I know, I know, you think the EVER is a little much. But it is just fact. The only thing that makes me excited is that there may be better ones in the future. So let's look at the list.
1. We had all the kids and grandkids here for a couple of days. No arguments, well, unless you count the thermostat argument. We discovered Christmas morning at breakfast, after the Santa had come and gifts had been exchanged, that each of our kids and their spouses have differing views of what the temperature ought to be for optimum sleeping. By my count the thermostat, in one night, was changed 4 times. The really stunning thing is that my oldest daughter and her husband really had no opinion and only changed it once. My son and his wife were sleeping in a room we just converted from an office to a bedroom and, well, apparently they thought it was a little warm. So when they went to bed, they changed the setting to 60. Which transformed the other two bedrooms into North Pole type rooms. When my eldest went to bed, she thought it was a little cool, so she turned it to 75. Sometime after 11PM, my son got up and changed it back to 60 because his wife had a dream that she was dying of thirst and couldn't get any water. At 3AM my youngest with her 3 month old, woke up and with baby crying realized it was sub-arctic , moved the baby into bed with them and reset the thermostat to 75, thus starting the cycle all over again. I think I'm going to put one of those cages on the thermostat with a key, but
I really don't want them coming downstairs at all hours of the night to get us to change the setting. By the way, yours truly and my bride slept just fine. But it was great fun listening to them give each other a hard time about resetting the temp. Finally after 30 years of teaching they finally understand that what you do affects others...never thought of using the thermostat.
2. Great food. We have started a tradition introduced by my first S-i-L of having Pisoli(spelling?) Christmas eve, a sort of New Mexican dish but with hominy. I skip the hominy, but eat the pork roast. Baked Ziti, Christmas cookies, big breakfasts, all good food, with my favorite people. What's not to like.
3. Non-expensive gifts to me from my kids. I always try to develop a list that costs very little. I don't mind spending a little on Christmas, I just hate having it spent on me. Probably the best thing was a serving platter decorated with my grandkids feet imprints and hands...and yes, a future nod to one who will be here around the first of July.
4. Time with Eli and Phoebe and Lincoln. I will just sum it up to say that I cannot hear "Grandaddy" too many times. It is tonic for the soul.
Finally, this was a great Christmas where all my kids and grandkids and bride are all in a good place. This past year has marked deep and intense prayers for each one. They all had struggle, they all had heartache, they all were making decisions that would impact their world and ours. So I spent the year on my knees pleading for my little family, asking God to intervene, to support, to simply answer. And He did, as He always does. Sometimes quietly, sometimes openly, but He chose this year year to test us all, then bless us all. I was on hand to see tremendous character revealed in each of my in-law kids. I found that their tears impact me in the same way as the tears of my own. But I also was on hand to see their smiles, their gratitude, and their fortitude. There will be times to come that will test us again, but we will be ready, with our faith, our memories, and our character.
This was, indeed, the best one yet.
Godspeed, the new year is full of promise, but what a way to end this one.
Don
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Surprise!
Saturday was one of those days you get in the pre-holiday weekends. I had decided to get the Christmas decorations cartons back in the attic, which is a little bit of a chore. Picture a very large plastic storage bin being shoved up the ladder into the attic opening, then pushed as far as possible towards the back of the attic, then the next bin...40 times or so. My eldest s-i-l has the best situation, their house has a huge storage space that you can walk into. Needless to say, by the time I'm through I have gotten a pretty good work out for the back, legs, arms and just about everything in between. Of course it would be nice to do this only once in the season, but we have to pull down the storage bins, so my bride can decorate, this takes about a week. Then I have to put the storage bins back because they take up too much room to leave out. After the season, they all have to come back down for reloading, then back into the attic. In my bride's defense, though, when we don't have the kids coming to Christmas,we don't decorate, we sort of become those people who don't celebrate the season.
So Saturday morning I put on my sweatshirt and sweatpants and started hauling it all into the attic. My bride made one appearance to inform me that the bin that I was holding had clasps that would prevent it from spilling. We did not exchange words, we merely looked at each other and she said, "well do it the way you want to, I was just telling you." I have long held that you can tell me what to do, or how to do it, but not both. At the end of the event, though, she was very appreciative, so it all worked out for the best.
We ate lunch and got ready for the rest of the day, which included dinner at my son's house. My bride has figured out that it is best not to tell me how many stops we have between here and there. More than two and my ears stop listening and my head sinks to my chest. Errands are the anathema of my weekends, regardless of how necessary they are. So we headed out towards Container Store, and points north.
Usually my son and D-i-L are pretty good about just saying when we get near call them, then just come on by. But Saturday our son kept being vague about when we could come on over. Now, he is by nature vague, but in this instance it was out of character. So we kept calling, and he kept stalling until late afternoon.
Finally we got the come on over signal and we pulled up to the house, gathered all the stuff we were supposed to bring and rang the doorbell. The door opened and we were greeted with a throng of kids (both daughters, son and D-i-L) plus THE GRANDKIDS! ALL OF THEM! Eli and Phoebe and Lincoln, all in one place, all at the same time. I remember Miss Phoebe Mae squealing, "Shurprish! Shurprish!" and dancing from one foot to the other. Nena (my bride) was stunned. We waded right into a maelstrom of hugging grandkids and kids. What a great surprise. Apparently my kids had cooked this up earlier in the week and kept it very quiet. I'm a little concerned that my kids all get along so well that they can, with great success, plot against their mother and myself with such ease.
But this memory gets filed with so many others. It still surprises me that the kids would go to this effort to surprise us, to make us happy. It was an unadulterated success. So what happens to these memories? They make up so much of our lives. They are in some part our entire anthology. We are our memories. I have no idea what heaven will be like, but I hope we get to keep our memories, especially the good ones, the ones that filled us with warmth, that brought us to happy tears. I wonder if part of our "worship" in heaven will be the eternal keeping of these memories. Memories created by a loving God to give his creation a sense of belonging, a sense of right-ness with those around us who matter. What if at that moment we get to remember all the events that made us who we are..first kiss, first dance with a lover, holding our little ones for the first time, moments of intense belonging, last kiss, last hug, last "I love you", a moment of never forgetting, of eternal remembering. Sounds like heaven to me.
Each day is a surprise, a treasure of memories, a glimpse of fleeting rapture. Memories..like so much thread woven into the fabric of our lives.
Godspeed to the travelers on this journey. Make this a season of eternal memories. Tis the season..indeed.
Don
So Saturday morning I put on my sweatshirt and sweatpants and started hauling it all into the attic. My bride made one appearance to inform me that the bin that I was holding had clasps that would prevent it from spilling. We did not exchange words, we merely looked at each other and she said, "well do it the way you want to, I was just telling you." I have long held that you can tell me what to do, or how to do it, but not both. At the end of the event, though, she was very appreciative, so it all worked out for the best.
We ate lunch and got ready for the rest of the day, which included dinner at my son's house. My bride has figured out that it is best not to tell me how many stops we have between here and there. More than two and my ears stop listening and my head sinks to my chest. Errands are the anathema of my weekends, regardless of how necessary they are. So we headed out towards Container Store, and points north.
Usually my son and D-i-L are pretty good about just saying when we get near call them, then just come on by. But Saturday our son kept being vague about when we could come on over. Now, he is by nature vague, but in this instance it was out of character. So we kept calling, and he kept stalling until late afternoon.
Finally we got the come on over signal and we pulled up to the house, gathered all the stuff we were supposed to bring and rang the doorbell. The door opened and we were greeted with a throng of kids (both daughters, son and D-i-L) plus THE GRANDKIDS! ALL OF THEM! Eli and Phoebe and Lincoln, all in one place, all at the same time. I remember Miss Phoebe Mae squealing, "Shurprish! Shurprish!" and dancing from one foot to the other. Nena (my bride) was stunned. We waded right into a maelstrom of hugging grandkids and kids. What a great surprise. Apparently my kids had cooked this up earlier in the week and kept it very quiet. I'm a little concerned that my kids all get along so well that they can, with great success, plot against their mother and myself with such ease.
But this memory gets filed with so many others. It still surprises me that the kids would go to this effort to surprise us, to make us happy. It was an unadulterated success. So what happens to these memories? They make up so much of our lives. They are in some part our entire anthology. We are our memories. I have no idea what heaven will be like, but I hope we get to keep our memories, especially the good ones, the ones that filled us with warmth, that brought us to happy tears. I wonder if part of our "worship" in heaven will be the eternal keeping of these memories. Memories created by a loving God to give his creation a sense of belonging, a sense of right-ness with those around us who matter. What if at that moment we get to remember all the events that made us who we are..first kiss, first dance with a lover, holding our little ones for the first time, moments of intense belonging, last kiss, last hug, last "I love you", a moment of never forgetting, of eternal remembering. Sounds like heaven to me.
Each day is a surprise, a treasure of memories, a glimpse of fleeting rapture. Memories..like so much thread woven into the fabric of our lives.
Godspeed to the travelers on this journey. Make this a season of eternal memories. Tis the season..indeed.
Don
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Faith Communities...Or Church
Last night I was organizing and filing away all my papers and lesson plans from my second tour of duty in college. There is some great stuff there, but who needs the papers that I wrote, with all the professor's red marks and comments? Not me. So I was throwing away a bunch of stuff and glancing through notes I made to see if there was anything of value, when I came across this quote, "The Church of Christ is gone forever, all we have left are museums." In my usual meticulous fashion I didn't write down the author of the quote, but I wondered what had led him/her to that conclusion? I think we have all had days where we would agree, but as I pondered this quote a couple of things came to my mind.
I'm currently in a group that is doing the preliminary work of visiting with men who have a desire to serve as elders/shepherds/spiritual leaders of the congregation where we are attending. The group developed a set of questions and the one that I always get to ask is, "As one who will be responsible for the spiritual development of the members, what does that look like? What are the ingredients of that process?" Ummm, let's see, ummm. Wow, what a good question. Does it not bother anyone else that we don't even think in those terms? Shouldn't a spiritual leader be able to articulate a process? These men have all raised children to adult believers, wasn't there some reflection on what this looks like? Shouldn't we all have an internal process that we can articulate about our own development? This lack of focus bothers me.
If we don't have men leading us who have a clear concept of spiritual formation, how can we develop a community of faith that exhibits "informed judgement"? You see, I think the church should be a community of people who see things as they truly are and can articulate the truth, both ancient and modern. Instead, we have men and women who are stuck in a particular theological spot, and seem quite happy to stay there. Consequently we have churches that seem to settle back instead of being a continuing force in the world around them. I used to think that the reason the christian movement has lost its' way is because we have lost the desire to evangelize. In reality, I think the words of a preacher friend of mine captures the real problem, "I'd rather catch 'em, than clean 'em" Spiritual development is hard work, it is long-term, and it frequently is disappointing. So we would rather develop programs than people, we would rather build an organization than feed an organism.
It would do my heart a lot of good, if someone would spend 20 minutes explaining to me the ideas they have about spiritual formation, and have to be cut off at that. I think this is the very reason that very small groups work so well. A lot of spiritual formation is mentor/protege, mature leading immature along the path, You can't do this with 75 people, or even 30. And if you want to develop leaders it is almost a one-on-one deal. Spiritual formation is not a 4-year degree, it is a life long journey, pulling along those that follow.
If you have thoughts about this, I would love to hear them. I have a fairly developed view of this, but am always looking to add to the arsenal.
Museums tend to be visited a lot, but not habitat ed. Could this be what the author meant? Could it be that because we don't see the true value of spiritually forming people that the church has become a collection of ancient and quaint ideas and doctrines? Are we now in a spot where the true church is a "remnant" rather than a community? Questions on questions.
Godspeed, let me know.
Don
I'm currently in a group that is doing the preliminary work of visiting with men who have a desire to serve as elders/shepherds/spiritual leaders of the congregation where we are attending. The group developed a set of questions and the one that I always get to ask is, "As one who will be responsible for the spiritual development of the members, what does that look like? What are the ingredients of that process?" Ummm, let's see, ummm. Wow, what a good question. Does it not bother anyone else that we don't even think in those terms? Shouldn't a spiritual leader be able to articulate a process? These men have all raised children to adult believers, wasn't there some reflection on what this looks like? Shouldn't we all have an internal process that we can articulate about our own development? This lack of focus bothers me.
If we don't have men leading us who have a clear concept of spiritual formation, how can we develop a community of faith that exhibits "informed judgement"? You see, I think the church should be a community of people who see things as they truly are and can articulate the truth, both ancient and modern. Instead, we have men and women who are stuck in a particular theological spot, and seem quite happy to stay there. Consequently we have churches that seem to settle back instead of being a continuing force in the world around them. I used to think that the reason the christian movement has lost its' way is because we have lost the desire to evangelize. In reality, I think the words of a preacher friend of mine captures the real problem, "I'd rather catch 'em, than clean 'em" Spiritual development is hard work, it is long-term, and it frequently is disappointing. So we would rather develop programs than people, we would rather build an organization than feed an organism.
It would do my heart a lot of good, if someone would spend 20 minutes explaining to me the ideas they have about spiritual formation, and have to be cut off at that. I think this is the very reason that very small groups work so well. A lot of spiritual formation is mentor/protege, mature leading immature along the path, You can't do this with 75 people, or even 30. And if you want to develop leaders it is almost a one-on-one deal. Spiritual formation is not a 4-year degree, it is a life long journey, pulling along those that follow.
If you have thoughts about this, I would love to hear them. I have a fairly developed view of this, but am always looking to add to the arsenal.
Museums tend to be visited a lot, but not habitat ed. Could this be what the author meant? Could it be that because we don't see the true value of spiritually forming people that the church has become a collection of ancient and quaint ideas and doctrines? Are we now in a spot where the true church is a "remnant" rather than a community? Questions on questions.
Godspeed, let me know.
Don
Friday, December 11, 2009
Christmas is Coming!
My bride and I have entered into a very interesting time in our journey. Our kids are all grown, have all gotten off my payroll, found wonderful mates, and begun producing some of the finest grandkids ever..Each of our kids chose to ignore our advice, marry an orphan. They all chose to marry people from big families, with holiday traditions and holiday plans. So, my bride and I have to accommodate to holidays where we either have the entire crew (what we refer to as the "good" holiday) or have a much quieter holiday (what we refer to as the "sucky" holiday) The quiet holidays are actually not that bad. We get some time to do some things and spend time with people we might not normally visit.
And with all that said, this is our "good" Christmas. All the kids and kids-in-laws and grandkids are headed our way. Now let me tell you a little about my bride, this chick LOVES holidays..all of them. She sends care packages to the grandkids for Valentine's Day with red and white M&Ms. She sends a care package on July 4th, birthdays, graduations, Thanksgiving. But her favorite, by far - not even close, is Christmas. She has, over the years, collected an impressive assortment of snowmen. We pulled all this down from the attic the week of Thanksgiving and before I knew it we had an entire battalion of snowmen camped on the hearth, awaiting their posting, some to the mantle, some to shelves, some just posted randomly around the house. It is not uncommon to find a snowman still at his post in mid-March. Sort of like those Japanese soldiers they used to find on those little atolls in the Pacific, not knowing if the war was over, but thrilled to be found and sent home.
So my bride loves everything about the event, the shopping, the planning, the anticipation. The only thing that makes her cranky is my lower key approach to the entire event. Now, don't get me wrong, I love Christmas, but the comparison to the level of enthusiasm as compared to my bride gets me branded as a Grinch. Comparing our attitude towards the holiday is like comparing my golf game to Tiger Wood's (although with his distractions right now I might could make a game of it) I love the time together, the memories that this holiday throws off like so much confetti, the food, the laughter, the good tears, the hugs, the snuggling, and simply the time together. It is the realization that time is not on our side, the Christmases left are fewer than the ones ahead.
So here is to those who find the joy in the season whether as the Christmas believer or the anywhere along the spectrum. And especially to my bride..the greatest gift of my life, thank you for being you.
Godpeed
Don
And with all that said, this is our "good" Christmas. All the kids and kids-in-laws and grandkids are headed our way. Now let me tell you a little about my bride, this chick LOVES holidays..all of them. She sends care packages to the grandkids for Valentine's Day with red and white M&Ms. She sends a care package on July 4th, birthdays, graduations, Thanksgiving. But her favorite, by far - not even close, is Christmas. She has, over the years, collected an impressive assortment of snowmen. We pulled all this down from the attic the week of Thanksgiving and before I knew it we had an entire battalion of snowmen camped on the hearth, awaiting their posting, some to the mantle, some to shelves, some just posted randomly around the house. It is not uncommon to find a snowman still at his post in mid-March. Sort of like those Japanese soldiers they used to find on those little atolls in the Pacific, not knowing if the war was over, but thrilled to be found and sent home.
So my bride loves everything about the event, the shopping, the planning, the anticipation. The only thing that makes her cranky is my lower key approach to the entire event. Now, don't get me wrong, I love Christmas, but the comparison to the level of enthusiasm as compared to my bride gets me branded as a Grinch. Comparing our attitude towards the holiday is like comparing my golf game to Tiger Wood's (although with his distractions right now I might could make a game of it) I love the time together, the memories that this holiday throws off like so much confetti, the food, the laughter, the good tears, the hugs, the snuggling, and simply the time together. It is the realization that time is not on our side, the Christmases left are fewer than the ones ahead.
So here is to those who find the joy in the season whether as the Christmas believer or the anywhere along the spectrum. And especially to my bride..the greatest gift of my life, thank you for being you.
Godpeed
Don
Saturday, December 5, 2009
How sad..but not uncommon
I have followed with interest the travails of Tiger Woods this week. So much prestige, so much pride, so much entitlement, swirling the drain. Even in his "apology" he is pointing fingers, lashing out at the same media that made him what he is. I tell myself often, and anyone else who will listen, a true and sincere apology comes with no caveats. "I am sorry." Period. No "but" after the first three words. I am sorry, truly spoken, focuses the blame on me, not the victim, not the ones who ferreted out the truth...me. This is, by far, the hardest apology to make. To stand before the one whom you have injured and open the heart and soul to the one who has been harmed and wait for the judgement that is due.
We live in a society that lives vicariously through the famous, the glamorous, the fortunate. We hang on their words (regardless of the validity of those words) We buy their stuff, we tell them in ways big and small that they are the reality of our world. I was tickled to hear Seinfeld say in a roast one time that he is stunned that people listen to actors at all. "They are told where to stand, what to say, and how to say it. Then we give them a microphone and hang on their very words." How true.
So how did this happen? How can a guy with so much to lose, act so recklessly? Logically you would have to say that he wasn't thinking, at all. He disregarded not only the common-sense decisions, he disregarded the moral and ethical decisions as well. You can blame it on entitlement, maybe he just felt like he was impervious to any consequences. Perhaps the blame is on the system, it wasn't his fault. Oh wait, maybe he is sick, addicted to love, so to speak.
Over the years I have been able to observe men who suffered a "moral breakdown" Some of these guys I knew, some I observed from a little distance, and some I observed through the lens of the popular media. I believe there is a single common theme to all these failures. Putting it simply, I think they did not have any advisor in their life that they admired more than themselves. You see when a man sees himself as the ultimate authority he can rationalize anything. I deserve the extra money, she doesn't appreciate me the way this new person does, no one else understands. We can talk ourselves into anything. I have been fortunate to have other men in my life who I admired more than I admire my version of myself. The first is my dad. I have never met anyone with more personal integrity than he has. I have never known him to lie, either verbally or emotionally. He instilled deeply in me the importance of truth, to myself and to others. So early on I had a man in my life who thought it worthwhile to teach me honesty. Then as the years rolled by other men came into my life who took the time and effort to teach me the importance of living a life of integrity. Even today, I have a few men who watch my life and call my hand on moments when I seem to be wandering off base.
You see when men who have a level of celebrity morally fail, it points to lack of accountability that we need as men. But that accountability has to be with men we admire more than we admire our vision of ourselves. This episode may well cost Tiger more than money, or his prestige, or his family. It may well cost him his deluded picture of himself. He needs to find someone he admires, not because they make more money (few do) or because they are a better athlete, or because they share a similar spotlight, but because they have shown the ability to live a life of integrity, whatever the cost.
Accountability is an awesome word. It is a word that compels us to open our lives up to inspection, to open our thoughts and actions up to a higher power.
Tiger failed because he did not value the need to find a man who could tell him his life was on a path of destruction. How sad...but not uncommon.
Godspeed out there guys..find a spiritual exemplar, it is almost impossible without them.
Don
We live in a society that lives vicariously through the famous, the glamorous, the fortunate. We hang on their words (regardless of the validity of those words) We buy their stuff, we tell them in ways big and small that they are the reality of our world. I was tickled to hear Seinfeld say in a roast one time that he is stunned that people listen to actors at all. "They are told where to stand, what to say, and how to say it. Then we give them a microphone and hang on their very words." How true.
So how did this happen? How can a guy with so much to lose, act so recklessly? Logically you would have to say that he wasn't thinking, at all. He disregarded not only the common-sense decisions, he disregarded the moral and ethical decisions as well. You can blame it on entitlement, maybe he just felt like he was impervious to any consequences. Perhaps the blame is on the system, it wasn't his fault. Oh wait, maybe he is sick, addicted to love, so to speak.
Over the years I have been able to observe men who suffered a "moral breakdown" Some of these guys I knew, some I observed from a little distance, and some I observed through the lens of the popular media. I believe there is a single common theme to all these failures. Putting it simply, I think they did not have any advisor in their life that they admired more than themselves. You see when a man sees himself as the ultimate authority he can rationalize anything. I deserve the extra money, she doesn't appreciate me the way this new person does, no one else understands. We can talk ourselves into anything. I have been fortunate to have other men in my life who I admired more than I admire my version of myself. The first is my dad. I have never met anyone with more personal integrity than he has. I have never known him to lie, either verbally or emotionally. He instilled deeply in me the importance of truth, to myself and to others. So early on I had a man in my life who thought it worthwhile to teach me honesty. Then as the years rolled by other men came into my life who took the time and effort to teach me the importance of living a life of integrity. Even today, I have a few men who watch my life and call my hand on moments when I seem to be wandering off base.
You see when men who have a level of celebrity morally fail, it points to lack of accountability that we need as men. But that accountability has to be with men we admire more than we admire our vision of ourselves. This episode may well cost Tiger more than money, or his prestige, or his family. It may well cost him his deluded picture of himself. He needs to find someone he admires, not because they make more money (few do) or because they are a better athlete, or because they share a similar spotlight, but because they have shown the ability to live a life of integrity, whatever the cost.
Accountability is an awesome word. It is a word that compels us to open our lives up to inspection, to open our thoughts and actions up to a higher power.
Tiger failed because he did not value the need to find a man who could tell him his life was on a path of destruction. How sad...but not uncommon.
Godspeed out there guys..find a spiritual exemplar, it is almost impossible without them.
Don
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