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Dad Revelations

Dad Revelations: Sing Anyway

At work, I was asked to do a voice-over for an instructional video, so I had been using a recorder app on my phone to practice and playback. On the ride home, I was singing along to something on Country radio. Now, when the mood is right, and the weather is right, and the song is just right, there’s nothing better than singing along on a car ride. It was one of those songs that just felt good to sing. Out of pure curiosity, I wondered if it sounded as pleasant recorded on my phone. So I quickly tapped the record icon and let it go.

I should’ve let it go when I had the idea to record. I crossed the point of no return, when you can’t un-hear something you’ve heard. Listening to the playback, I certainly didn’t decide to turn around and head to Music Row. Let’s just say, it wasn’t good.

It was a bit of a hit to my ego. In general, I know I sing fine. I was in chorus, I lead singing at church, I know a bit of music theory. I’m like 3rd-place-karaoke-contest kind of good. Maybe it was just the phone’s poor sound quality… yeah, that’s it.

But I love to sing, especially the ones that feel like they’re just right in your zone. Like it physically feels good to sing it loud. In college, on the 3-hour ride back to school after a weekend away, I would wear my voice out and be hoarse the next day. “OOOOOHHH We’re half way there, OOOOHHHH OHH, LIVIN ON A PRAYER!”‘

So what? So the recording sounded bad? What’s the big deal? It wasn’t FOR anyone else. I most definitely didn’t post it to the public. It doesn’t change the fact that I enjoy singing.

My daughter, as wonderful as she is, didn’t inherit a natural gift of music like I thought she would, having two fairly musical parents. We taught her how to clap on beat (which she’s got now) and get her to keep climbing up to the note when she’s not quite hitting it. But she loves to sing. And she’s so honest and sincere when she does. It’s the sweetest thing to watch and hear.

My toddler has picked up on music. He finishes the lines to “Wheels on the Bus” and “Jesus Loves Me.” He dances when it feels right. He claps along. He sings to himself when no one’s bothering him, completely incoherent words. It’s the sweetest thing to watch and hear.

Surely God looks at us the same way and appreciates sincere hearts. Time after time He acknowledges people with an honest and clear conscience, e.g. the giving widow, the Centurian; and in some cases punished those who did not, i.e. Ananias and Sapphira. More often than not, quality isn’t the top priority. In parables like the Good Samaritan, He purposefully takes the unexpected, to prove that He’s more concerned with the heart of the matter.

It’s the same reason why you will sit through your child’s elementary school concert, with a dumb smile slapped on your face, trying to get a clear shot with a camera, but never in a million years would you want to go to a different, random school to watch their concert. If you see your kid get a base hit in little league, you will lose your ever-lovin’ mind, and scream and cheer – a bigger reaction than any other game you watch this year. Why? Because it’s your child. Their success, happiness, or achievement means more than any of your own. Their acts of kindness or selflessness gives you a sense pride you wouldn’t feel about yourself or anyone else.

God loves us the same. And when we sing, the quality is secondary to the heart. I believe the heart will cause us to want to improve the quality as well; they’re not mutually exclusive. When we give a drink of water to someone thirsty, your Father is in the audience with a camera. When we swallow spiteful remark and choose to be gracious, your Dad is in the stands with a smile and a puffed up chest. When we love others they way God has loved us, He says “well done, good and faithful servant.”

Be less concerned about the tone of your voice, or if someone is watching or listening or judging. Sing anyway.

Life Lessons, Motivation

Election Day Mad Libs

By this [DATETIME], you know that [NAME] has been announced as the next President of the United States. Of course, not everyone is happy about this as some of you wanted [NAME] to be President. Most of us, it seems, weren’t crazy about [NAME] or [NAME], and might have voted for [NAME] just to keep a clear conscience. But alas, we’re stuck with [NAME] for the next 4 years and might as well get used to it.

My wife and I were discussing this a few days ago and how there doesn’t seem to be an ideal situation either way. She said, “If we get [NAME], we’ll have [ISSUE] to deal with. But even with [NAME], there’s still [ISSUE] and [ISSUE].” I replied, “I know! That’s not even mentioning the [ISSUE] that’s gotta be dealt with.”

The conversation became serious and meandered into worst case scenarios for either [NAME] or [NAME]. But since we had just talked about [ISSUE], I said that she shouldn’t worry too much, because it seems that [ISSUE] will mostly do its own thing regardless of the President. Sure [POLICY] might change things a bit, but overall we’re going to go on with life. With either [NAME] or [NAME], it’s still 300 million of us to one President. It’s just people don’t realize the power we have to make changes for the better. People don’t realize that we’ve been the ones keeping [ISSUE] on track and [ISSUE] from getting out of hand.

We had just finished watching a show with a scene about [ISSUE]. And she exclaimed, “What if nothing gets better with [NAME] as President?” And I said, “Well, there’s no guarantee that things won’t be worse with [NAME] either.” She snapped back “So, what do we do?!”

“WE do what’s right. WE be better tomorrow. We smile at the lady behind the counter. We say ‘Hi’ to strangers or visitors at church. You and I have never relied on the government to dictate how we act. The problems on a national level have little to nothing to do with us.

“We know where we fit in this world and how we can make an impact. You’re helping [ISSUE] and I’m involved with [ISSUE]. And soon enough, we’ll get back into foster care.” Which then went into a totally different topic about how and when we get back into foster care now that the baby is becoming a toddler. But at least we weren’t talking about [NAME] and [NAME] anymore.

I’m sure many have had a moment of paranoia thinking about the possibility of an apocalypse with [NAME] as President. But think about the past four years and how often you cared who was President when someone personally helped you. And how many missed opportunities did you have to be better, and would [NAME] have made that happen? Probably not.

Vote when you should vote. Speak when you should speak. Stand up when it’s time to stand up. Even if you think you’re the only one or that it won’t matter. But maybe it encourages one more to stand with you. And maybe that one becomes 3, or 30, or 300, or 3000. And then when 300 million are standing at the same time, that’s more than [NAME] will ever be able to accomplish as President.

But even if our country never gets to that kind of unity, standing up for one person is still more than [NAME] will ever do for them. [NAME] won’t matter to them; you will. And you had that kind of power all along.

Life Lessons

Things I Miss and Don’t Miss When the Power Goes Out

The power is out. It’s pretty bad. I knew something happened while standing in my backyard. I heard a sound and looked up to see the power lines undulating between the poles. I figured a limb fell at my neighbor’s house. No. A tree fell two blocks away. Completely taking down the power lines, snapping a pole in half, and crashing all elements into the pavement. So yeah, the power is out, and probably will be for a while. We live on a dead end, so literally, there’s no way out of here. We’re stuck.

We took a walk to see the damage and met some neighbors for the first time after living here for a year. But the mosquitos are hungry outside, and it’s humid. I don’t like trying to read by candlelight. There’s no internet, obviously, so all I could think to do is open a Word doc and type. It’s making me think that if this lasted for a long time, what would I miss the most?

  • Convenience

I know in my head, that the electricity’s out. I know that it takes electricity to power a light bulb and illuminate the room. But my hands are not aware of this circumstance, and continue to turn the light switch on every time I cross a doorway.

I could totally manage living in the 1800’s. My wife, on the other hand, has said “I would never make it on the Oregon Trail. We’d come to the first river to cross and that’s where I would live. Actually, I would just never leave where I was.”

So, it’s not that I can’t or wouldn’t. But man, I love that things are there when you want it. All of these things that Settlers would think are magic. Lights, on! Microwave, cook! TV, Weather forecast! OK Google, what happened to the actor from “The Sand Lot?”

  • Air Conditioning

I can’t sleep when it’s hot. I’ve been camping in summer, stayed in hotels with poor AC, in other people’s houses with unreasonable temperature preferences (like 73). My sixth sense is instinctively knowing that someone adjusted the thermostat up one degree. It’ll be 1am and I’m peeling sheets off me like wet Saran wrap. I can’t sleep hot. My wife can’t be cold. Not even just during sleep time, like ever. The Fall season initiates her hibernating feature, and if you disturb the shutting down process, it gets ugly. She can’t be cold.

We’ve managed to find the sweet spot in the Venn diagram of household temperature. And I recognize the fact that I take for granted how luxurious it is to set that degree, or even tweak that degree to what suits me in the moment. Tonight may be a long night.

  • Refrigerator

I realized, if I think hard enough, I have a photographic memory of the inside of my refrigerator. Like a ninja, I can open the correct door, and at just the right angle snag the string cheese out of the drawer and shut it before any cool air is lost. You’d have to replay the security camera on slow motion to be able to tell that something even happened. (This is totally what ninjas do in their spare time at home).

It’s not that I’m going hungry at this moment, or even for the rest of the night, but it’s a fear of not having food in the future. This was always a fear of mine when our college choral group would travel and stay in people’s houses. I just knew I was going to go hungry. Once a family graciously ordered pizzas, with everything, and I just can’t handle onions and green peppers on a pizza. But I did my best to survive. Then there was the trailer in nowhere Illinois. The one where he said, “don’t use that shower, that’s where the cat litter is.” The one with the living room lined with various empty beer cans as decoration. The same one where it smelled like dog all night, only to find out the next morning that I slept in the dog’s bed. But the owner may not have known that because he sleeps outside in a tent. I did not eat much that night.

I love food. And I love knowing that there will be food.

  • White noise

If you pay attention, everything that plugs in makes a noise of some kind. Your laptop has a fan, the radio buzzes, light bulbs hum, the AC, Dishwasher, Washer/Dryer, fridge, TV, radio. But when the power’s out, the sound of silence is deafening. Right now I’m driving my wife crazy with every keystroke; a sound that wouldn’t even be noticeable with the TV on. Every time she exhales, I wonder if it’s an annoyed sigh at something I’m doing. I hear every airplane in radius. Crickets and frogs are singing. It sounds like the neighbors are talking on our front porch. There’s a fly in the room. It’s maddening. We’re surely going to kill each other by the end of the night.

Years ago I removed the battery from a clock Grandma gave us because the tick-tock would keep me up at night, singing “Yankee doodle went to town…” along with the second-hand beat. I could enjoy a peaceful night in the desolate parts of the Western plains, but without something to muffle the sounds inside, I’ll go crazy.

This fly must die.

What I don’t miss.

  • The Internet

Surprisingly, I don’t miss the web-o-sphere. I would otherwise probably be on it this whole time. But for whatever reason, I don’t miss it when I can’t have it.

Seriously, this fly has got to go…..

OK. Got him. Carry on.

Scrolling Facebook, scanning what’s trending on Twitter, looking at headlines and assuming what the article says just so I’m caught up on the news. It’s all just a way to pass the time or stimulate my laziness. It’s not stimulating my boredom because there’s plenty to do. I’m just too lazy to do it, and the Internet encourages my poor behavior.

  • TV

We don’t really watch TV anyway. We’ve never had cable. Currently, we have a digital antenna and a Netflix subscription. And sometimes I wonder if Netflix is worth it (but we’re in the middle of 30 Rock Season 3). The kids don’t watch it that much. There’s not really anything we can watch as a family anyway. After the kids go to bed, we have it on more as background noise while we scroll the Internet.

  • Obligations

It’s only temporary, but when the power’s out, there are a dozen things that you cannot do. Doing the laundry is completely out of your control. There will be no dishwasher, vacuum, work email, or anything that requires more than a candle or flashlight. All of it is beyond my control. And rather than it being a stress weighing on my mind, it’s quite the opposite. I’m at peace, feeling like I have a brand new (limited) slate of options. In the end, I’d probably rather read, type, think, or relax anyway.

Thanks: fallen tree. Your sacrifice has given me time to reflect. You gave me time to blog after four months of being “too busy.”

I’m thankful for electricity. And in some ways, I’m thankful for when it goes out.

 

Life Lessons, Marriage

Taylor, for your wedding

Taylor,

The highest honor I have ever been afforded was to baptize you when you gave your life to Christ. One of my greatest privileges will be to see you give your hand in marriage. I am thrilled for you. You have had a special place in my heart all these years. You’re constantly on my mind and in my prayers. So it’s a huge comfort to know you have found the perfect man for you.

Marriage advice is not hard to find. But the greatest way to learn is through experience: failures and victories, stumbles and success. Rarely are words worth more than the paper they’re written on, but maybe it won’t hurt for me to try anyway. Distance has kept us from having regular conversations, otherwise, most of this would’ve already been spoken. Still, I’d like to give my perspective of marriage, as much as 14 years experience has given me, and hopefully, it inspires your relationship.

The major benefit/blessing to marriage is companionship. It may even be the entire purpose God intended. To know someone will be home when I get there; to have someone to drive to the store with, sit next to at church, to walk beside, to watch TV beside, to watch the sunset beside, to sit together comfortably in silence, to have so much to say to each other there’s not enough time in the day for it. It’s like having money in the bank at all times. In the worst of circumstances, I know in the back of my mind that I have her.

There’s no secret to making a marriage last; you just do it. The fact you dated means you like each other; step one. Now what? Commitment. Both sides. If both are truly committed, there’s nothing short of dying that could tear you away. I remember before we were even engaged, Heather pretty much threatened me with an “end it now or never” agreement. I happily obliged to stay. I don’t remember our wedding vows verbatim, but I know them in summary: I’m committed to her forever. And I have a ring I never take off that’s a reminder to me and symbol to everyone else of that promise.

Sure promises can be broken. Too many marriages have failed. You have to be intentionally and perpetually committed. Every morning, every night, after every fight, and every blissful moment. We saw too many couples split up; surprisingly many were friends of ours in the first few years after we were married. After every instance, Heather grabs my hand and sincerely asks, “are we good?” Sometimes I mess with her and say “depends on what’s for dinner.” (not advisable). Most of the time I know she’s serious then reassure her “we’re good.”

Learn how to fight. Disagreements will happen. You put two people together for that amount of time, someone’s going to disagree with the temperature of the room or how to handle money. So when it happens, it’s best to know how to deal with it. Understand how the other one handles an argument. It’s possible one wants to talk it out and the other needs to cool off first. Some say more than they mean, some say nothing and keep it inside. Don’t manipulate. Ask for advice if needed, but don’t speak ill of each other (even jokingly). Compromise. Be open and honest: don’t say things you don’t mean, do say the things you should.

Laugh. Laugh. Laugh. It keeps you going. Actually, it seems to center you back to where you belong. It reminds you of the dating days. Life will get mundane at times and laughing is the spark that recalls all the reasons you’re in this relationship. It makes you sigh with relief. In marriage, it’s a smile not just at the moment, but for the life you’re living.

Need each other. It’s not a sign of weakness to admit you need, but a humble awareness that together you’re stronger, better. Both of you have strengths and weaknesses that fit together like a jigsaw puzzle; two pieces that don’t fit or belong anywhere else. And if you have children in the future, may they be an extension of the strong relationship you’ve already created.

Build each other up. Enjoy life together. Be on the same page. Don’t expect too much. Have each other’s interests in mind. Surprise. Delight. Enjoy. Never take it for granted. Put God first. Love down to your core. Love to the point words can’t describe it.

Enjoy your wedding day and every day after. Marriage is the best. May yours feel like a dream come true, and every day you pinch yourself knowing yours is the kind to thrive for a lifetime.

Life Lessons

Dichotomy Around The Cross

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way.

I’ve never read A Tale of Two Cities, but I like to quote it as if I had. But this quote surfaced in my mind when I considered the perspective of people who were there the week of the trial and execution of Jesus. Those who were close to him or even the curious followers must have been confused, scared. This was not what they had in mind. He was supposed to be the King of the Jews to bring their nation back to its rightful place, but here he is being dragged away by guards.  It was the best of times, it was suddenly the worst of times.

He taught us so much, did all of that mean nothing?  It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness.

There was the Perfect one, treated as a criminal?  It was the spring of hope, it was suddenly the winter of despair.

The more I analyze all the aspects of that week, there’s chaos, dichotomy, so many contradicting events, back-and-forth, and contrasting scenes.

 

  • It was the most depressing of scenes, but hopeful if you knew the purpose
  • They Feared who Jesus was, contrasted with his bravery and steadiness
  • You had Judas betray and Peter deny, but John and Mary never left His side
  • There’s filthiness of our sin, the cleansing power of His blood
  • The stubbornness of the crowds and the forgiveness given to them
  • It was an Ugly scene, and beautiful
  • They thought they defeated Him, but he triumphed over sin
  • They took his life, He gave His life
  • Crowds were angry, Jesus was at peace
  • They were full of hate, Jesus is love
  • While he was hurting, he was healing us
  • A crown… of thorns
  • A Robe… to mock him
  • Buried then risen
  • The accusation was he claimed to be God, and that’s exactly who He is
  • It was seemingly the End, but really just the beginning

The good news for us is that we don’t have to be confused or scared, we’re not in the days before the cross, we’re in the days after He rose. We have the full picture of what He did and why. There is no more dichotomy. There is no conflict. It was exactly as it needed to be. And in comparing the actions of Jesus to all the actions and situations around him, it only makes his glory shine that much brighter. Death has become life. Night has become day. Lost has become found. 

Life Lessons

The Paper Cut of Homelessness

As I write this I’m currently serving as an ‘innkeeper’ at our church’s Room In The Inn. It’s a city-wide program that gives shelter to homeless people at a network of churches through the winter months. They transport groups to that day’s locations, feed them, provide showers, supplies, laundry, cots, and, of course, a roof. Please do not think I’m giving myself a halo here, I pretty much signed up out of moral obligation, while wondering about how uncomfortable it would be.

And of course, reality hit me in a couple ways. First, I happened to notice my various thoughts and tasks on my way over here today:

It’s unseasonably warm, I’m almost sweating on my commute home
Need to remember to charge my phone ahead of time
Better grab my laptop to stay busy while everyone’s sleeping
I think I’m lightheaded from sitting at my desk too long today
Should get a snack to take with me
Should eat something before, who knows when we serve food
I’ll dress down so I don’t stick out
Do I take this pillow or that one?
This blanket or that one?
Maybe I’ll hit the local coffee shop in the morning

And then I realized, none of these guys would’ve had any of those thoughts.

Now, I know better than to look down on people. People are just people (for the most part). Same with these men. Some down on their luck, some struggling with their past, some just don’t have a support system. So I view my role as treating others as you would have them treat you. I don’t look at them with pity; I don’t see myself as high and mighty. They need a shower and a meal. I can be one of 15 volunteers to help with that.

The vans pull up and the men walk in like they’ve done this all winter. They know the drill better than I understand the written instructions. As it unfolds I’m just people-watching and trying to be available. They already know what they want to accomplish first. Some need a shower, some need clothes, some want to pick the prime sleeping spots. When dinner’s served they’re patient in line, and pause just a second to see if one of the plates has a slightly larger portion (I would too).

I must have done well with dressing down because I was mistaken as a guest instead of a volunteer. Three times by church members who didn’t recognize me, and at least once when a guest said, “you one of them or one of us,” before asking his question.

I took the opportunity to sit and eat with a few of the 24 men. They were in the middle of a political conversation and I knew my preconceived expectations were about to be flipped when the first comment I heard was “The responsibility is on the viewer to know whether the program they’re watching is news or opinion.” I nodded my head in agreement and perked up my ears.

They discussed the political race, “Rubio will drop out if he doesn’t win FL.”

They debated economics, “There were 270,000 jobs added last month; if you can’t find a job, that’s on you!”

They argued over war and gas prices, “OPEC controls the price of oil, it has nothing to do with the President.”

Race even came up: “Now I’m from California, I don’t see color.” “Of course you see color. And if you see me purple, you better be calling 911!”

I only wish I were able to transcribe the whole conversation between these four. One guy loved getting things riled up, the other almost couldn’t handle it and his friend quietly calmed him down, “you’re letting him get to you, you know better.”

Just delightful. I mostly nodded and chuckled. I failed at attempting to change the heated topic to sports with a “How ’bout them Titans!” They laughed but no one took the bait.

The rest of the night has been quiet. There are no less than five unique snores right now. I’m feeling a little uneasy. I know their lives have to be worse than they’re letting on, but maybe not. One said while defending the President, “Unemployment’s at 4.6%. You don’t see people starving on the streets. I mean, we’re in here, but somebody got money for this.” I know that I don’t have the ability to magically fix everything for them, whether or not I should even if I could. Because the point we’ve been tasked with isn’t ultimately to make sure everyone’s situation is pain-free. Pain is going to happen regardless of your financial state. My reaction to someone’s pain is the nucleus.

I heard a story (from radio’s “The Wally Show” I think), where they returned to a regular mission trip and told one of the locals “we’ve been praying for you.” To which the 3rd-world-country man replied “no, we pray for God to be with you. You have nothing but distractions and problems in America. Here… all we have is God.” It’s all about perspective. I thought about this recently when I heard a statistic about how few were afflicted with a certain illness. But if you’re the one with the illness, it’s a big stinkin’ deal to you! Doesn’t matter if it touches .01% of people. Your problem, no matter what it is, is still a problem.

Homelessness stinks. It’s as frustrating as hunger, which is as agonizing as depression, which is as sad as loneliness, which is as isolated as the death of a loved one, which is as debilitating as finding cancer, which is as empty as losing as a job, which to some threatens homelessness.

Paper cuts are the worst. Especially the bad ones. How can something so small hurt so bad? It controls your thoughts, can nearly immobilize you till the pain subsides, will annoy you till the skin fuses back together. I get shivers thinking about it. But no one would say that a papercut is worse than living in a shelter. “Would you rather have a paper cut or be alone and not know where you’re going to sleep and how you’re going to eat tonight?” Hand me the paper. But I know that tonight if I suddenly got a bad cut, these guys would stop and be concerned for me. They’re still just people. Good and bad like the rest of us. Willing and capable of giving and receiving friendship.

In one way or another, we’re all struggling with something. We’re tasked to love and show kindness. A roof or a bandaid means the world to the person who needs it.

The fruit of the Spirit (the outcome, the result, the action) is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. 

Life Lessons

Andy Stanley and the Unforgiving Tweeters

Some Twitter Christians are handling this Andy Stanley apology very poorly, but it shows our typical unwillingness to truly forgive.

If you’re unfamiliar with the situation, Andy Stanley is a preacher who, in his weekly sermon video, appears to have gotten a little worked up about the topic, and made a jab at parents who take their children/teens to smaller churches. He calls them selfish for wanting to go a small church “where I know everybody,” instead of a larger place where they have enough teens for separate middle and high school groups.

His local church, North Point, has a huge network of congregations, and is one the largest, if not the largest, depending on how you count. Mega-churches are commonly the target for criticism, typically in an ignorant and stereotypical way about the faceless, vague idea of a “mega-church.” So, I’m sure he’s in the position of defending North Point’s size, methodology, and decisions quite often.

That’s not necessarily an excuse, but a possible perspective of where his head might have been. And the point of this sermon was to defend the practice of church, why God designed it, and why it’s beneficial. So someone hears that comment, starts posting for all to see, then in our typical 140-character attention span, we hear only what the headlines read: “Andy Stanley says you’re selfish for going to a small church.”

WHAT?! You’ve got to kidding me? I go to a small church. Well not really, but I maybe once did or know someone who does and just the fact that someone would say that really offends me! Or the fact that someone might be offended offends me.

Even though there may be an element of truth to what he said, the way it came across, especially in the sound bite format that most people will see, does sound harsh. It sounds judge-y. I could retort by listing a dozen positive or necessary reasons for going to a small church. Regardless, he obviously went too far.

He admitted it went too far.

So he apologized.

End of story. Goodnight, folks. See ya next time.

Well, no. Not if you’re still bitter from what he said. Responses are all over the map. Some thank him for his humility. Some remain angry at his arrogance. A few are taking their overall opinion of him and this just adds fuel to their fire. Many demand that he do something more, like take the video down, apologize in a lengthy explanation, go to a small church to apologize in person. But is that forgiveness?

I forgive you, but…

To use the obvious example from Jesus, “How many times should we forgive, 7 times?” “No, 70 times 7.”

…unless you don’t think they’re really sorry.

…unless you’re still angry

…unless you haven’t had a chance to speak your mind

I gave up on internet-arguing years ago. Back in my more politically vocal years, I remember going at it a few times with people polar-opposite of my opinion. And I’m happy to say that I won them over and they’re a completely different person now!

You feel the weight of heavy sarcasm, I hope. Nothing changed. Rarely, very rarely do you find healthy conversations from differing sides online. People seem to lose their decency filter when behind the security blanket of a computer. Hardly anything you see in a comment section would actually be said in a face-to-face conversation. Or at the very least if you shared an opinion, you would pause and make an attempt at being polite.

We can’t get out of our own way. He said some wonderfully, amazing things through the full sermon. Things that many people really need to hear. Especially right before this debatable line. But we naval-gazers aren’t interested in what’s best, we like the drama, we have something to say, or our feelings are hurt.

The worst part is that dude actually apologized! Someone was actually humble enough to admit that he was wrong. No sugar-coating, either. And that’s not good enough for us?

I hope the comments are nothing more than internet trolls. Our response should be different (if a response is even necessary in this case). If we were to use the Forgive 70 x 7 formula, or the Golden Rule, or love others as you love yourself, any of those would change our reaction. Personally, if I said something wrong, then apologized, I would want everyone to about forget it. But I wouldn’t expect them to. I expect to be punished and belittled because that’s just how people are sometimes. So imagine the impact a positive, forgiving response would create. In real life, imagine the bond and friendship that could be formed by truly putting another’s interests ahead of your own. Forget yourself, do the unnatural thing, and truly forgive an apology.

Ironically, the Discussion Guide the church provided for this lesson included this statement: We build churches because the church encourages us to embrace a mandate that could change everything: love your neighbor as yourself.

Motivation

Karma and the Law of Reciprocity

Karma, as we generally understand it, does not exist. How many times does it take to learn that it’s not going to happen? We’re tantrum-throwing children, stomping our feet screaming, “BUT?! I did good! Why is this happening to me?!”

It appears the stomach bug is making the rounds in our house. The baby had it on Sunday (all overnight of course), then my daughter on Thursday. Hers was actually overnight as well, but chose to go to the bathroom on her own, record the time, 1:30am & 4:15am, and let us know in the morning (have we raised the perfect kid?) Then my wife on Saturday.

I guess that leaves me….(dun dun duuuun!!)

Friday was a lovely day and she took the kids for a walk on the greenway, patting herself on the back for getting everyone some exercise and fresh air. Then the next day, barely able to sit up without getting dizzy, she jokes that this shouldn’t be happening cause she was trying to be healthy. And I totally get it. Instinctively you anticipate a reward for doing well. I suppose this is how we were raised: punished for poor choices, rewarded for good ones.

A couple weeks ago I had a similar reaction. School’s were still cancelled for snow. I made it into work early, got some stuff done, went to take my Big Brothers Big Sisters “Little” to lunch, ran into a guy I hadn’t seen in a while who was going through a tough situation and I hope I spoke some words of encouragement to him. On my way back, a car appeared to have broken down right in front of me and the guy was trying to push it across traffic into a gas station. I put my flashers on and helped him push it across. (You haven’t truly exercised till you have pushed a car).

This is where I beam with pride in my day’s accomplishments and wait for it to start raining money and candy from the sky.

I’m waiting…

Any moment now, I’ll get a surprise bonus.

Maybe they’ll call about that contest I entered.

I’ll settle for no traffic on the way home.

Still waiting…

Sadly, the rest of the night was pretty standard. Guess it could have been worse, like some kind of anti-Karma!

A couple years ago I had worked overtime a couple nights for a big project and had just wrapped up on a Saturday. I left to go unwind with friends at a restaurant. While taking the exit on a freshly drizzled off-ramp, I lost traction and flipped my truck. Um, dear Karma, you got it backwards. I worked hard and you forgot to reward me.

I do believe in natural consequences. Unfortunately, it seems negative consequences are more common than positive rewards.

Something inside us thinks that the world somehow owes us for doing a good deed. It’s only fair that I should be treated as well as I have done.

The Law of Reciprocity “basically says that when someone does something nice for you, you will have a deep-rooted psychological urge to do something nice in return.” Maybe “Law” is too strong of a word. If it were a Law, I suppose when I helped the guy push his car over I could’ve waited around for a little tip in return. But maybe it inspired him to do something nice later on that day. Maybe.

I typically feel great when someone does something nice for me. But not always. A compliment could make me feel awkward and shy. Someone paying for my meal could leave me feeling cheap or lower on the totem pole. I remember on a chorus trip, our director stopped the bus to ask a guy on the side of the road for directions. He insisted on showing his appreciation with a little cash, the guy tried to refuse and quite frankly appeared insulted by the offer.

So the cosmos doesn’t automatically reward us for positive actions. And people won’t necessarily return our good deed with one of equal or greater value. So why keep fighting the good fight?

You may still get a reward, just in a different form. Contentment. Satisfaction. A clear conscience.

This is how the golden rule got its gold.

Not: Do to others so that they will do the same to you

Not: Do to others as they have done to you

Do to others… whether or not they do, even if they don’t, even if they don’t deserve it, as if what they do doesn’t even matter… Do to others as you would have them do to you.

Whether you are rewarded is not the point. Whether you have been treated well thus far is not the point. Your goal is to be kind, be generous, be loving, regardless. This is true selflessness. It is not about you, it’s about how you are to others.

 

Dad Revelations

Dad Revelations: Stepping In

How many times have you done something stupid and would have been OK if God had just stepped in and stopped you from doing it?

The other night my daughter wanted to tackle homework all on her own. She didn’t even want us to know that she was going to do it. She told me to just let her “take some notes,” as in “leave me alone so I can get my homework done.” I caught on pretty quickly. But knowing my daughter and her inability to stay on task, a trait she lovingly got passed down from her father, I figured it was only a matter of time before I needed to step in. Bedtime was quickly approaching, but I wanted to give her space.

At the same time, our 8-month old baby is pulling up on everything. He’s just getting started, so obviously this is not a graceful act. The trouble usually happens when he gets slightly distracted, or so focused on one object that he misses his mark and bumps his mouth. From his level, the dining room chairs and coffee table are like a jungle gym. The only problem is that he’s still a Bobblehead. One curious turn of the head and we have a busted noggin’ against the chair leg.

With the baby, I step in and protect him at every possible moment. Of course, I do. He’s helpless. He doesn’t know better. And then, obviously, as he grows up I will begin treating him as I do his older sister. Loosening the reins as time passes. I step in when I need to, but at the same time continue to give her space to learn and grow. Especially when she’s demanding it…

This particular event with my daughter was over math homework. Her task was to subtract minutes across the hour break using a clock dial. What’s 30 minutes before 1:10pm? Now, I could point to the answer in a second, and explain the ‘why’ in a minute. But she’s reading, and thinking, and trying to find a relevant video, and getting a drink of water, and using the bathroom, “Um..Babygirl? I thought you were doing your homew… taking some notes?” Sure enough, it became late enough that I had to step in, and after a minute of pouting then redirecting, we finally got it finished.

Someday, she may be where I find myself, sitting at work and trying to stay focused, wishing she had someone reminding her to stay on task. Someday she’s going to get unreasonably angry in traffic, wishing she had someone to calm her down. Someday she may wonder why God isn’t stepping in to stop her from doing something stupid.

I honestly don’t know how much God steps in our lives. It might be more than I realize. Less than I’d like it to be? I’m not sure how all that works. But I can see the benefit in consequences. Ohhhhhhhhh I hate to say that. But isn’t it true? There are some life lessons you can only learn by experiencing them. My poor baby boy will soon stop pounding his head when he sits up underneath the piano bench. My daughter may, possibly, hopefully, someday realize that it’s better to go ahead and finish her meal even if it’s not her favorite. Someday I might realize that it’s not worth it to hit the snooze over and over again.

I try to be an example. I try to give her reminders. I tell her stories and take advantage of life lessons that are happening right in front of us. I will be there for her when she needs me.

God gave us Jesus as an example. There’s a collection of stories, accounts, and letters in the form of the Bible to be a reminder. We have the church to share life with and learn from each other. God is always there when I need Him (rather, He’s there whether I think I need Him or not).

My wife gave me a print of this cartoon for Christmas, from a cartoonist she knew in high school. Sums up this whole thought pretty well:

Make Good Choice - Wes Molebash

Yep, I think I finally understand how God feels about us.

Marriage

A Rose A Day

February was approaching and I knew that I had two dates that I shouldn’t screw up. First was our dating anniversary. Two. Whole. Months. Yes, when dating, you celebrate benchmarks the same way you give a baby’s age: by months. “My baby’s 20-months-old.” No, he’s not. People just don’t math like that. You can choose between a “year-and-a-half” or “almost-two.” Ok? After a year, month-counting should fade away. Anyway, our dating anniversary was the 4th. It was only two months, so there’s the decision of how big this celebration should be. Just dinner? An actual gift? Like, a card? Fake jewelry? (cause this broke college kid ain’t buying much over $20).

Then BAM! It hit me. “I’ll get her flowers, but we also have Valentine’s Day coming up. Do I buy them twice?” This is where goofy, undateable Jared turned into the charming romantic we all know and love today. I bought a dozen flowers and kept them in my dorm. The morning of the 4th, I surprised her with a rose. “Aw, you remembered our dating anniversary!” Yes. Yes, I did. Then on the morning of the 5th, I gave her another rose. “What? Why? You just gave me one!” I know, oh yes, I know. Then at various times of day and different places I would give her another of the dozen each day all the way up to Valentine’s. And I’ve done the same thing. From the 4th to the 14th. Every year. For 16 years.

*drops mic, walks off stage*

Genius #1: Cost savings (let’s be honest). It’s just one bunch of flowers. No vase or arrangement needed.

Genius #2: Taking what would’ve been a single happy moment of delivering flowers, and making it exponentially better. Not only just 11 times more because it’s one a day, but even more so because it’s unique.

Genius #3: It doesn’t matter that I’m doing the same thing every year. Many times she forgets about it and creates a delightful surprise. Plus it gives me something easy to remember to do every year.

Genius #4: It’s totally fun. I love the creative aspect. When am I going to sneak it to her today? One day this year I left it in the snow on her windshield. Another day I dropped it off at her work before she arrived. (Trying to think how to attach a rose to the baby without him eating it).

A slight downside is now that I’ve done it for so long, I have to always do it, and it’s difficult to always remember. I was late by a day or two a couple years ago. Sometimes I’ve chosen a less-than-optimal time to give one. Like this year, I picked an unwise time of day. I gave her the first one when the baby woke up crying in the middle of the night. Quote “HUH!? uhg.. jared… *sigh* you’re ridiculous.” Once I snuck a rose over the shower curtain. Side note: my wife does not like being scared. I repeat, does not.

And just today she was at home alone when the delivery truck for the dishwasher came. They had to turn off the main water valve, which is where I keep my stash of flowers. Busted.

I haven’t always been the best at doing something special on Valentine’s night either. There’s a whole lot of pressure here. You’ve heard it said that Valentine’s was created just as a marketing scheme to get guys to buy stuff. I haven’t ruled that idea out. But for many years, I had a second job that forced me to work on the 14th. Having kids just makes it that much more difficult. Mostly because you don’t want to ask someone “Hey, you’re not doing anything for Valentine’s. Wanna babysit?”

We’ve managed to make the best out of it. Alternate days, lunch not dinner, some creative desserts, and dusting off the china.

So if I had any tips for guys:

This not-always-perfect Valentine’s works for us because we’re doing well as a couple the other 364 days of the year. (Well, maybe like 352 days). One superficial holiday is not going to mend underlying problems.

Do your thing. Don’t do my idea or anyone else’s. You have a unique relationship and it calls for something more than simply taking her to a restaurant.

But also, make sure you still do Valentine’s. Don’t brush it off. You can’t skip it. Even if she tells you to and she’s not “that kind of girl.” You have to do Valentine’s. Really. You have to. I’m not kidding.