This is an article I wrote in 2008 while attempting to win a boat cruise for my wife.
“I KNOW” ever since our first date on July 1st, 1985, I haven’t wanted to be without my wife, Amy. She is the only girl I ever dated and someone who saw something special in me, when I couldn’t.
“I KNOW” one of the best moments in my life was watching Amy come down the aisle twenty years ago on March 24th, 1989. If I had not married her, I am certain the girl I did marry would have lived in her shadow.
“I KNOW” I have never been more proud then when my wife made me a father twice. Fatherhood has a certain way of validating a man.
“I KNOW” there is nothing worse than losing a child, as my wife and I can attest. On May 4th, 2000, my seven-year-old daughter went to be with Jesus five days after being in a car accident.
“I KNOW” it could have been much worse because my wife and then nine-year-old son were also in the accident and both survived. It is true God never gives us more than He can handle.
“I KNOW” at one time the number of couples who get divorced after they lose a child was said to be as high as 80%. My wife and I are more concerned with staying true to our vows, so we will not add to this statistic.
“I KNOW” we adopted our now six-year-old daughter because we had more love to give. Adoption, in my opinion, is the perfect picture of how God loved us so much He made us it possible for us to be adopted as His kids.
“I KNOW” I was reminded of how precious life can be when Amy’s appendix ruptured last year. Every morning when I say goodbye, before I leave for work, I am reminded of how blessed I am to have her for another day.
“I KNOW” from personal experience how a song can so deeply help to heal your broken heart. Mercy Me’s song, “I Can Only Imagine” comforts us with the knowledge one day we will join our daughter in Heaven.
“I KNOW” I am a better person for having married Amy because she is someone who everyday challenges me to be a better person.
“The more you invest in a marriage, the more valuable it becomes.” Amy Grant
Swavel
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Heaven Applauds
If there were Olympic medals for listening, I wouldn’t even make the team never mind the podium. As far back as I can remember, my teachers would often comment on my tendency to daydream. There are moments, though, when my interest is captured by a specific event. I realize it may sound bizarre, but birds’ singing, especially in the morning, is one such event. Once you hear my rationale, you may better understand.
It was around 6 AM, on May 4th, 2000. The worst had happened, Alisha had just passed away and yet miraculously my wife and I were still breathing. We drove from the hospital to the Ronald McDonald House and pulled into the driveway completely shattered. All our hopes and dreams for Alisha’s life vanished in an instant. Her smile, her hugs and kisses, her giggle, her amazing personality would be forever locked in a picture frame or relegated to a video. Our interaction would be permanently severed.
As I turned off the car, it felt like I was turning off Alisha’s life. We felt helplessly out of control, then ‘it’ happened. The sound was amazing. Much to our surprise we witnessed a vast chorus of birds sharing a magnificent melody as they soared through the sun-kissed sky. God had sent us an extraordinary message to show us we were not alone. In that one brief moment, the Creator of the Universe comforted us as Heaven applauded.
It was around 6 AM, on March 21st, 2009, my wife called to tell me my brother-in-law had passed away at the age of thirty-eight. I refused to get out of bed, perhaps thinking I wouldn’t have to face it, but long before I made it to my big bay window there was that long familiar song. It was the enthusiastic sound of birds singing their unforgettable chorus. I had no words, just tears of pain for those of us left behind yet tears of joy for my brother-in-law because he was free and Heaven was applauding.
I now seem to hear the birds more clearly, because there was a time when I simply wasn’t listening. Perhaps while you’re going about your morning routine, you can spare a moment to listen for the birds. You may be surprised at the beauty they offer.
“Every time the birds sing Heaven’s melody is revealed to mankind.”
Swavel
It was around 6 AM, on May 4th, 2000. The worst had happened, Alisha had just passed away and yet miraculously my wife and I were still breathing. We drove from the hospital to the Ronald McDonald House and pulled into the driveway completely shattered. All our hopes and dreams for Alisha’s life vanished in an instant. Her smile, her hugs and kisses, her giggle, her amazing personality would be forever locked in a picture frame or relegated to a video. Our interaction would be permanently severed.
As I turned off the car, it felt like I was turning off Alisha’s life. We felt helplessly out of control, then ‘it’ happened. The sound was amazing. Much to our surprise we witnessed a vast chorus of birds sharing a magnificent melody as they soared through the sun-kissed sky. God had sent us an extraordinary message to show us we were not alone. In that one brief moment, the Creator of the Universe comforted us as Heaven applauded.
It was around 6 AM, on March 21st, 2009, my wife called to tell me my brother-in-law had passed away at the age of thirty-eight. I refused to get out of bed, perhaps thinking I wouldn’t have to face it, but long before I made it to my big bay window there was that long familiar song. It was the enthusiastic sound of birds singing their unforgettable chorus. I had no words, just tears of pain for those of us left behind yet tears of joy for my brother-in-law because he was free and Heaven was applauding.
I now seem to hear the birds more clearly, because there was a time when I simply wasn’t listening. Perhaps while you’re going about your morning routine, you can spare a moment to listen for the birds. You may be surprised at the beauty they offer.
“Every time the birds sing Heaven’s melody is revealed to mankind.”
Swavel
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Rare Breed
It has been said eyes are the window to the soul, well then, an office cubicle must be a close second. As an exterminator, I could tell in ten seconds or less who or what the owner cherished. Most people hang photographs of their family, pictures drawn from their kids, quotes, cartoons, box scores, menus, you name it. My belief is you could tell more about a person from a brief encounter with their cubicle, then a week’s worth of small talk.
Take my cubicle for instance. At first glance you see the prerequisite family pictures, coffee mugs here and there, piles of paper strewn around, and a wall I refer to as the REMEMBER ME wall. On this wall are four very important people who have passed away, and seeing their faces reminds me of the more important things in life.
One of those four people is, Al Detweiler. On my wall hangs a picture of Al, in his mid-thirties, looking rather debonair, as he stands behind a lectern. He was the kind of man if you get to meet once in your life you are lucky. He had a booming voice and brilliant white hair even chemo could not take from him. Al never seemed to have anything but kind words to say even when he was in pain. On December 3rd, 2005, at the age of 76, Al departed from our midst after a long battle with cancer.
Al was married for fifty-six years to his wife Kass and they were blessed with twelve children, three born to them, nine adopted. He was many things in his lifetime such as pastor, camp director, bus driver and self proclaimed servant of others. In the 1970’s, he was granted the prestigious honor of being named Boyertown Man of the Year.
On a personal note, Al believed in me even when I had nearly given up on myself, he looked at me as someone with a job to do. Maybe he only voiced it a few times, but there was just a sense about him that no one was a lost cause.
It has been said that some people are a blessing when they come to visit and others are a blessing when they leave. Al Detweiler was a rare case of someone who was a blessing when he came to see you and is still a blessing long after he departed.
This phrase, from a poem he had taped to the front of his Bible, sums him up best: “I do not ask that men may sound my praises or headlines spread my name abroad; I only pray that as I voice the message, hearts may find God.”
“The rarest and greatest breed of men is not those who leave us in awe, but rather those who leave us wanting more; more of their time, more of their love, more of their wisdom, more of them.”
Swavel
Take my cubicle for instance. At first glance you see the prerequisite family pictures, coffee mugs here and there, piles of paper strewn around, and a wall I refer to as the REMEMBER ME wall. On this wall are four very important people who have passed away, and seeing their faces reminds me of the more important things in life.
One of those four people is, Al Detweiler. On my wall hangs a picture of Al, in his mid-thirties, looking rather debonair, as he stands behind a lectern. He was the kind of man if you get to meet once in your life you are lucky. He had a booming voice and brilliant white hair even chemo could not take from him. Al never seemed to have anything but kind words to say even when he was in pain. On December 3rd, 2005, at the age of 76, Al departed from our midst after a long battle with cancer.
Al was married for fifty-six years to his wife Kass and they were blessed with twelve children, three born to them, nine adopted. He was many things in his lifetime such as pastor, camp director, bus driver and self proclaimed servant of others. In the 1970’s, he was granted the prestigious honor of being named Boyertown Man of the Year.
On a personal note, Al believed in me even when I had nearly given up on myself, he looked at me as someone with a job to do. Maybe he only voiced it a few times, but there was just a sense about him that no one was a lost cause.
It has been said that some people are a blessing when they come to visit and others are a blessing when they leave. Al Detweiler was a rare case of someone who was a blessing when he came to see you and is still a blessing long after he departed.
This phrase, from a poem he had taped to the front of his Bible, sums him up best: “I do not ask that men may sound my praises or headlines spread my name abroad; I only pray that as I voice the message, hearts may find God.”
“The rarest and greatest breed of men is not those who leave us in awe, but rather those who leave us wanting more; more of their time, more of their love, more of their wisdom, more of them.”
Swavel
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Medium Soda Please
Charlie Brown may be synonymous with losing baseball games, but at least his plight was fictitious, mine was real. My illustrious little league baseball career began with a two year winless streak.
All I wanted was to experience the sweet taste of victory. It had grown old being known as the guy who couldn’t win a game. To make matters worse, there was a local burger place that would give out free sodas to the players after every game; a medium for the winners and a small for the losers. Needless to say, I was tired of asking for a small. Even the guy behind the counter knew it was a small soda when he saw the maroon baseball shirt coming through the door.
Thank goodness the streak ended in my third year when I finally received my first medium soda. It was July something 1978. I still remember there was one out in the final inning and I had been put in right field mid-way through the game because of my marginal skills.
We were up by a run or two when the batter lofted a ball in my general direction. I remember saying to myself, “Oh please, just let me catch it.” Then the unbelievable happened, the ball landed in my glove. I heard the fans yelling at me to throw the ball to first base to double off the runner. Another miracle occurred; I beat the startled runner back to the bag.
A feeling of elation overcame me as I ran toward the infield like I had just won the World Series. For one night I was a winner. For one night something had finally gone my way. For one night I could walk up to the counter with my head held high and say, “medium soda please.”
“Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying when there seemed to be no hope at all.” ~ Dale Carnegie
Swavel
All I wanted was to experience the sweet taste of victory. It had grown old being known as the guy who couldn’t win a game. To make matters worse, there was a local burger place that would give out free sodas to the players after every game; a medium for the winners and a small for the losers. Needless to say, I was tired of asking for a small. Even the guy behind the counter knew it was a small soda when he saw the maroon baseball shirt coming through the door.
Thank goodness the streak ended in my third year when I finally received my first medium soda. It was July something 1978. I still remember there was one out in the final inning and I had been put in right field mid-way through the game because of my marginal skills.
We were up by a run or two when the batter lofted a ball in my general direction. I remember saying to myself, “Oh please, just let me catch it.” Then the unbelievable happened, the ball landed in my glove. I heard the fans yelling at me to throw the ball to first base to double off the runner. Another miracle occurred; I beat the startled runner back to the bag.
A feeling of elation overcame me as I ran toward the infield like I had just won the World Series. For one night I was a winner. For one night something had finally gone my way. For one night I could walk up to the counter with my head held high and say, “medium soda please.”
“Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying when there seemed to be no hope at all.” ~ Dale Carnegie
Swavel
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Ice In My Cup
You always remember the first time you bring your child home. Whether it be from the hospital or in my case from China. Birthdays remind me of great moments like these. Since, it is my second daughter’s eighth birthday today, the girl who loves me more than Narnia, I am dedicating this article to her.
The first time I met Sianna I was happy. I was glad God gave me my girl.
These are the words my daughter wanted me to start with when I wrote a story about her a few year ago. Her biggest concern seemed to be what I was thinking when I first met her. I just wanted to put her fears to rest and let her know I loved her and was happy she was my daughter long before I met her. The following is from that story.
On February 26th, 2003, the first day I saw my daughter, she was born in my heart. The first day I held her was June 2, 2003. At that moment, nothing else mattered; not the time we missed, not the miles traveled, or the time we had to wait. It all faded away. From the moment I embraced her in my arms, my heart was smiling.
As we headed home from our journey, all the problems of life felt far away. As I peered out the window with my wife and new daughter beside me, I took in the view. I was caught up in the breath-taking scenery as the clouds danced and raced against each other. All the while, I was enjoying the thought of bringing my daughter home to meet her brother.
Then the stewardess passed me a cup of soda with ice in it. Sitting there with the beverage in my hand only enhanced this serene moment. When I had finished my drink, the ice sitting in the bottom of the cup brought a smile to my soul. Normally leftover ice doesn't seem signficant, but as I looked at it on that particular day it signified something more. It reminded me of how God does not owe us the opportunity to have children, just like ice, they are a bonus. But children, like ice, certainly make life more enjoyable.
“The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning." Sianna’s favorite quote from Narnia
"Everyone's got to be for a child to have a home and love. I mean I don't know anyone who would be against that." ~Dave Thomas
Swavel
The first time I met Sianna I was happy. I was glad God gave me my girl.
These are the words my daughter wanted me to start with when I wrote a story about her a few year ago. Her biggest concern seemed to be what I was thinking when I first met her. I just wanted to put her fears to rest and let her know I loved her and was happy she was my daughter long before I met her. The following is from that story.
On February 26th, 2003, the first day I saw my daughter, she was born in my heart. The first day I held her was June 2, 2003. At that moment, nothing else mattered; not the time we missed, not the miles traveled, or the time we had to wait. It all faded away. From the moment I embraced her in my arms, my heart was smiling.
As we headed home from our journey, all the problems of life felt far away. As I peered out the window with my wife and new daughter beside me, I took in the view. I was caught up in the breath-taking scenery as the clouds danced and raced against each other. All the while, I was enjoying the thought of bringing my daughter home to meet her brother.
Then the stewardess passed me a cup of soda with ice in it. Sitting there with the beverage in my hand only enhanced this serene moment. When I had finished my drink, the ice sitting in the bottom of the cup brought a smile to my soul. Normally leftover ice doesn't seem signficant, but as I looked at it on that particular day it signified something more. It reminded me of how God does not owe us the opportunity to have children, just like ice, they are a bonus. But children, like ice, certainly make life more enjoyable.
“The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning." Sianna’s favorite quote from Narnia
"Everyone's got to be for a child to have a home and love. I mean I don't know anyone who would be against that." ~Dave Thomas
Swavel
Monday, August 2, 2010
A Run In With Compassion
Never in my life, can I recall having such a pleasant unpleasant experience as I did a few summers ago while I was an exterminator.
It was around 9 a.m. while driving the bug truck on a rainy, summer day. I was late for a job and to make up some time I cut through a parking lot. As I came around the bend in the road, directly in front of me was an SUV. Unfortunately when I attempted to brake, I hydroplaned and tagged the SUV’s driver’s side rear door.
We both pulled into a side lot to survey the damage. I took a deep breath waiting for the inevitable, an encounter with the irate driver. To my surprise, he was polite and cordial. There was no finger-pointing, screaming, or swearing. At first we were both a bit tentative, but when I simply admitted it was my fault, the tension eased. We then took care of the red tape, shook hands, and went our separate ways.
People tend to show their true nature when things go wrong and they become inconvenienced. The driver of the SUV had every reason to be frustrated and angry, but if he was, it didn’t show. He demonstrated kindness and compassion. I only hope that I would display the same gracious character if the roles were reversed.
“Life’s challenges are not supposed to paralyze you; they’re supposed to help you discover who you are.” ~ Bernice Johnson Reagon
Swavel
It was around 9 a.m. while driving the bug truck on a rainy, summer day. I was late for a job and to make up some time I cut through a parking lot. As I came around the bend in the road, directly in front of me was an SUV. Unfortunately when I attempted to brake, I hydroplaned and tagged the SUV’s driver’s side rear door.
We both pulled into a side lot to survey the damage. I took a deep breath waiting for the inevitable, an encounter with the irate driver. To my surprise, he was polite and cordial. There was no finger-pointing, screaming, or swearing. At first we were both a bit tentative, but when I simply admitted it was my fault, the tension eased. We then took care of the red tape, shook hands, and went our separate ways.
People tend to show their true nature when things go wrong and they become inconvenienced. The driver of the SUV had every reason to be frustrated and angry, but if he was, it didn’t show. He demonstrated kindness and compassion. I only hope that I would display the same gracious character if the roles were reversed.
“Life’s challenges are not supposed to paralyze you; they’re supposed to help you discover who you are.” ~ Bernice Johnson Reagon
Swavel
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