Sunday, May 31, 2020
Look how far we have NOT come...
I signed on today to express some thoughts and emotions... and honestly I thought I was going to be more confused in my head than I actually am. I come from a family with deep connections to law enforcement, and those men and women that I know are the absolute cream of the crop of humanity. I also have deep connections to my friends, coworkers, and students (current and past) who come from all sorts of diverse backgrounds. I woke up this morning with the expectation that I would feel torn between the people that I love... but I don't. I am just angry, and sad. My feelings and relationship with one group have absolutely no impact and/or diminishment upon my feelings for the other. INJUSTICE IS INJUSTICE!!!! My biggest sadness comes from the distraction of what is really going on.
DO NOT let your emotions distract you from the real conversations that MUST happen. The events of last night, and your feelings about them, do not change the fact that a man was murdered. The events of last night do not change the fact that there is a divide in this country that needs to heal. The events of last night do not change the fact that we are ALL created in the image of God and that we paint the ultimate picture of His diversity and beauty. The events of last night do not change the fact that we ALL have worth, dignity, and a right to be heard, feel safe, and pursue happiness. Be angry at the destruction and theft of THINGS that can be replaced and/or insured... but be MORE upset with the stolen life that has been taken from this earth forever!!
I have said this before and I will never stop saying it to my friends, students, family, everyone... I have no idea what it feels like to be anything but a middle class, white male and to pretend that I can put myself in the shoes of others is arrogant and wrong. The things I would do and the behaviors I naturally embrace are a product of all the environments and pressures I have felt. Has my life always been easy... yes and no. I have had to overcome things, and I have had to make good decisions... but I have always done so from a place of ease. My life is and has always been full of support and opportunity so to pontificate to others that they should all act, think, and be like me is crazy. The only way for me to understand someone with a different background is to listen, to talk, and to strive to understand... leaving my preconceived ideas behind and having an open mind. I do not agree with the actions of a few people, but the fact that the emotions are so charged tells me that something is wrong... and I pray that I am always on the side of finding a solution, and not the side that allows me to justify my misconceptions and ignore that there IS a problem.
I hear you, I see you, I love you... and I am praying for this world we live in!
As I logged in to write this I realized that 4 year ago I wrote here about my anger, frustration and confusion about the world we live in on the same topic!! People... we need to change!!
Tuesday, October 29, 2019
Three legged stool
It was my 18th birthday, and we had a plan. 18 was a special year for our group of friends... not because we could vote (I know I know, its important), not because we could buy tobacco, and not because of any gun rights bestowed (it was CA)... at 18 we could go to the Indian Casinos!! Now, to be totally honest (sorry Mom ad Dad) I had been to the casino before. The casino only checks IDs of people when they sit at the table... and only then if they looked less than 18, which if you knew me in high school you know was not the case. I was, however, scared enough of my father at that point to know the ramifications if I was ever "back-roomed" at an Indian casino... so I just sat and watched my friends who were 18 already and picked up tips and tricks to the game from their wins and losses.
The story behind this evening is long, drama filled, and very high school... but lets just say that really close friends, who were not 18, were left out... feelings were hurt... drama was created... but the plan was in place and I was excited. My parents had no moral objections to poker/blackjack/casino games in general... but I had been given clear advice and instruction about keeping my self safe. "Only take a fixed amount of money and keep your ATM card out of the building", "Everything is permissible in moderation"... you get the idea. Another background piece of info is that I was part of the school's student government group. This is only relevant to the story because my Father decided that he needed to check wth the school to see if one of their student leaders gong to a casino on his birthday would be "frowned upon". You see, our school was a very conservative Christian school and our home church was not a big fan of gambling. Again... long story short but the school principal responded that it would not be a good look for the school and that he would appreciate it if that was not how my birthday was celebrated. I received a page (yes... still the day and age of the pager) with my dad's work number and I called him at my first chance. He let me know what had happened and that I needed to change my birthday plans.
I was not happy... again, I was smart enough and scared enough not to express my anger directly at my father but he definitely knew I was peeved and it put a huge damper on my birthday. We ended up having a perfectly fine time going to dinner (full friend group restored, underage peeps and all), coffee, movie, I don't even remember because the whole time I was fuming inside. MY DAD RUINED MY BIRTHDAY!!!! How could he?! What a jerk!!! (sorry dad, still kinda scared) I did eventually move on... but I never actually forgave or understood what my dad's purpose was. I went away to school, did the college thing, got into a small scrape of trouble (story for a different post) and ended up having a father/son weekend in Chicago where we had a lot of deep conversations and this story came up. I asked him why he felt like he had to ruin my birthday, at a point in time when I thought I was moving into a stage of life where we would become closer friends. His response was deep, profound, and totally lost on a then 21 year old college student. But now, in my mid 30s, as a dad myself... a teacher, coach, administrator, and someone who deals with parents/students in the front lines of education every day... I finally understand what his point was.
His answer to me was simple... (this is not a direct quote, as it has been a few years, but) He said "Bob... I placed you in that school, under their authority, and I agreed to follow their rules as we partnered together in your education and maturity. It would have been wrong of me to not think about their reactions, rules, beliefs, etc. and even more so it would have been undermining their authority to do that. If I taught you that their rules were ok to break just because they were inconvenient, then I would have been teaching you that any rule was ok to break because it was inconvenient. And eventually that would have led to you thinking MY rules were ok to break as well."
I don't know who else needs to hear this, but I know that I did, I do, and I will... over and over and over again as I walk this road of parenthood. We have to make decisions that will not be popular with our kids sometimes. We have to understand that just about everything we do is teaching them a lesson for the future. Most importantly, and I say this selfishly as an educator and former youth pastor, we cannot undermine the authority of the other men and women we have placed in their lives solely to win a few "fun parent points"!! To this day I have no idea if my parents ever had conversations with my teachers, coaches, principals, etc. All I know is that their response was ALWAYS "what did YOU do?" when bad news came home from school, or when I started to complain about some "unfair" treatment. I am sure my parents did not always agree with the play calls, the consequences, the homework load, etc. but never once did I see them belittle, bemoan, make light of, or shrug off any of my teachers, coaches or youth leaders. Were there periods of time when I was not happy with them? SURE!! Were their times when I rebelled? SURE!! But those were MY sinful, selfish and incorrect behaviors/responses and none of that can be laid at their feet. I am a better person (clearly not perfect, ask my wife and my friends!) because my parents made a decision to invest in the long term, not the fun term.
I have been in two schools now who have used a similar analogy for the education process... as Christian educators we are like a 3 legged stool, partnering between parents, church and school to invest in the lives of students and disciple them into a closer relationship with Jesus. I pray that I am a parent like mine... supporting the men and women I CHOOSE to place in the lives of my kids, and partnering with them for the long term of my kids' walk towards Jesus.
The story behind this evening is long, drama filled, and very high school... but lets just say that really close friends, who were not 18, were left out... feelings were hurt... drama was created... but the plan was in place and I was excited. My parents had no moral objections to poker/blackjack/casino games in general... but I had been given clear advice and instruction about keeping my self safe. "Only take a fixed amount of money and keep your ATM card out of the building", "Everything is permissible in moderation"... you get the idea. Another background piece of info is that I was part of the school's student government group. This is only relevant to the story because my Father decided that he needed to check wth the school to see if one of their student leaders gong to a casino on his birthday would be "frowned upon". You see, our school was a very conservative Christian school and our home church was not a big fan of gambling. Again... long story short but the school principal responded that it would not be a good look for the school and that he would appreciate it if that was not how my birthday was celebrated. I received a page (yes... still the day and age of the pager) with my dad's work number and I called him at my first chance. He let me know what had happened and that I needed to change my birthday plans.
I was not happy... again, I was smart enough and scared enough not to express my anger directly at my father but he definitely knew I was peeved and it put a huge damper on my birthday. We ended up having a perfectly fine time going to dinner (full friend group restored, underage peeps and all), coffee, movie, I don't even remember because the whole time I was fuming inside. MY DAD RUINED MY BIRTHDAY!!!! How could he?! What a jerk!!! (sorry dad, still kinda scared) I did eventually move on... but I never actually forgave or understood what my dad's purpose was. I went away to school, did the college thing, got into a small scrape of trouble (story for a different post) and ended up having a father/son weekend in Chicago where we had a lot of deep conversations and this story came up. I asked him why he felt like he had to ruin my birthday, at a point in time when I thought I was moving into a stage of life where we would become closer friends. His response was deep, profound, and totally lost on a then 21 year old college student. But now, in my mid 30s, as a dad myself... a teacher, coach, administrator, and someone who deals with parents/students in the front lines of education every day... I finally understand what his point was.
His answer to me was simple... (this is not a direct quote, as it has been a few years, but) He said "Bob... I placed you in that school, under their authority, and I agreed to follow their rules as we partnered together in your education and maturity. It would have been wrong of me to not think about their reactions, rules, beliefs, etc. and even more so it would have been undermining their authority to do that. If I taught you that their rules were ok to break just because they were inconvenient, then I would have been teaching you that any rule was ok to break because it was inconvenient. And eventually that would have led to you thinking MY rules were ok to break as well."
I don't know who else needs to hear this, but I know that I did, I do, and I will... over and over and over again as I walk this road of parenthood. We have to make decisions that will not be popular with our kids sometimes. We have to understand that just about everything we do is teaching them a lesson for the future. Most importantly, and I say this selfishly as an educator and former youth pastor, we cannot undermine the authority of the other men and women we have placed in their lives solely to win a few "fun parent points"!! To this day I have no idea if my parents ever had conversations with my teachers, coaches, principals, etc. All I know is that their response was ALWAYS "what did YOU do?" when bad news came home from school, or when I started to complain about some "unfair" treatment. I am sure my parents did not always agree with the play calls, the consequences, the homework load, etc. but never once did I see them belittle, bemoan, make light of, or shrug off any of my teachers, coaches or youth leaders. Were there periods of time when I was not happy with them? SURE!! Were their times when I rebelled? SURE!! But those were MY sinful, selfish and incorrect behaviors/responses and none of that can be laid at their feet. I am a better person (clearly not perfect, ask my wife and my friends!) because my parents made a decision to invest in the long term, not the fun term.
I have been in two schools now who have used a similar analogy for the education process... as Christian educators we are like a 3 legged stool, partnering between parents, church and school to invest in the lives of students and disciple them into a closer relationship with Jesus. I pray that I am a parent like mine... supporting the men and women I CHOOSE to place in the lives of my kids, and partnering with them for the long term of my kids' walk towards Jesus.
Sunday, October 22, 2017
13 years ago...
13 years ago (and some change) I had a very awkward conversation with a man from my past. I was in a hotel in Scottsdale Arizona, celebrating Easter with my family (my brother in law and sister were in the area for spring training) and a call came in from a prospective summer job. I had applied to work at a camp, Hume Lake Christian Camp, a place that had been a summer home for me since the 5th grade. I had been a summer camper in every possible scenario they offered at the time, and Hume has been and will always be one of the most sacred places in my life... a place I go to when I feel lost, a place that eases my soul, a place that brings me joy... real joy.
I had applied to work there for the summer, the only summer activity that I had yet to do, however my motives were less than pure. I was not applying to work at camp because of some deep seeded passion to serve God through investing in kids... I was running! My senior year in college had not gone as planned, and I was selfishly looking for a pause button before having to face reality. I was confident that full time ministry was in my future, but the 2nd half of my senior year had thrown me for a loop. I had made some bad decisions, had my heart broken, and was barely passing my last classes in school (thankfully my friend was dating my Business teacher's daughter!!!) I needed a respite... so I called Hume, WEEKS past the deadline to apply. My old counselor and mentor Cliff was in charge of hiring for the summer and his first question was not promising. "Are you still arrogant and full of yourself?" he asked me as we started the interview. This was not the way it was supposed to start, but I fumbled and bumbled through the interview and convinced him mainly that I needed him and Hume more than they needed me, and I would put my all into the job. I got the job and as soon as the year was over I would be headed to Hume for orientation, I couldn't have been happier!!
When you drive to Hume there are two different routes you can take... I have always driven 10-mile road. I do this because when you cross the bridge over 10 mile creek and turn around one of the final bends in the road, you see the lake through the trees and the sight always tells my soul to be at peace. It has always signaled that I am free to leave the world behind and commune with my Savior. The beauty screams of my Creator and I can hardly do justice in a description... make the drive sometime, it is worth it.
As I made the turn I knew I was home... and I felt the peace that only God can provide as I cruised into camp in front of the Pondy Lodge. I parked the car and walked into the lodge and met my roommate for the summer. A young man (older than me but whatever) who invested and poured into me that summer (and in the years since) and has impacted me in a way that I can never thank him for. I am the WOrST at staying in touch, so we don't talk as much as we should, but I am forever thankful for the friend he will always be. Little did I know that after introducing myself to him... I would meet 13 more people that would forever hold an incredibly sacred piece of my heart. I should name and thank each of you individually, but I could never find the words to do it properly. You know who you are, and I love you all!! From day one these people were a breathe of fresh air and a much needed salve for my soul. We spent the next few days getting to know each other, building trust and learning how to function as a team... we were inseparable and the tightness of this group was difficult to break. This group was so important to me that they almost cost me the greatest blessings God has ever seen fit to put in my life.
We were eating dinner one night and one of the guys was telling a story... it was a little chilly so I was wearing my Wheaton Football sweatshirt and this girl came up behind me to say hi. She asked about my sweatshirt and said something about living in the town near Wheaton... I wasn't really paying attention because I was trying to get back to the story being told at my table. I mean really... Who interrupts a story teller anyways!! =) Well, this girl went about her business, completely unimpressed by the jerk who had just blown her off. I would go on to spend the next 3 months of the summer pursuing this girl... her name was Kat, and she was/is perfect!
You see, I had intended to hide from real life for 3 months then drive down to San Diego after camp and start my life in ministry. I had intended to pour myself into kids for the summer, not thinking of anything but the present. I planned on using this time on the hill to shake off the bad year I had just had, I had plans to put life on pause for a few months and then get back to reality when I came down the hill... What I had intended to be break from life, God used as the Start of my life. 13 years ago God used life's ups and downs to put me in a place to meet the love of my life. The years have been crazy... apartment living as newlyweds... renovated office space living as a youth pastor... rental homes that couldn't contain our dog... a loooooong drive across the country to Memphis to start a new life (twice)... new jobs... having kids... changing jobs again... a new city... new roles... the same almighty God at the center of us! Thank you Kat for being such an amazing wife, awesome mother, stubborn board game player, and amazing life partner to walk this road with. God placed a lot of amazing people in my life during the Summer of '04... but he blessed me more than words can describe for allowing my path to cross yours. I love you babe... Happy 12th anniversary!!!!!
I had applied to work there for the summer, the only summer activity that I had yet to do, however my motives were less than pure. I was not applying to work at camp because of some deep seeded passion to serve God through investing in kids... I was running! My senior year in college had not gone as planned, and I was selfishly looking for a pause button before having to face reality. I was confident that full time ministry was in my future, but the 2nd half of my senior year had thrown me for a loop. I had made some bad decisions, had my heart broken, and was barely passing my last classes in school (thankfully my friend was dating my Business teacher's daughter!!!) I needed a respite... so I called Hume, WEEKS past the deadline to apply. My old counselor and mentor Cliff was in charge of hiring for the summer and his first question was not promising. "Are you still arrogant and full of yourself?" he asked me as we started the interview. This was not the way it was supposed to start, but I fumbled and bumbled through the interview and convinced him mainly that I needed him and Hume more than they needed me, and I would put my all into the job. I got the job and as soon as the year was over I would be headed to Hume for orientation, I couldn't have been happier!!
When you drive to Hume there are two different routes you can take... I have always driven 10-mile road. I do this because when you cross the bridge over 10 mile creek and turn around one of the final bends in the road, you see the lake through the trees and the sight always tells my soul to be at peace. It has always signaled that I am free to leave the world behind and commune with my Savior. The beauty screams of my Creator and I can hardly do justice in a description... make the drive sometime, it is worth it.
As I made the turn I knew I was home... and I felt the peace that only God can provide as I cruised into camp in front of the Pondy Lodge. I parked the car and walked into the lodge and met my roommate for the summer. A young man (older than me but whatever) who invested and poured into me that summer (and in the years since) and has impacted me in a way that I can never thank him for. I am the WOrST at staying in touch, so we don't talk as much as we should, but I am forever thankful for the friend he will always be. Little did I know that after introducing myself to him... I would meet 13 more people that would forever hold an incredibly sacred piece of my heart. I should name and thank each of you individually, but I could never find the words to do it properly. You know who you are, and I love you all!! From day one these people were a breathe of fresh air and a much needed salve for my soul. We spent the next few days getting to know each other, building trust and learning how to function as a team... we were inseparable and the tightness of this group was difficult to break. This group was so important to me that they almost cost me the greatest blessings God has ever seen fit to put in my life.
We were eating dinner one night and one of the guys was telling a story... it was a little chilly so I was wearing my Wheaton Football sweatshirt and this girl came up behind me to say hi. She asked about my sweatshirt and said something about living in the town near Wheaton... I wasn't really paying attention because I was trying to get back to the story being told at my table. I mean really... Who interrupts a story teller anyways!! =) Well, this girl went about her business, completely unimpressed by the jerk who had just blown her off. I would go on to spend the next 3 months of the summer pursuing this girl... her name was Kat, and she was/is perfect!
You see, I had intended to hide from real life for 3 months then drive down to San Diego after camp and start my life in ministry. I had intended to pour myself into kids for the summer, not thinking of anything but the present. I planned on using this time on the hill to shake off the bad year I had just had, I had plans to put life on pause for a few months and then get back to reality when I came down the hill... What I had intended to be break from life, God used as the Start of my life. 13 years ago God used life's ups and downs to put me in a place to meet the love of my life. The years have been crazy... apartment living as newlyweds... renovated office space living as a youth pastor... rental homes that couldn't contain our dog... a loooooong drive across the country to Memphis to start a new life (twice)... new jobs... having kids... changing jobs again... a new city... new roles... the same almighty God at the center of us! Thank you Kat for being such an amazing wife, awesome mother, stubborn board game player, and amazing life partner to walk this road with. God placed a lot of amazing people in my life during the Summer of '04... but he blessed me more than words can describe for allowing my path to cross yours. I love you babe... Happy 12th anniversary!!!!!
Friday, March 31, 2017
My hero... the inventor
One of the longest lasting and funniest inside jokes of our family comes at the expense of my dad...
Our family of four was driving north from El Cajon to Temecula to spend the day with my Mom's side of the family. My older sister was 15 or 16 years old and something had happened in the past week where she didn't listen to the advice of someone wiser than herself. I assume it was my dad, but that part of the story has been lost over the years. We were now trapped in the car, on an hour long road trip, my sister and I in the back seat, Mom was up front and Dad was driving. Mom and I were silently listening to my Dad and sister go back and forth about the previously mentioned scenario. My sister seemed to be feeling her oats a little bit as an "almost adult" and was not cowing to the "advice" of my Dad. This was a strange turn of events (usually dad and sis were on the same team) and was starting to turn this car ride in an awkward direction. That is when my dad decided to drive his point home with an analogy...
"Imagine your dad was the inventor of the computer and spent his whole life developing and perfecting his invention. You watch him work all throughout your childhood and see all of the success he is now seeing from the experience he has gained. You go to school to study computer technology and start your own career in the field. Your father, the expert, comes to you and gives you advice on what to do. Don't you think it would be a good idea to listen to someone who has been there before and walked the same path?" (not a direct quote of the story... just a VERY short synopsis)
My dad finished the story, and the car went silent. My sister stubbornly crossed her arms and stared out the window, my mom and I continued in our silence (yes, hard to believe for either of us I know) and my Dad sat triumphantly in the drivers' seat occasionally checking the rearview mirror with a less than humble look on his face. The silence continued...and continued... and continued. Five minutes turned into ten, and my Mom started shifting nervously in her seat trying to find a way to recover the "quality" time of the road trip. Finally she decided to break the ice... "So Bob, how was your week?" Without skipping a beat and with perfect (in my memory at least) the young and sarcastic little brother in me responded "I don't know mom, I am still trying to figure out dad's weird story about computers!" Laughter erupted from the whole car and the ice was broken... Little brother saved the day!!
I have no idea if that is an accurate representation of the actual events that transpired, but I do know that at least once during any family get together since that time, someone will break out in "advice mode" and will be immediately met with "If your dad made computers for a living..." and laughter is had by all.
This story popped into my head today when I saw my mom start posting pictures from our childhood in celebration of my dad's retirement. My sister and I sitting side by side on a Midway Plumbing sign and the sight of the old Bronco (most definitely the car we were in when the story happened) brought back floods of memories good feelings. The odd part of this family joke is that it is true in so many ways. The irony is that my Dad is actually the inventor from the story that had already successfully walked the path and is in possession of the blue prints of how to do things the right way.
By no means is my father perfect, and we have had plenty of disagreements, but I am constantly reminded of the amazing man he is. Our pastor taught a sermon on Fathers day one year and challenged the fathers in the room to live life in such a way that your children want to emulate you. I can say with the utmost sincerity that my Dad has succeeded on that score. He is the husband I hope to be my wife, the father I hope to be for my kids, the uncle I want to be to my nieces, the leader of men, a boss of distinction and integrity, an employee above reproach, and a grandfather of all grandfathers.
By his actions he has taught me more than he will ever know, and most importantly because his words and deeds have always been consistent. Watching him as a son, a player, an employee, and now as a friend has been a privilege and without a doubt the single most influential education I could ever have asked for. I thank God every day that he blessed me with my dad and for giving me such an example of how to live as a Godly man of integrity. I pray often that I can be half the man you are. I love you Pop and I hate that we can't be there with you today when you get home, but there is a fishing hole with your name on it when you get our here!!
Our family of four was driving north from El Cajon to Temecula to spend the day with my Mom's side of the family. My older sister was 15 or 16 years old and something had happened in the past week where she didn't listen to the advice of someone wiser than herself. I assume it was my dad, but that part of the story has been lost over the years. We were now trapped in the car, on an hour long road trip, my sister and I in the back seat, Mom was up front and Dad was driving. Mom and I were silently listening to my Dad and sister go back and forth about the previously mentioned scenario. My sister seemed to be feeling her oats a little bit as an "almost adult" and was not cowing to the "advice" of my Dad. This was a strange turn of events (usually dad and sis were on the same team) and was starting to turn this car ride in an awkward direction. That is when my dad decided to drive his point home with an analogy...
"Imagine your dad was the inventor of the computer and spent his whole life developing and perfecting his invention. You watch him work all throughout your childhood and see all of the success he is now seeing from the experience he has gained. You go to school to study computer technology and start your own career in the field. Your father, the expert, comes to you and gives you advice on what to do. Don't you think it would be a good idea to listen to someone who has been there before and walked the same path?" (not a direct quote of the story... just a VERY short synopsis)
My dad finished the story, and the car went silent. My sister stubbornly crossed her arms and stared out the window, my mom and I continued in our silence (yes, hard to believe for either of us I know) and my Dad sat triumphantly in the drivers' seat occasionally checking the rearview mirror with a less than humble look on his face. The silence continued...and continued... and continued. Five minutes turned into ten, and my Mom started shifting nervously in her seat trying to find a way to recover the "quality" time of the road trip. Finally she decided to break the ice... "So Bob, how was your week?" Without skipping a beat and with perfect (in my memory at least) the young and sarcastic little brother in me responded "I don't know mom, I am still trying to figure out dad's weird story about computers!" Laughter erupted from the whole car and the ice was broken... Little brother saved the day!!
I have no idea if that is an accurate representation of the actual events that transpired, but I do know that at least once during any family get together since that time, someone will break out in "advice mode" and will be immediately met with "If your dad made computers for a living..." and laughter is had by all.
This story popped into my head today when I saw my mom start posting pictures from our childhood in celebration of my dad's retirement. My sister and I sitting side by side on a Midway Plumbing sign and the sight of the old Bronco (most definitely the car we were in when the story happened) brought back floods of memories good feelings. The odd part of this family joke is that it is true in so many ways. The irony is that my Dad is actually the inventor from the story that had already successfully walked the path and is in possession of the blue prints of how to do things the right way.
By no means is my father perfect, and we have had plenty of disagreements, but I am constantly reminded of the amazing man he is. Our pastor taught a sermon on Fathers day one year and challenged the fathers in the room to live life in such a way that your children want to emulate you. I can say with the utmost sincerity that my Dad has succeeded on that score. He is the husband I hope to be my wife, the father I hope to be for my kids, the uncle I want to be to my nieces, the leader of men, a boss of distinction and integrity, an employee above reproach, and a grandfather of all grandfathers.
By his actions he has taught me more than he will ever know, and most importantly because his words and deeds have always been consistent. Watching him as a son, a player, an employee, and now as a friend has been a privilege and without a doubt the single most influential education I could ever have asked for. I thank God every day that he blessed me with my dad and for giving me such an example of how to live as a Godly man of integrity. I pray often that I can be half the man you are. I love you Pop and I hate that we can't be there with you today when you get home, but there is a fishing hole with your name on it when you get our here!!
Sunday, July 17, 2016
Whose Life Matters?
Whose life matters? This questions seems to be at the forefront of EVERYTHING right now. On one hand the conversation has been started, and that is always a good thing... but on the other hand, the anger has started to flow from both sides of the issue and in today's day and age of social media and instant communication that can be more harmful than good. I will try to keep my thoughts organized, but I make no promises.
Now, let me take a second to address a few things. First... I assume that if your last name does not start with J or W you are probably here by mistake, and I appreciate you reading this all the same. I do not assume that my opinion carries significant weight or that everyone is entitled to my opinion. I know that I am wrong as much, if not more, than right. And I promise that I am far more interested in having a conversation about this subject than I am having a bunch of people "like" my words or justify their own opinions because I also share their views. Now... on to the reason for this post.
Lately I have been emotionally strained every time I turn on the news or log into social media. The stuff that has been making news infuriates me. I have grown up around people in uniform. I remember the day in 4th grade when my best friend's dad retired as a contractor and joined the Harbor Police. I remember watching in horror as my best friend's little brother was attacked by his neighbor's police dog because we were mistaken for the training simulation it had undergone earlier that day. I remember watching soldier after soldier salute the truck I was in as I drove with my friend and his Marine Corps General father through the base they lived on. I remember placing a bullet proof vest over my head when the father of one of my students talked to our small group about what it REALLY felt like to need armor on your body just to do your job. I remember watching countless friends of mine crossing the Atlantic to fight in Afghanistan and Iraq. I remember hearing the worry and strain in the voice of one of the most important women in my life when she told me her husband was joining the police force, and that our immediate family would now be emotionally responsible for all that comes with being a Blue Family. All of these men and women willingly and voluntarily put themselves into a category of Warriors that places themselves between me and evil on a daily basis, and I can never express the depth of my gratitude for their service and sacrifice.
Now... most of these stories and people are from my childhood in sunny southern California. San Diego, in particular, is a very diverse city. Whites, Blacks, Hispanics, Mexicans, Chaldeans, Persians, Asians, Indians, etc, etc, etc, etc. (if I have offended you with the "grouping" of your race/ethnicity I apologize and I am open to hearing a better way to describe large groups of similar people). This diversity obviously leads to some exclusion, some humor at the expense of others, and definitely some overt racism and bigotry. I assume, knowing what I know now, that it was probably a lot worse than I ever experienced, but I digress from my original point. The point is...when I moved to the South 8 years ago my world was rocked. I saw true racism... racism seeded deep into the roots of social protocol. Racism in the White community, Black community and every other community that is represented. To say that I had ANY understanding of what my black friends here had ever experienced would be an offense. We moved here in 2009 and I have personally witnessed students transferring schools because their parents wouldn't let their son play for a black coach. I have heard numerous athletes and students call people "ni****s" without batting an eye. I have actually had an argument with students in my Econ class where they argued that Black people were better off as slaves because the years after emancipation were so difficult that their lives would have been better if they had just remained the LEGAL PROPERTY of another human being. These conversations are not from a history book... This is todays young generation, a small sample size to be sure, and the hate and division is real... very real.
So, why do I write these two very different paragraphs? I am ANGRY, that's why. I am so pissed off on a nightly basis that I find myself being short with my own family because I have nowhere to vent my frustration. People are ATTACKING men in uniform... Men and Women that I love... Men and Women that are as close to me as family and that makes me want to hurt someone. It infuriates me... it puts me on edge in a way I have never experienced.
On top of that... Some of my best friends and students are scared to walk down the street because of the actions of a few selfish, misguided, bigoted officers that have helped to create a barriers between good cops and the people they are sworn to protect. People I love are being mistreated, labeled and singled out.
Before I go any further I want you to know that I will not be hash-tagging any movement... including "all lives matter"... because I am not interested in furthering agendas or joining hand in hand with people that I do not know or that I do not see eye to eye with. Do I believe that all lives matter... YES. I have to. God COMMANDS it! We are all created in HIS IMAGE and for that reason alone we are all supposed to treat each other as image-bearers of God. We were created and placed in a world by a loving God... but things are not as they OUGHT to be. Sin showed up... hateful, vile, disgusting sin that turns us, as brothers and sisters, against one another and makes it near impossible to see each others plight. Soooo....
If you have never experienced the emotions that come along with sending a family member to war (foreign or domestic) and worrying every night whether they will come home or not... then listen to someone who has!
If you have never had to watch your black friend sit quietly and peacefully while he was told he and his "ni****" friends are what's wrong with this country... then listen to someone who has!
If you have an opinion that causes more division and less harmony... keep it to yourself!!!
If you have nothing positive to say and refuse to listen to others no matter how rational they might be... you are the problem!
If you are unwilling to separate the vast majority of law abiding citizens of a certain color and instead focus only on those who break the law, continuing a long line of bigotry and hatred... you are the problem!
If you refuse to see the fact that 99.99% of police officers across the nation are amazing humans and sacrificial servants, and that only a small few are "bad apples"... you are the problem!
The fact is this... there are some racist, deplorable police officers who need to have their badges stripped and jobs taken away... but they are the minority. And in the same light, there are some people of color who break laws and resist and act a fool... and that will never end well.
The problem that I see is an unwillingness to see beyond the scope of our own experience.
- I have ONLY experienced racists cops, so they all must be and anyone who says different is an ignorant racist.
- Black people are ALWAYS committing crimes, they probably deserve to be profiled
- I have never seen black people treated poorly so they must be making it up and just looking for handouts.
- This cop over here killed an unarmed black man, so ALL cops probably want to kill unarmed black men.
- Etc, etc, etc.
Can we all PLEASE realize that we come from 50 very different states that are all broken down into even more different and diverse communities. NONE of us has had the same upbringing and we need to share and talk and love and pray for each other in this time of trials. If you pretend to know the pain of someone else and use that false understanding to belittle their feelings, than you are wrong. I have never walked the streets as an African American man, so if I try to tell one that what he is feeling is or isn't real... well, that just makes me an idiot. My perspective is not his, and I cannot even begin to empathize with what his life might be like. So, I am going to avoid trying to.
Here are the facts... people are angry! So angry that we are acting in ways that are not at all in line with our typical personalities. Emotions run high when people that we care about are threatened, and emotions run even higher when we are told that the emotions we are feeling are somehow wrong or unjustified! If your emotion boils over into a fit of rage that carries you to take actions that end the lives of innocent men and women... well, I hope you receive the death penalty. If your emotion boils over into a fit of rage that makes you want to riot and destroy property... then I hope you get arrested and go to jail. If your emotion boils over into a fit of rage that puts you and your friends in the street blocking traffic peacefully until your otherwise voiceless community is heard... well, I can't fault you for that, but you should still probably receive a traffic citation.
I guess my whole rant comes down to this... please make sure that we are not spreading more hate and division amongst our friend groups. Make sure that we are always looking at ways to solve the problem, while truly taking other people's feelings and histories into account. And please make sure you are praying for this situation and that the leadership of our country can find a way to get outside of the politics of the situation and look for real solutions to this issue.
I hope this rant makes sense... if not disregard.
Now, let me take a second to address a few things. First... I assume that if your last name does not start with J or W you are probably here by mistake, and I appreciate you reading this all the same. I do not assume that my opinion carries significant weight or that everyone is entitled to my opinion. I know that I am wrong as much, if not more, than right. And I promise that I am far more interested in having a conversation about this subject than I am having a bunch of people "like" my words or justify their own opinions because I also share their views. Now... on to the reason for this post.
Lately I have been emotionally strained every time I turn on the news or log into social media. The stuff that has been making news infuriates me. I have grown up around people in uniform. I remember the day in 4th grade when my best friend's dad retired as a contractor and joined the Harbor Police. I remember watching in horror as my best friend's little brother was attacked by his neighbor's police dog because we were mistaken for the training simulation it had undergone earlier that day. I remember watching soldier after soldier salute the truck I was in as I drove with my friend and his Marine Corps General father through the base they lived on. I remember placing a bullet proof vest over my head when the father of one of my students talked to our small group about what it REALLY felt like to need armor on your body just to do your job. I remember watching countless friends of mine crossing the Atlantic to fight in Afghanistan and Iraq. I remember hearing the worry and strain in the voice of one of the most important women in my life when she told me her husband was joining the police force, and that our immediate family would now be emotionally responsible for all that comes with being a Blue Family. All of these men and women willingly and voluntarily put themselves into a category of Warriors that places themselves between me and evil on a daily basis, and I can never express the depth of my gratitude for their service and sacrifice.
Now... most of these stories and people are from my childhood in sunny southern California. San Diego, in particular, is a very diverse city. Whites, Blacks, Hispanics, Mexicans, Chaldeans, Persians, Asians, Indians, etc, etc, etc, etc. (if I have offended you with the "grouping" of your race/ethnicity I apologize and I am open to hearing a better way to describe large groups of similar people). This diversity obviously leads to some exclusion, some humor at the expense of others, and definitely some overt racism and bigotry. I assume, knowing what I know now, that it was probably a lot worse than I ever experienced, but I digress from my original point. The point is...when I moved to the South 8 years ago my world was rocked. I saw true racism... racism seeded deep into the roots of social protocol. Racism in the White community, Black community and every other community that is represented. To say that I had ANY understanding of what my black friends here had ever experienced would be an offense. We moved here in 2009 and I have personally witnessed students transferring schools because their parents wouldn't let their son play for a black coach. I have heard numerous athletes and students call people "ni****s" without batting an eye. I have actually had an argument with students in my Econ class where they argued that Black people were better off as slaves because the years after emancipation were so difficult that their lives would have been better if they had just remained the LEGAL PROPERTY of another human being. These conversations are not from a history book... This is todays young generation, a small sample size to be sure, and the hate and division is real... very real.
So, why do I write these two very different paragraphs? I am ANGRY, that's why. I am so pissed off on a nightly basis that I find myself being short with my own family because I have nowhere to vent my frustration. People are ATTACKING men in uniform... Men and Women that I love... Men and Women that are as close to me as family and that makes me want to hurt someone. It infuriates me... it puts me on edge in a way I have never experienced.
On top of that... Some of my best friends and students are scared to walk down the street because of the actions of a few selfish, misguided, bigoted officers that have helped to create a barriers between good cops and the people they are sworn to protect. People I love are being mistreated, labeled and singled out.
Before I go any further I want you to know that I will not be hash-tagging any movement... including "all lives matter"... because I am not interested in furthering agendas or joining hand in hand with people that I do not know or that I do not see eye to eye with. Do I believe that all lives matter... YES. I have to. God COMMANDS it! We are all created in HIS IMAGE and for that reason alone we are all supposed to treat each other as image-bearers of God. We were created and placed in a world by a loving God... but things are not as they OUGHT to be. Sin showed up... hateful, vile, disgusting sin that turns us, as brothers and sisters, against one another and makes it near impossible to see each others plight. Soooo....
If you have never experienced the emotions that come along with sending a family member to war (foreign or domestic) and worrying every night whether they will come home or not... then listen to someone who has!
If you have never had to watch your black friend sit quietly and peacefully while he was told he and his "ni****" friends are what's wrong with this country... then listen to someone who has!
If you have an opinion that causes more division and less harmony... keep it to yourself!!!
If you have nothing positive to say and refuse to listen to others no matter how rational they might be... you are the problem!
If you are unwilling to separate the vast majority of law abiding citizens of a certain color and instead focus only on those who break the law, continuing a long line of bigotry and hatred... you are the problem!
If you refuse to see the fact that 99.99% of police officers across the nation are amazing humans and sacrificial servants, and that only a small few are "bad apples"... you are the problem!
The fact is this... there are some racist, deplorable police officers who need to have their badges stripped and jobs taken away... but they are the minority. And in the same light, there are some people of color who break laws and resist and act a fool... and that will never end well.
The problem that I see is an unwillingness to see beyond the scope of our own experience.
- I have ONLY experienced racists cops, so they all must be and anyone who says different is an ignorant racist.
- Black people are ALWAYS committing crimes, they probably deserve to be profiled
- I have never seen black people treated poorly so they must be making it up and just looking for handouts.
- This cop over here killed an unarmed black man, so ALL cops probably want to kill unarmed black men.
- Etc, etc, etc.
Can we all PLEASE realize that we come from 50 very different states that are all broken down into even more different and diverse communities. NONE of us has had the same upbringing and we need to share and talk and love and pray for each other in this time of trials. If you pretend to know the pain of someone else and use that false understanding to belittle their feelings, than you are wrong. I have never walked the streets as an African American man, so if I try to tell one that what he is feeling is or isn't real... well, that just makes me an idiot. My perspective is not his, and I cannot even begin to empathize with what his life might be like. So, I am going to avoid trying to.
Here are the facts... people are angry! So angry that we are acting in ways that are not at all in line with our typical personalities. Emotions run high when people that we care about are threatened, and emotions run even higher when we are told that the emotions we are feeling are somehow wrong or unjustified! If your emotion boils over into a fit of rage that carries you to take actions that end the lives of innocent men and women... well, I hope you receive the death penalty. If your emotion boils over into a fit of rage that makes you want to riot and destroy property... then I hope you get arrested and go to jail. If your emotion boils over into a fit of rage that puts you and your friends in the street blocking traffic peacefully until your otherwise voiceless community is heard... well, I can't fault you for that, but you should still probably receive a traffic citation.
I guess my whole rant comes down to this... please make sure that we are not spreading more hate and division amongst our friend groups. Make sure that we are always looking at ways to solve the problem, while truly taking other people's feelings and histories into account. And please make sure you are praying for this situation and that the leadership of our country can find a way to get outside of the politics of the situation and look for real solutions to this issue.
I hope this rant makes sense... if not disregard.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Project Restoration
A few years ago our in-house worldview guru, Bible teacher, philosopher and chapel planner (this is not his actual title, and nowhere near the extent of his role at school) had an idea for chapel that has turned into an amazing yearly tradition. The students are allowed to bring their cell phones into chapel with them and use them to text questions to a panel of teachers. The cell phone in use has very few, if any, of the students' numbers saved into them (only the athletes that the owner coaches or students he mentors) therefore allowing a degree of anonymity to the questions. This allows the students to pose questions that they have been to scared/shy/embarrassed/etc. to ask in person. As you can imagine, the number of questions hits the hundreds very rapidly and there is nowhere near the time to answer them all in a 45 minute chapel. The panel scrolls through and answers the "top" priority questions as best as they can in the time allotted. As chapel winds down the students are informed that the questions that do not get answered in chapel will be posted on the hallway walls with answers in the next few days. This year however our chapel director went a different route.
This year the questions were lumped into similar categories and the students were allowed to vote on the top 8 they wanted answered in a follow up chapel. This has created a great opportunity for a lot of teachers to interact with our students in a nontraditional manner. One of the questions that was voted on for a follow up was one of restoration. The question asked why a Christian school would expel a student and in a sense "kick" a brother/sister while they were down, or in other words "punish the struggling". I have a few students that meet in my classroom during an off period and they wanted to continue the conversation about the topic. Apparently this generation of young adults has a different interpretation of the restoration process than I was raised with and it started a great conversation and has continued to roll around in my head for the past few weeks. When things roll around in my head they tend to pop up in the weirdest situations...
This past weekend I was placed in an awkward situation. We had a pipe burst from the cold. Luckily it was a non-pressurized drain pipe and not a water pipe. I called my dad to bounce some ideas off him (he is the plumbing guru) and then headed to Lowe's to get some parts. As I unscrewed boards from our deck and crawled through the "mud" to get to the broken pipe, my mind started to wander. I had to cut the broken section out of the pipe and fasten a custom cut new piece into the now missing section. It only took a few minutes, but I started to think about how much easier it would be if I was installing this pipe new as opposed to trying to restore the old pipe. Gluing PVC pipe together is one of the simplest tasks in plumbing, when you are doing it in a "new construction" setting. When you have to replace pieces, both ends are in a fixed position and it limits the ability to fit the new piece. (Like I said before, my mind wanders a lot!) Another conversation popped into my head about this time, one that my dad and I have had a few times in the past. Building things from new is much easier than fixing old stuff. The restoration problem is tough. You have to sand, saw, destroy, hammer, mend the old pieces before you can paint, glue, or re-finish that piece. Before the "broken" item can be made to look new again it must be put through a process. That process is hard, and can be painful.
When Kat and I bought our house we repainted EVERYTHING. Well, almost everything. I still have some doors to finish, and I keep putting it off because it makes me mad. I have to spend hours sanding off the old stained finish before the paint will properly adhere to the wood. Then I have to add primer, sand the primer, and apply the finish paint so the doors will look good. Without the sanding, the removal of the unwanted stain, the door do not come out as planned.
We also replaced the floors. In order to put in new tile, we had to remove the old. It took scraping, jack-hammering and leveling. We had to rip out the carpet and padding. With each thing we changed, work was involved. Demolition was involved. Sweat poured as we tried to make our new dreams fit with the old floor-plan. All of these things popped into my head as I was crawling around in the mud attempting to restore my old broken pipe, into a functioning piece of our plumbing system.
As these thoughts rolled around in my head I made a connection to the conversation I had with those students in my classroom. Restoration is painful. For the one restoring, sure, but even more so for the item being restored. In order for proper restoration to happen, the door has to be sanded, the broken section of pipe has to be removed, the floor has to be ripped out. Only once the broken or aged item has been brought down to raw material, can the restorer attempt a proper restoration. I think God works the same way with us. In order to restore our spiritual lives or behaviors some sort of process has to be undertaken. Oftentimes God uses our community to help in this process, especially if we have willingly joined a community of believers committed to pointing us to the Gospel. Restoration, in a spiritual sense, is not easy or pain free. It involves consequences. A word foreign to some of our kids these days. Our kids want to be restored with none of the pain that comes from the process. They want it microwaved, they want it in drive-thru fashion. Anything else cannot be Christian, can it? God wouldn't put us through pain! He wouldn't want any of His children to be "judged", right? I can't help but cringe from this thought process, but we see it all the time. Our students can't be cut from a team, or earn a bad grade. They surely can't be told they are wrong, or held accountable for their actions. That would be "un-Christian"!
We need to let kids know that they are not perfect. They make mistakes and these mistakes bring with them consequences that hurt, that are uncomfortable. This is ON PURPOSE!!! This helps make us into better people! This transforms us into a better version of our fallen self.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Daddy...
I want to preface this rant by saying that I teach Econ, not English. I am very self conscience now that I work at a school, especially since my lunch table gives out the sarcasm in the same way I do! If I ever try to publish this in "boots and shovels" magazine I promise to have the English department edit this for me.
Daddy... more accurately Da-Da. That is my new title. These two syllables have done more to me than any other two syllables since "I do".
The last 3 years have been an emotional roller coaster for me. When I started teaching I started a new habit. This habit was very humbling, I had to apologize. I started apologizing to my dad, frequently. When I started to have interactions with parents, or just the fruits of their labor, I started to realize how lucky I had been to have a strict, intrusive, over-bearing, loving, caring, and committed father. I could write all day about how much my dad means to me, and I am sure I will soon enough, but today's topic is down a different track. What kind of Da-Da am I going to be? Will Emmett have the same frustrated thoughts about me during his teens? Will he ever come to realize that I love him more than he can ever imagine? That every "no" is meant as an "I love you". That every "yes" is a confirmation of my trust in him. That sometimes I will let him fall and get hurt, to make him stronger. That sometimes I will build every possible fence around him because the fall will be too far, and irrecoverable. Will I be patient when I see anger and hate in his eyes because of those fences? How will I deal with the hurt when he stubbornly breaks through that fence because he is just like his father? Will I have the strength to be his father and not his friend? Will I be able to resist living through him? Will I have to learn how to coach him? Can I be his coach and his dad without either of them suffering? These are some of the thoughts that have not left my head for 19 months. These are the thoughts that were in my head this morning at church.
This morning we had a guest speaker and I think he did a great job. I have to admit that I only caught about 50% of the sermon. He said something very early on that sent my A.D.D. into overdrive and I began to daydream. He was speaking from a passage in Luke, when Jesus was being tempted by Satan. The point he was making had something to do with identity in the Father. Not in what YOU do for the Father to earn his love, or make him happy, or what you deserve. All of these thoughts revolve around some sort of ability you have over how much God loves you. When the preacher started to talk about the Father's love, he lost me for a bit. I started to think about all the times I have thought myself too evil, dirty or unforgivable to God. All the times I have sinned and how God has to hate me for throwing His love back in His face. All the nonsense that I let interfere with my relationship with Him. Then I thought about Emmett. The kid who pees on me when I am not in the mood. The kid who poops in the bathtub. The kid who swings his plastic hammer at my face, occasional striking true! The kid who says "no" with a wicked, devious smile on his face. Obviously these are "cute" little toddler things, but they are not fun. They are not ideal. And as much as Kat and I say otherwise, he is not perfect. He is a flawed little sinner, but I love the mess out of him!!
Let me give a little background to the thoughts that my church daydream sent through my head. When Kat and I decided to start a family it was a shock. We had spent 7 years letting everyone know that we were probably not going to have kids. We didn't want them. Neither of us were really "baby people". I loved my niece, and I had some friends who had pretty cute kids, but I never saw pictures of babies and went gaga. I knowingly married a woman who had the same thoughts. We had been through enough in the pursuit of ministry that we were never going to say "never" or try to let God know what our plan was, but it was basically a never. I was going to be a youth pastor and I always said I had 30 teenagers and that was birth control enough for anyone!! I don't know if it was gradual, sudden, expected or not. I am still not clear on who brought it up the first time, but sometime after 7 years of marriage, and thousands of awkward comments and "friendly chats" from our friends and families, we decided to have a baby. *(I will always say "we" and I do not care what some of you think. I know that Kat went through labor and I didn't, but I refuse to let my role as a father be diminished to a secondary role. I know that this is not what some ladies mean when they cluck about men saying "we are pregnant", and I know that my body did not deal with the pain and discomfort, but I do know that I was there, always and for anything. It hurt me to watch any pain or discomfort that Kat went through, and I would have taken every bit of that pain if I could have. Anyways, back to my original thoughts)
WE decided to start a family and looking back on the first 19 tiring, stress filled months I cannot believe that we ever thought about doing anything different. I have never experienced love like this before. I love my wife, obviously, and it is an amazing love when two people choose each other and walk down the road of life together, falling deeper into love all the time. However, I saw the ultrasound of my boy and I was in love. I have loved Emmett since before he had a name. He has never taken a breath without having 100% of my love. It is different than anything else, and I see now the struggles my dad and my Dad must have gone through for the last 32 years. Like I said, I will write about my dad later, but tonight I want to talk about my Dad.
I don't think I have ever, nor could I ever have fully understood the Father's love for me until Emmett was placed into my care. I realized something this morning during my daydream, I realized that there is NOTHING that I can do, good or bad, to change the way my Father loves me. As we grow up, and become "educated", we are inundated with the idea that performance, status, earnings, success, etc. are what characterize us. In the christian life, this worldly brainwashing hinders us from embracing the enormity of God's love for us. We are missing out people, and it is OUR fault. Our fault as a church, as friends, as teachers as whatever. We are not learning or teaching the right lessons, this has to stop. We have to do better.
Let me see if I can corral my thoughts by asking you this... Do you love your kids? (if you don't have kids imagine) Of course you do, even when they piss you off. (I know that is rude language but isn't it how we feel sometimes!!) You love them when they let you down, that is why it hurts so bad. They disappoint, you love. They break the rules, you love. They move out of the state, you love! NO MATTER WHAT. If we are made in the image of our Creator, and He uses the parent-child relationship as an example of how much He cares for us, then how can we not assume the same principle applies to how much God loves us. Actually, that is a horrible understatement. We are so fallen, and so decrepit that whatever God feels for me has to make my love for Emmett look like hate. Well, maybe not hate, but definitely not love in the same category. Right? If I have loved Emmett since before he drew breath, what does that say about God loving me? If all my son has to do is pat his chest (his way of saying please) for my heart to melt, what does that say about God's love for me? If I am proud of my son for the crawling, stumbling, and falling that led to numerous bumps and bruises on the way to walking, what does that say about the way in which God watches me learn how to walk in Him? Does he get angry and call me a loser, or does he give me a "great job, you took 7 steps this time!!, now try again". Maybe I am way off the mark, and maybe I should have actually listened to the speaker this morning, but I cannot help to think that I have been serving a weak god for a long time, a god I created. A god that is a figment of my imagination. A god that I do not have to be fearful of because he is small. A god who I can understand, and therefore outsmart. I have been placing God into a box, trying to make sure that I could wrap my head around the thing that I "worship". By placing Him into this box, I have created a human version of the Almighty, and I have been missing out. I have been missing out on something that is infinite, awesome, and terrifying at the same time. Maybe, just maybe, God is trying to tell us something from the relationships He puts us in here on earth, and I think that lesson is "I LOVE YOU, and you have no freaking clue what that means yet.... but you will"
Daddy... more accurately Da-Da. That is my new title. These two syllables have done more to me than any other two syllables since "I do".
The last 3 years have been an emotional roller coaster for me. When I started teaching I started a new habit. This habit was very humbling, I had to apologize. I started apologizing to my dad, frequently. When I started to have interactions with parents, or just the fruits of their labor, I started to realize how lucky I had been to have a strict, intrusive, over-bearing, loving, caring, and committed father. I could write all day about how much my dad means to me, and I am sure I will soon enough, but today's topic is down a different track. What kind of Da-Da am I going to be? Will Emmett have the same frustrated thoughts about me during his teens? Will he ever come to realize that I love him more than he can ever imagine? That every "no" is meant as an "I love you". That every "yes" is a confirmation of my trust in him. That sometimes I will let him fall and get hurt, to make him stronger. That sometimes I will build every possible fence around him because the fall will be too far, and irrecoverable. Will I be patient when I see anger and hate in his eyes because of those fences? How will I deal with the hurt when he stubbornly breaks through that fence because he is just like his father? Will I have the strength to be his father and not his friend? Will I be able to resist living through him? Will I have to learn how to coach him? Can I be his coach and his dad without either of them suffering? These are some of the thoughts that have not left my head for 19 months. These are the thoughts that were in my head this morning at church.
This morning we had a guest speaker and I think he did a great job. I have to admit that I only caught about 50% of the sermon. He said something very early on that sent my A.D.D. into overdrive and I began to daydream. He was speaking from a passage in Luke, when Jesus was being tempted by Satan. The point he was making had something to do with identity in the Father. Not in what YOU do for the Father to earn his love, or make him happy, or what you deserve. All of these thoughts revolve around some sort of ability you have over how much God loves you. When the preacher started to talk about the Father's love, he lost me for a bit. I started to think about all the times I have thought myself too evil, dirty or unforgivable to God. All the times I have sinned and how God has to hate me for throwing His love back in His face. All the nonsense that I let interfere with my relationship with Him. Then I thought about Emmett. The kid who pees on me when I am not in the mood. The kid who poops in the bathtub. The kid who swings his plastic hammer at my face, occasional striking true! The kid who says "no" with a wicked, devious smile on his face. Obviously these are "cute" little toddler things, but they are not fun. They are not ideal. And as much as Kat and I say otherwise, he is not perfect. He is a flawed little sinner, but I love the mess out of him!!
Let me give a little background to the thoughts that my church daydream sent through my head. When Kat and I decided to start a family it was a shock. We had spent 7 years letting everyone know that we were probably not going to have kids. We didn't want them. Neither of us were really "baby people". I loved my niece, and I had some friends who had pretty cute kids, but I never saw pictures of babies and went gaga. I knowingly married a woman who had the same thoughts. We had been through enough in the pursuit of ministry that we were never going to say "never" or try to let God know what our plan was, but it was basically a never. I was going to be a youth pastor and I always said I had 30 teenagers and that was birth control enough for anyone!! I don't know if it was gradual, sudden, expected or not. I am still not clear on who brought it up the first time, but sometime after 7 years of marriage, and thousands of awkward comments and "friendly chats" from our friends and families, we decided to have a baby. *(I will always say "we" and I do not care what some of you think. I know that Kat went through labor and I didn't, but I refuse to let my role as a father be diminished to a secondary role. I know that this is not what some ladies mean when they cluck about men saying "we are pregnant", and I know that my body did not deal with the pain and discomfort, but I do know that I was there, always and for anything. It hurt me to watch any pain or discomfort that Kat went through, and I would have taken every bit of that pain if I could have. Anyways, back to my original thoughts)
WE decided to start a family and looking back on the first 19 tiring, stress filled months I cannot believe that we ever thought about doing anything different. I have never experienced love like this before. I love my wife, obviously, and it is an amazing love when two people choose each other and walk down the road of life together, falling deeper into love all the time. However, I saw the ultrasound of my boy and I was in love. I have loved Emmett since before he had a name. He has never taken a breath without having 100% of my love. It is different than anything else, and I see now the struggles my dad and my Dad must have gone through for the last 32 years. Like I said, I will write about my dad later, but tonight I want to talk about my Dad.
I don't think I have ever, nor could I ever have fully understood the Father's love for me until Emmett was placed into my care. I realized something this morning during my daydream, I realized that there is NOTHING that I can do, good or bad, to change the way my Father loves me. As we grow up, and become "educated", we are inundated with the idea that performance, status, earnings, success, etc. are what characterize us. In the christian life, this worldly brainwashing hinders us from embracing the enormity of God's love for us. We are missing out people, and it is OUR fault. Our fault as a church, as friends, as teachers as whatever. We are not learning or teaching the right lessons, this has to stop. We have to do better.
Let me see if I can corral my thoughts by asking you this... Do you love your kids? (if you don't have kids imagine) Of course you do, even when they piss you off. (I know that is rude language but isn't it how we feel sometimes!!) You love them when they let you down, that is why it hurts so bad. They disappoint, you love. They break the rules, you love. They move out of the state, you love! NO MATTER WHAT. If we are made in the image of our Creator, and He uses the parent-child relationship as an example of how much He cares for us, then how can we not assume the same principle applies to how much God loves us. Actually, that is a horrible understatement. We are so fallen, and so decrepit that whatever God feels for me has to make my love for Emmett look like hate. Well, maybe not hate, but definitely not love in the same category. Right? If I have loved Emmett since before he drew breath, what does that say about God loving me? If all my son has to do is pat his chest (his way of saying please) for my heart to melt, what does that say about God's love for me? If I am proud of my son for the crawling, stumbling, and falling that led to numerous bumps and bruises on the way to walking, what does that say about the way in which God watches me learn how to walk in Him? Does he get angry and call me a loser, or does he give me a "great job, you took 7 steps this time!!, now try again". Maybe I am way off the mark, and maybe I should have actually listened to the speaker this morning, but I cannot help to think that I have been serving a weak god for a long time, a god I created. A god that is a figment of my imagination. A god that I do not have to be fearful of because he is small. A god who I can understand, and therefore outsmart. I have been placing God into a box, trying to make sure that I could wrap my head around the thing that I "worship". By placing Him into this box, I have created a human version of the Almighty, and I have been missing out. I have been missing out on something that is infinite, awesome, and terrifying at the same time. Maybe, just maybe, God is trying to tell us something from the relationships He puts us in here on earth, and I think that lesson is "I LOVE YOU, and you have no freaking clue what that means yet.... but you will"
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