...why aren't you telling me what you think? I know...yes, I KNOW that there are a select few (very few) of you who read this here little thing called a blog and don't comment--it's called lurking, people. If you did this in public you'd be called 'rude', but this is cyberspace and evidently every thing is permitted. However, tonight I am calling you to task. I want to know why you're so quiet. Now, don't get me wrong, I like quiet and all, but you should not simply lurk forever, one might question your upbringing.
Here's the assignment: in one sentence or more tell me what prevents you from putting that little floating thought that you're thinking into writing here. Simple huh?
I'm waiting...
(those of you that normally comment are free to chime in and make your astute observations as normal, of course!)
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Monday, March 31, 2008
Snippets of a day in the life
Today it snowed and it rained and the sun shone bright. I took my coat off, put it back on, took it back off, put it back on...Froze, sweated, shivered, felt nice. It was the last day of March but it felt like a day that belonged in January.
I saw a coyote, a bald eagle or three, too many deer to count, countless horses and cows, chickens, swans, ducks, geese and a wolf.
I delivered signs and clothing and paper and office supplies and tractor parts and pet food and trees and titles and documents and guns and carseats and books and cd's and whatsits and thingamabobs to one hundred and twelve different addresses over the course of a hundred and fifty three miles in the span of nine point three hours.
I laughed, I talked, I thought, I sang, I prayed, I whistled, I texted, I called, I ate, I drove, I ran, I jumped, I had fun!
My greatest observation of the day (although I've had it before) was this: There is one sure fire way to a woman's heart. Jump out of your truck smiling and hand her a box with these two words on the side....NORDSTROM SHOES. Don't ask me why, but it works every time!
I saw a coyote, a bald eagle or three, too many deer to count, countless horses and cows, chickens, swans, ducks, geese and a wolf.
I delivered signs and clothing and paper and office supplies and tractor parts and pet food and trees and titles and documents and guns and carseats and books and cd's and whatsits and thingamabobs to one hundred and twelve different addresses over the course of a hundred and fifty three miles in the span of nine point three hours.
I laughed, I talked, I thought, I sang, I prayed, I whistled, I texted, I called, I ate, I drove, I ran, I jumped, I had fun!
My greatest observation of the day (although I've had it before) was this: There is one sure fire way to a woman's heart. Jump out of your truck smiling and hand her a box with these two words on the side....NORDSTROM SHOES. Don't ask me why, but it works every time!
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Sometimes it's just cold.
I had worked hard all day to get to his game, as I like to watch him play. Actually, I like to watch what he does when he sits on the bench, too; the way he engages people, his mannerisms, his smile. But, I digress.
The old wooden stadium was built for a football crowd, long before soccer became a high school sport. The grandstands run east to west and, luckily on this day the wind was out of the south so if you sat high enough the wind might miss you. The game time temperature must have been close to 40 degrees. At least that's what it read on the bank's sign just outside the campus. But with the wind's assistance it felt like a lot colder.
I sat (and sometimes stood) alone way high in the bleachers. I'm sure some thought it to be strange. There were thirty, maybe forty people in attendance, most of them parents or grandparents of the players, I'm sure. There was a small group of maybe eight or so students that must have had a friend on the team, or maybe they needed an excuse not to go home. Either way, it was nice to see.
The game was fairly uneventful--unless you were watching every little thing your son was doing. Many times I felt like cheering when my boy broke free from a defender at breakneck speed--only to have the ball go the other way--and cheering wouldn't have been appropriate. Many times I felt my heart swell with pride and I heard myself say "way to go" or "atta boy". It was at those particular moments I would look down and see my former wife and her husband all decked out in hoodies and wrapped in a warm blanket, seemingly oblivious to the game being played. It was in those moments I felt the most alone. Suddenly, the bleachers couldn't block out the cold.
Sometimes the hardest thing about this whole single parent thing is NOT being able to share what you feel as a parent with the only other person who might understand what it is that you feel.
The old wooden stadium was built for a football crowd, long before soccer became a high school sport. The grandstands run east to west and, luckily on this day the wind was out of the south so if you sat high enough the wind might miss you. The game time temperature must have been close to 40 degrees. At least that's what it read on the bank's sign just outside the campus. But with the wind's assistance it felt like a lot colder.
I sat (and sometimes stood) alone way high in the bleachers. I'm sure some thought it to be strange. There were thirty, maybe forty people in attendance, most of them parents or grandparents of the players, I'm sure. There was a small group of maybe eight or so students that must have had a friend on the team, or maybe they needed an excuse not to go home. Either way, it was nice to see.
The game was fairly uneventful--unless you were watching every little thing your son was doing. Many times I felt like cheering when my boy broke free from a defender at breakneck speed--only to have the ball go the other way--and cheering wouldn't have been appropriate. Many times I felt my heart swell with pride and I heard myself say "way to go" or "atta boy". It was at those particular moments I would look down and see my former wife and her husband all decked out in hoodies and wrapped in a warm blanket, seemingly oblivious to the game being played. It was in those moments I felt the most alone. Suddenly, the bleachers couldn't block out the cold.
Sometimes the hardest thing about this whole single parent thing is NOT being able to share what you feel as a parent with the only other person who might understand what it is that you feel.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Do you ever wonder what those two days were like? Those two days Jesus spent in hell for things he didn't do? Not only did he die a horrendous death for being perfect, but then he had to bring those sins to hell and defeat Satan and his legion of demons as proof that he was indeed The Christ. There were no Pharisees or high priests or even true disciples there to witness it. It wasn't something done so as to be recorded for posterity. But it needed to be done. Death had to be defeated in order for us to live. Jesus wasn't quietly laying behind a stone trying to figure out how to escape his burial cloths, he was fighting for the future of eternity. He was fighting to ensure that everything he ever said and did up to that point was true and He did it for you and for me. He fought death and won! It seems like our Christianized version of the event is sanitized to the point of making it into a glorified fairy tale. I know that Jesus languished in hell for me, because of me, so that he could spend eternity with me. It is the only identity I will ever need.
Happy Easter.
Happy Easter.
Monday, March 17, 2008
The Quiet Chapter
I have myriad of things to write about and still tonight I am still. It seems I have found a quiet chapter inside that needs my listening. I don't know how and I surely don't know why, but contentment has found me and, for tonight, I will share it with you in silence.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
The post in which I use way too many parentheses (which, if you look at it long enough will look misspelled)
Today I was breathing (of course, I was breathing) when suddenly something foreign (no, not Canadian, that would be sick) was absorbed into my innards. As we speak (which, by the way, if you're speaking while reading this, is a little weird in and of itself) I am getting dizzy and starting to get the chills (how does one start to get the chills?) so I can only surmise that I am getting sick (No! not Canadian). Don't you hate it when people (you know who you are) say, "Yeah, that stuff's goin' around", as if stuff hasn't always been goin' around? (Except that day back in '32) So I am going to have some tea (shut up!) with honey and lemon in it. The thing is, when I went to the cupboard to get the honey (you know, the kind that comes in a little bear-shaped bottle) it was completely crystallized (no, not the bottle, the honey) to the point where there was no liquidity at all (poor little bear was all stopped up) so I put him (although it could be a her...hard to tell at this stage of honey bottle bear maturity) in the microwave for about thirty seconds. I'll have you know that twenty seconds would have been plenty (did you know that really, really hot honey runs like water?). I now have a steaming, hot cup of tea (shut up...again) with really runny honey in it (and I have one bear with really runny honey in it).
The End (parenthetically speaking, of course!)
The End (parenthetically speaking, of course!)
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Imagine if you will...
...imagine if you can.
You open your eyes and you're standing in line at the very last audition to the very last "American Idol". Ever. You are ushered into the stadium where there are hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of people when suddenly there is an eerie silence. Helicopters appear over the edges of the stadium walls and they are headed your way. The stadium lights go black. Not a sound is heard. You look up in the sky and suddenly you and only you are standing in the center of what seems like a million candle spotlight emanating from each helicopter and a voice deep and still announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, the auditions are now closed. The person you see standing here in the light is our winner!" You expect to hear thunderous booing and hissing, but instead the throng goes absolutely crazy with the loudest cheers you've ever heard. A microphone is lowered out of who knows where to dangle in front of you. You step up and say, "I don't know that to say. I don't understand. I didn't DO anything. You must be mistaken because I...I...I don't deserve..." And then you blink.
You open your eyes and you're somewhere completely different than you were just a second ago. And someone is holding your hand? Wait, he's not holding your hand, he's shaking it. Your eyes look down at your hand and trace the hand that is shaking yours back up to a bespectacled little man. It's Bill Gates! In your other hand is one of those gigantic checks that you get when you win some sort of prize. You lean over to read it at it says 'Pay to the order of...and there, right there in that all important line is YOUR name! And the amount? Fifty billion dollars. Fifty. Billion. With a 'B'!! In all the excitement you barely even noticed that Mr. Gates was going on and on about how he 'had never met a more deserving person' and, evidently he was talking about YOU! You shake your head as if to say, 'you must have the wrong person'. You try to explain that you probably weren't supposed to be there, since just two seconds ago you won the American Idol award, but your words are dwarfed by applause as everyone looks at you and cheers as mountains of confetti fall from the sky. So much confetti that it makes a New York ticker tape parade look like a pullstring party popper. The cameras flash endlessly...And then you blink.
You open your eyes and you're standing on the steps of what appears to be a castle of some sort. When you look closer you realize it IS a castle. And not just a Disneyland castle, but an actual authentic castle! You are surrounded by a cast of extremely royal looking people. You surmise that this must be a coronation of sorts. In an instant there are servants surrounding you with what looks like a gown of significant worth. And a crown. You find yourself a bit dazed as they seem to be draping the gown on YOU. And the crown too! The trumpets blare and a decree is read..."It is hereby declared that (fill in your name) has come to claim the throne that was long ago created here in the castle of the land that bears his name." You say, "There must be a mistake, I'm not that old and this country is named after me?" The throng of people, in unison replies, "We have been waiting for you since long before your birth." The voices sound like what you've always imagined an angelic choir would sound. It is grand! It is majestic! It is about YOU! And then you blink.
You open your eyes and you realize that you have experienced in mere human terms what the first three blinks of heaven must be like.
You deserve none of it. You did nothing for it. You were chosen because YOU are YOU!!!!
You open your eyes and you're standing in line at the very last audition to the very last "American Idol". Ever. You are ushered into the stadium where there are hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of people when suddenly there is an eerie silence. Helicopters appear over the edges of the stadium walls and they are headed your way. The stadium lights go black. Not a sound is heard. You look up in the sky and suddenly you and only you are standing in the center of what seems like a million candle spotlight emanating from each helicopter and a voice deep and still announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, the auditions are now closed. The person you see standing here in the light is our winner!" You expect to hear thunderous booing and hissing, but instead the throng goes absolutely crazy with the loudest cheers you've ever heard. A microphone is lowered out of who knows where to dangle in front of you. You step up and say, "I don't know that to say. I don't understand. I didn't DO anything. You must be mistaken because I...I...I don't deserve..." And then you blink.
You open your eyes and you're somewhere completely different than you were just a second ago. And someone is holding your hand? Wait, he's not holding your hand, he's shaking it. Your eyes look down at your hand and trace the hand that is shaking yours back up to a bespectacled little man. It's Bill Gates! In your other hand is one of those gigantic checks that you get when you win some sort of prize. You lean over to read it at it says 'Pay to the order of...and there, right there in that all important line is YOUR name! And the amount? Fifty billion dollars. Fifty. Billion. With a 'B'!! In all the excitement you barely even noticed that Mr. Gates was going on and on about how he 'had never met a more deserving person' and, evidently he was talking about YOU! You shake your head as if to say, 'you must have the wrong person'. You try to explain that you probably weren't supposed to be there, since just two seconds ago you won the American Idol award, but your words are dwarfed by applause as everyone looks at you and cheers as mountains of confetti fall from the sky. So much confetti that it makes a New York ticker tape parade look like a pullstring party popper. The cameras flash endlessly...And then you blink.
You open your eyes and you're standing on the steps of what appears to be a castle of some sort. When you look closer you realize it IS a castle. And not just a Disneyland castle, but an actual authentic castle! You are surrounded by a cast of extremely royal looking people. You surmise that this must be a coronation of sorts. In an instant there are servants surrounding you with what looks like a gown of significant worth. And a crown. You find yourself a bit dazed as they seem to be draping the gown on YOU. And the crown too! The trumpets blare and a decree is read..."It is hereby declared that (fill in your name) has come to claim the throne that was long ago created here in the castle of the land that bears his name." You say, "There must be a mistake, I'm not that old and this country is named after me?" The throng of people, in unison replies, "We have been waiting for you since long before your birth." The voices sound like what you've always imagined an angelic choir would sound. It is grand! It is majestic! It is about YOU! And then you blink.
You open your eyes and you realize that you have experienced in mere human terms what the first three blinks of heaven must be like.
You deserve none of it. You did nothing for it. You were chosen because YOU are YOU!!!!
Saturday, March 01, 2008
A Post About A Post
Even an ordinary thing can become something beautiful. For instance, this fence post. At first glance it was just another in a long line of posts. Upon closer inspection, however, it is clearly different. When lined up properly, it's flaw--the hole in it--allows you to see something you simply can't see through the others. Thank God for the hole He's creating in you because, given the right perspective and the right moment, someone's going to see something beautiful beyond the hole.
p.s. It also never hurts to have a bright, shining light overhead either :)
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Dancing in the reign
In my teenage years I began to really love music, so of course I listened to AM radio a lot while driving around in my 1970 Duster. I liked all of the usual stuff any teenager in the mid-seventies liked: The Eagles, Boston, Kansas, Firefall, Loggins and Messina, Steve Miller Band, etc. and if I liked a band a whole, whole lot I would splurge and go buy the 8-track so I could listen whenever I wanted to. I also liked Christian music at the time. (Once again, I know...weird. But hey! Does that surprise anyone?) However, most Christian music was slow and schmaltzy to me until I heard Larry Norman and Randy Stonehill. I loved both of them! One of my favorite 8-tracks was called "In Another Land" by Larry Norman. Well, Larry Norman died this weekend and I heard about it this morning on the station I listen to. My very favorite song on the album was the title track. I know it backwards and forwards and upside down. I sang it all day today. Here it is: (by heart)
A thief fell out of heaven
Two loaded dice
But the Lamb rolled a seven
Back to Paradise
The bread was finally leavened
So I had a slice
As the sun began to rain
Water fell from fountains
And then turned to wine
Rocks fell from the mountains
In a chorus line
He came in tails and top hat
And He looked so fine
As the Son began to reign
A fox snuck in to steal away the grapes
But the man who ran the vineyard shut the gate
So he could not escape
And now we'll live forever
In another land
Everything is changing
Like it first was planned
Did you get your invitation
To come play in the band
And let the Son begin to reign
Larry Norman is now in another land dancing in the reign.
A thief fell out of heaven
Two loaded dice
But the Lamb rolled a seven
Back to Paradise
The bread was finally leavened
So I had a slice
As the sun began to rain
Water fell from fountains
And then turned to wine
Rocks fell from the mountains
In a chorus line
He came in tails and top hat
And He looked so fine
As the Son began to reign
A fox snuck in to steal away the grapes
But the man who ran the vineyard shut the gate
So he could not escape
And now we'll live forever
In another land
Everything is changing
Like it first was planned
Did you get your invitation
To come play in the band
And let the Son begin to reign
Larry Norman is now in another land dancing in the reign.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
The Simple Things
I have come to find the beauty in simple things. Yesterday as my brother and I were out taking pictures on a very springlike day I took this picture...
...I'm think I'm going to call it "Insulator" (by Barb Dwire)
The wire reminds me of my humor...rusty and twisted :)
Friday, February 22, 2008
Wind...
Have you ever stopped to notice the sound of wind through a tree? I did just that today...I know, sometimes I'm just weird that way, along with many other ways, but I digress. What is wind? It is air that is moving, but where is it going? Where did it come from and what did it replace? Who tells it to move? Does it have ears to hear? Why doesn't it make a sound when it stops?
Isn't it funny that we can no more explain wind than God and yet we rarely give it a second thought? Air is the one thing we know of that most closely resembles God in it's qualities--it's invisible, it's everywhere, it moves, it's powerful, it sustains us--and yet we believe in it with every fiber of our being because some smart guy says he proved it? Yet we can't believe in God because smart guys don't get it??
Tomorrow, when you feel the wind in your hair and it makes you feel something new--say 'hello' to God and thank Him for brushing up so close to you.
Isn't it funny that we can no more explain wind than God and yet we rarely give it a second thought? Air is the one thing we know of that most closely resembles God in it's qualities--it's invisible, it's everywhere, it moves, it's powerful, it sustains us--and yet we believe in it with every fiber of our being because some smart guy says he proved it? Yet we can't believe in God because smart guys don't get it??
Tomorrow, when you feel the wind in your hair and it makes you feel something new--say 'hello' to God and thank Him for brushing up so close to you.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Three Little Hands
I'm not sure how it happened or what triggered it, but as I was on my drive to my route today an old, painful memory hit me square between the eyes. I guess I was wondering how it is that I have made it this far; how it is that I was able to carry on.
Most of the memories surrounding the last days of my marriage are a blur if anything at all. Most, that is, except those two or three minutes that it took for the U-Haul to disappear from sight as it drove away. I was standing alone in the driveway of the house we called home for the past 7 years--where I would 'live' alone for the next 2 weeks--and out of the passenger window all I could see were those three little hands frantically waving goodbye. It was then that I knew my life would never be the same. It was then that I knew a whole new pain. I don't know if there's a way to describe that kind of pain. My heart was so heavy I could scarcely move a muscle, but I knew I had to wave to let them know I loved them.
In an effort to live fully from my heart, sometimes I have to open a door that I painted shut. You have just been given a brief peek behind one such door.
Most of the memories surrounding the last days of my marriage are a blur if anything at all. Most, that is, except those two or three minutes that it took for the U-Haul to disappear from sight as it drove away. I was standing alone in the driveway of the house we called home for the past 7 years--where I would 'live' alone for the next 2 weeks--and out of the passenger window all I could see were those three little hands frantically waving goodbye. It was then that I knew my life would never be the same. It was then that I knew a whole new pain. I don't know if there's a way to describe that kind of pain. My heart was so heavy I could scarcely move a muscle, but I knew I had to wave to let them know I loved them.
In an effort to live fully from my heart, sometimes I have to open a door that I painted shut. You have just been given a brief peek behind one such door.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Lately I've been thinking about lovely. Yes, lovely. Why is the word so seldom used these days and what does it really mean?
I think it is used so seldom these days because our society is enamored with the exterior and being lovely has very little, if anything to do with the exterior. It is an interior quality born of the heart. It has more to do with the glint in your eye than the color of it. More to do with intent of your heart than the careful calculations of your words. More to do with the way you carry yourself than the way you look. More about the maturing of your soul than the aging of your skin.
My mom turned 82 on Thursday and yet I think she's becoming more lovely with each passing day. Her face is wrinkled and her hair has just started turning gray. Her pace is slowed and her accent thickens almost daily, but nonetheless she has become a very lovely woman. She easily could have chosen otherwise.
When she was 13 years old she moved out of her parents' home to go to work as a maid. "That's just how it was in those days", is how she puts it. She was the youngest of 6 children and never had much in the way of material things. Life was hard in the Netherlands in the 30's and 40's so every healthy person worked to help feed the family. My mom never knew any different. To this day she doesn't think of that time in her life as a hardship, but as a blessing.
In 1951 she and my dad married. Shortly thereafter, they--along with my dad's parents, his 5 siblings and spouses (with the exception of his youngest sister, who was single)--moved to 'the promised land' of America. Think about that for a minute...she left her own family behind to start a new life in a new country with a new husband. Together they had a total of 12 American dollars to start their life here. My oldest brother was born in 1952 and by the time he was 3 years old he had 3 sisters and a brother! You read that right. My mom had a 3 year old, a 2 year old, a 1 year old, and then? Twins! The fact that her hair is just now turning gray is a matter of amazement to me. And she wasn't done yet. By the time my oldest brother was 7 there were 7 of us!
Remember now, this was before the days of disposable diapers and formula and battery operated child swings. As you can imagine, my dad had to burn the candle at both ends to finance the endless sucking noise known as 'children eating'. My mom orchestrated the chaos at home alone for the most part. I have no idea how. That was just the formative years. Can you imagine this?...When I turned 13 she suddenly had 6 teenagers under her roof? Can you say, 'insanity'? And once again, my mom would say, "I didn't know any different" with the most genuinely understated smile you will ever see.
Tomorrow my brothers and sisters and assorted other family members will gather together to pay tribute to my mom. A woman who in my eyes has become the definition of...Lovely!
I think it is used so seldom these days because our society is enamored with the exterior and being lovely has very little, if anything to do with the exterior. It is an interior quality born of the heart. It has more to do with the glint in your eye than the color of it. More to do with intent of your heart than the careful calculations of your words. More to do with the way you carry yourself than the way you look. More about the maturing of your soul than the aging of your skin.
My mom turned 82 on Thursday and yet I think she's becoming more lovely with each passing day. Her face is wrinkled and her hair has just started turning gray. Her pace is slowed and her accent thickens almost daily, but nonetheless she has become a very lovely woman. She easily could have chosen otherwise.
When she was 13 years old she moved out of her parents' home to go to work as a maid. "That's just how it was in those days", is how she puts it. She was the youngest of 6 children and never had much in the way of material things. Life was hard in the Netherlands in the 30's and 40's so every healthy person worked to help feed the family. My mom never knew any different. To this day she doesn't think of that time in her life as a hardship, but as a blessing.
In 1951 she and my dad married. Shortly thereafter, they--along with my dad's parents, his 5 siblings and spouses (with the exception of his youngest sister, who was single)--moved to 'the promised land' of America. Think about that for a minute...she left her own family behind to start a new life in a new country with a new husband. Together they had a total of 12 American dollars to start their life here. My oldest brother was born in 1952 and by the time he was 3 years old he had 3 sisters and a brother! You read that right. My mom had a 3 year old, a 2 year old, a 1 year old, and then? Twins! The fact that her hair is just now turning gray is a matter of amazement to me. And she wasn't done yet. By the time my oldest brother was 7 there were 7 of us!
Remember now, this was before the days of disposable diapers and formula and battery operated child swings. As you can imagine, my dad had to burn the candle at both ends to finance the endless sucking noise known as 'children eating'. My mom orchestrated the chaos at home alone for the most part. I have no idea how. That was just the formative years. Can you imagine this?...When I turned 13 she suddenly had 6 teenagers under her roof? Can you say, 'insanity'? And once again, my mom would say, "I didn't know any different" with the most genuinely understated smile you will ever see.
Tomorrow my brothers and sisters and assorted other family members will gather together to pay tribute to my mom. A woman who in my eyes has become the definition of...Lovely!
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
It isn't....but it IS...
It isn't rocket science
but there is chemistry involved
It isn't a game
but it's best when there are x's and o's
It isn't a potion
but it is intoxicating
It isn't a disease
but it makes you dizzy
It isn't explainable
but you will know it
It isn't a flavor
but it's delicious
It isn't a novel idea
but there's a book about it
So...what is it???
It is LOVE!!
The very essence of God Himself. It is the most inexplicable, unfathomable, undeniable, indescribable, truest thing there is...just like God Himself.
This life is a journey of finding, knowing, grasping, holding, and giving of this crazy little thing called love.
(I dare ya not to get that Queen song stuck in your head now!)
but there is chemistry involved
It isn't a game
but it's best when there are x's and o's
It isn't a potion
but it is intoxicating
It isn't a disease
but it makes you dizzy
It isn't explainable
but you will know it
It isn't a flavor
but it's delicious
It isn't a novel idea
but there's a book about it
So...what is it???
It is LOVE!!
The very essence of God Himself. It is the most inexplicable, unfathomable, undeniable, indescribable, truest thing there is...just like God Himself.
This life is a journey of finding, knowing, grasping, holding, and giving of this crazy little thing called love.
(I dare ya not to get that Queen song stuck in your head now!)
Sunday, January 20, 2008
The Sun and the Ocean
At evening, when the sun dips down to kiss the ocean, she blushes red and he shines bright. They hold fast each other slipping into the darkness, giving way to the moon and it's soft light. Nightly they show us their daily devotion as slowly they meet and the two become one.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Scoop it!
Isn't it funny how the smallest things trigger memories?
Just now I went to get myself a bowl of ice cream and realized that my son had had a bowl last night and had used the scooper so it was in the dishwasher. I went to my utensil drawer to see what else I might use and voila! the memory was triggered....
When my kids were maybe 9, 5 and 3 their mom had an evening job so it was up to me to do dinner. And by 'do' I mean, put what my then-wife had prepared into the oven. When dinner had been eaten and we'd had a time of playing and schoolwork (at least for my daughter) one of the kids would invariably say "Dad, let's do ice cream!" Never did they say "Let's HAVE ice cream." No. Ice cream took some 'do'ing.
I would get out the bowls, choose the ice cream and turn to the utensil drawer and say "Hmmmm...now where can that ole ice cream scooper be?" I would then proceed to 'scoop' the ice cream with every conceivable thing I could find, except of course, the ice cream scoop. There was the tea ball thingy. The garlic press. The tongs. A corkscrew. A wire whisk. A spatula. The mixer attachment doohicky....all done to the tune of hilarious children laughs. Oh it was fun!
Thank God for memories that make me laugh!
Just now I went to get myself a bowl of ice cream and realized that my son had had a bowl last night and had used the scooper so it was in the dishwasher. I went to my utensil drawer to see what else I might use and voila! the memory was triggered....
When my kids were maybe 9, 5 and 3 their mom had an evening job so it was up to me to do dinner. And by 'do' I mean, put what my then-wife had prepared into the oven. When dinner had been eaten and we'd had a time of playing and schoolwork (at least for my daughter) one of the kids would invariably say "Dad, let's do ice cream!" Never did they say "Let's HAVE ice cream." No. Ice cream took some 'do'ing.
I would get out the bowls, choose the ice cream and turn to the utensil drawer and say "Hmmmm...now where can that ole ice cream scooper be?" I would then proceed to 'scoop' the ice cream with every conceivable thing I could find, except of course, the ice cream scoop. There was the tea ball thingy. The garlic press. The tongs. A corkscrew. A wire whisk. A spatula. The mixer attachment doohicky....all done to the tune of hilarious children laughs. Oh it was fun!
Thank God for memories that make me laugh!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Weird!
I just went to the grocery store down the street to get some stationery to write a letter to my daughter and the strangest thing happened.
First you must know that there is a growing population of Russian immigrants moving into our city and that near the grocery store is a church where, on Sunday nights they hold services that are given in their language.
So, as I'm looking up and down the aisles trying to find where they might hide things like stationery, I notice this one very prim and proper looking older woman perusing the magazine rack. She was wearing a nice dress with dark leggings and a dark, woolen winter coat. Very church-like attire. And as I pass her by she rips a big, loud fart! I am SO not kidding!! She didn't so much as flinch or move a muscle (at least not visibly). Is that just part of the culture?
It was the grossest, funniest thing I've experienced in a long, long time.
Thought I'd share it with you all. :)
First you must know that there is a growing population of Russian immigrants moving into our city and that near the grocery store is a church where, on Sunday nights they hold services that are given in their language.
So, as I'm looking up and down the aisles trying to find where they might hide things like stationery, I notice this one very prim and proper looking older woman perusing the magazine rack. She was wearing a nice dress with dark leggings and a dark, woolen winter coat. Very church-like attire. And as I pass her by she rips a big, loud fart! I am SO not kidding!! She didn't so much as flinch or move a muscle (at least not visibly). Is that just part of the culture?
It was the grossest, funniest thing I've experienced in a long, long time.
Thought I'd share it with you all. :)
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Saturday, January 05, 2008
A Father and His Boys
A few feet from where I sit there are two boys that bear my name. My blood is in their veins. And while at this moment they're both sleeping, my concern for them is heightened. They are my boys. God has loaned them to me for but a brief time and it is my privilege and responsibility to steer their lives for a few, numbered days. I don't know the number, but God does.
Outside the sky is dark, the wind is howling and it is cold; a stark contrast to the quiet, warmth that is our home. As males we love the violence of wind and welcome cold and dark as challenges to be reckoned with. We're rough and tumble, dirt and mud. We're loud and boisterous, wild and strong. We understand these things about each other, but will the world even try to understand?
I know it will be an uphill battle. I know the temptation to retreat when misunderstood. I know the urge to hide the pain; to go it alone--isolation seems the easier pain to endure. I know these things too well.
I also know my Father...He stands with open arms. I hope I can model that to my boys because...the sky is dark, the wind is howling and it is cold.
Outside the sky is dark, the wind is howling and it is cold; a stark contrast to the quiet, warmth that is our home. As males we love the violence of wind and welcome cold and dark as challenges to be reckoned with. We're rough and tumble, dirt and mud. We're loud and boisterous, wild and strong. We understand these things about each other, but will the world even try to understand?
I know it will be an uphill battle. I know the temptation to retreat when misunderstood. I know the urge to hide the pain; to go it alone--isolation seems the easier pain to endure. I know these things too well.
I also know my Father...He stands with open arms. I hope I can model that to my boys because...the sky is dark, the wind is howling and it is cold.
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