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Wednesday, April 30, 2014

If I Could Start Again Today


If I Could Start Again Today
 (click for video)















All the kings and queens in the bible
They could not turn back time
So what chance have I of a miracle
In this life of mine?
I only want one day
To unsay the things I said
Undo the thing I did
Twenty-four little hours
Oh God, please wipe them all away
And I promise I will change
If I could start today again

I know I'm not the milk and honey kind
Today I proved it true
When the red mist falls around my eyes
I know not what I do
Please give me back today
And I won't say the things I said
Or do that thing I did
Every minute, every hour
The replay's just the same
And I can't stand the pain
Oh let me start today again

I only want one day
One lousy day, that's all
Of every day that's been before
Since time began
I know my prayer's in vain
But for a second I'll pretend
That I can start today again

AB:  I know cannot have that particular one day again....I know I am also supposed to move on and look forward.  Sometimes the melancholy just comes regardless, so thick that it envelopes me  and I swim in it for a while.....often too long.  I play the "what if" game as if that will somehow let me rewind the tape and do it right in my mind's eye.....  I would like to think that I would have been smart enough to have not messed up "that" one day, month or year.....but that is the "human" cloth I am woven of....bound to make mistakes,  unwittingly determined to let others down, and inherently designed to cause pain.... the pull to self-loathing is so strong--like a rip current pulling one back to the sea.

Somehow, there is a way to move on and look forward.... to replace yesterday with a new day.  A new day to let me apply what I have learned and literally "start again". To mend, to heal, to forgive,.... I know this is true.  I believe in the miracle of what a new day can bring. 

                                                                      It's just that for now......I want to swim for a bit.

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Landon's Joy

10 months into Landon being gone serving as a missionary in Edmonton, Canada I continue to struggle to find the right words to describe the joy I feel, because of the joy that Landon is experiencing.  His experiences thus far shatter all my expectations by a mile.  I was hoping for a positive experience that would help him grow and stretch by learning to work hard, solidifying his knowledge of the the doctrines of his faith, and above all else help find those in need that could benefit from learning about Jesus and His gospel.  He not only has done all of the above, but has embarked on an intense journey of personal discovery that has drawn him very close to His Savior and has caused deep and penetrating reflection that has left me realizing I am the "student" and he the "teacher."  I know I cannot share enough context  to allow any casual reader to understand what this has truly meant to him, his siblings, to me and his mother. 

He is in the proverbial "zone".  That place that is not often found, so difficult to illustrate with words and really can only be experienced while there.  Even though I also served a mission and can easily empathize with 90% of what he goes through on a day to day basis, there is this very special 10% that is reserved for those that have somehow in life acquired the taste and unquenchable thirst for knowledge--to learn by completely devoting 100% of ones soul into that "thing" that is to be studied, pondered and learned.  I would even say there have been a few times where I actually felt that he was in a "spiritual pain" because being in the zone was so good that he could finally see that he needed more and couldn't get more....it hurt because he couldn't ingest fast enough.    This just blows my mind.  If I am honest with myself, I am not even sure if I have ever been in that zone.  I believe I have come close and maybe dipped my toe in the water.  Landon has jumped in feet first, proactively seeking what it is he needs to learn.

This past week he had the blessing of being asked by this good man, named Aaron  (ha!  He must be awesome!!  :  ) to be baptized.  This actually wasn't the main thing Landon shared with us. It was what the baptism meant to him symbolically and spiritually.  I share just a bit of what he said because I love the feeling I get when I read his words and it excites me to want to be in the 'learning mode" with him.  Here are some of his reflections regarding "Forgiveness":
It was so special to have a baptism on Easter weekend, and it was very symbolic to me of new starts and clean beginnings. So cool to know that we can always have those, whenever we are willing to give our hearts to Christ.... but it is especially powerful around Easter.

I have continued to read some of the books you sent me Mom, and I am loving "The Peacegiver" .... the story of David on his way to Carmel and the intervention of Abigail has been a pretty incredibly powerful story for me to relate to. I have always struggled with forgiveness and the process of forgiving..... and have always seen it as a way to get back at others by withholding my forgiveness...... I mean honestly, I don't think I'm doing that in the moment, but when I analyze myself fairly that is what I have found..... it hurts.... but you have to start at the bottom.  I have learned to see it more as forgiving Christ and seeing that forgiveness is really for the one who forgives. It has been important for me to realize that Christ is standing in between me and the person I am forgiving to realize just how that process works.  Just powerful stuff.

As a family, we have begun studying the miracles of Christ each week during Family Home Evening.  We have covered His first two miracles.  We read them in the Bible then we look online and in books for other context to uncover the great lessons that have deeper meaning and application than just the face value of the story/parable.  We have really learned some amazing things and we have been sharing this with Landon.

He says:

I love hearing about the details you are pulling out of the miracles of Christ with the family recently... those are awesome for me to hear. Keep telling me the details of what you learn, cuz I am right in this with you : )  And I'm starving for application! : ).....
There are similarities in all of the miracles...... they all preach to notice Christ is there, to recognize He is the way to change, repent and experience the change that must occur, and then experience the immediate healing of Christ. Then we continue on following in His ways till the day we die. It is simple, powerful, and meaningful. 

And just to close this post today, some more of his incredible journey:

Well Dad, if there is anything I would want you to know is that I am just throwing myself at it right now.  I may not be the best missionary, the most eloquent, the most skilled, the most talented etc,.... but you know how I get when I'm in the zone and want to accomplish something. Like school, or my band thing, etc...... and that's my attitude towards missionary work right now. I'm passionate about it and driven..... there will always be ruts I'll fall into from time to time, but for right now I'm flying, and all I can do is control the here and now right? So that's what's important.

Can you imagine what happens to my heart when this Dad reads these kinds of things?   It is a new kind of joy that I have never experienced. I am SO grateful for how he has awakened me and inspired me to reach a bit higher in my life.  At a time when I so need to better understand Christ myself, he has helped me turn my thoughts and heart towards Him.  I hope that I can even taste a teaspoon full of what he is inhaling right now.    Thank you Elder Brown, 

                                             ............may you never stop soaring

Thursday, April 17, 2014

DIY = Overrated

So, I actually think it is documented in several countries that I am the most mechanically challenged dude in the world.  I become paralyzed with fear when I receive texts such as:  "Toilet is leaking", "Dryer is making a funny noise", or my favorite..."The basement is flooded with sewage water".  My heart actually stops, I begin to panic and my mind shuts down faster than a scalded dog.  
I am not sure why, but it is true.....horribly true.  It doesn't really make sense as my Dad was extremely handy and so is Paul my older brother.  I come from solid stock of pioneers, farmers, ranchers and do-it-yourselfers.  Most of my uncles and cousins have built homes....while I on the other hand have successfully pumped gas into my vehicle more than once, refilled the window wiper reservoir with weird blue water and I have put coins in a machine that spins columns of cloth that magically somehow washes the car while I am in it!!  (*a couple of sidenotes on the weird blue water thing:
One - I actually had to learn how to pop the hood, open it and successfully navigate the bar to its proper location to keep the hood up.  Amazing!
Two - It is probably a miracle that I  never actually "sipped' the blue water right from the container like I have done many times with milk.....Tempting though!)
 
I am convinced after many many years of horrific repair attempts and DIY disasters that maybe my sole purpose and life and existence has been to singlehandedly keep the economy afloat by fixing things by check book.  So... I am good at somethings.
 
Early on I knew I was in trouble with my first major project:  A brand new garage door opener.  I remember carefully taking every part into the living room floor and staging all pieces together to get a visual of how it would really look.  I would then gaze in wonder thinking "I wonder how all of those shiny parts are going to get into the garage ceiling, connect to the garage door and then magically open by clicking on a button."  I "studied" all of it for about 30 days before I even dared to take the parts into the garage itself.  I think it took another 30 days to mess it up well enough to have to call a professional....Oh and needless to say I finally learned what the term "losing your religion" really meant.

You see when I see the photo above I actually don't see anything wrong... in fact, my first thought is to congratulate the dude who was so dang thrifty and smart to come up with such a brilliant idea.  My second thought is "How come I didn't think of that!" 
 
Got the picture?  Pathetic I know.

This very elaborate setup is important for the next part of the story.  I certainly hope you are sitting down and you might want to hold onto something solid....... 
 
So I got a text recently that said "Dishwasher isn't working"  I swallowed hard, waited a few moments for the tears to stop and pulled myself together.  This time was going to be different by golly.  If it took me 2 months I was going to do it this time.  I said a prayer and started googling like crazy.   The Youtube video suggested that I turn off the circuit breaker.....Huh??  what is that I wondered.....Never had I turned one of those off before.  I wondered what that funny box was with all those black switches.  Then I unplugged the unit....right, I never do that either....then I removed  all the screws with the wrong tool and decided to put them in a baggie....hah brilliant.  I was on a roll.....I then did look at all the wires going all over the place and pretended to makes sense of them.  I became dazed quickly and went and got a snack to recover and refuel.  I had done about 3 things that I normally never do, so this was like going for the Gold!  I would definitely need to pace myself......

I then did something else I never do... I called a friend to help me!  Woah.  He came over and had fancy tools and electrical measuring devices which immediately dazzled me.  We found the bad part.  "A hah" I said, we did it!  Then he said, "you gotta go find the part and then put it in, make sure the wires aren't crossed and then put the panel back on, plug the unit in and flip the breaker back on......."  He might as well have been speaking pig latin because all I heard was "Blah bla blah, bla blah...."  In my stupor I found myself nodding my head and he went away......I didn't start crying right away, I did have enough in the tank to wait until he left.... then I pounded the walls asking heaven ward "Why me!??"  "Why me?"  What great sin had I done to deserve this.  How on earth was I supposed to even remember what he said much less do it.
 
 I then did something else I had never done before.... I wrote stuff down on paper, and then I looked up the part number of the fuse online and found places that sold it! My pulse began to quicken..... I called numbers and people answered and said they had the part!  My heart sank "Oh no", now I would have to actually go get it and then do something with it.  I brought home the shiny package with the part in it.  I opened it carefully and placed it on the kitchen counter and did what I do best.... I looked at it for a very long time.  Then magically, my inner man kicked my butt and told me to stand up and pick up the part and start putting things back together.  I did, step by scary step I did.  I attached an electronic part with wires that went into stuff and I put all the screws back on the panel, I flipped the breaker  (*That sounds cool btw) and plugged the unit in and then I was scared to death to even try it!!!! Holy crap, no way was I going to jinx the sucker by actually turning it on!!  But,  a text came through from my buddy: "Did it work?" "Crap" A thousand lies came to me and I began sorting through the ones that might work best.....but then deep inside, the new guy started bugging me again... "Come on, turn the thing on!"  There was no turning back now, I was committed like never before.... I had replaced a real part with my own hands.... it was like doing surgery on a patient but now I didn't really want to know the result.... I finally did it.  
 
I closed my eyes and pushed the "Clean" button.... 

Aleluiah, ...... Aleluiah, ..........Aleluiah

The Heaven's opened, bright lights shone down, and choirs of angels were singing praises.  It worked. I actually didn't really believe it at first.  "Nah, couldn't be"  "This is ME".  Somehow, someway, the stars aligned and the time space continuum was altered forever.  It worked.  I didn't know what to do with myself.  I immediately told the kids.... they didn't believe me.  I thought about posting on FB and LinkedIn!  I wanted to text almost everyone I knew and I entertained the thought of calling The Davis County Clipper for a column piece......  I remember practicing my script for when Chelta would ask me how things were going.... Oh man, oh yeah... this was going to be so sweet!  I rehearsed well.  The text came, I decided to play big-hunky-deep-voice-man-of-few-words.  "Done"  I replied.  "Really?"  "Oh yeah, gotter done"  My head was getting very big right now.  I even started to wonder what she might surprise me with when she got home ..... (wink wink nod nod)  "Wow Honey, that is great!"  "Oh yeah, you can say that again" as my voice got deeper and hunkier....."When are you coming home?" I asked....  "Oh, not for a while but good job!".     Nice I thought.  As I gathered my tools (more than I needed....you know just in case) and listened to the diswasher purr like a kitten I felt this warm glow of manliness inside...."So this is what that feels like?"   Cool.....

As I strutted down the hall I felt the buzz of another text.....I thought, "Oh yeah, one more coming my way"   The text said:

"Did I tell you the oven isn't working??"

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Third Culture Kid ..... finding "Home"




I just checked....it's true, I have not written a post dedicated to the one thing that really inspired me to begin a blog 5 years ago.  I have made reference to it, but not a single solitary blog post dedicated at all to TCK...  If only you knew what this really means to me.... it will be hard to describe, a lot like my post "Saudade"

But it deserves so much credit that I will take a shot at it...

Let's begin with the Cliff notes version:

I grew up overseas.  Born in nowhere AZ, somehow my father got his first foreign service gig to the very "exciting" metropolis of Tehran, Iran then quickly moved to Baghdad Iraq, family got evacuated, moved on to another "safe and comfy" location: Bogota Colombia, then off to Jakarta Indonesia, back to Brasilia, Brazil, up to Monterrey Mexico with a couple of required stints in Virginia/D.C. sandwiched in between.

My life was a series of adventures and was absolutely an incredible experience.  An unbelievable life.  So deep, so wide, so rich, so rewarding.  I knew nothing else.  I became familiar with change in a way that actually changed me forever.... 

Change became a normal way of life for me.  It didn't just come my way once a year. It became a daily gig, meeting new people, running into new smells, learning new words, absorbing a never ending supply of cultural nuances with every step....Change found a hungry and thirsty vessel and wrapped its tendrils all over me.....I welcomed it....I never resisted....It gave me new eyes.  

Was there downside? Oh yeah!.... leaving friends was the jagged pill that was the hardest to swallow.  Saying goodbye almost always meant forever to a kid. 

As a result, the notion of "home" was confusing to me.  It was unanswerable and always required a longer preface than people wanted to hear, or were willing to understand that asked where mine was.  To me it was never a location, but an emotion....often it was more about "when", than "where".

Eventually, the inevitable finally happens... I return to my passport country....yes, even the good 'ol USA!  I have wondered all my life what that would be like. Not the quick vacation return knowing that I would be leaving again....but the "final" return.  The Soldier coming home.    

My expectations were through the roof.  I had so many idealist notions of what Americans would be.  How they would accept me.  How they would love the experiences I had.  How they would appreciate my unique perspective.  That they would embrace me as one of their own.  America, land of the free and brave.....Oh yeah, my hand was all over my heart.  And then to top it off, finally.....to have Mormon friends!  To also return to Utah, the mecca of Mormonism..Ah!  To be among those that were like minded, lived the same values, believed the same things....to have friends that would shine for me, to be beacons of examples of really living my faith.  To learn the tenets of my faith first hand by going to church in my own language.  Oh, the expectations were monumental.

Oh, the naiveté of a 17 year old dreamer.  What I found upon my return was  the most challenging time of my life.  Never had I felt so much shock, disillusionment and confusion.  I ran smack dab into a huge cultural brick wall that had sharp edges all over it, and it hurt like crazy.  So this is what people always referred to as --"Culture Shock".  I had never experienced because I never knew the U.S.  Moving from culture to culture was my way of life, it was cool, it was exciting, it was full of adventure.  This was not that!

People did not embrace me.  They didn't have an ounce of understanding of my experience.  They did not accept me for who I was.  I didn't fit in in the least.  My hair and clothes were all wrong.  Noone related to me and I couldn't them.  The Youth at church were not stellar examples.... they did not meet my expectations at all.... They were cliquish, they were two-faced and in many cases not great examples of living the beliefs I thought were in my faith.... In other words they were "normal" human beings..... oh my.... that was disappointing!  My attitudes were not welcome, no one was interested in the weird foreign "new" guy and within weeks I found myself naturally gravitating to all the other social "rejects" which happened to be minorities and non-church members.  Americans did not realize the wonderful bounty and blessings they had to be in a country that had so much freedom and choice.   Noone knew how cool it was to go to a store where you could literally choose from 20 different toilet seat lids..... Wow! People would complain about the most mudane things that other countries could only dream of ever having.  The ignorance of other people, culture and beliefs was astounding. I found myself having feelings of embarrassment for them. How could they be so "globally dumb" and "culturally moronic"?  There wasn't even a desire to learn about others.  For the first time being ironically in a position of being intolerant and judgmental about a group of people...in this case Mormon Americans.

This is what is supposed to happen when I lived in all those other places...not here in the U.S.A!!!  I was numb for a long time, then it turned into pain and a considerable amount of anger.  I struggled mightily with not knowing exactly what was happening to me.  Managing this dynamic was completely foreign to me.  When months passed and anger dissipated into a dull ache in my heart I ended up doing what I did in every new place... I figured out a way to be a chameleon.  A change artist.  One more time, I donned the eyewear that always helped me in the past.....and I adapted to the environment as best I could.....I put away the hurt feelings and anger.  I tried to accept them for who they were and started to try and see things from their perspective. The only exception this time was that I would never leave the US again, so the prospects of enduring for the short-term weren't the same anymore.  This was permanent.  So, I pretended, I acted, thinking that over time things would work out. Meanwhile, there was a constant uneasy feeling lurking in the shadows letting me know that I wasn't really ok.  I was putting on a good show.  I put a lot of frustration, loneliness and hurt on the shelf because I didn't know how to deal with it all.....

Fast forward 30 years....  Mission, College, marriage, family and now career. All of these "repatriation" issues were far behind me.....water under the bridge you could say..... so I thought.  Then one day about 5 years ago, I accidentally came across this acronym TCK.  It was a reference to "Third Culture Kid". I was intrigued.  I went searching and found this website that explained what a  TCK (Click to see) was:


"A Third Culture Kid (TCK) is a person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside the parents' culture.  The TCK frequently builds relationships to all of the cultures, while not having full ownership in any.  Although elements from each culture may be assimilated into the TCK's life experience, the sense of belonging is in relationship to others of similar background."
    This totally got my immediate attention!  Who wrote this and how do they know me so well?? I read on......"You know you are a TCK when:"

    1. You don’t know what “home" is.... You call it “passport country.”

    2. You often find yourself singing along to songs in languages you don’t speak or understand.

    3. You can curse convincingly in at least five different languages.

    4. The end of the school year was always bittersweet because so many people moved away.

    5. To everyone’s confusion, your accent changes depending on who you’re talking to.

    6. And you often slip foreign slang into your English by mistake, which makes you unintelligible to most people.

    7. Your passport looks like it’s been through hell and back.

    8. You have a love-hate relationship with the question “Where are you from?”

    9. You’ve spent an absurd and probably unhealthy amount of time on airplanes.

    10. Your list of significant others’ nationalities reads like a soccer World Cup bracket.

    13. And your circle of best friends is as politically, racially, and religiously diverse as the United Nations

    15. So when you do see your best friends, you lose it a little.

    16. You’ve had the most rigorous sensitivity training of all: real life.

    18. You know that McDonald’s tastes drastically different from country to country.

    24. You’re the token exotic friend in your non-TCK crew.

    27. And, no matter how many you say, good-byes never get easier.

    28. But the constant flow of new friends more than made up for it.

    29. Now you feel incredibly lucky to have loved ones and memories scattered all over the globe.

    30. You know better than anyone else that “home” isn’t a place, it’s the people in it

    31. And you can’t wait to see where your life adventure takes you next.


    My mind exploded.... My heart was pumping a thousand beats per second, I was sweating and tears just sprang from my eyes!!!  This list literally blew my mind.  I felt so immediately understood I could barely speak. For the first time in 30 years the doors of that shelf of pain I had locked away was blown apart and all these bottled up emotions poured out of me for several hours.  

    Then I found the "community" of other TCK's sharing their experiences and  So many people had the same experiences I had.  The empathy was deep..... I was so overcome.  I remembered who I was..... it was very much like finding "home".   I wasn't crazy after all.  Someone out there knew exactly what I had gone through.   That was amazing.

    More factoids:

  • 90% feel "out of sync" with their peers.

  • 90% report feeling as if they understand other cultures/peoples better than the average American.

  • 80% believe they can get along with anybody, and they often do due to their capability to adapt to situations, and people of different culture, ethnic and religious backgrounds.

  • Divorce rates among TCKs are lower than the general population, but they marry older (25+). (Me almost 26)

  • Usually they find themselves being referred to as 'foreigners' by their own relatives residing back in the country of their origin.

  • They also sometimes know more history, geography, literary and cultural values than the locals of the both countries.

.....after a childhood spent in other cultures, adjusting to their passport country often takes years.


It was the single most therapeutic, carthatic, emotional experience in the past several years of my life.  I couldn't believe that there was a vocabulary associated with this phenomenon.  A book was written.  People had come together  and created a built in coping and sharing mechanism. I was immediately embraced by a community that accepted me for who I was.  What a beautiful tender mercy in my life.  I realized then, that I needed to share more of my experiences, my perspective, my musings somehow. Thus, the blog.

So, I have a deep sense of gratitude that is difficult to put into words for the TCK community.  They have been instrumental in helping me find "home" cause everyone deserves that...


Postlude:  I love being American.  I love being Mormon.  I know now that I was the one in error.  People are people.  The expectations I had built up in my own mind no one on earth could have ever sufficiently met.  My mental model was doomed from the beginning.  Do I wish Americans were a bit more culturally sensitive and had greater understanding of their freedoms?  Sure.  Do I wish Mormons lived their faith perfectly?  Sure. Both aren't perfect.  In my mind at that time in my youth, I needed both to be perfect so they could "save" me--at least validate that I was ok, good enough.  I realize I have to find that out on my own, not through them.  Only God can help me with that one.  So I love both and have reset my expectations to the dial of "freely accept" all for who they are.

..........The Home piece is still elusive....I am getting closer.  I feel it here and there and is usually associated with particular people.  They know who they are.  My sense is that at the end of the day, the only true home is the one I came from.  That is the one that matters.  I carry great hope that it will be the final place where I am totally welcome, loved, feel totally comfortable and know exactly who I am.

Monday, February 17, 2014

Gethsemane

I received the BYU Alumni magazine for Feb. the other day and this painting was on the cover. It immediately caught my attention. I recognized the scene immediately although I had never seen the actual painting before in my life. I was caught off guard at the powerful emotion I felt and found myself blinking back tears. Only a few other paintings have had that affect on me.

It is by Carl Bloch, a Danish painter. a painter who has done dozens of paintings that my Church has used in many of its publications throughout the years... Many I have grown up with since childhood, but this one is different.  For me, the most magnificent of all of them and I only saw it 3 days ago.

I have seen many paintings depicting Jesus' atonement in the Garden of Gethsemane.  But none like this one.....Never have I seen one with a comforting angel as this one....one with such authenticity and empathy emanating in His behalf.  Never have I seen the profound physical closeness of someone with the Savior as this angel is.  Jesus' arm around the knee is the centerpiece for me. It somehow illustrates that Jesus, felt the burden to such a degree that he needed a special kind of support... The Heavenly kind, the kind that he could actually rely upon because there was nothing in this world that could have provided him to count on for this unique and distinctively special experience.

Then angel's knee.....it shows support....but not "too much"....rather just "enough", but does not take the burden away.... the Angel's hand on Jesus' arm further suggests closeness, but its' touch is jut light enough so as to not interfere, distract or impede what must shortly come to pass by Jesus alone.  The curve of the Angel's head resting upon Jesus' is extraordinary as well.

Can you imagine getting that assignment?  Of all the important milestones in all of God's creations I cannot fathom being the one, invited to attend the Son of God during His agony in Gethsemane so he could offer the Atonement, the single most important event that has ever taken place.  Can you imagine the look in Heavenly Father's eyes, imploring the angel to convey all the Love possible from the Father.  What an unreal thing to consider.  Surely, this angel was endowed with special gifts and power to be able to provide the perfect amount of comfort.  Probably no words were uttered, which this painting suggests.... We do know there was an angel.  This is exactly how I will choose to believe it happened.  Nothing else comes close.  I am so grateful for this image and how it affected me.  I pray it will linger for a long time.  I need it to...

Gethsemane, transliteration of Aramaic. "Gat-Shemanim" which means 'oil press' or the crushing place. It brings particular irony and fitting context as it is also the garden where the Agony of Jesus took place.
 And he was withdrawn from them about a stone’s cast, and kneeled down, and prayed, Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done. And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.

                                                                                                  ---  St. Luke 22:41-44

Monday, February 3, 2014

Thoughts of Roland....


I admit that since my brother Roland passed I have not taken the time to really process everything that happened.  Many impressions and feelings have been swirling around around my mind, but I haven't anchored any of them to paper......So, I take a moment to pause, look back....learn and see where that leaves me....

What triggered this post finally was seeing this absolutely stunning photo of Roland's 3 girls on FB.  It immediately gave me chills and I felt that familiar lump rise quickly into my throat.  I knew instantly that I would not be able to escape feeling a full dose of emotion that would inevitably come--and boy did it!  I needed this so much.....

What struck me was the thought that anyone seeing this photo would not believe that these 3 had just lost their Dad weeks earlier.  They would say  "No, absolutely not, No way possible"  Look at them, their faces, the light pouring out of their countenances.... they are not just smiling...oh no.... their spirits are soaring, they are glowing.  Everything about them says:  


Dad, we know where you are, we know who we are and we will live with Joy...All is well....peace, be still



I put myself in Roland's shoes ....pretending  for a sec that if there were Heaven's version of "facebook" and he were granted a moment to see how everyone was doing and he came upon this picture....what would he think and feel? 

I can't imagine anything other than an incredibly large lump quickly forming in his own throat, a waterfall of emotion filling his body and a river of tears flowing from his eyes.  

The word "Pride" doesn't really even come close in this scenario....this is so beyond that.  This isn't feeling proud about a kid who finishes first in a race, gets straight A's, or does their chores without being asked.... this is about spiritual perspective, deep understanding of God and incredible faith to let go of hurt, pain and sorrow and turn their lives towards Heaven instead of withdrawing inward and fighting the demons of sorrow, regret and blame.

This isn't a picture of 3 sisters just happening to have a "good day".  This is a picture of how they have decided to live the rest of their lives despite the tragic loss of their father.  Each of them is unique, different and specialized....but they are ONE.  The unity that emanates from them is so reverent. You can feel it too can't you ?

Roland, you raised an amazing family.  Your girls are only part of your greater story. Your legacy is strong and vibrant. I honor you and I honor them.  
 "Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord."  Matthew 25:21

 I miss you like crazy....





Saturday, January 25, 2014

Precious Insights....

I learned something about Braden (15) a few days ago that I wanted to share.....I haven't asked his permission.....crossing my fingers.....

Braden is that certain type of person who decided early in life (like maybe 2) that the best way to live his life would be by doing right things quietly and consistently.  He somehow knew at a very young age that he didn't need to let the world know everything he was thinking or feeling.  He figured out that he really didn't need to know what people thought or said about him either....meaning, whatever they did have to say wouldn't influence or change him in the least.  He came here with an innate sense of self, and ability to see and process people, behavior and actions around him very quietly. One of his strengths is being "quick to observe" which in my opinion is one of those character traits that is difficult to develop much less master.  He came to understand that the most important things are those that are done in quiet, often unseen and almost always not recognized by others.  This is Braden, a fifteen year old teenager that is for all intents and purposes magnetically polarized to recognition, reward, accolades from parents, peers or "men"......Who is this guy?

He chooses his friends with deliberate scrutiny and they are all "shipworthy" souls to a fault.  He didn't need to experiment, or navigate those choppy waters of social groups.  He isn't in the popular crowd, he shies away from the jocks although plays on HS soccer team.  He loves math and science but is not a "nerd".  He isn't a goth, Emo, boarder, druggie, or rocker..... he is exactly what you see and exactly what he knows he is.  It is yes...a bit unnerving, but completely beautiful.

So, with this intro, let me share my story..... it is tiny but as big as the universe for me.

His new Church youth leader came up to me at Church the other day and said he had something to tell me about Braden.  My ears perked up faster than a doberman sensing a nearby squirrel!  Braden is like turning on a light.  You don't run home to tell Mom that there was light in the room.  You tell Mom about all the kids who misbehaved etc... in Sunday School.  Braden is always consistently present and participative, to the point you just expect exactly what he brings every time.  So, this was different.....

He said that he asked the class what would each of them do if they knew for sure that Jesus was coming like in a few weeks.  He let each of them simmer on that for a few minutes and then went around the room and earnestly asked each one what that would mean and what they would do.  One said "I would repent!" "I would be nicer to people" said another... there was "I would try and get myself ready", then there was "I don't know what I would do".  Most were about looking inward, reflective of their own standing and behavior in nature, entirely what I would expect from kids or anyone for that matter. Then came Braden's turn and he quietly and stoically said without hesitation 


"I would go tell people"......

The leader said that there was an immediate change in the ambience in the room.  It was so quietly said, but everyone noticed with their inner ears.  A different and distinctive spirit was felt.  I felt it just hearing the story.

That was it.  That was all....  so simple, so piercing and so insightful.  I was so grateful to get this precious insight from a thoughtful and caring leader.  It said so much to me beyond answering a hypothetical question.  It affirmed to me that all I thought I knew about Braden might actually still be true.  He doesn't talk about these things.  You won't get them at home.  We spend most of our time wondering and hoping if everything is good and solid when it comes to figuring him out.  What a nice moment of validation.

They say it takes a village to raise a child....I believe it.  I knew along time ago (like when the first kid was born) that I was in trouble thinking that I could do very much as a parent.  I am convinced that it is takes touches from a thousand people to shape each person. I live in a pretty cool "village" made up of very special people like this volunteer leader to spend any of his time at all helping teach and counsel my son.  I am very grateful for him, for sharing this oh so exquisite tidbit of insight into Braden's mind and heart.  

Braden, you made me think twice about how I would have answered that question.  You were the teacher and I the student and you don't even know it.....  Once again, just your way....quietly and effortlessly doing and "thinking" right things without looking for validation.....a bit of burden lifted....

How you came to our family I will never quite understand but we obviously needed you.  Thank you for choosing us and being exactly who you are.  I hope you never change.....


Thursday, January 23, 2014

Guitar Moments....


McKenna (17) had spent the long weekend "re-imagining" her room.  It was going through a much needed transformation from a pre-teen "girly" look into a very cool modern hip uptown extravaganza, so she was pretty excited and tired after painting, moving furniture, going through old stuff, making tough decisions on whether to keep clothes that she almost never wears or not...you know, hard teenage issues!

The very cool part of the day came at night when she came into the music room/den and asked me if I would play my guitar to put her to sleep.   I immediately felt a familiar quickening of the pulse, and a little jump of excitement in my heart!  Wow, it had been literally at least 4 solid years since I had done that for any of the kids.  I immediately got serious and pulled out songs from the past that I used to always play to put them all asleep at night.

The notion that this was probably one of those very precious, never-to-happen-again moments was not lost on me at all.  In fact, I knew deep inside that this could very well not happen again.  Just look at the facts:
  1. She is halfway through her Junior year  
  2. She likes boys almost more than eating
  3. She is dreaming of college already
  4. She is focused on so many other things.....almost every thought and action moves her to look forward vs. any lingering backward looks at her childhood past, including that of paying attention to parents.... 
  5. She is seriously 3 inches from becoming all grow'd up and gone...
So, all this was flashing through my mind as I tuned up old faithful, the guitar I have had since I was 19.  Yes.....cheap, classical, but comfortable and warm.....  I pulled out sheet music that I haven't played for forever.  

I turned out most of the lights.... enough to be able to glance at words and chords to keep myself straight and moving forward, because when you are lulling someone to sleep, much like a baby in a cradle, there is a certain movement....a sway......a rock that must be consistent long enough to make the lulling actually take effect...so, I needed to find that rhythm and keep it going.  

I began..... the first couple songs were ok-slash-rusty.  It took doing a few more to finally get into the right rhythm.  Then that most amazing thing happened that doesn't occur often, but when it does it is just exquisite.....  I entered into that elusive "zone", where nothing can go wrong.... the words come, the fingers know every chord, the picking hand just moves as if it has never stopped.  It all comes together, you find yourself "in" the song, gliding along, riding it like surfing a long curling wave, as if you are traveling in and on the song itself...you somehow have found a way to "weave" yourself into the words and melody and you are one with it.  It knows you and you know it.  Time stops, and there is only oneness with the music.  It is very much like finding an old friend... everything seems so familiar, as if you just saw them yesterday even if 20 years have actually passed....do you know this feeling?  

Commercial Break:  How do I explain my love for music?....  I really believe I wouldn't be near the person I am today without music in my life.....maybe that is a totally silly thing to say.... I guess I really don't know, but just know my life would be different.  Man I love music.....I would like to think it likes me a bit too...  I know people who love animals as much as people.  I understand why.  They find complete acceptance and no judgement.  They can share love with them.  They are tremendously loyal and consistent. Although I do not share the same affinity of feeling for animals, I find strong parallels with music. My experience is that music always accepts me, no matter what my proficiency of singing or playing is.  It doesn't matter how much time has passed, the old familiar songs are always ready for me, and always bring the same feelings when first learned.  Music accepts me unconditionally, and is always ready to embrace me on my terms.....Music takes pain away....it softens my heart, brings clarity to my thinking, reminds me that I can feel so deeply, it helps remember amazing memories....for me music is an aural photo album.  I can remember people, places and feelings so vividly by hearing certain songs. Yes, music elevates my spirit and enables me to feel spiritual things almost more than anything else.

Back to McKenna....

So, I play all the songs that I used to when they were little kids.... many songs bring a smile to my face as I would often try to get the kids attention by switching words up or making up verses that they never heard before....they loved that... they would always want me to do more of that which often ended quickly because my creative stretch often found its' limits with only a verse or two... but that was fun.  This night there was only silence....me, the guitar, and McKenna in the other room, quiet and just listening....

In high school I often fantasized about playing in a band.... how cool the idea was then!  I have never been a "performer" per se.  I don't really have the voice or complete pkg to do that. I have alway just loved playing and singing for myself and maybe a very small group.....  I never needed more.  

As performances go however.....this night was my finest.  Alone, me and the music, with a perfect audience of a girl snuggled in her bed letting the old tunes soak in, letting her mind wander, unwind and relax.  All these familiar songs gathering around me like old friends me reminding me of treasured memories, people I love, feelings I hadn't felt for a long time.....Mostly though, making me feel as if my "offering" was being accepted, as if I had found "home".

Was it all for McKenna?  Yes....  Did I lose myself in the process?  Yes.  Did I achieve the intended outcome?  Yes....she was fast asleep by the time I was done....how much time had passed?  Who knows, who cares....The music for sure didn't and neither did I.  In the end I am so grateful to McKenna for that particular invitation, more so than all the dozens of others that came often back in the day...because this may have been for the last time, to participate with her in something that means so much to me but that had meaning for her too.  What I will treasure more than my own personal journey is if this becomes a lasting memory for her that will make her smile later in her life when she gets invited by her 17 year old girl to play and sing her to sleep....

God is good...

Sunday, January 19, 2014

For Good......no comment, it's perfectly written



Click here to hear audio while reading

FOR GOOD

I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason

Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return

Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes the sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you

I have been changed for good

It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint tatoo on my heart

And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend...
Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
Because I knew you

I have been changed for good

And just to clear the air

I ask forgiveness
For the things I've done you blame me for

But then, I guess we know
There's blame to share
And none of it seems to matter anymore
Like a comet pulled from orbit

As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood

Like a ship blown from its mooring

By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a sky bird
in a distant wood

Who can say if I've been

Changed for the better?
I do believe I have been
Changed for the better

And because I knew you...

Because I knew you...
Because I knew you...
I have been changed for good...


Thank you

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Deixar ir.....











Sometimes letting go is the only way to find out if you are meant to.....