And Then There Were Four..

This past Saturday at 5:57PM Mr. Isaac Jolly made his way into the world. Like all healthy babies he came into the world kicking and screaming. I haven't heard of many who come in calm and collected.

My son made the comment that he may be the most "prayed for" baby ever. I'm not sure of that. We have spent enormous amounts of time praying for Eli, and Miss Phoebe and the month in NICU by Lincoln tested all of us. But I will say that there may have been a lot more prayer getting Isaac "started." But whatever the debate, there is no debate that we are thrilled to see him here and healthy.

What we haven't been able to prepare my son and D-i-L for is the constant fatigue that now becomes a part of your life. It is almost like you can't remember what "rested" felt like. I told my M-i-L some 30-odd years ago that I think we get the same amount of sleep, it just happens at your desk, a stop light, in the shower, etc. All of sudden this charade that each adult controls their own destiny comes crumbling down. Now life is dictated by a 6lb/11oz, 18" bundle of squeaks, leaks, stained clothes. And he has no sense of the clock. For a time it all revolves around him. Rest, clean clothes, gaming, reading, movies, eating out..all take a back seat.

But the boy is precious. I got to see the wonder in my son's face as he cradled this new miracle in his arms. I could almost read his thoughts, the joy, the concern, the new responsibility is never as acute as it is at that moment of realization, "This boy is mine, to mold, care for, to protect, to grow." Stunning in the awareness, overwhelming in the immediacy. But he will learn that this little bitty boy is far tougher than any of us can imagine.

So we almost can field a basketball team, although genetics are against most of them.

Godspeed, the journey is crowding up nicely.
Don

A Tale of Two Journals

For the past 7 or 8 years I have kept a journal. When I started I asked a friend how to keep a journal. He said he had kept one for years and didn't really know. He just encouraged me and warned me that it would be difficult at times. No kidding. So I started and wrote at least every week, if not every day. It is at times a travel journal, a vent against injustice, a lament, a joy. It is full of prayers and psalms. It is at times superficial, at times deeply personal. It is hand written, which allows for "slower" thinking. It is not shared.

But this blog tricked me into thinking that I was practicing the spiritual discipline of journaling, which it isn't. This blog is merely musing about the state of affairs around me. My personal journal is one where all the truth and joy and anguish get exposed. It shines the light into the dark corners and chases away the demons. It allows me to be honest about all things "Don" Good, bad, indifferent. In a way, it is a road map of my spiritual travels, an assessment of where I am spiritually, emotionally.

If you do not keep a journal, please start one. It will help you see the recurrent themes in your spiritual walk. It will be a great reminder of triumphs and heartbreak and struggle. You can write whatever you wish, you can explore the wounds of being a husband, father, son, faith member. You can write your own prayers, set in time and space, but ageless in their poignancy. Over time you can see the fingerprints of God on your life and remember that He is there..always. You can write things that you would never say out loud, you can pray things that would never be accepted or understood within a community of faith. You do not have to be a writer, just a follower of the better things in life.

Yes, I keep two journals. One for you, one for me. What will happen to it after I am dead and gone? Shrug. I don't know. I hope my bride and kids and their kids find some value there. I am hoping it will explain the parts of my personality that they never really understood. I hope it buys me some grace here on earth while I am learning about it first hand in the ultimate kingdom.

Godspeed, write it down..live it out.
Don

Let's Go Surfin' Now

Now that the Beach Boys are roaming around in your head, let me tell you about our trip to the beach with my eldest daughter's family. It was full of fun, good foods, meltdowns, minor crisis, laughter, and snuggling. A great time.

Tuesday afternoon the Amarillo crew connected through Dallas on Southwest. My bride and I met them at the gate and flew with them to Corpus Christi connecting through Houston. Phoebe the 3-year-old was ecstatic to traveling in such a novel and adventurous way. When she is excited she talks, a lot, loud. She was so wound up that it took all the rest of us to keep up. Eli, being 7, was more mature about the entire deal. Of course he was pretty doped up from being kicked by a horse the previous day, thigh and face, he looked like he was on the wrong end of a rumble. Brad has all the electronic gadgets, so Eli spent most of the flight watching the old Karate Kid. Phoebe talked.

We landed around 6PM and everyone was starved. We wanted something quick, but good, and Jordan wanted a salad. Hmm. The final decision was a reluctant CiCis Pizza. Actually pretty good food. We chowed down, reloaded into the van and headed to Target for "beach toys" and HEB for groceries. By the time all that was done and the minor skirmishes with kids and planners were resolved, we drove the final 20 miles or so to the condo. Very nice. My bride (known as Nena to her grandkids) and I had the middle floor with the kitchen and living room, but we had our own room with our own bath. The kids were on the bottom floor, the parents on the third floor. We settled in and crashed after a very long day.

The next few days fell into a pattern. I would get coffee going, then, when it looked like we had a majority up and moving I would fix breakfast. Clean up, then off to the beach. The beach was only a couple hundred yards away, but it would have taken a pack mule to get all the stuff there, so we took the van. Morning at the beach, head to the condo for lunch and nap, then back to the beach for a couple of hours, then back to condo for dinner. Jordan and I love to cook together, so we would bustle around the kitchen, making suggestions to each other about the way to try something, bumping into each other, generally having a good time. The food, by the way, was phenomenal.

The first morning on the beach was an experience. Eli dove right in. Phoebe, not so much. I recall her screaming, "I HATE GETTING DIRTY!!" By the end of the second day, she was wading right in and having a blast. My guess is that she built about 300 sand structures, covered her dad in sand, and sat still long enough for Nena to craft a mermaid tail around her lower body and then pose for pictures.
I taught Eli how to body surf. It took a bit for him to get the hang of it, but he had such fun trying. He was also battling the waves. He would go out as far as he could go and pound them as they broke over him. Sometimes he would adopt the "crane" maneuver, sometimes he would simply pound away with his fists, sometimes he was just take the wave on chest deep and yell, "IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!?" It occurs to me that there was a lot of noise on this trip.
It also occurred to me that facing the waves is a life struggle we all have. We are pitiful in making the wave change course, or not knock us down, but there is something noble in the willingness to fight it anyway. No hope to win, but the fight gives us some resemblance of significance. Contemplatives rarely get a vacation.

Sand and sun, kids and fun. Memories stored away.

Godspeed to those out there who get the rare chance to be invited on your kids and grandkids vacation. What a treat.
Don

I Tweaked My Back

Yes, sports fans, the back "went out" as in "I threw my back out" Although there was no throwing. Apparently it is a common malady for guys my age. You would think that I would be ready for it. Every morning something feels like something is going out, knees, ankles, neck, you name it something always hurts. But I have never had much trouble with my lower back. I learned early that the better lesson is not lift-with-your-legs, but never to lift at all if possible. A lesson I ignored Saturday.

Friday was a great day. Church golf tournament, with me doing some of the coordination. Got everyone signed in, money collected, usual jokes about the bad golf about to be unleashed on the golf course. We had fun playing, not even close to winning. Prizes were awarded, hamburgers consumed, prayer circle at the end.

So Saturday was yard day. My bride went to Canton for First Monday, along with my youngest. I stayed home to mow, edge, weedeat, and replant some flowers into a big washtub. Mowing went great, weedeating was uneventful, edging always makes me think of my son. I use the edger I bought the year he was born..30 years ago. Like my truck, it doesn't owe me any money.

Then the replant. We had decided to put a layer of small rocks in the bottom of the flower pot, which come in 40 lb sacks. No problem hauling it out to the flowerbed. Got everything together, turned to pick up the rock sack and felt something in my lower back "pop." It was a the pop and the lock-down, think-this-over pain that got my attention. Never had this before, but it can't be good. Finished the job and sort of crab-walked back to the house.

Took a shower wincing at each bend and turn. Then got on the couch. You would think that would be the end of the story. But a good friend called and wanted to get in a late afternoon round of golf..both wives gone, 3 hours to kill. Sure! Why not?!
Let's just say this back thing tended to make my follow-through a little abbreviated. Or to put it another way, it hurt like mischief right at the end of the swing. So as the round progressed my body began to anticipate the pain at the end and just chose not to follow all the way through. I shot a smooth running 90, not good.

That evening we went to my youngest daughters house for my son's birthday. Evening went okay except that after dinner I stretched out on the floor. BIG mistake. Couldn't get up.
Sunday night we went to see "Wicked" at the Dallas Summer Musicals, my friends thought I was not impressed with the show. But it is hard to be appreciative with back spasms. Plus the 10-year-old girl occasionally kicking the back of my seat.Cool show, though. I would like to see it when the painometer is not red-lining.

Monday I had had enough. I broke down and called my chiropractor and he could see me that morning. These guys are interesting. Touch your toes, I assume he means without screaming loud enough to bother the room full of waiting patients. Now, turn left, turn right, touch your nose..oh wait, that's something else. I gave him my first opinion that it was muscular, not nerve. I'm sure he appreciated me offering my diagnosis, why spend all that time in school when some old coot can tell you what's wrong. He felt around and announced I had displaced, slightly, one of my vertebrae. So he adjusted my back. Here's how that fun works. Stretch out on your right side, bend the top leg over the straightened lower leg, turn your shoulders a quarter turn. Then he uses all his weight to try and snap you in half. Don't worry about the loud and pronounced snap in your spine. I love the encouragement to "relax" just before he twists you into a pretzel. Then turn over and do the same from the other side...not as much relaxation this time. A quick reassuring pat that the vertebrae is now where it belongs, but I will be sore for several more days. Then the "stim" treatment, which feels like bugs crawling under the skin and a cold pack.

I crept back to the truck and vowed that the d*** plants could replant themselves in the future.

Of course I have gotten a little sympathy from my bride, although the "Will you get a glass of water" routine is already running thin.

Godspeed out there. Here is my take...more golf, less yard work.
Don

Is It Just My Imagination?

For those who follow this blog, I have mentioned my 2000 Ford Ranger several times. It was the truck that threw itself in front of a charging deer in W. Texas. It is my forced exercise in maintaining a hold on frugality. We are old work partners. This truck has survived a daughter's stint in college. It is just an old truck that is wearing out.
Here is the list:
1. The transmission is going out. When it gets hot, apparently it is stuck in 3rd gear, which means the acceleration is just about equal to mine when I get up in the morning. It (and I) can get to cruising speed, it just takes a little while. This is a little worrisome in Dallas traffic. The Lexus/Camry/BMW crowd blast past with looks of annoyance, while me and my little red truck are trying to make a turn...in 3rd gear.
2. It leaks. Whenever it rains the passenger side floorboard becomes an in-door swimming pool. Now if I let it sit for a day, it becomes a swamp, then a cesspool. I try to get it dry before then.
3. The armrest/console lid is broken. More specifically the latch is broken. So for a couple of days I rode around with it open, then used a large rubber band to sort of close it, then found a perfectly sized strap with a large snap closure. So really this one is fixed and it has that nice black-strap-grey-interior contrast thing going.
4. It has 226,000 miles on the odometer. I bought it when it had 25,000 miles. As a friend of mine said, "it doesn't owe you any money" It has been one durable little truck.
5. The interior dome light got to where it would not turn off..which would run down the battery..which would make me cuss. So I fixed it in my own way..I pulled out the bulb. No interior lights makes for an interesting evening when you are looking for something in the floorboard at night. Cell phone displays are nearly bright enough to do the trick. Of course my bride has this fancy new I-phone with a flashlight app. That really works great.
6. The "clicker" only works on the driver's side to "unlock" It does not work on the passenger side at all. It will not lock the truck. I have taken to leaving it unlocked hoping some punk will steal the thing and save me the turmoil of having to get rid of it. No such luck. Apparently today's punks have higher standards than my little truck.
7. The front air spoil hangs a little low due to a front-end bump I had during an ice storm in Dallas, really just a little kiss to the truck in front of me. But it hangs down a little like a perpetual frown.

So for the past few months I have been looking at other cars. My bride is encouraging me to consider hybrids. I made the mistake of requesting an on-line quote from Ford (Fusion) and Honda (Accord) and Toyota (Prius) and Hyundai (Sonata). BIG MISTAKE. Apparently these folks have nothing else to do but annoy me with follow-up emails. Hyundai does not introduce their Sonata Hybrid until later in 2010, so I'm using that as an excuse to put all the others off.

Now all of a sudden my little truck is running a little better. Someone put the dome light bulb back in and the thing works and hasn't run the battery down. Its a little dim, but better than my blackberry. It still leaks, but it is summer in Dallas, unless I park next to a sprinkler I don't have to worry about it. Do you think the old girl perceives that she about to be replaced? Is it just my imagination that she is trying to keep her spot in the driveway? She probably has heard from the other cars in the parking lots that the next destination is Mexico. All of a sudden this old red Ford Ranger is trying to clean up her act. Could it be?

Naw. This is just my imagination. Isn't it?

Godspeed to all out there who anthromorphize their stuff. Someday all our stuff may turn on us. All new car conversations now happen in the house.
Don

Building Trust

I am pushing through a book called Integrity: The Courage to Meet the Demands of Reality, by Dr. Henry Cloud. It has a description that says, " how six essential qualities determine your success in business." As a book it is not particularly enlightening, but it is one of the first attempts I have seen where biblical principles (he does not use that term) are applied in the business world. I am more accustomed to the business world influencing our spiritual walk, but that is another matter.

Chapter 5 is "Building Trust Through Extending Favor" It is a chapter on, want to guess? Grace. Huh? But this little chapter gives a pretty good working definition of the term. "Grace is when we extend "favor" to someone, not because they have earned it in some way, but because we just possess it to give. It is a stance in life, a way of being." He is quick to point out that this is not a license to let others take advantage. In fact, this becomes the real battle, extending grace and maintaining a life that is not abused. Our current corporate climate is built more on competition than trust. it is simply easier to treat everyone as an adversary, than a partner. But the point of this little book is to create a different culture, a different way. His point is that we have to change the way we think before we can expect the way we act to change. Orthodoxy always drives orthopraxy, not the other way around.

Here is my question. Are we born with a bent towards grace? or do we develop it? I don't know. I have come to the conclusion that there are generous people and there are people who are not encumbered with the flaw of generosity. Can we teach them differently? I think we move them a little along the continuum from stingy to generous, but I'm not sure they will ever make the entire journey. Being able to extend "favor" or "grace" may be the same way. Some folks may just be born with that chip, while others are not.

I am in the midst of helping develop a company. A primary concept in our interviewing process is one of collaboration, of extending "favor" to each other and to our customers. We will not stand for territorial battles, we will sacrifice talent for team. I don't want us to be uniform, I want us to be unified. Pipe-dream? Maybe. But we are going to give it a shot. We are going to develop partnerships based on trust. This is going to require transparency, forgiveness, and grace. Will it work? I will let you know in a few years.

Godspeed
Don

Ground Zero

It looks like the new company we have been working on will become a reality. The money has transferred, but not posted. We met for a strategy session in LA yesterday and today. We gathered the entire company together..all four of us. One of the other players works for me, then he went back to the airport and it left three senior officers to discuss our next moves. It occurred to me that we needed to hire somebody, anybody, so we would have someone to boss around. It is a little unsettling to realize that the group that makes it happen is sitting around one small table, each relying on the other to get the job done.

I am excited, anxious, scared, thrilled, exuberant, hesitant, unsure, and positive. You sort out all the conflicting feelings.

But here are a few things that I think work in our favor.

The CEO knows what he is doing. He is genius in pulling together finance, sourcing, operations and distribution. I have blogged about him before, and here is his greatest strength..he is honest. He and I are as different as night and day, literally. I go to bed at 10PM (Texas time, it doesn't matter what time zone I am in) He is a very late night owl. I'm up and at 'em at 5AM (again, Texas time) He is not fully aware of an 8AM (any time zone) I am a hardcore morning person, he is decided not. I play golf and hit the elliptical three times a week, he swims. He is a numbers person, I am a single numbers person, sales dollars. He needs to figure out the rest. But we have a great deal in common. We both care about our people, we both want to work in a culture of openness and collaboration, we both are intensely loyal to the people who share our dreams and we are both dreamers..each in our own way.

Is it possible that God held us all in place to start this at precisely this time? I have never seen a moment in time more ripe with potential than right now. We have talked about this for 2 years. We have run through all the scenarios, he has suffered through job loss and lost everything. But now we have a chance to make this a truly special unique force in a very small industry. It occurs to me that this has all lined up at the right moment and circumstances. I veer away from God taking a personal stake in trivial events, but this one has His fingerprints all over it. This feels right, as in it feels like it is exactly what I need to be doing right now. Ever feel that way?

Finally, this is an opportunity to make a cultural statement in business culture. All my life I have "inherited" the sins and successes of others. I have become pretty adept at deflecting the shortcomings, while selling the strengths of other's dreams. Now it is my turn to develop the dream, to instill it in others, and to finally make a place where people of integrity will want to work. Above all else I want compassionate people, who work hard, who care deeply about what we are trying to do, who understand the priorities of life. We can create that in a corporate structure. I honestly believe we can.

Anyway, if you have followed my journey, whisper a little prayer for me and my little group.
Godspeed
Don