The Sword

I was again faced with my own shortcomings again today...

Tuesday is garbage day. We have a garbage can in our garage that rarely gets emptied out, mostly because it's rarely full. As I was emptying it out today, I saw something I'd thrown away about a month ago. It was a toy sword that belonged to Simon. In two pieces, it lay there staring back at me...a reminder of my impatience and quick temper with my son.

The kids came with me for the evening, Carolyn must have had to work. They were well-behaved for several hours, but things started to unravel with the kids and it was about time to head home. They were getting really tired. Simon brought along his favorite plastic sword, bent halfway from so many hours of pretending. All through the evening, he'd been poking and whacking Ella with it. He was merciless, she must have asked him 2 dozen times to quit hitting her with it. It's not a rare occurrence. We were on the way home, an hour after bedtime, and Simon poked Ella in the eye. Again...on purpose...hard. I'd had it with the torture. We were at a stop light, and after I'd mad sure that Ella wasn't permanently injured I asked Simon for the sword. I took each half of the sword and ripped it apart. I scolded him and told him that it wouldn't have happened if he'd kept his hands to himself. In reality, it shouldn't have happened at all. A simple reprimand would have been sufficient, and I was too harsh. Not one of my prouder moments...

Last weekend, Carolyn and I were out shopping and I found a cheap sword for Simon. I bought it for him out of the blue, and he was very happy to have a new one. He didn't seem to show any ill effects from the night the sword was destroyed...and I was thankful. I made a pact with myself that night, that I would interact with Simon differently. I need to be intentional with in my relationship with him. It doesn't always come easy, and he frustrates me quickly. I decided that I needed to look past the frustration and find ways to express my love to him. Since then, we've instituted "dude's night". Every other Wednesday, when Ella and Carolyn are gone at Girl Scouts, Simon and I do something that only boys do. It's been wonderful. I enjoy my time with him, and God's opened my eyes to just how wonderful a boy he is.

I'm grateful that God uses things like broken toy swords to remind us that we are often difficult to love, and yet he looks past that to pursue a relationship with us. It's a blessing...and amazing blessing.

This blog is for Nate...

"Two posts in a month do not a blog make"

Make it 3.

Thanks Nate!

A really bad memory

I don't know why I remember this, but I do. In fact, I was thinking today about the things in my past (childhood) that were so hurtful to me. One of them sticks out like a thorn in my brain...and I have to share it.

When I was a freshman in High School, my best friend Trevor and I made the varsity baseball team. Now before you start thinking that I was some kind of child baseball prodigy, we lived in a very small town and the whole high school had 350 kids in it. Not a lot of choices for the sports teams. Nonetheless, I tried out for the team and I made it. I also played on the J.V team, but I really felt cool playing Varsity. We had a fine season, no records broken or amazing wins, but we did just fine.

After all was said and done, we had a baseball banquet. The team all showed up along with our parents and coaches. It was quite a to-do. During that banquet, coach gave awards to each of the students and any letters for the letter jackets. I remember wanting a letter jacket so bad...I wanted to be cool like every other kid. I had endured an entire season of being poked and teased, bullied and bruised for that letter. I couldn't wait until it was my turn. When it came my turn, coach said some really nice things about me and told everyone that he didn't think I had what it took to make the team. He was really glad that I had been on the team, and he congratulated me for my stick-to-it-iveness. He asked me to come forward, gave me a sheet of paper with my stats on it, and shook my hand. That's it. I didn't get the letter. I stood there in shock, with a lump in my throat the size of a baseball. Eventually, I made it back to my seat and did my best to hold back the wave of tears I knew was coming.

I felt like such a baby. I got to the car with my parents, and started crying. I told them that I thought I should have gotten a letter, and I didn't understand why I didn't. All the other guys got one...every one...but me. They clearly were sympathetic, and encouraged me to go talk to coach. So I got out of the car and made my way back into the school where the banquet was. In my red-eyed, tear streamed way I asked coach why I hadn't gotten a letter. He told me that even thought I had made the team, I didn't have enough innings to earn the letter. I was 2 short. That's right...2 innings short of getting a letter in baseball as a freshman. He told me to try again next year and walked away.

I was crushed. I didn't fit in, and I didn't get what I thought I'd deserved. It was incredibly hurtful, and it sticks with me today.

Still today, there are times when I feel like I don't fit in. Like I don't have a place, or that I'm not accepted. I was never the most popular kid in school, and I didn't have the most friends. I wasn't the best looking, or most athletic. All those things went to other kids. I felt....average. It's something I've felt for most of my life. Average. I think God wants to redeem this and change me. Maybe that's why (in part) I got into ministry. I want to change the world and make a difference. I don't want to be average, or so-so. I want to be a world changer.

Happy Birthday Carolyn!

My beautiful wife's birthday is today. I'm so glad I married her. She's the apple of my eye, the greatest blessing I've ever known. I have no idea how I ended up with her, but I did. Actually, I do know. God gives undeserved blessings, and I'm clearly the recipient.

Looking forward to spending many more birthdays with you...I love you more than you ever know!

Have you ever been a part of a new thing?

Well, have you? I don't mean starting school or a new job. I don't mean moving into a new neighborhood or getting a new car. I'm talking about something so new and different that you'll probably never do anything like it again. Like climbing Mt. Everest or running a marathon.

I've got a couple friends that just recently finished running the Twin Cities Marathon. These two guys have never run a marathon before, and wouldn't consider themselves "runners" or "athletes". But they dedicated themselves to doing something they've never done before, and accomplished something they'll always remember.

Being a part of a new church is kinda like that. It's something you'll experience once, and probably never again. It's exhilirating, exciting, keep you awake at night thrilling, and something you'll probably do once because it takes so much out of you. That's right, I actually said that starting a new church is exciting. Most people's idea of church is anything but exciting. Quite to the contrary. There is nothing more thrilling than to see lives changed...at ground level.

I'm looking forward to the next phase of life. It's probably going to be the hardest and most difficult thing I'll ever do. I'm praying that it will also be the most satisfying. If you're in the area, come check us out. Maybe God will change your life like he's changing mine.

I'm back!

After almost a year's hiatus, I'm back in the blogging world. If there are any of you left that still have your RSS feeds pointing here, I'm shocked. Thank you nonetheless. If you're wondering, I'm actually going to be trying to host 2 blogs. The first is for our new church...EpicLife Church. You can click on the link here to find the church blog, written by...yours truly. This however will remain my personal blog. I'll continue to post my person thoughts and ramblings, far less edited than the church blog version. We'll see though, I'm a pastor now remember?

We'll I've got more to say, but I'll add it in the next post.

peace

Tooth Fairy Note

Ella lost her 2nd tooth tonight. I got home from a meeting and she was still awake. Carolyn allowed her to stay up until Dad got home so that I could pull the tooth out. That's right, it's my job, and I love it. To make a long story short, I got the tooth out without too much fussing. No door slamming and string, just good ol' yanking. Here's her gap tooth smile tonight.




She was so excited, she almost couldn't get to sleep. When she finally did, I took the liberty of writing her a note from the Tooth Fairy.




Some may say that I'm the meanest dad ever, but you laughed...so don't judge me.