If we all were to look back on our life, what would we consider to be the "best days"? Would it be the times when everything seemed to be perfect? The times when the sun shined the brightest and the soft warm breezes wrapped around our body like a gentle massage? When our friends and family contributed and enhanced our sense of fulfilment and love? When the world wasn't fighting against our plan for happiness, but rather, seemed to dance along with us and, at times, even let us lead? Are these the best times in life? If so, then I got to see a few of the best times of my life last week while at the beach with my family. But as I recall all the events that took place last week, I realize that we all had more than a week's worth of struggles as well. But I'm beginning to realize that it's these struggles that actually make up the "best days" of our lives.
To me, there is not a much better feeling than sitting on an ocean beach with my mind fully aware that tomorrow's plans are just going to be a carbon copy of today's. Relaxation has been a goal of mine since as far back as I remember. And the best remedy I've found for my stresses, fatigue, and anxieties is a series of lazy days laying on a warm sunny beach. Waves continuously crashing, children continuously playing, and the sun and breezes continuously affecting my senses is as close to heaven as I've felt (at least physically). But as I look back on all my beach trips, all the times of laying on the beach seem to be lumped together in one package. No one day seems to be better than any other. In fact, all the "good times" from these vacations apparently go in a big box in my memory entitle "BEACH". So some of the "best days" of my life have been at the beach, but I don't seem to recall the specifics, just the whole package...the whole box entitled "BEACH".
But what I do recall specifically is the bad times: The arguments, the jelly fish bites, the neck pains, the sicknesses, the sun burns and rashes, the deaths in the family, the tornadoes, the toe nails ripping off.....So in reflection, I wonder why these tough times, these struggles, come to us in the midst of our "good times". Is it God's hand or is it the Devil's handiwork?...or both? My Father-in-law has always jokingly referred to our family vacations as "the vacation from hell #(?)"...I think this year was #12 or something. But even with this title, he along with all of us, keeps coming back for more. Year after year we all eagerly await the next "vacation from hell". So after all this time I'm beginning to realize that these one week vacations are mini-capitulated examples of our whole life. In one week, the good times are multiplied substantially, but as a result, the bad times seem to be as well. But it's the bad times we remember best, because it's the bad times that effect us the most.
Now as I'm three days removed from "the vacation from hell #12", let me be the first in the family to say "bring on #13"! Because with 12 vacations behind us, this family has something that most families do not. Just like people who have been to war together will attest to, it's the struggles in life that bring about growth. And when people struggle together, they grow together. And when our life's journey starts drawing to an end, it will be in these times of shared growth that we will realize that God has given us the "best days" of our lives.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Ode to "Disco Bob"
I've always considered a good book, poem, or letter to be one that can effect the mood of the reader. If the written word can take an angry person to glad, a glad person to sad, or a sad person to laughter, then I believe the author has succeeded in giving the reader the emotional journey required for a "good read." I am so intrigued by this ability, that the written word has almost become an obsession to me. And now I try to use my written words to point others to God, show love to loved ones, entertain, honor, and inquire. All of which give me joy and fulfillment in the process. So thanks to everyone who takes the time to read my ramblings, you give me the motivation to keep pursuing the desire God has placed in my heart...the desire to write.
I'm going to put my writing skills to the test today. I am going to try and give my Dad his due honor. And do it within the confinements of a short enough post as to not bore the reader into retreat. In only 3 paragraphs, I'll strive to make my Dad both laugh and cry. No small feat in either case! And this or the previous paragraph does not count. So here it goes:
Last night I asked my kids to clean out my truck of all their junk that has accumulate over the past months. I left them completely unsupervised so I could put their work ethic to the test. When I walked to my truck this morning I was pretty much expecting to be disappointed, but when I opened my truck door I was shocked at the sight! Although the kids did successfully shovel out the multiple layers of paper, food, and drink that I had become so accustomed to, the interior of my truck was covered with more hair than Andre Agassi's shower drain ever saw! With a little investigation, I noticed my hard working 11 and 7 year old had left the back cargo window of my truck open. You know, the one that's about 10" x 10" wide. As I stared in disbelief at the situation, I realized that the thunderstorm the following night had scared my two German Shepherds enough to cause them to force their way into this small window and take refuge in my truck. Anyone with an imagination can guess how much hair two wet dogs with a combined weight of 170lbs can dispense inside a small truck's interior. Plus the smell wasn't that of a rose peddle! This story is so my Dad knows that his son is also a dad with the typical dad stresses. This should bring him joy!
My Dad grew up the youngest of three boys. I can't say for sure, but I would guess that he grew up without a lot of hugs and compliments from his older siblings. In fact I would say it was probably quite the opposite. Brothers are often very competitive and to acquire the confidence the older brothers need to succeed in life, the youngest brother can become quite the physical and verbal punching bag. But love is too powerful to be concealed. So a young boy can grow up being "picked on" and struggling to gain the respect of his older brothers, but still know that he is loved...that he will always have his role as a brother. So teasing, joking, and harassing isn't always negative, sometimes just below the surface of these actions is an immense love and respect. This is true of our family. These actions are a big part of the"glue" that holds us all together. Not many conversations with Dad come and go without some form of teasing. But contrary to what others might think, I feel great love and respect both to and from my Dad during these exchanges. It is who he is and, as a result, it is who I am. I love when my wife, kids, friends, and family tease me, because it's in this teasing that I equate love. Love can not hide. If it exists, it will be evident even when we are making fun of each other...and in the case of our family, I would question it's presents if those jokes quit coming.
This is by no means a insincere attempt to manipulate my Dad's emotions. I have great respect for who he is as a man, a dad, and a husband. He has achieved great things both in his life and in the lives of our family. I've used him as a model of strength and integrity my whole life, and he's just as solid today as when I first "met" him. I had a phone conversation with my Mom a few days ago, and she had a tearful moment that came as a result of her telling me about some seemingly insignificant action my Dad had done. I'm sure he's not even aware of what he did that effected her so. My Mom's tears were the tears of joy because, in this action, she was fully aware of the love my Dad still has for her. That's one of the best gifts a father can give his child. And that's a gift no Father's Day present will ever match up to. So Happy Father's Day Dad! I love you....even though you look gay in your pink shirt!
I'm going to put my writing skills to the test today. I am going to try and give my Dad his due honor. And do it within the confinements of a short enough post as to not bore the reader into retreat. In only 3 paragraphs, I'll strive to make my Dad both laugh and cry. No small feat in either case! And this or the previous paragraph does not count. So here it goes:
Last night I asked my kids to clean out my truck of all their junk that has accumulate over the past months. I left them completely unsupervised so I could put their work ethic to the test. When I walked to my truck this morning I was pretty much expecting to be disappointed, but when I opened my truck door I was shocked at the sight! Although the kids did successfully shovel out the multiple layers of paper, food, and drink that I had become so accustomed to, the interior of my truck was covered with more hair than Andre Agassi's shower drain ever saw! With a little investigation, I noticed my hard working 11 and 7 year old had left the back cargo window of my truck open. You know, the one that's about 10" x 10" wide. As I stared in disbelief at the situation, I realized that the thunderstorm the following night had scared my two German Shepherds enough to cause them to force their way into this small window and take refuge in my truck. Anyone with an imagination can guess how much hair two wet dogs with a combined weight of 170lbs can dispense inside a small truck's interior. Plus the smell wasn't that of a rose peddle! This story is so my Dad knows that his son is also a dad with the typical dad stresses. This should bring him joy!
My Dad grew up the youngest of three boys. I can't say for sure, but I would guess that he grew up without a lot of hugs and compliments from his older siblings. In fact I would say it was probably quite the opposite. Brothers are often very competitive and to acquire the confidence the older brothers need to succeed in life, the youngest brother can become quite the physical and verbal punching bag. But love is too powerful to be concealed. So a young boy can grow up being "picked on" and struggling to gain the respect of his older brothers, but still know that he is loved...that he will always have his role as a brother. So teasing, joking, and harassing isn't always negative, sometimes just below the surface of these actions is an immense love and respect. This is true of our family. These actions are a big part of the"glue" that holds us all together. Not many conversations with Dad come and go without some form of teasing. But contrary to what others might think, I feel great love and respect both to and from my Dad during these exchanges. It is who he is and, as a result, it is who I am. I love when my wife, kids, friends, and family tease me, because it's in this teasing that I equate love. Love can not hide. If it exists, it will be evident even when we are making fun of each other...and in the case of our family, I would question it's presents if those jokes quit coming.
This is by no means a insincere attempt to manipulate my Dad's emotions. I have great respect for who he is as a man, a dad, and a husband. He has achieved great things both in his life and in the lives of our family. I've used him as a model of strength and integrity my whole life, and he's just as solid today as when I first "met" him. I had a phone conversation with my Mom a few days ago, and she had a tearful moment that came as a result of her telling me about some seemingly insignificant action my Dad had done. I'm sure he's not even aware of what he did that effected her so. My Mom's tears were the tears of joy because, in this action, she was fully aware of the love my Dad still has for her. That's one of the best gifts a father can give his child. And that's a gift no Father's Day present will ever match up to. So Happy Father's Day Dad! I love you....even though you look gay in your pink shirt!
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