Quenched Thirsts and Forgiven Daddies

My Dear Poppy-Girl,

I barked at you Sunday night because you told me you were thirsty. It was late and I had already come back into the room on several occasions to get you and your little sister to stop giggling and go to sleep. You had school the next day. But as soon as I uttered my harsh, loud “No”, I knew I was in the wrong before I could even finish blurting out that short two letter word. It’s not that I can’t tell you “no” because I’m your father. But all day long I’d been thinking about myself, "engaged" with you and the family but not really. My response was not one of loving discipline, but anger and frustration just because I didn’t want to be interrupted any longer.

And that request for water? I realize now that you really were thirsty even though you might also have possessed a slight tinge of manipulation behind your tone. When you cowered away from me with a broken heart I knew that God was pricking my conscience with a sense of shame. After walking to the bathroom with my head held low, I returned with a Dixie cup of water (in spite of my "no"). Then I knelt down while you hid under the covers because you didn’t want me to see the tears on your cheeks. As you peeked out from under those sheets I put my eyes in front of yours and said, “Daddy was wrong to yell at you like that, Poppy. I was being selfish. Even daddies and mommies get selfish. But I love you, Sweetie. O. K.? Will you forgive me?” You put your soft little arms around my neck, and slowly and softly said, “I love you too, Daddy. It’s O. K. I forgive you. Willow and I are going to go to sleep now.”

Afterward I went and sedated myself with a silly T.V. movie which made me laugh, but still left me empty. I, too, then tried to go to sleep but couldn't, and it was because I was also thirsty. As much as I wanted and needed your forgiveness, my heart was parched for God's as well. So I arose and told Him what He already knew and asked Him what He wanted to hear from my own lips. Like you He quickly forgave, and then I was able to sleep.

I'm glad your thirst was quenched, and I'm glad I'm forgiven. I love you, Poppy.

And the Bride Wore Cowboy Boots

Victoria just sent me this story of a remarkable couple (click on link below):

http://www.theblazingcenter.com/2010/08/and-the-bride-wore-cowboy-boots.html

Victoria summed it up well when she wrote to our family with this link attached, "My heart feels so small sometimes." Today it feels a little larger having read and known this faith story of love.

Feeling spurred on,

Be Still and Know That I Am...

I like to sleep. Who doesn't? I don't usually have much of a problem falling to sleep. Ask Victoria. She stopped trying to talk to me while lying in bed a long time ago.

But sometimes, rarely in fact, I find myself awoken in the wee hours of the morning for no seeming reason. When I cannot fall back to sleep, I ask myself if it's God trying to get my attention. On Friday morning, at 1:30, I determined He was clearly knocking on the door from heaven. I asked Him if He'd just let me go back to sleep, but He'd have nothing of it. So, one hour later, I decided to get up and meet with Him. I donned my shorts, shirt and a sweatshirt and stumbled to the backyard through the darkness of the night. Finding a lawn chair, I sat under the almost full moon, stars and tree silhouettes. There was an irregularity of wind gusts, causing the eucalyptus trees to sway to and fro with a swishing sound that might usually seem eerie, but this time was easing. Feeling the urge to say something to God, like, "What? What is it? Do you have something you want to say to me?", I was restrained with the counter thought that maybe I don't need to say anything. And likewise, it suddenly dawned on me that He didn't have anything to say to me. He just wanted to be with me. And so it is between friends. Sometimes the best times are those when nothing is said at all. And for the first time, perhaps ever, I felt like I understood what it meant to "Be still and know that I am...".

I see little but the shadows cast from the moon's white light,
I hear nothing but the trees rustling from the wind's soft touch,
I look much deeper from the spirit that woke my solemn rest,
I wait for a word from the friend that asked me to listen tonight.

That word came in silence.

Being still,

The Sting of A Scythe

Separation stings like the swath of a scythe. Enduring a fair share, albeit light by comparison to most, has put a slight damper on our spirits. Thus the silence in our posts, lacking any creativity or the energy.

We finally lost our sweet Rosie-girl (Golden Retriever of 12 years). [I know, we posted while last in China that she was gone for good, but revived like a cat with nine-lives.] Her departure brought us much lower than we ever expected. Gentle strokes against her soft, warm snout while she closed her eyes under a strong sedative, opened the floodgates of quiet tears and a decade of memories. After the last beat of her heart, I lifted her warm, lifeless body and gingerly placed her in a shell with a comfortable blanket. We whispered to her a sweet, "Good-bye, Rosie", and then saw the last of her. That day marked the end of an era for our family, a time when all three of our first set of kids roamed about the house with the smell of a furry canine and the remnants of hair throughout. Weeks have passed, but our hearts still ache. She was a dog, but now we understand the pain others have felt knowing that she really was much more than that. God was good to let us have her so. Now hardly a day goes by when we don't say to one another, "I miss Rosie."

In contrast, we lifted our spirits by soon traveling to Colorado to vacation with Austin, Meagan and her parents (the Kirkpatrick's). Populating their household from four to ten was taken in good stride. We quickly felt at home. Our week adjacent to the Rockies, ever in view and sometimes in their midst, might rank as the highlight of our summer. But with that high came the low of another good-bye. Separating from Austin, Meagan and the Kirkpatrick's was a grief observed, again much stronger than we anticipated. Suddenly we were a family, less some. Austin was right when he said to me while standing beneath the expanse of the stars one warm evening, "All seems right and as it should be when we're all together." Yes, and all seems not so right when we're not.

Finally, I will say "good-bye" to a long-time passion for the sake of another. Elaborate I will not, but the time has come and I must move on and release. And yet again I feel the loss to a stronger degree than I ever expected. It's hard to let go.

God did not create us for separation. That's why its sting will lose its victory, at least in the end. For now He sedates with a love like none other. The numbness will one day be gone forever.

Wannabe Cool?

The content of this article is wonderful, but what's over-the-top supernatural is that it was posted in the Wall Street Journal:

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704111704575355311122648100.html?KEYWORDS=houses+of+worship

Don't want cool, but wanna be real,

Without the First, the Others Could Not Possibly Be

Tonight I'm on a business trip sleeping over in the fair Emerald City (Seattle). Victoria and I once lived here. In fact, we were married here. Which brings me to my post theme this time.

So happens that there's some kind of convention in Seattle this week, so I couldn't stay in my usual hotel when I spend the night here. It's rare that I have to be away from the home for an entire evening because I work very hard to keep most of my business excursions limited to one day. It makes for a long day, mind you, especially when I wake up at 3:30 a.m. to catch the first flight out and then catch the late afternoon flight home so I can eat dinner with my family. But it's worth it to me to be exhausted at the end of a long day, scurrying to get home, because I'd much rather be with my loved ones than more alert and relaxed in a lousy hotel room, no matter how nice it is. Since I didn't have many options, I decided to stay in the hotel where Victoria and I stayed on our first Honeymoon night together. I figured it would be nostalgic and give me an opportunity to reflect. Turns our my "figuring" was spot on as I sit here looking out through my hotel room window at what perfectly paints the City's nickname. Jewels are shining everywhere, but my most treasured jewel is not here with me tonight.

I'll never forget that day and that night some twenty-eight years ago. It was perfect in every sense. The weather (pristine during an usually dreary season), the chapel, the pastor, the family, the guests, the flowers, the music, the attire, the festivities, the food, the settings... all were perfect, absolutely perfect. But what was more perfect than all of that was Victoria. She was stunning. She quite literally took my breath away. I cried when I saw her coming down the aisle - I couldn't help myself. Her presence and class were above anything I'd ever seen in my whole life. And I couldn't wait to be with her. Our vows were so powerful, it was if they were from God Himself. I'm loving thinking about that day right now. Of course I only wish Victoria were here with me.

The outer shell of the hotel hasn't changed at all, but the interior's been remodeled. The rooms are a little more modern, but when I walked into the lobby this afternoon I immediately recognized the reception desk and remembered standing there with Victoria in her wedding apparel looking as remarkable as she ever could. People stared and wished us such wonderful blessings. We went to the room, changed clothes and went out to dinner that night. In fact, it was on top of the very hotel I'm staying in tonight. We talked that evening about every detail of our day. We both admitted that our cheeks were tired from smiling so much - those muscles had never been wound so tightly.

We could never have dreamed or crafted the life we lived to this point following what could never be repeated. God, our God, knew all along, and continues to unfold day after day after day a wedding that gets played out each day the new sun rises. Not all are as dreamy as that first, but without the first the others could not possibly be. I'm intro and retro-spective tonight, especially without Victoria, but I'm glad God brought me to this place, at least this one more time. I should sleep well tonight.

I'm missing you, Vicki Anne,

Holding On & Letting Go

I'll never forget the first time I learned how to ride a bicycle. Staring at that contraption frightened me. It was bigger than life, bright red, and the wheels seemed like they stood as tall as me. It was for sure over-sized for my body, but I was determined with the help of my Dad to learn how to ride that bike. Being highly maturated in the frontal lobe area of my brain very early in life (another way of saying that I was a scared-i-cat, which I was often called by others and for good reason), I was afraid to ride that bike. Deep down I knew I would fall and skin my knees, break a leg or have some other "devastating" life catastrophe impinge upon my body. But there was also a part of me, a part inside of most everyone I suppose, that wanted to prove that I could overcome my anxiety and do what every other boy and girl could do and enjoy. The disconcerting thing was that most of them were much younger than me and they made it look like it was "just like riding a bike". With my tip toes barely touching the hot black top that warm summer dusk, my Dad gave me a push while I lifted my feet to the pedals. He held onto the seat from behind so I wouldn't fall, and then told me to push hard on those shin-biting protrusions. Wobbling to and fro, like a drunken sailor on wheels, I criss-crossed the street, stopping suddenly by putting my feet back on safe and solid ground. During one of those tries, when he eventually let go (every Dad has to as some point) I remember getting the wheels stuck in a rut in the road an then what I knew was going to happen really did - I crashed and skinned my knee. The red cherry stung and I cried. My Mom watched from the front yard and wanted to come to my rescue, I'm sure, but left me to what was best. Dad knew I was panicked, so he calmed me down and told me to give it another try. We did that several times until finally I figured out that the ole balancing thing was something I could actually do after all. Quickly my fear turned to exuberance, and my pride swelled to a healthy level, something along the lines of confidence. I did it! I rode a bike, just like everyone else could, and it was fun. I went to bed that night proud as punch, and couldn't wait to do it again the next day. Before long I was riding with one hand on the handle-bars, then none, then popping wheelies, then skidding into a fishtail,... you know, really cool stuff.

I've now experienced what my Dad did on that day long ago, on several occasions actually; first with Austin on what we called "big blue" (a small Schwinn), then with Annie, and eventually with Barret. (Barret was almost killed on "big blue" several years ago when he took a turn on a blind corner and a pickup truck nailed him head on. Neither one of them knew what hit them. God spared Barret that day as he lay underneath the chassis unconscious. We now walk by that spot on the way to our neighborhood pool almost every summer day. Each time I step on that corner of the street I thank God for mercifully giving us more time with Barret.)

After teaching Barret how to ride a bike I figured those days were over, at least with my own children - maybe grandchildren someday, but most dads want to save that for themselves. I understand. However God had a different plan for me on Friday. July 23rd was the day I experienced groundhog day again and taught Piper how to ride a bike. The routine was so predictable, almost like watching a tape recording of my own greenhorn riding days and also those of teaching my other children. She wobbled, she fell, she screamed, she laughed, she... eventually figured it out and was, well... "proud as punch" (we're teaching Piper idioms like this one, although I'm quite confident they wouldn't say it quite like that in China).

Willow and Poppy still need the third wheel and have scooted around on their Red Flyer tricycles all summer. The image of their pigtailed bobs swinging here and there (Poppy's are more like short, fluffy sticks since her hair is so short) while I watch them from behind en route to swimming is indelibly etched in my mind. A sight to behold. Today, however, Victoria and I (mostly Victoria) couldn't stand it any longer and decided to get them their own bicycles with training wheels. We surprised them with their new modes of transportation, and they were like... pigs in poop (I think we'll save that idiom for Piper for another day). Before you knew it, the neighbor girls brought out their bikes and the whole culdesac was full of racing riders on their spoked rims.

Victoria and I are still learning, at our age, how to ride a bike - the bike of raising children that is. We wobble to and fro, we get caught in ruts and fall down, we get scabby knees, we get prideful and overly confident sometimes (until we crash and get humbled again), we're tired at the end of a long day of riding, we get scared to get back on the frame wondering if we'll remember how, and so on, and so on. God sometimes holds onto our seats, and sometimes He let's go, but He's never far away. He kisses our owees and makes them all better, and He tells us to get back on the bike because He's wired us to balance that thing and get from point "A" to point "B". After riding for so long we sometimes forget that it's fun, even though going up those steep hills is intimidating and exhausting. But what goes up must come down, and coasting down a long, windy road with the warm wind blowing in our faces and the beautiful scenery passing us on our left and our right refreshes our spirits and cause us to look forward to riding again tomorrow. It's just like riding a bike.

Holding On & Letting Go,

25 Years & 25 Reasons

Twenty-five (25) years ago today, Victoria and I sat in a small, cozy hospital room in Seattle, Washington and held our first bundle of joy God created through us. We coddled Austin with kid gloves. Like fish out of water we flopped and flailed pondering at every turn whether we parented "correctly" at that moment. We look back now, twenty-five (25) years later, and feel that God's been much more gracious with our mistakes than Austin over his, just by sheer number. This day we celebrate with exuberance over our son and the banner of protection He's covered us with.

And now we share twenty-five (25) reasons why we give thanks over Austin today:

1. He's our first born.
2. He's a compliant one.
3. He's tender in heart.
4. He's considerate of others.
5. He's studious in mind.
6. He's loyal in soul.
7. He's adventuresome in spirit.
8. He's contemplative in thought.
9. He's conscious of conscience.
10. He's witted in laughter.
11. He's saved by Jesus.
12. He's serious in faith.
13. He's committed in love.
14. He's free from fear.
15. He's devoted in marriage.
16. He's passionate about life.
17. He's exploring the expanse.
18. He's faithful to us.
19. He's dedicated to holiness.
20. He's excelled in education.
21. He's loved his siblings.
22. He's listened to wisdom.
23. He's studied the Bible.
24. He's prayed in belief.
25. He's lived this long.

And he'll live forever! Happy Birthday, Austin.

We couldn't love you more,

The Post That Was Never Posted

I just wrote a huge post, with a ton of thought put into it, pictures and all, and when I went to post it the "auto-save" feature failed. When I went back in to find what I wrote and re-post, it was nowhere to be found. Lost in cyberspace. I'm so frustrated.

I guess I wasn't meant to post tonight. I'm too exasperated to try to recreate it, so I'm going to pass for the evening.

"Help me, God, because I'm really ticked right now. And what ticks me off even more is that I'm ticked."

I'll try again soon.

Grace Resolutions

I pressed through yet another birthday last week while on our family vacation at Mount Hermon. There was a season when birthdays caused me to look ahead at what could be, and now I find that birthdays sometimes cause me to look back at what should have been. But because I have hope, looking back still propels me to look ahead and believe that there's always time to incinerate impurities while on the journey to complete purity. So I decided this birthday to write down some core lifestyle practices that I've strived and still want even more to be characteristic of whatever God's got left for me. The idea came from Jonathan Edwards, one of the great reformers and puritans of our faith. I have one for each year of my life, and have decided to post them here for my children and wife to remember. I hope to read them frequently myself to serve as a reminder of the target I'm steering toward. Here they are:

With the grace of God...

1. I will strive every day to not read any other book until I've read The Book.

2. I will strive every day to not eat any other food until I've eaten from The Bread of Life.

3. I will strive every night not shut my eyes with my head on the pillow until I've sought the Lord one last time.

4. I will strive to pray for every member of my family every day.

5. I will strive to read through the entire Bible at least once per year.

6. I will strive to pray and thank God every day for my job and health.

7. I will strive to transcribe the entire Bible at least once before I meet my Jesus face-to-face.

8. I will strive to pray for one country/nation of the world at least once per day.

9. I will strive to tangibly demonstrate my love for Victoria every day.

10. I will strive to never say anything unkind about another.

11. I will strive to never willingly or intentionally gaze upon anything that will fain my affection for Jesus or my wife.

12. I will strive to give my body enough rest every day to ensure my focus upon Jesus is keen.

13. I will strive to never eat anything that is knowingly unhealthy for my body.

14. I will strive to always be fully focused and never distracted while in the presence of another.

15. I will strive to resist over-indulging in substances that alter my presence of mind.

16. I will strive to give each of my children ample love and attention that none ever feel neglected or cheated.

17. I will strive to always be memorizing or reviewing memorized Scripture on a daily basis.

18. I will strive to always journal my thoughts and experiences on a regular basis so that my wife and children will have a written remembrance of God's hand upon my heart.

19. I will strive to remain committed and devoted to a local church family until I meet my Jesus face-to-face.

20. I will strive to always speak the truth, never embellishing or limiting facts to self-adorn.

21. I will strive to always give money to anyone who asks, without judgment or hesitancy.

22. I will strive to always open my home to anyone in need.

23. I will strive to always serve myself last when in the presence of others, regardless of the context or content.

24. I will strive to always honor the Word of God with a fearful prayer of Psalm 119:17-18 before opening it.

25. I will strive to diligently save enough money so that I need not burden another for help when Victoria and I are aged.

26. I will strive to faithfully exercise and buffet my body to care for the temple that God has placed me in.

27. I will strive to loosely hold the things God has entrusted to me so that should they disappear I will not become despondent.

28. I will strive to care for the things God has entrusted to me so that I never take them for granted or abuse them and thereby dishonor Him.

29. I will strive to always be aware of the supernatural so that I give God credit for the obvious and the obscure.

30. I will strive to always give thanks in all circumstances, especially those difficult providences He places in my pathway.

31. I will strive to boldly make mention of Jesus and His saving grace at every opportunity the Spirit makes me aware of.

32. I will strive to always honor my mother and father, even if and after they meet the Lord before me.

33. I will strive to never seek opportunities that place me in positions of focus, and only be public when asked to do so.

34. I will strive to always extend a word, whether written or verbal, of thanks to anyone who gives to me.

35. I will strive to always immediately seek forgiveness to anyone I knowingly injure, whether intentional or not.

36. I will strive to regularly make connections with all members of my family, especially when we're physically apart from one another.

37. I will strive to always work so that all the physical needs of my family are attended to until they're able to care for themselves.

38. I will strive to personally and individually live on only enough cash each day so that I do not indulge in more than a majority of the world's population.

39. I will strive to be and remain debt-free.

40. I will strive to have my household in order so that when the Lord takes me home I have not left a burden to others.

41. I will strive to always let my "yes" be yes and my "no" be no, never committing to things I cannot follow through on and following through on things I've committed to.

42. I will strive to always give the other the benefit of the doubt, knowing that I cannot possibly know the heart of mankind.

43. I will strive to always force myself into positions of love so that I will resist the temptation to serve myself, which I'm always naturally inclined to do.

44. I will strive to always master any habit that has greater control over me than I of it.

45. I will strive to regularly and routinely fast and pray over matters where a clearly supernatural measure of God's grace is required.

46. I will strive to honor, respect and pray for those who God has placed in authority over me and never speak ill of them, regardless of whether I agree with or prefer their standards.

47. I will strive to at least one time per year place myself in isolation that I might seek the Lord for guidance and direction for the next twelve months.

48. I will strive to regularly surround myself with music that draws my gaze upward and enlivens my spirit with zealousness.

49. I will strive to always give faithfully and financially to the church to facilitate the greater furtherance of the Kingdom of God.

50. I will strive to always honor the Sabbath as a day of worship and rest, especially when I'm asked to either work or engage in extra curricular leisure as an exchange.

51. I will strive to never complain about anything.

52. I will strive to always forgive those who have wronged me, just as Jesus has forgiven all my wrongs against Him.

Lord, have mercy upon me, a sinner.

Resolved,