D-Day & the Element of Sacrifice in Morality

This morning I’m sitting with my two beautiful toddler girls at the breakfast table. They’re humming and cooing and singing, while carefully applying their make-up for the day (oatmeal). The wipes are going to have to be a little extra sturdy today. Teddy Grahams braved through the leftover oatmeal only to be picked off from a rather hungry aerial attack. There were no survivors.

 

 

Today is the day we honor those men who braved the beaches of Normandy 65 years ago. Their sacrifices help to make it possible for me to enjoy breakfast with my girls in relative peace … the hapless fate of the cinnamon bears aside. My family will grow into a brighter future because of their willingness to be buried with their dreams of the future on the Normandy beaches. Enough words do not exist to capture the gratitude I have for those people. I can daily live their sacrificial devotion in service to my family and country and instill this love for others in my girls.

We who live in the illusion of peace and safety would do well to consider those who willingly fell low on D-Day … before riding their high moral horses in the current “torture” debate and in any general discussion of pacifism. Those, who took their own dreams, freedom, safety, and lives to “bed” on those deadly beaches, hauntingly call to us who live in the ease of comfy illusions of peace and safety. They sacrificed their all for millions of innocent others. Dare we sacrifice the dreams, freedom, safety, and lives of millions of innocents to keep our own personal moral slates clean?

(D-Day picture from History Link 101: dhttp://www.historylink101.com/wwII_b-w/d-day/landingcraft/IMG_4162.html)

Moments

Today is the 1 year anniversary of the tragic death of Steven and Mary Beth Chapman’s baby girl, Maria Sue. Dr. Dobson for the past three days has aired the interview he conducted with Steven in lieu of this approaching event. The heart wrenching climax was Steven discussing his song, “Cinderella,” and then playing it. Rather than wincing at and from the sad moments in life, when God “turns his head the other way and they are ripped from us,” this song is about celebrating the precious moments that God in his sovereignty gives us to be with our loved ones.

His daughter is getting married in October. She wants her brother … Steven’s son (the guy who was behind the wheel of the vehicle that took Maria Sue’s life) … to sing “Cinderella” at the wedding. She wants her dad to be free to dance with her.

I was listening to this, while taking my little flower to her baby sitter’s house. Yes, I had a “moment.” As I’m writing this, especially the previous paragraph, I’m having a “moment.” If progression and trajectory in one’s life are any reliable predictors, I am totally off-course. I was on a trajectory from the middle of my teen-age years of landing in an institution, either in the penal system or the state hospital … or possibly in a suicidal noose. I should not have the family I do today. Nor should I be the man that I am today. God’s salvation-transformation is wonderful. I was holding the fruit in my arms, just before taking her into the baby-sitter’s house.

However, my wonderful flower sniffed an aroma. “What’s that smell?” she wondered several times. I had just returned from my daily run. This morning I ran 3.6 miles and walked 2.4 miles. “What’s that smell,” she wondered with a grimacing face. Yes, daddy was not exactly smelling like a rose.

My youngest baby girl has gotten cuter and more irresistibly-adorable over the last two months. Ever since she began walking (and is now sprinting … sort of) she has grown vastly more content and vastly less irritable. She, in all of her cuteness, will come around cooing and giggling and cackling … when I have food … open her mouth wide, receive the deposit, and float away … at least until that bite is gone. Then she returns for more.

Rather my kids are way too naively-observant or just plain scavengers, pawning smiles for easy food, I love them authentically. I don’t live in the air-brushed and edited world of Hollywood or Nashville … nor do the Chapmans … nor does God. He is the wildly-passionate God who lives in our muck and grime, walking alongside us, redeeming us and our situations, giving us “moments.”

May God truly bless the Chapmans, as they continue to cope with their tragic loss, and as they continue to inspire us with their authentic faith … in Jesus’s name, Amen.

A Prayer from the Heart

“Dear God, please help my friends to be patient, not say ‘butt,’ and not pee on the floor.”

                                                                                  —My 3-year-old daughter.

Too bad that her theology is more mature and sophisticated than some adults I know.

Happy Birthday to My Best Friend

Today is the day that my family celebrates the life of my best friend … my wife. God has truly used her to make me a better husband and father. I truly don’t know what I would do without her; as she has been so good to me … much better than I have been to her. Our lives together are good. So, as we celebrate her “21st” birthday … ha ha ha … I look forward to many more birthdays with her.

 

Christmas Giving

Christmas … the season where “peace on earth and good will to all men” is “celebrated” … blew in and out like Hurricane Katrina this year for us. We still have the occasional bow blowing across the hallway in tumble weed fashion. Yet, it was somehow worth it, for we packed in two really meaningful long trips to see family … both as Thanksgiving and Christmas. We also had family blow into our “serene” harbor.

I would do it all just same again and again.

I would not do any of it anywhere close to it if we were still running the glitzy commercialized treadmill. Nope, we got off that quite some time ago. It’s been a rather interesting trek off the beaten dollar path into meaningful “presence” and away from glitzy “presents.” Our little girls are 3 and 1 this year, and though we’ve exiled Santa, he still keeps lurking around our bushes. Evidently ADT hasn’t picked up on him yet. As if our girls magical ages weren’t enough stuffing for our turkey of a season, our oldest turned 3 on the December 30th … thus a birthday to pack into Santa’s sleigh.

While we could have gone cold turkey on gifts altogether, we decided to play it flexible and shift the system in a better direction. One part of our family drew names this year, and another part is considering a similar move. Though, they played naughty instead of nice, some of our church people drew names as well (but in the end bought gifts for all kids). This Santa and his Mrs. Clause went through our clothes and books, while our little elf (which we are very proud of) went through her toys. We made a rather nice gift box for a needy mother and a humble donation to the Salvation Army. With our little elf’s birthday a few days around the Christmas corner we sent out party invitations with the express desire “Please, no gifts!” Most were nice instead of naughty on this one.

Now many of you might be thinking us to be rather naughty instead of nice! How can you do that to those little girls! Who ever heard of such madness!!!

Our little elves weren’t hurting this year at all for presents. Nope, not in the least. They were well taken care of. However, we trimmed the fat rather heavily. Many gifts to our family were financial, which were then placed into educational investment accounts for the girls. Hey, an 18 year old Barbie Doll is not going to do much towards helping to pay for college! In the end we are giving our girls the best gift of all … training them to be givers, investors, and producers before they are gluttonous, snot-nosed consumers.

Whiny Kids Are a Beautiful Vacation

Yesterday, I began my vacation … and I did it at McDonalds with whiny kids! Well, despite the failure of the “Happy Meal” to live up to its name … “I’m lovin‘ it.”

Family has been circum-navigating my heart every since I left for my trip. While I know that most of you out there are perfect … you humor me by reading my blog to gather some faint idea of what imperfection feels like. Often times my past relational boo-boos and blunders are thrust into my heart.

“How could I have even thought such a thing … much less have said it!?” “Man, what a idiot!” You remember the feel of finger nails scratching across the chalkboard? Yeah … then you understand my gut wrenching during these lovely trips down Memory Lane.

Then … and thankfully “then” comes … then I remember that I actually have children … which several years ago I never believed would grace my life … my less a wonderful darling of a wife.

At one time I entertained the fantasy of meeting who was to become my beautiful bride in high school or even college. Not any more! I would have ruined my chances from the first hello.

But look at us now … not perfect … but continuing to build a very beautiful friendship. What a mightifully wonderful God I serve! You see Salvation is not simply a one moment of conversion. It certainly includes that, but Salvation is so much more. Salvation following that one moment of conversion includes taking that idiot I was and molding and shaping me into the husband and father I am today … not that I’ve “arrived” or obtained mathematical perfection in husbandry or fatherhood. But I’m not where I was … and I’m also not where I’m going to be next month or even next year!

Salvation is not clean … its down right kids-gettin‘-the-ketchup-in-the-hair messy. The Holy Spirit is so marvelous. So … yeah … I’ll take a vacation with less than sit-up-and-shut-up-style kids any day. After all the presence of my kids is the tangible evidence that I’m on vacation from the power of the sin that so easily beset me … and I don’t plan on returning from that vacation! Yes … I can easily return to my former self and former mistakes … but the good news of the Gospel is that I don’t have to! A major part of the Gospel is the opportunity of being transformed from depravity into the righteousness of God. In a Ronald-McDonald-hair fashion … that is wild!

Slow-dancing to the Past Is Orientation for the Future

Sitting with my 2-year old at lunch, I found myself lost in thought and caught up in video clips about the Eliot Spitzer debacle. However, my thought bubble was busted by high-pitched demands for Elmo.

“Wanna watch Elmo!!!” Lips poked out and all.

You know, I’ve become increasingly desensitized to her cuteness lately, especially when the “terrible twos” are howling from sheep’s clothing and pony tails. Yet today, the pb & j painted on her face in ways reminiscent of bad make-up artistry made my heart melt.

So, if I’m going to concede to her wishes for an Elmo video clip on Google, then I’m going to at least choose the video!!! I love the sound of the Goo Goo Dolls, and their clip with Elmo is adorable. (However, I’m not too keen on the secularized self-esteem movement … another post for another day.)

The video ended before I could finish cleaning up. So I chose another … after all that is my prerogative!!! For whatever reason, I had a hankering to hear the late 80s hair band, Cinderella. Half way through their video to “Don’t Know What You Got (Till It’s Gone),” we found ourselves slow dancing to the music. I’m a sucker for sad songs, especially “love” songs.

Listening to the lyrics, while holding her, and while still thinking about Spitzer’s escapades really hit me. I can only wonder if he truly appreciates the gravity of what he’s done to his family, New York, his own career, and … helped to “contribute” to “Kristen’s” situation. I wonder would he have been as sorry if he had not gotten caught.

Then I began to appreciate the gravity of my responsibility to my beautiful gift from God I was holding. Apparently “Kristen” came from a bad home situation. Despite however willingly she chose her “occupation,” Spitzer was merely using her for his own pleasure. And despite whatever she thinks of that for her own life, that breaks my heart for my own daughter. I simply cannot entertain even one quickie of a minute’s worth of consideration that my daughter might be “used” one day. My heart breaks harder than Spitzer’s bank account has over the past few rendezvouses with his “sweetie.”

I don’t want to have to wait until she’s gone to truly know what I’ve got right now.

Enjoy the song:

Hanging Out

Introducing Our New Edition

She was born this morning at 9:10. She weighed in at 6lbs 13oz and measured 19 1/2″ long. My wife’s water broke at around 2:45 am. We got to the hospital here in South Carolina about 6:15. Around 6:30 she was dialated to 2 cm. About 2 hours later she was dialated to 5 cm. Dr. Feelgood came around with the epidural at this point. By the time he had finished administering it to her, she felt lots of pressure. They checked her … and she was dialated to a perfect 10cm!!! Unbelievable. After 4 pushes our new little edition was born at 9:10. She has been nursing like a champ. We could not have asked for better. God has truly blessed us, and we continue to pray for his protection and provision.

 

Understanding My Despair

You may or may not realize this, but I’ve been in despair for quite some time now. I’ve thought about going to the doctor, but I can’t see how that would do any good. When I talk to people, I can tell by their reactions that they simply don’t understand.

Ironically, this makes my despair more liveable. The root of my despair is my wife … well sort of. You see we’ve been married for five years now, and I am in utter despair … over the fact that other men will never have as good of a wife as I have in mine.

I see them in Wal-mart (which I proudly patron). I see them driving by. You know … I can tell they’re jealous. Why would they not be?! Afterall, she’s the brightest, prettiest, hottest (even when she’s pregnant), sweetest woman alive today.

And today, February 5th is her birthday.

Happy Birthday Baby!!!