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Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Shoes on the Altar


Landon (Missionary in Edmonton, Canada) sent home a box with a family that stayed with us that he had become friends with there.  We were so excited to go through his 'stuff'.  There was something for each of the kids.  There was chocolate, and other cool candy from Canada, a Chinese ping pong paddle for Braden, some Chinese jewelry for the girls etc....

At the bottom of the box was a pair of worn out shoes.  At first glance I thought, "Good heavens, why did you send these home--should have thrown them out!"  I looked again....I recognized them.... they were mine since about 2004 when I bought them in NY.  I remember when Landon finally grew into them a year before his mission years later. He used to wear them to church. Then they were good enough to keep on truckin' to Canada.  I didn't think they would last nearly as long as they did.

I looked closer... I saw the area on the heel where he had really worn through the sole, but what put a smile on my face was the use of "shoe goo".  This meant that he was actually trying to hold these suckers together for as long as he could.  Memories of my Dad putting shoe goo on my tennis shoes came flooding back!  The stuff really works by the way. 
I couldn't help but sit there with shoe in hand and start to wonder what stories these shoes might tell.  They had seen a few miles, probably weathered at least one Northern Canadian winter and all other manner of streets, paths, grass, gunk and gook.  What I was reminded of is that these shoes weren't really the thing to focus on... no, what became immediately more important were the destinations:......the people, the meaningful exchanges, friendships, prayers and families that happened because of these shoes.  They were a simple "means to an end, not the "end" unto itself." To me in that moment, they represented a thousand memories that all involved people as the "end".

I felt a warm feeling spread through me as I imagined Landon putting on the shoe goo every couple of nights....then hoping his feet would stay dry with the hole in the sole getting wider each day.  There came a time, I am sure when he finally looked at them and said: "Ok shoes, you have done me well, thank you! We have traveled well together you and I...you have carried me all these days and have never let me down.....We worked so hard together..."

I will never forget the 2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney.... An unassuming man from Wyoming named Rulon Gardner beat Alexander Karelin, the supposedly unbeatable heavyweight to win the Gold.  It was amazing.....actually stunning!  Everyone told him he should have quit, but he didn't.  He went on to win the Bronze medal 4 years later.  As soon as the referee lifted his arm, he immediately wrapped himself in an American flag, wiped the tears from his eyes and sat down and started untying his shoes.  He then placed them in the center of the mat and left.  This for wrestlers, is the metaphor of retirement.... not because they are old, but rather an expression of their effort.  Gardner said it so well:

"To leave them on the mat meant I left everything on the mat as a wrestler,"


I clearly remember watching all of this with much reverence.  I totally felt like I was witnessing something incredibly special and personal that would leave a mark on me forever.  I had no idea what he was doing, or why he did it until the announcer explained.  I remember how I felt, I remember my own wet eyes and the pride I felt in being of the same nationality of this great athlete warrior.  Maybe you watched too and remember as well....

So, I thought again one last time before I put Landon's missionary shoes back in the "box" (mat) and felt the Spirit come over me and I thought about this parallel.... maybe Landon was taking off his shoes as well.... Could it be that he gave his all and left everything he had as well on the "mat" of his missionary call and stewardship thus far ?  I don't know... but I would like to think so.  All I really know is that same feeling watching Rulon during the Olympics came to me in that moment and caused in me many emotions of gratitude for his effort, his desire and dedication to work so hard on the behalf of others and to be a warrior for the cause he believes in, that of serving our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who we all know, at the end of his life, put everything he had, literally his life in the center of the atonement "mat" for every one of us, so that we can live again, forever in His presence and to feel the exquisiteness of His love.

I never learned more from a pair of shoes like I did with that gosh darn 'ol pair......

Now.... all I need to do is follow your example and hope that at the end of my last match, I can place my shoes on the center of my life's mat and walk away with the same feelings that Rulon and Landon have..... Landon, you were inspired to send them, I needed to touch, feel and experience them.......for which I will be forever grateful. 



Thursday, September 11, 2014

The Phone Call

Not a great day today....  No, the details don't really matter.  The day just had no soul, no energy, no life.  It seemed all to happen around me, as if I wasn't really there, rather more like I was a phantom bystander, watching things happen around me but involved....  I know I did stuff....but have no idea what.  I think I ate, yeah, a piece of pizza from Harmons.  I know I went with friends, but have no idea what we talked about.  I had meetings all day long but have no idea what they were about....I
didn't laugh, didn't cry, I mostly was invisibly 'there'.

I had a late meeting until 7pm... afterwards I drove a friend home.  First time with him.... Very good guy.   

....this is where everything changed......

He gets a call on his iphone while en route home. He answers it.... facetime... So I get to hear! (Yeah!)  It is his 9 year old daughter who lives in another state with her Mom....yeah, they split a while back.

They begin the most simple but beautiful exchange through this incredible technology.  She is full of little girl energy....the kind that can't seem to get all the words out fast enough... she asks a bunch of questions which he methodically and patiently answers...  She asks him if she has shown him her new school back pack?  No.... so she makes sure he sees it.  She notices that it is still "light" outside and exclaims that is so cool because where she lives it is all dark!  She giggles at that.... so fun.  She has this totally fun voice that was so articulate and cute.

Then she goes:  "Hey Dad, have you seen my violin?"  "No...show me!"  She pulls it out and then says she is going to play for him so he can hear.  She warns him that it might not sound so great cause she is just beginning....  He tells her that is ok.  She starts playing a couple of scales and then stops.  It doesn't sound too bad after all... He asks her what song that was.... She laughs  "oh Dad!, That isn't a song silly."  He tells her it sounds beautiful!  That he cannot wait until she plays many songs that he can listen to.   She then goes into showing him the resin that she uses for the bow and explains it in detail, why it looks the way it does, what it is supposed to do etc...." Like a little technician explaining something very technically important.

He asks her if it is bedtime....she announces that it isn't, but that she is cleaning her room before bed.  He tells her that he will call in just a few minutes as we were arriving home.

She tells him "sure"  and then ends with a very upbeat "Love you Dad!"   He acknowledges back and ends the call.....Then tells me how infrequent that actually happens..... 

During the call I found my smile... it came... it found me I guess, almost immediately....not sure from where... but somewhere during that magical phone call, the world became right again, the stars aligned, the important things were identified, things were said that needed to be said and violins that needed to play beautiful notes were played....  Most importantly that familiar lump found its way to my throat.  I felt the absolute awesome beauty of this simple exchange between a Father and his far away daughter.  Many emotions came as I put myself in his shoes.... oh!  Wow.  Knowing she was so close.... but not enough to hug that night before bed.

Let's just say this experienced lingered for me....I got home and quickly hugged everyone of my kids a little big harder and longer, as if it would count just a little bit extra for my friend and his daughter....

                      ....... yeah, pretty great day....




Thursday, September 4, 2014

Doce Amargo....

I am not sure why.......but for some reason ever since I was like 10 years old I found that I had an attraction to twist endings to stories.  Sometimes they were tragic, often full of irony sometimes just bittersweet.  In Portuguese the term is "Doce Amargo". 







irony: "incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs"




I remember first being aware of this when I per chance came across  a book in our family library called "O'Henry's Short Stories". I was in 5th or 6th grade in Jakarta Indonesia.... Let's just say there wasn't a lot of "Must See TV" programming there....leaving loads of time for incredible reading journeys.  O' Henry certainly took me on a number of fantastical ones.... I remember his were the first stories ever that caused so much post-reading reflection.  I couldn't help try and wrap my head around the most interesting ironic twists he weaved into his tapestry of storytelling.  I was 'woven' in with the best of them.... I was an instant fan.

The first short story I read was "The Ransom of Red Chief. It made me laugh. It was good enough to keep me reading more until I eventually read all the stories in the whole book. The stories that stood out were "The Gift of the Magi, "The Last Leaf" and the "The Cop and the Anthem".

These simple but amazing well written stories introduced me to everyday social scenes where very normal people experienced tragedy, humor and happiness sometimes all at once but in profound ways that made my heart feel things I had never felt before as a kid.  O' Henry had a way of "compelling"' me to empathize with the characters way before I ever knew what "empathy" meant --I remember often I would stop in the middle of reading, put the book on my chest and then dreamily play out in my minds eye, how each character would react to, feel and deal with the ironic idiosyncrasies they experienced. It was odd in a way, but I found great interest in evaluating my own response to it. It was an important development stage for me to realize that real "human stories" didn't always have to end with "happily ever after", rather that happiness could co-exist with bits of tragedy, loss or .... with bittersweet irony......Even though I didn't have much of life's experience, I knew somehow that these endings were more "real" than most of the others I had read. They dented me like an old dinged car that could tell a lifetime of stories of roads traveled.    I loved what they did to me.....

"The Gift of the Magi" marked me in particular. The story was written so well and the surprise twist ending left me almost physically breathless--(I know, weird for a 10 year old) but it happened nonetheless. It was my introduction to "IRONY". I didn't know what the word meant, but I became quite familiar with it's application after O' Henry had his way with me.... How he emotionally drew me in to the depth of his characters love and how so ironically it played out in the end was wonderful, but dug at me at the same time. ....It wasn't fair!! They deserved better because their love and sacrifice was pure!! So, I remember keenly experiencing opposing feelings of sadness while at the same time marveling at the irony and how the tragedy of their actions actually reinforced their love for one another! The two main characters may not have ever truly known just how much they loved one another had they not both sold what the other needed. Amazing!.....and he never really had to use sarcasm to make his point.  I felt the immediate conflict of joy and exasperation at the exact same time... the idea that I could not reconcile both left  me restless but sated.  So weird, so unusual...yet so fulfilling at the same time.

Wish I could explain it better for you....

As my life....continued to meander through the years I kept this feeling close and nurtured it with greek tragedies, various foreign films and tragic European romances... I found I continually sought after and felt a closeness to these themes.  I went way beyond O'Henry as each new country I was exposed to offered its' own particular brand of "doce amargo" storytelling.  Every culture has it I learned.  These are universal themes.

So what?  What is the learning here?  
                                                       Good question....  

Here was one example of how things played out that helped me appreciate something that I normally would not have:

Back when I was single and dating. I had set my eye on a girl.  I  "carefully" crafted a series of plans that would introduce me to her without being too awkward.  The 'door approach' worked.  This opened up the door for several short but frequent conversations that ultimately led to me asking her out. We had 1 short sweet non-eventful date.

Weeks later I called her and asked her out again..... I was not prepared for her response, but it had profound affect on me. She said:

"Aaron, I need to tell you that I am not interested in dating you......"

Commercial Break:  You know how in movies there are those sequences that take the form of a super slo-motion-psychodelic-drug induced kaleidoscopish dreamy thing where everything is spinning helplessly out of control..?? Like someone totally tripping out?

Ok, well that started happening to me...., it was surreal....I fumbled for a something to say, but I was caught so off guard that I was speechless.  The way that she delivered that message to me was so honest, so authentic, no games, no umming or ahhing, so perfectly delivered that it simply robbed me of any quick comeback, retort, or even any response at all...... There is a wonderful metaphor that applies here: "Nailing the coffin shut". Basically, all I could actually say, was:

 "Ok....I understand, thanks for being honest with me." and it was over.....she was nice, polite, respectful and pulled the weed out by the root, no chance for any recourse, or any possible growth later... Simple, but effective.........and oh so lethal!

My first emotional response after the initial shock was "Wow am I stupid."   My first rejection. I immediately had more empathy for all other "rejectees". Wow, it really hurt! As I let myself go through the normal "I am such an idiot" process I was somehow able at the same time to realize just what an amazing thing she was able to do.

How many times do we let ourselves fall into that nasty slippery false slope of :

"I don't want to date, I just want to be friends" 

which almost always ends up meaning absolutely nothing but rather fueling a prolonged wishing, hoping and dreaming of a hopeful happy ending by one of the parties....

To the girl it means "It is done, it is over, leave me beast with the least amount of communication possible"

To the guy it means "So, you are saying there is a chance?!!!" (Jim Carey in "Dumb and Dumber). But in my case, the only way I could take it was the same way she meant it, it was "over". The more I marveled at how she did it I found a new respect for her. In fact, I actually appreciated the fact that we both didn't have to spend unnecessary time and effort working towards something that wasn't going to work. It was a bittersweet illumination for me.... liked it although it didn't taste all that great.  Ironic...


As I examine my life, there are things that I coulda, shoulda, wish I wouda for sure....But I like to think of them more as 'doce amargo' moments--trade offs. Sometimes giving something good up......for something better. Sometimes the "better" doce part doesn't show up for awhile, but it always does seem to arrive, even if on its own timetable.  Other times the more bitter 'amargo' part would actually be welcomed.


The times I have experienced bittersweet feelings the most have been with friends. Growing up overseas, always making new friends, then always knowing there would be the inevitable....."leaving" as well.  I grew up with terrible "longings" or "saudades" for friends that I had made and left, knowing that for most, I would never see them again--ever. It caused me great pain as a youth, but in time I learned to appreciate both the newness of the new land and the departure of a place already experienced.  I wouldn't trade all the bittersweet feelings I have had a lifetime of for all the incredible friends that I have had to say goodbye to.....


“Love is a hidden fire, A pleasant sore, A delicious poison, A delectable pain, An agreeable torment, A sweet and throbbing wound, A gentle death.” - Fernando de Pujas






Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Regret Bites

I have been resisting sharing this post for a while.  I did one of those dumb Dad mistakes which I really regret.

Lexi over here on the left has grown up to be quite the incredible little red haired lady.  She is 14 going on 30.  She knows exactly who she is ("Know Thyself" ), what she wants, who she is going to marry, how much money she is going to have, the kind of car, what her job/career will be and what her husband will be doing in his career... get the drift?  She is sassy pants and very funny and has acquired a healthy sense of self-assuredness.  The kind I certainly didn't have growing up and even envy now.

She has grown up playing soccer in the shadows of her 3 older siblings who all have played competitively and at a pretty high level.  While she hasn't been the 'soccer animal' that some are, she has been that steady, consistent and never misses-a-practice-or-game kind of player.  

Her two older brothers and older sister have all made the High School soccer team as Freshman which is a considerable accomplishment.  All of them most likely will end playing 4 years.  Lexi is a Freshman this fall......So, the topic of High School Soccer girls tryouts came up earlier this Spring.  Mom was getting Lexi all prepped for the idea of it all.  She began coaching her on what she needed to do etc.... meanwhile,  Dad was wrinkling his forehead, being quiet, and not really being on the same page about her prospects and began second guessing Mom's abundant enthusiasm......

As I saw the time for tryouts get closer, I decided the time had come to 'prune' the conversation and expectations down a notch.  I began to slip in little quips like "Listen Lexi, you know just trying out for the team is like winning!"  or  "You are very small, and this is a different level of competition, so just remember that..."  and "How would you feel if you didn't make it this first time round?"  etc.., etc... etc.....

The bottom line was I really didn't think she would make it.  I mean after all, I did live in Brazil, the land of Pele which basically makes me an automatic subject matter expert on the sport.  And it was now my rightful duty as Dad to manage her expectations for her....Oh how the self-justification felt so good.....then.

First there was a month of intense training.  She made it through all the training sessions.  I was  surprised!  This was then followed up with 2 days of actual tryouts.  The first day came.... I got home and asked McKenna how Lexi did: "Fantastic!" she said.... I was like "What??, How??"  "What do you mean?"  She went on:  "She was awesome... she played so well the coaches were commenting on her performance." It wasn't computing for me..... "Be more specific"  "ok... well she did this cool maneuver and dribbled past a defender and went down the line and then crossed the ball to center..."  Me:  "She has never done that before right?"  McKenna: "Right, but she did it today and she killed it!"    Oh no!..... I was in big trouble.  You know that that very bad feeling when you do something wrong in the pit of your stomach ?... yeah, that icky sick lump of horribleness that starts to gnaw at your  soul ?  Well it began for me.....

Lexi walked in the door.... I braced myself for a long series of sarcastic in-my-face comebacks and smack talking.   I waited, she was normal and didn't say anything.... So I finally asked her how she did:  "Good."  She wouldn't even look at me as she confidently brushed by me.... "McKenna told me how great you did, that is so awesome!  Good job!"   her:  "Yup" as it to say: "Tell me something I don't already know...."    One day passed, then another.... she never did her normal "in your face" or "See Dad, you were WRONG!" kind of stuff which she usually relishes in doing....Now she wasn't and it sucked big time... I felt very out-of-the-house.  (*I don't know what that means but that is what I felt).   I finally had to face the music and tell her how wrong I was.  I felt horrible and hoped that she would forgive me. I felt so much shame.

What kind of Dad doesn't cheer her kid on!  Wow....big disappointing moment for me.  It doesn't even sound like me.... but it was me.  It was a jagged pill that I hated swallowing but as I did I was reminded of something my Dad shared with me so so many years ago.  I was thankful for it.  It gave me the perspective I had lost.  You have probably seen this......it affected me deeply then as a 15 year old and I needed it to again now 35 years later.


The Cast
I lost the starring part in Our Town
To Linda, a girl not half as good as me,
Who kept her eyes down
For the whole tryout, and even stuttered.
When the cast was posted
And the high school drama coach
Saw me reading it through my tears,
He put an arm around me and said,
“Now, look—things are not always as they appear.
This is not Broadway;
It’s an educational institution.
We’re here for two reasons—to put on a show,
And, more important, to help people grow.
Someday you’ll see.”
So Linda played Emily,
And she didn’t even stutter.
And I was Third Woman at the Wedding,
Watching and wondering how he knew
What she could really do
If she had the chance.
Since then I have guessed that God,
Being a whole lot smarter
Than my high school drama coach, might be offstage sometimes
With an arm around a questioning cast:
“Now, don’t try to outguess me.
Sometimes the first shall be last
And the last shall be first,
And I’ve got my own reasons.
I need some strong ones to star
And some strong ones to stand back.
And I’m going to put out front
Some you might not choose,
But you’ll see what they can really do
When they have the chance.
Mortality is an educational institution.
We’ve got to put on the show,
And, too, we’ve got to help people grow.”
As I walk through the scenes,
Watch the costumes move,
And listen to the lines
Of the powerful, the weak,
The rich, the poor,
I look at the leads with less awe than most,
And at the spear-carriers with more.

So, I have been watching Lexi's games.  She is awesome.  She has totally stepped up and grown so much in just a few short weeks.  Literally right before my eyes.  Her teammates love her and cheer her on like you cannot believe.    

Hah! I say to you Aaron Brown...  maybe you should leave things in God's hands a little bit more and stop thinking your brain is so dang smart.  

At the end of the day, I am just so grateful for a forgiving daughter who quietly taught me such a valuable lesson and for not hanging on to any bad feelings when she probably deserved to.



Lexi, you perservered, you overcame, you climbed the mountain and you yelled:  "I DID IT!!" you have won the day because of it...Keep on sailing and never doubt your heart!  I wont' ever again...