, and everything that is out of its place - in the room. Likewise, when I enter a room, I see the dirt - crumbs, dust, cobwebs  in the room. Now, when this clutter or dirt is someone else's home, it doesn't bother me nearly as much as if it were in my own home. When this clutter or dirt is in my home, I cannot relax until it is cleaned up. This has proven to be a problem in the past, as you can imagine. 

For years this was a point of contention between my wife and I in our home. I would enter the house after a day of work and immediately begin to pick up and to clean up the house - not just one room, but every room. Why? Because it bothered me and I knew that I would not be able to relax until it was completed. My wife would say, "just come and sit down and relax". But I can't, this mess has to be cleaned up. 

(Let me pause here and clarify that our home is not a mess. Our home hasn't really been a mess in the 12 years that we have shared a home together. So when I write that it is a "mess" understand what I mean is that there is a smudge on the window, a doll on the floor, toothpaste in the sink, or a  couple popcorn kernels on the floor.)

As I wrote before, for years this was a point of contention between my wife and I in our home. However, one day we both realized something about our spouse. She realized that I do not mind cleaning, I somewhat enjoy it (more than the cleaning itself, I enjoy the final - clean - result). She came to the understanding that I enjoy cleaning and that it not only helps me relax, it also helps me release the stress that I have acquired throughout the day. And what I realized about her is that she she does not see messes in the same way that I do. In fact, to my wife it's not a mess.

My eyes were opened to the fact that my wife's eyes see Inge differently.

So, when my eyes see the mess, what is she seeing? She is seeing the handprints of our 14-month-old on the picture window and remembering that she stood there this morning yelling "bye bye" as I pulled out of the driveway. She is seeing the doll that our 9-year old held as she braided it's hair this afternoon - this doll that now has the super-complicated braid that my daughter and her mom have been practicing for weeks. She is seeing the toothpaste with a hint of blood in it after our six-year old lost his first tooth and now speaks slower and with a unmistakable lisp. And she is seeing the popcorn kernels that remind her of how she got to sit, cuddle, and eat popcorn with our 4-year old during his first day of summer break as they watched Handy Manny this morning. 

Perhaps my wife and I do not see messes in the same way. But, I thank God for the way she sees the "messes" in our home. And I wouldn't want it any other way. 

Baptizing Zion

Yesterday I had the great honor and privilege of baptizing my son Zion, as we concluded our Easter worship celebration. This is the second of my children that I have had the honor of baptizing. For me, of course, this is a very emotional experience.

Zion began asking me if he could be baptized almost a year and a half ago. But, because he was only 5 years-old, I told him that it would be better if he would wait to be baptized. He has asked me several times over the past year and a half and every time, after a bit of conversation with him, I conclude by telling him that it would be better if he would wait until he was older.

The reasoning that he gives for wanting to be baptized are reasons that I would encourage others to be baptized; I want to receive communion, I want my sin to be completely washed away, and I want to tell others that I am a Christian, to name a few.

Knowing that I was preparing to baptize three individuals yesterday, he asked me Thursday - as I laid him down for bed - "Dad, can I be baptized on Sunday?" Once again we had a conversation. And, once again, he gave good reasoning for wanting to be baptized; "I want to take communion with you and mom." Then, once again, I old him that it would be best to wait. And on Saturday - before I laid him down for bed - "Dad, will you baptize me tomorrow?" Once again we had a conversation. And, once again, he gave good reasoning for wanting to be baptized; "I want Jesus to wash all my sin away in front of the church." Then, once again, I old him that it would be best to wait.

As we sat down in the front pew on Sunday morning, with music playing, and anticipation for our resurrection worship celebration to begin, Zion looks up to me; "Dad, will you please baptize me today?" Once again we had a conversation. And, once again, he gave good reasoning for wanting to be baptized; "I think it will help me grow closer to God".

During the service I had a short conversation with God.
After the service I had a short conversation with my wife.
Then I had a short conversation with Zion.
And I got to celebrate an amazing moment with my son.

Missing My Jr. Reading Partner

I made a commitment to read through The New Testament during month of August. Not a huge or weighty commitment - it comes out to 9-10 chapters per day. 

Our daughter also started back to school this month which has brought with it an earlier bedtime. Several days this monthour daughter  has had difficulty going to sleep. 

Late one night, as she sat with me in my recliner, I began to read my Bible. Not wanting to keep her up I began to read to myself. It didn't take long before she asked me to read aloud to her. So, we began in Acts and I read aloud to her as she went to sleep.

The next night we put her to bed, tucked her in, prayed with her, and said "good night". less than twenty minutes later she walked out with her blanket, ready to hear the second half of Acts read to her. 

This has continued night after night. I have looked forward to this every night this month as she walks out to me or calls for me to read, saying; "where are we going to start reading tonight". 

As I said, I have looked forward to this every night this month. But tonight, I am out of town and I am missing my jr. reading partner.

because that's the way dad did it

The other night I was putting the kids to bed and, in addition to our regular bedtime routine, I told them good night in a very strange voice with some added motions. My wife, Kim, asked me what I was doing, why I used these voices, and why I used these particular motions. My answer was simple; "because that's the way dad did it".

This simple phrase really got me thinking as the night went on. I began to think of the many actions I take, the many routines that I follow every day "because that's the way dad did it".

My dad would do some of the simplest things on a daily basis that seemed to have had a great impact on my life. piggy-back or horsey-back rides to bed that seemed to last for an hour, potty-breaks in the middle of the night so that we would break that pesky bed-wetting problem, making up silly songs with us and about us, trapping us in a make-believe cave while wrestling with us at the same time, giving us rides on his shoulders when we seemed to tired to take another step, giving us rides on his feet when we needed a laugh, and many other memorable things that he did that I think back on and can't help sharing with my children too. But it is not just the fun activities that my dad passed down to me that I share with my children, it also seems to be the disciplines, making them drink all of their milk before they get up from the table, ensuring that they treat their mom, my wife, with respect and are never cruel, giving them "the look" or even "the voice" when they behave inappropriately in public and especially at church, and making sure that they say their prayers before meals and bed every night.

I thought not only of my children, the way that I treat them, the way that I raise them, but also about my wife and my marriage. The small things that my dad did for my mom remain in my head and they seem to have made it to my marriage as well. Opening the door for my wife whenever possible, surprising her with unexpected gifts throughout the year, making the holidays (especially the Christmas season) a special time, and many more.

All of this helped me to realize just how much of an impact fathers have on the lives of their children. Often times as a father we may wonder if the things that we do really serve a purpose and if it is all really worth it, let me say that it is. Sometimes the actions, the little things that we do may seem to be unappreciated and we may feel that no one cares, perhaps even that no one notices. Yet, in the same way that a rock is smoothed and forms under the gentle pressure of a stream, over time fathers are making a huge impact on their children and on their family. If you are a father and you are doubting yourself, your role, and the responsibilities that you are carrying out, just know that, as time goes on, as children mature and advance, your impact and your legacy is being established.

Further, if you are a follower of God, the one true God who created the heaven and the earth, the God that loves and cares for you and me more than we could ever imaging, "that's the way dad did it" carries a higher meaning to you and should impact the way that you lead your family. Our God is a God that governs with mercy, love, and forgiveness. Our God is a God that teaches His children at the various ages and stages as they grow and mature along side Him. Our God is a God that never leaves and never forsakes his children. Our God is a God that keeps His love as the focus of all judgments, actions, and disciplines. But, in order for a believer to say "that's the way dad did it" we need to be familiar with our Father in Heaven, we need to be walking with Him as He is guiding us, teaching us, and maturing us in our personal journey with Him.

Romans 8:15 says: "but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." If it's been a while, your Father wants to hear from you and He wants to make it clear the way that He does it, which is the only way to do it.