What I'm Learning About Me

I've been writing lately, just not publishing. I'm not sure why, but I'm thinking it's something to do with depression.

I have been fighting depression most of the time I've been blogging, mostly because my loss of abilities has coincided with the advent of the blogosphere (circa 2005-06). I deeply enjoy my personal blog because I have the freedom to write about anything. The publishing or lack of it is because I self-censor a lot of it. Either I think it's not worthy of other's attention, or it's "just not quite ready" to show the world.

What I need to be doing is finishing the Christmas letter I publish every year and send out to my friends and family. Yes it's January. It's okay because it's usually a re-cap of the year. Part of me wonders if the "season" of writing those letters is over, or if it's an attempt by the enemy to suppress our testimony, our recount of the way God has worked in our lives. I'm just not sure.

Doubt, obviously, is a part of this depression.

Then there's the other reasons for my depression. I've gained weight again. I'm over "four and a quarter" now.  30.4 stones, that doesn't feel nearly as bad as stepping on the scale does. I am frustrated because I cannot exercise in any meaningful way, and every change to my diet seems to fall short. Please know that this is not an invitation to tell me about your diet or miracle cure.

Chronic fatigue is merely the surface of the issue. I have sleep apnea, which directly feeds the CFS. I have all sorts of neuropathy, but thankfully, my feet don't burn like I've heard others describe. My back is usually hot to the touch and inflamed. It requires ice packs 24/7. My arthritis in my back is not responsible for all of it, either. I have hemangiomas on my spine. Those are benign tumors that, like their name implies, are mostly blood. My arms, legs, back and neck are wracked with spasms unless I continue to take supplements. It's amazing how those supplements help, thanks to a dear friend who suggested them after years of patience and kind prayers. Friends like that are few and far between!

I have skin issues, as well. I have stumbled onto one of the best dermatologists in the state, if not the world. What's worse is that he seems to know it, without my saying so. Colorado is one of the most likely places in the US that a person will contract skin cancer (pdf), so he is in the right place. I get in to see him almost more often than my CFS doctor. The only problem is that I leave his office feeling like a hunk of swiss cheese. I have been lucky thus far.

My hobbies occupy my time, but I don't lose perspective. Much. Sometimes, I feel it's more of a job than a hobby. I just wish I'd get paid for the job part.

I have found out the following in the last year:

• I love maps, with a passion. It's my need to explore. I used to lock myself in a bathroom with the most recent Rand McNally I could find and explore those distant places in my mind. I discovered how pathological this had become when I found out the USGS lets you download PDFs of their quadrangles at no cost. I have over 32 GB of the 7 1/2 minute series alone. Like I said, pathological ...but harmless.
• I enjoy peppermint tea nearly as much as coffee
• I like a peculiar juice blend, but I'm not sure what I can call it without saying a word that would get my blog reclassified by the bots.
• I cannot tolerate soft drinks with HFCS, because it messes my blood sugar up. On the other hand, a little bit of birch beer or a soft drink with real sugar in it is greatly enjoyed and doesn't mess me up as long as I have other food to go with it. This and the fact that I've always been borderline hypoglycemic makes me nervous when I think about my recent weight gain.
• My kids have adjusted to my disabilities much easier than I have. I know that you get less pliable as you age, but I didn't realize how far this extended to psychological aspects.
• Reading the names of USGS maps to my kids can be as funny as anything on TV. It's easy to giggle about names like:
• Badger Wash - How do you wash a badger?
• Bald Mountain - Is it worried about its receding tree line?
• Barking Dog Spring - There's a story there ...maybe
• Bears Ears Peaks - There are two of each?
• Big Hole Butte - 'nuff said

And that's just the B's in northern Colorado.

I'd better hit publish before I self-censor again. Thanks for reading, and hopefully this doesn't come off as narcissistic, just self-absorbed. There's a lot of disclosure here, but I hope I haven't surprised anyone.

Todd: Jobs; Around the House, the Heart Is Where Dads Do the Real Work

I have long followed Todd Wilson, a homeschooling father like me, who goes across the country speaking to other homeschooling dads and moms, unlike me. If I had boundless energy and established donors and speaking contacts, I still wouldn't have the God-given anointing to do what he does to bring homeschooling families the encouragement he does.

Todd's transparency, his willingness to admit his failures to live up to his own ideals, places him in a unique class of legitimacy and sincerity. His tag line, "You da dad!" means simply that each father occupies an irreplaceable role in the lives of his children and that each of us are called to step up and fill the role. It doesn't shift with the changing nature of relationships and the sense of impermanence that pervades today's society. We are the ones who shape the next generation into what they will be, by our presence or, regrettably, by our absence. Our children need things--irreplaceable things--from us as dads that they will never get from their moms or from anyone else in their lives; our approval and our blessing, to name two.

Did I get all this by listening to Todd? Maybe. Or it could be that he simply confirmed what I've known in my heart all along. Regardless, I've grown under his leadership and direction as he teaches by his own life and experiences, which enables his sometimes brutal honesty to cut through all the malarchy and flotsam of being a parent and a person in ministry, two roles I can appreciate more than most.

His latest dispatch from the trenches was about the passing of Steve Jobs, one of the most visionary leaders of technology the world has seen in the past 200 years, perhaps since creation. No, I'm not putting you on, and yes, I'm a PC person. I haven't supported Apple since the Apple IIc in 1985. Yet, even the most hardened PC proponent must recognize Jobs' role in making the technological world what it is today. Nonetheless, Jobs' accomplishments didn't really matter in the big scheme of things. Nor did Newton's or Edison's or anyone else's. They were all human, they died, and what really mattered was who they loved and who loved them. That's true greatness. Todd gives hints of this in his latest update.

Hey Dad,

I hope you’re doing great, but I’m feeling a little somber. It started last night as we were gathered in the familyroom to watch one of the original Anne of Green Gables movies. My oldest son Ben (18) walked into the room and announced, “Steve Jobs just died.”

I imagine it was a little like that evening in the 60’s when they announced that Walt Disney died, especially for a technology kid. Ben is also a techno-kid, so for the last 2-3 years he’s kept us abreast on all the latest Apple inventions and upgrades, Apple stock, and the news that just a few weeks ago Apple passed Exxon as the most valuable company in the world.

Today, the tech-world is eulogizing him…recounting his story, his unique personality, and the gizmos he invented that have helped shape the modern world.

To tell you the truth, I can’t stop thinking that all he worked for, sacrificed for, and cared about…didn’t really matter. Don’t get me wrong. I think all the iGadgets are cool, but I would just about bet that he wasn’t thinking about iGadgets during his last few moments.

In fact, his name will soon fade (my little kids didn’t know Walt Disney was a real person), and someone else will control the iUniverse.

The truth is that some things matter and some things don’t…iThings don’t matter but iDads and iHusbands DO.

So, Dad, go love your wife and children…and change the world!

You ‘da iDad!

There's little to say after all that, except that, the further I go in living with my disabilities, I'm realizing that my role as a husband and a father has so much less to do with my abilities than it does with my heart and my will. I could never lift a finger again and yet be a successful father. Though I can't walk out my love for them by providing for them and working with them on things, I can love them with my heart, my eyes, my words, and my care of their hearts. I will not always have them in my home as I do now, but being a father, as my own father is showing me, never goes away. I will live forever, and I will love forever as well.

Much peace,

Adoption Is A Love Most Wonderful

Something very close to my heart is adoption. No, I have not adopted a child, but I'm very open to it, if finances allow. Stories that feature adoption continue to move my heart. I believe it's because I've grown in my faith to view myself as a child of God, which very closely parallels adoption. Paul repeatedly used adoption to help his readers understand the faith, telling the Romans, Galatians and Ephesians that as Christians, we are adopted as sons (and daughters) into God's family.

Like everyone else born on this planet, I was born into the wrong "family." I did not know God in my heart. I was lost, and, if God Himself had not intervened, I would have died never knowing Him, nor ever finding my true home. He did intervene, thousands of times before I was born and likely many more after. He chose me, not because I was better or worse, happy or sad, or even because I was born to good (or bad) parents. He chose me because He loved me. He made me His son when I had no concept of what that meant.

Adoption is a most wonderful love. It says, "You belong to me. I give you my family and those I dearly love. I give you my name that identifies me, so that you and I are linked together for all time." Perhaps this story that my daughter found on a friend's Facebook page best reflects this. I guarantee you will appreciate reading it.

Of Summer, Steaks and Suffering By Comparison

It's been a tough few weeks. Physically, I have more energy, but pain, insomnia, and "fibro fog" have also been high.

Here we are at the end of June already! It seems like only a few days ago, we were sitting down with our long-time friends, Andy and Sarah and their family, to a dinner of the best steaks I can remember eating. They were that good! A slow cook over charcoal made it even better. Great googly-moogly, if you want to make me salivate this 4th of July, offer the following menu!

From Training A Child To Training A Young Man

We interrupt our regularly scheduled blogging for a very important letter from a father to his son. 

 Dear Son,

This letter is reaching you in April on your birthday, but I started it in January. Something this big is going to take planning and I need to get all the head start I can. I'll get to that in a moment.

You're 12 today. Yea! A solid dozen years of life is now under your belt, and that's terrific! Things haven't been easy for you all the time. You've stuck to your chores, and as you've gotten bigger and more capable, we've given you new ones. However, it's not just that you've grown more capable. You've grown more responsible as well. You don't shirk from doing the job you've been assigned.

You've learned the physical and demanding game of football, so much so that I respect your abilities and your talents. If you continue to practice, work hard, and stay true to your desire, you could certainly play high school in a few years, and from there, there's only One Who knows how far you can go.

Because of these changes and because you are my son, we're going to be training you in things that men are expected to be able to handle. I will teach you all I know about plumbing, household maintenance, car care, and more. I'll train you in driving. I will help you begin to think defensively and how to guard yourself and your loved ones to protect them as best you can.

I will be giving you scriptures to memorize so that you have His Word hidden in your heart. I know from experience that there will be times in your life where you are glad you committed the Scriptures to memory, times where having a Bible is too impractical but where you can bring up out of the storehouse of your heart the solid, insightful truth as you are led by the Holy Spirit. That is the true use of the Sword of the Spirit.

I will be praying with you, teaching you how to meditate, and how to cultivate an active prayer life. I've already worked with you on hearing the Spirit. My hope is that we can improve on this with time and patience.

We will consider all of this part of your homeschooling, but more importantly, I pray that in the end, you will consider this the most valuable part of your early education. I say early education because, really, you never stop learning. But if you start good, if you have a clean, stable foundation, whatever you place on top of it will be in good shape.

Son, I love you. I know you are getting older and I am racing to fill your mind and heart with what you need when you leave. I pray I give you everything God wants me to give you. If I do, I know I will have done as good a job as I can. In the end, I want to hear "Well done! You are good and faithful. Enter into your Father's happiness." As you grow, you will hunger for that more also.

As we move forward, my goal is not to create another "Steve," but to help you become the best you possible in God's sight. Remember that this may not be the same as the best you in the sight of the world. We need to keep talking about this as we go.

I love you, son. We are different in some ways and the same in others. In all, I find you a wonderful boy and future man. You bring me happiness and thankfulness. You are a blessing of God in my life, and I am thankful for you.

Love,

Dad

Tapping The Wallet For A New Set Of Keys

I haven't posted a great deal in a great while. It has been difficult, to say the least--ha!--to not write so much. Part--no, most of it has been due to the wonderful disabilities I live with. I've also been on a bit of an introspective where God has been speaking and I've been taking notes. I'm not sure where this latest leg of the journey is going, but it's been a healthy trip so far I think. My identity and its impact on others has been a lot of it.

What have I been doing lately? Most of the time, I've been coping with aforesaid disabilities, specifically Fibromyalgia and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Other than that, I've been blogging on my railroad blog as a hobby. I've been coping as my family transitions to a new family business, helping my children manage the transition and offering as much moral support as one dad in a chair can.

More recently, I've been adjusting to life with a new keyboard. I don't normally buy things so expensive, but this was an absolute necessity. For years, it has hurt to type. Really, I've needed this keyboard since 2003 or so. For a long time, I knew what I needed, but I didn't know who made it, or where to get it. Now that I have it, the knots and spasms in my upper back have had much less to complain about. They still make a fuss, but it's just not made nearly as bad as when I was using the old keyboard.


Winters are hard to endure when you have certain arthritic conditions. It's painful, and most folks don't discuss it because it's something non-arthritics can't relate to. Pain, it seems, makes more people than just the sufferer uncomfortable. What can I do, though? Ignore it? That's hard to do when you don't want to get out of bed or, worse, can't make it to bed from the chair. Still, I've opted not to blog exclusively about pain this winter because it's not all that beneficial for everyone. On the other hand, having a keyboard that helps that pain is a positive worth noticing.

Thanks for hanging in there with me, friends. I hope this keyboard lets me post more often with less pain. That, or I'll want my money back.

Christmastime In Our Homeschool

I posted about homeschooling during Christmastime on my Dad @ Homeschool blog. Christmastime is a wonderful time for both parents and children in our homeschool. Home education offers so much freedom compared to the rigid secularism in our schools. We can offer our children, and our God, so much more!

Wisdom And Artistry From Unexpected Places

My youngest has such a unique perspective! She's definitely the artist in the family. Last night, after a particularly hard day, I was about to lead the whole family in prayer, but then Shiloh asks, "Can I lead?" I was so taken off guard, the improper English didn't even register!

"Sure!" I said.

"Dear Jesus, please put the five pieces of our puzzle back together again ...and you be the board that holds us all together. Wow! Now I have two word pictures of God!"

To quote The Cat In The Hat, That is not all. Oh, no, that is not all.

Earlier in the conversation, before I even arrived, my firstborn was having a very real, teen-in-crisis moment when she confessed that she didn't see her purpose in life. This is a very honest question that I dealt with myself. Shiloh's answer, though, was one I'd never heard before.

"Kylie, I am so glad you're here because if you weren't, then Keegan and I would have to share a room. And we would have an empty room," she said, referring to the room they shared.

It didn't dawn on her that she would have had her own room just for her, or if it did, it didn't show. She's the one that's capable of sensing other's emotions and adjusting to the moment. That's a good foundation for an artist, or a counselor.

It's so good that we have her here at home with us! I'm certain beyond any shadow of doubt that putting her in a schoolroom would have negatively affected her, possibly to the point of ruining her wonderful, sensitive, kind, and loving spirit. I am so grateful for the gift of my young lady Shiloh!

The Power of the Pen

It's another night, another weird day in Fibromyalgia. After sleeping through dinner, I went upstairs to sleep in earnest. I couldn't keep my eyes open, so I figured I'd make the best of it. When my wife came to check on me, I had lower back pain that wouldn't go away. I tried massage, I tried stretching, and I tried different towel rolls. Nothing would make it go away enough for me to sleep through until morning. Sitting up somehow makes the pain go away.

Fatherly Priorities From Early Life

I happened across a good quote today.

"I don't care how poor a man is; if he has family, he's rich."  - Dan Wilcox 

Before I became a father, before I married my wife, I knew what I wanted. I wanted a loving, kind wife and mother of my children who would love them as much as I would. I wanted a home where we would eat dinner together most every night. I wanted one where we loved each other, and told each other as much, as often as we could stand. I don't mean the "Love ya!" belted out as one leaves for an activity. I mean holding your beloved in an embrace, looking them full in the face, and saying "I love you very much!" I want a family that remembers with fondness all the time we spent with each other. I believe that this is what helps a family grow and produce stable, kind, engaging citizens who have the strength to help others.

My wife, thankfully, was of the same mind and as we've lived, we've made choices in line with that. We saw the busy lives of people who were chasing their tails, trying to have it all. Even if they could have it all--and they couldn't--how could they enjoy it?

To this day, I haven't regretted having set that priority.

The Heart Of A Young Man

My head is full of things tonight. I am under a week away from an appointment that will have significant bearing on aspects about my future, yet I find myself spending less and less time thinking about it. Instead, I find it preoccupied with how marvelous a family I have. My children are amazing. I couldn't have picked better kids if I had the choice and knew exactly what was in each of their hearts. I don't want to gush sentimentality all over, but they each bring me a unique joy and happiness I've never thought possible.

If God Knows Everything, Why Pray?

My wife was feeling very poorly. A pinched nerve had developed into a condition where any movement was very painful. We called up a friend who is gifted in healing and asked if he could come over. He said "Oh, that's why the Spirit was telling me to make dinner for you guys!"

That evening, we sat together over pork chops and yellow rice. The kids had finished early and were playing downstairs, the boys trying out their Nerf swords on each other. As can happen, play fighting turned to real fighting when the blows got too hard or they were taken too personally, and the sword play broke off into other things. That night, as I was tucking my son into bed, his emotions still hadn't really cooled. I walked him through the steps of forgiving the persons in absentia. As I did, I told him that God wanted to hear what had happened and what he felt and why. 

"But God already knows these things, Dad. Why should I tell him what he already knows?" he asked.

"Because He wants relationship with you," I told him. 

"I don't get it."

"Well, why else would we ask God to heal me? He knows I need healing. He knows I want to be healed. But He wants me to come to Him and ask Him." It's the situations we can't handle that drive us to connect with Him, and that's what He wants. He wants to hear how our day was, even though he was there for every millisecond. He loves us and went to the trouble of creating mankind just to risk you saying "yes!" to Him. He wants that daily connection, even hourly connection with your heart. What moves us, moves His heart too. Eventually, it will be that what moves His heart will move us as well. That's relationship. That's love. That's the Kingdom.

Benched

I have not had too many "up" days recently. A lot have been spent laid out in bed, searching for some way to lay my body that didn't cause pain. I don't have an explanation. I can't readily point to something and say, "I overdid it and I shouldn't do that." It's just been one long string of ow. Ow, this hurts. Ow, that hurts. It wouldn't be so bad if the fatigue wasn't the super-industrial quality that gives me 30-120 minutes before it knocks me out again. It's just one more day in the life of Fibromyalgia. On the up-side, I found a good page that really spells out to folks what FM is like, thanks to Adrienne Dellwo of About.com.

The most frustrating part is knowing that I missed a day of my kids lives with nothing but a dented mattress to show for it. They only have 120 more before their birthdays (all in April), and they're changing every day. I feel like because I can't keep my head from the pillow, I'm failing them as a father. This isn't reality, of course. I have no choice in the matter. It's just the way my emotions get the better of me when I miss time with them. I can certainly relate to those who are imprisoned, those who can't beat their addictions, and those like me who struggle with a debilitating illness. You see life passing by and it hurts to know that you're not a part of it every day.

Yet, I have to believe that God will give me the ability to be there for my kids when it matters. I need God to give me the strength and stamina to be a father and pastor to my family. I need Him, period. He will supply all my needs. His grace is sufficient for me, for His power is made perfect in my weakness. He's given me everything I need for life and godliness. My hope will not disappoint, my faith is steadfast and firm, not because I am powerful, but because He is all-powerful in me, my weak and tattered body. He will deliver me from this body of death through Jesus Christ, our Lord! I cling to this, even in the darkest of times.

Take comfort in Him. He will meet your every need.

Dealing With An Angry Heart

As a father and a Christian, I have a unique opportunity to help my children tap into one of their greatest assets: their relationship with the Holy Spirit. Jesus said that He would send us the Holy Spirit who would guide us into all truth. The Spirit is a counselor, a companion and a direct link to God’s heart for us.

Tonight, my eldest was having one of her battles against her horrible tension headaches. She literally feels like the muscles are going to break her skull. After I assured her that wasn’t going to happen, I asked her if she had been talking to God about her worries. She said it seemed He wasn’t listening. When I dug deeper, it came to light that she didn’t want to say to God some things that she was feeling about Him.

One obstruction to a life free in Christ, living by His Spirit, is refusing to be honest with God about ourselves. We may feel like we aren’t worthy of His attentions. We may feel angry at, hurt by, or even abused by Him. Failing to bring these things front and center in our prayers with God is being dishonest with Him. We may feel like He doesn’t want to hear why we’re angry or that He will strike us down with an even worse affliction if we “complain.”  Beloved, if your heart cannot bear the wound, don’t you think your Creator wants to help, to heal you and comfort you? Doesn’t He already know your heart and what you feel? Refusing to bring these things out and deal with them in His presence is preposterous and ignorant of the One Who loves us.

God really wants us to be honest about our feelings with Him. He’s a big God, and he can take the vitriol and fire of an angry heart. The dissolution of pretense is the solution.  Being honestly angry with God is something we all need to be at some point. It’s a natural outflow of human hearts saved by Love while still living in a fallen world of sin.

When we’re honest and forthright with our anger and frustrations, God will do one of two things with your heart. He will either help you understand the nature of the problem and lead you in the direction that will be most in line with His will for you, or He will comfort you and cry with you, giving you the grace and solace that only God can give. They call it the peace that transcends understanding. It may not be what you want, but it is definitely what you need, and God’s heart always gives you what you need.

So if you’re driving down the same ugly road, your fuel is low, and the lights on your dash just couldn’t get any redder, pull over. He’ll be coming along and you can let Him help. There’s one condition. Only you can pop the hood and let Him look you over. There’s no anger or condemnation in His eyes. You’re His child and you always will be. But you need to let Him be the one to guide you out of the bad part of town you’re in and learn how to let Him maintain your heart. He’s an excellent mechanic, and I trust him with my life, and more importantly, my children.

There Goes the Sesame Street Neighborhood

My wife came up and told me that Sesame Street had done another spoof. This time it was a skit called "Desperate Horse-wives." I got a groan when I asked if the characters were less than neigh-borly.

In all seriousness, I'm not that thrilled with how the folks at Sesame Street parody network TV shows. While I am sure that the creators mean simple and innocent fun with their skits, I believe it also sends the message that the shows they represent are normal and acceptable in normal households. I'm not sure how normal we are, but Desperate Housewives is a show that we do not let in our house. My children know that when Extreme Makeover Home Edition is over and they hear, "Previously on Desperate Housewives..." power to the television is to be immediately terminated. It's almost comical how they scramble to turn it off, as if they were diving on a live grenade.

While it may not be a grenade, many TV shows are painfully difficult for us to watch these days. Some of the shows are so corrosive, I wonder how anyone can possibly watch them. Consequently, some nights we simply don't turn on the television set. Instead, we will read a good book or play a game together, if we don't split up to do separate things. We avoid the shows not because we like feeling superior or cerebral, but because we've found that these shows actively interfere with our hearts and minds.  

^8-9Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies. (Philippians 4:8, The Message)

I can't come out with a list of TV shows that I think are bad or good. The verse above should be more than enough for the average Christian, especially when it's paired with the conviction of the Holy Spirit. Each person is responsible only to God for decisions like these. However, Jesus did give us a special charge with children.

"And if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a large millstone tied around his neck. Mark 9:42 (NIV)

To me this verse means that God takes the destruction of children's innocence very seriously. This is why the Sesame Street skits irritate me. It feels like they're playing with fire. Look smart all you want, but I would prefer if they would just stick with "C is for cookie," and the yip-yip monsters.

What? You've never heard of the yip-yip monsters?

Yip Yip

| MySpace Video Thanks Jodi!

This Post Will Make You Hungry

One of the wonderful things about the blogosphere is that, once in a while, you happen upon a blogger who you really resonate with. For me, the blog “Lisanotes” has been hitting all the right chords with me. Recently, she had a book review that I found unexpectedly useful.

The problem has been months—no, years!—in the making. My 10 year old son has had more than his share of difficulty in understanding his sisters. Disagreements and frustrations over daily occurrences, like my 13 year-old daughter’s use of the computer, have boiled into huge conflicts. Lisa’s review of a book titled, Men Are Like Waffles, Women Are Like Spaghetti, which I had skimmed over, came to my mind. After reading the review, I sat down with my son and explained the concept to him. I will let my son take it from here.

If I were a food I’d be a Waffle. I’d be a Waffle because it describes how a male’s brain works and processes things. A Waffle has squares in it (as always), so does a males brain (supposedly). Each box represents a thing that a male is doing or thinking about at one time. Males think differently than females. They focus on one thing at one time. Females don’t think or do one thing at one time, they think or do it all at once. Therefore, females are like spaghetti because their minds keep on thinking about everything at once. They keep on following the spaghetti line through all the sauce and other noodles. Then they run out of noodle, and then their minds jump to another noodle that leads them to another, and another, and another, and another and another and so on and so forth. That is how I think that the male and female minds work, and that is why, if I were a food, I would want to be a Waffle.

(p.s. My Dad explained this to me, which really helped understand my mom and my sisters.)

Like a lot of boys, my son understands word pictures. Until this moment, it was really hard for him to understand the differences God has built into women. Now, instead of him wishing that girls were more like boys, which is something every 10 year old boy seems to struggle with, he allows his sisters the freedom to be who they are. The difference inside our house is night and day! I can hardly believe what a difference it has made. Instead of berating his little sister for leaving a mess somewhere, he reminds her that she should help clean up. His humor, his bright smile, his very soul seems sweeter and more mature. I have the feeling that I just did my future daughter-in-law—whoever she may be—a huge favor.

I told you this post will make you hungry. Let's go to IHOP and talk it over.

Love And Grace In the Face Of Life And Death

I have held off on writing this post for a couple of days, mostly because I needed time to reflect and process the raw emotions of it all. Like a lot of guys, I don't handle emotions well. I keep the lid tightly screwed down and only let off steam in a controlled way when I know it's safe, just like a pressure relief valve. This works for being a dad, usually, unless there's too much pressure, and then it's either vent or explode. I know others can identify with this. The problem for me, however, is that chronic pain and the natural stresses of being disabled (economic, physical, and psychological) have my boiler at an already high pressure. Sometimes, people feel they have to tip-toe around me, and I am so ashamed of this.

I am disclosing this very real struggle simply because this weekend, I met a family who has been through so much more than I have in the last 15 years and yet remain bound to each other by the love and grace of God.

Many in the homeschooling community know of Chris Klicka and his work with the Homeschool Legal Defense Association (HSLDA). Until recently, few have known about his battle with Multiple Sclerosis (MS). Since the MS has progressed and robbed him of even the more basic functions of life, he came to a national homeschool conference to be with the leaders one last time. Last Friday, he became so ill that they hospitalized him. My wife and I were able to meet with the family on Sunday, mostly to pray with and encourage them.

It was then that God used one of the classic tactics in his toolbox. We went there to minister and bless, only to find ourselves being ministered to and blessed. I'm sure we did help, but we were witness to such love and grace that we found ourselves humbled and almost embarrassed. One of their friends said to us, "You are at ground zero. So many prayers from around the world are focused here." It was clearly evident. What could have been a time of great sorrow and frustration was instead a time of patience and prayer. Sure, there was uncertainty looking at the future, especially where Chris's future was concerned, but there was no doubt that whether he stayed or went, he would be blessed. Paul wrote the church in Phillipi with the same dilemma, saying,

If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.

The understanding is that Chris wants to leave this body and be with Christ. The only thing keeping him here is the will of God, which is tied to the needs of the believers here. Whatever God wants to work here while Chris remains, whether it is calling people to prayer or bringing some unseen fruit out of this situation, the Klicka family is submitted to it. They pray over him, read scripture to him, love on him as much as they can, but they know that God will call him home when He says it is time. So much love, submitted to God's authority was incredible and humbling! Could we face the same situation with as much love and grace? Only by God's power and strength.

While we traveled there for one purpose, it's becoming clear to me that we were there partly so that Chris' family could impact us, which in turn means that Chris himself survived a close call on Saturday night because we needed to witness God working through his family on Sunday. I do not know the future, but I know that such love submitted under God's will can only reap a bigger and better harvest in the coming days and weeks.

If you want to follow Chris Klicka's condition and his family, you can visit his Caring Bridge journal. Please continue to pray for the grace and peace to flow through and around this family!

In the Moment

This evening, my 6 year-old daughter had finished her dinner, and, as we watched a video I was watching, I gave her a piece of Hershey's Special Dark chocolate. It's a treat that I like to give on occasion. She began nibbling on the chocolate, enjoying it. I had another piece and I set it down in front of her.

"Is that for me?" she asked.

"For when you're done with the first one, yes." I replied.

Immediately, the first piece disappeared into her mouth as she picked up the second, which she began nibbling as she had the first one. Soon that one was gone too. I wiped the chocolate away from her cheek as we continued watching the video. On the screen, a person in the video was suddenly healed and their appearance changed back to wholeness.

"Someday, I hope God heals me like that," I said.

"Me too," she said. "Sometimes I wish you didn't have to have Fibro-my-algia." Both of our sets of eyes got misty at her words. Fibromyalgia is such a big word for a 6 year-old.

"But there is a good thing," I said. "Because I'm home more, we're poorer, but I also get to see more of you. I get to watch you grow up." We hugged, and like I've done so often, I thanked God for her.

I think I understand why God doesn't show us very much of our future. If he did, it would be like laying down more chocolate in front of us. We wouldn't savor what we had in our hands. So often, we look to the future (or the past) and we don't savor the moment of now. We envision the next bar of chocolate or remember the last. Being in the moment, savoring each one, is what I want to do.

However, in order for me to do that, I have to quit thinking about the future (or the past). I have to trust God to take care of tomorrow and yesterday, the next hour, the next moment, so that I can release them and free my arms to embrace the moment. This is not easy for the schemer or the survivor to do, but it's something that the children of God do naturally. The schemer looks at the future, the survivor lookes at the past. The child of God is living in the moment, worshiping their Creator, loving those around them, and delighting in the goodness with which God blesses us.

I have been through much with this illness. I also hope that God heals me soon. But savoring the moment is what I was made to do.

Speaking Boy

Marsha speaks Boy, and I speak Girl. Parenthood is amazing stuff!

What Was I Saying?

I read this quote today in PluggedInOnline.com's newsletter:

"[Adolescents live in] an institutionalized culture of interruption, where our time and attention is being fragmented by a never-ending stream of phone calls, e-mails, instant messages, text messages and tweets." —Maggie Jackson, author of Distracted: The Erosion of Attention and the Coming Dark Age [usatoday.com, 6/23/09]

I'm not sure what's worse, this news or the dark prediction of her book title.