There are certain times in life when we all need a little reminder to look forward instead of backwards. Fortunately for me, mine came from a kind soul by the name of Sandra Aldrich.
It was about seven years ago when I met her at a writer’s conference in Colorado. She had been assigned a table for the sole purpose of encouraging aspiring writers before they presented their works to editors from publishing houses. Sandra is diverse talent in that she is a speaker, writer, and was senior editor for Focus on the Family and has a knack for being pleasantly honest. I remember her crying with me after she read “The Wedding” which speaks of the loss of my daughter. She then revealed to me that she had lost her husband, Don, to cancer some twenty years before, when her two children were not yet teenagers.
Later that weekend, she asked me to sit at her table for dinner and shared a story with me that changed my perspective and helped me turn a corner. She could sense that I was still not over the loss of my daughter because I felt as if God was nowhere to be seen and had forgotten about me, causing me not to be able to move forward. It was then she shared a story with me about her son who was seriously ill when he was young. So in an effort to ease his pain she gave him a bath, but he was still inconsolable so instead of comforting him with words, she wrapped him in a towel and just held him in her arms. She then turned to me and said Aaron, “that is what God is doing with you right now, He has just wrapped His arms around you and is holding you tight.” Her words made sense to me because that was the only action I could understand.
Since then I talk to her several times a year via e-mail, because I cherish her wisdom and wit so much. There is something very admirable about Sandra and the way she lives her life with a forward thinking mentality. So, about a year ago I asked her for a picture of her husband so I could hang it on my Remember Me wall in my cubicle at work as a way of honoring Sandra. In the picture her husband, Don, is smiling, while he has an arm around his preteen son and daughter. Meanwhile, in the background hangs a paper butterfly on the front door barely visible to the human eye. He passed away from cancer months later leaving Sandra without a husband and the kids without a dad. When I look at this picture, I am struck by how like the butterfly, Sandra chose to make good out of a very difficult situation and pressed forward through the pain, like a caterpillar does. Sandra will not tell you this but she is a very special and rare person, because she doesn’t look back and blame the past. Every time I see her husband, Don, smile I am inspired not to give up.
Just recently Sandra shared this e-mail with me:
What fun to think about our eternity to catch up on stories in heaven. And I'll get to meet your sweet little girl and you can meet my husband. If you need directions to my place, my human mind offers these: My cabin is way in the back, set against a green hillside, and surrounded by flowering dogwood trees and eternally blooming violets.
Life can be hard, but as my friend, Sandra, has taught me, it never hurts at times to have little cabin fever and know there are better things, people and places to see and enjoy.
“Often, the best way to look at life is through the front windshield, not the rear view mirror.” ~ Steve Karabatos
Swavel
Monday, May 23, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Nine Innings
The other day, I dusted this article off and found it was appropriate for a warm day just begging for nine innings to be played on it. Baseball is a way of redemption for me that allows me to reminisce, enjoy the present and ponder the future all at the same time. It was written some seven years ago, so keep in mind this was the spring of 2004.
1st Inning
“My son plays third base,” I proudly exclaim to any of my friends who would ask. Jordan is thirteen and playing baseball for his school. Quite frankly, I’m just thrilled that he can walk and the fact that he plays any type of position is a bonus. Only four years, before I wasn’t even sure if he would live or even survive after he sustained injuries in a car accident. Lucky dad.
2nd Inning
I can remember this past spring at one of his games as he came to the plate and after a few pitches he swung and connected and the ball sailed over the left fielder’s head. I was so proud of him. In my mind, it was a miracle he was even alive and now he was running. Deep inside me, as I waved him into second from the first base coach’s box, all I could think about was that’s my kid. Proud dad.
3rd Inning
It was just the other month that I was reading an article about a teenage baseball player who had suffered a serious injury affecting his ability to play for which the father blamed himself. Before the accident, both his parents held out such high hopes that one day he might be a professional ball player. As I read the article further, it was quite apparent that the parents were not dealing well with the loss of this dream as the mother blamed the father and the father felt absolutely guilty. Meanwhile, the son continued to attempt to play but was rendered less than ordinary. Trying to find a bright spot the article ended with the boy stating that if baseball did not work out his second choice would be the computer field. Distressed dad. Smart kid.
4th Inning
A few years ago I was attending one of my son’s fall baseball games. During the game the pitcher on the other team was struggling and the coach, who happened to be his dad, went out to discuss the situation with his son. What transpired next still perplexes me to this day. The father was quite upset and became very enraged with the situation and asked for his son to hand him the ball. The son flung the ball in anger in the dad’s general direction. The boy then proceeded to run as fast as his fifth grade legs would carry him into right field. Subsequently, the father used a few choice words and insulted his son’s manhood and proceeded back into the dugout. Misguided dad.
5th Inning
In my own personal baseball career, my dad never coached me on any of my teams, but as far back as I can recall he has come to almost every game I have ever been in. My most cherished memory is just playing catch with my dad in the backyard as a kid. He would usually say, when asked, that he didn’t have the time, but if I would get his baseball glove out of the bottom of his closet he would try to fit it in. The way my dad made time for me was more important to me than whether I was any good at the sport. Discerning dad.
6th Inning
A couple of weeks ago, I finally experienced something that I had never done in my entire softball career. I hit a homerun over the outfield fence. It felt good but not as fantastic as I thought it would. About 45 minutes later, the sky got very dark and because of the threat of lightning the umpire postponed the game. So, as I drove home under the gray conditions I felt somewhat mixed emotions. I was happy, but disappointed because my son and family were not there to witness the event. Funny how some things don’t seem as important if you don’t have your family there to share it. Melancholy dad.
7th Inning
A friend and fellow softball player once told me something very profound that I have never forgotten. We were talking after a softball game in which we suffered a heart breaking loss. It was a game we should have won by all rights, but due to the fact that it was too dark to see we could have rightfully protested and probably gotten the win. But as Rob and I sat there on that wooden bench we did not discuss such things. I can remember Rob turning to me, “well at least you still have your family to go home to.” Those words hit me right up the middle of my heart. Wise dad.
8th Inning
All Abner Doubleday did was to invent a game that consisted of four bases, a round object and a stick, for this, he is lauded as the father of baseball. Yet, a dad has the ability to do something of much greater importance. For instance, every time a dad takes his child fishing, to a movie, reads a book to them, takes them to a ballgame, or plays a video game with them he is creating a moment of significance in their life. By putting yourself on their level, you show genuine interest that will stand the test of time. Thoughtful dad.
9th Inning
Needless to say, the position my son plays or the fact that he plays baseball is not important at all. I am proud of Jordan because he is my son and have been since the first moment I cradled him in my arms and became his dad. Quite frankly, I’m just thrilled that he can walk and the fact that he plays any type of position is a bonus. And if you ask me now, I would gladly tell you with a big grin, “My son plays anywhere they need him.” Ecstatic dad.
“Things could be worse. Suppose your errors were counted and published every day, like those of a baseball player.” ~ Author Unknown
Simply yours, Swavel
1st Inning
“My son plays third base,” I proudly exclaim to any of my friends who would ask. Jordan is thirteen and playing baseball for his school. Quite frankly, I’m just thrilled that he can walk and the fact that he plays any type of position is a bonus. Only four years, before I wasn’t even sure if he would live or even survive after he sustained injuries in a car accident. Lucky dad.
2nd Inning
I can remember this past spring at one of his games as he came to the plate and after a few pitches he swung and connected and the ball sailed over the left fielder’s head. I was so proud of him. In my mind, it was a miracle he was even alive and now he was running. Deep inside me, as I waved him into second from the first base coach’s box, all I could think about was that’s my kid. Proud dad.
3rd Inning
It was just the other month that I was reading an article about a teenage baseball player who had suffered a serious injury affecting his ability to play for which the father blamed himself. Before the accident, both his parents held out such high hopes that one day he might be a professional ball player. As I read the article further, it was quite apparent that the parents were not dealing well with the loss of this dream as the mother blamed the father and the father felt absolutely guilty. Meanwhile, the son continued to attempt to play but was rendered less than ordinary. Trying to find a bright spot the article ended with the boy stating that if baseball did not work out his second choice would be the computer field. Distressed dad. Smart kid.
4th Inning
A few years ago I was attending one of my son’s fall baseball games. During the game the pitcher on the other team was struggling and the coach, who happened to be his dad, went out to discuss the situation with his son. What transpired next still perplexes me to this day. The father was quite upset and became very enraged with the situation and asked for his son to hand him the ball. The son flung the ball in anger in the dad’s general direction. The boy then proceeded to run as fast as his fifth grade legs would carry him into right field. Subsequently, the father used a few choice words and insulted his son’s manhood and proceeded back into the dugout. Misguided dad.
5th Inning
In my own personal baseball career, my dad never coached me on any of my teams, but as far back as I can recall he has come to almost every game I have ever been in. My most cherished memory is just playing catch with my dad in the backyard as a kid. He would usually say, when asked, that he didn’t have the time, but if I would get his baseball glove out of the bottom of his closet he would try to fit it in. The way my dad made time for me was more important to me than whether I was any good at the sport. Discerning dad.
6th Inning
A couple of weeks ago, I finally experienced something that I had never done in my entire softball career. I hit a homerun over the outfield fence. It felt good but not as fantastic as I thought it would. About 45 minutes later, the sky got very dark and because of the threat of lightning the umpire postponed the game. So, as I drove home under the gray conditions I felt somewhat mixed emotions. I was happy, but disappointed because my son and family were not there to witness the event. Funny how some things don’t seem as important if you don’t have your family there to share it. Melancholy dad.
7th Inning
A friend and fellow softball player once told me something very profound that I have never forgotten. We were talking after a softball game in which we suffered a heart breaking loss. It was a game we should have won by all rights, but due to the fact that it was too dark to see we could have rightfully protested and probably gotten the win. But as Rob and I sat there on that wooden bench we did not discuss such things. I can remember Rob turning to me, “well at least you still have your family to go home to.” Those words hit me right up the middle of my heart. Wise dad.
8th Inning
All Abner Doubleday did was to invent a game that consisted of four bases, a round object and a stick, for this, he is lauded as the father of baseball. Yet, a dad has the ability to do something of much greater importance. For instance, every time a dad takes his child fishing, to a movie, reads a book to them, takes them to a ballgame, or plays a video game with them he is creating a moment of significance in their life. By putting yourself on their level, you show genuine interest that will stand the test of time. Thoughtful dad.
9th Inning
Needless to say, the position my son plays or the fact that he plays baseball is not important at all. I am proud of Jordan because he is my son and have been since the first moment I cradled him in my arms and became his dad. Quite frankly, I’m just thrilled that he can walk and the fact that he plays any type of position is a bonus. And if you ask me now, I would gladly tell you with a big grin, “My son plays anywhere they need him.” Ecstatic dad.
“Things could be worse. Suppose your errors were counted and published every day, like those of a baseball player.” ~ Author Unknown
Simply yours, Swavel
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Smell the Coffee
What I love about coffee is it is part sedative, part motivator, and now part fund raiser all at the same time.
The reason I started this blog last May was to raise awareness about the adoption my family and I were pursuing at the time. Adoption is not for the faint at heart because it takes a continuous effort of filling out paperwork, meeting the country’s criteria, and paying fees when they become due. Overall, a very overwhelming process in which you can easily lose focus and heart. Yet, when the end result is finally realized, it becomes well worth the fight.
So, if the spirit leads, there is an interesting way for you to join us in our adoption journey. It’s real simple and you needn’t even leave your house. Just sit back in your computer chair, click on the JUST LOVE icon and purchase a bag of coffee. When you do my family gets $5 sent directly to our adoption agency, so everybody wins. You get a great cup of coffee and we get closer to bringing a child to their forever home.
I know a small thing like this may appear to have little effect on the big picture, but I disagree and so does Jesus. He said in Matthew 10:42, “And if you give even a cup of cold water to one of the least of my followers, you will surely be rewarded.”
That reminds me of the time this past winter when God used this verse on me. I was at a local Wal-Mart and it must have been about twenty degrees outside when I walked past the Salvation Army guy going in and then fifteen minutes later, walked past his partner on the way out. Earlier that day, I asked God to use me and the answer now seemed obvious. If I could not give out cold water, how about hot coffee for two freezing guys who were doing something noble. Somehow, their simple thank you and God bless you did more to warm my reluctant heart than the coffee actually did in warming them. It felt right to act on something instead of just driving away and thinking, “oh well, they’ll be warm soon enough,” when I possessed the ability to change their situation instantly.
“No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.” ~Aesop
Swavel
The reason I started this blog last May was to raise awareness about the adoption my family and I were pursuing at the time. Adoption is not for the faint at heart because it takes a continuous effort of filling out paperwork, meeting the country’s criteria, and paying fees when they become due. Overall, a very overwhelming process in which you can easily lose focus and heart. Yet, when the end result is finally realized, it becomes well worth the fight.
So, if the spirit leads, there is an interesting way for you to join us in our adoption journey. It’s real simple and you needn’t even leave your house. Just sit back in your computer chair, click on the JUST LOVE icon and purchase a bag of coffee. When you do my family gets $5 sent directly to our adoption agency, so everybody wins. You get a great cup of coffee and we get closer to bringing a child to their forever home.
I know a small thing like this may appear to have little effect on the big picture, but I disagree and so does Jesus. He said in Matthew 10:42, “And if you give even a cup of cold water to one of the least of my followers, you will surely be rewarded.”
That reminds me of the time this past winter when God used this verse on me. I was at a local Wal-Mart and it must have been about twenty degrees outside when I walked past the Salvation Army guy going in and then fifteen minutes later, walked past his partner on the way out. Earlier that day, I asked God to use me and the answer now seemed obvious. If I could not give out cold water, how about hot coffee for two freezing guys who were doing something noble. Somehow, their simple thank you and God bless you did more to warm my reluctant heart than the coffee actually did in warming them. It felt right to act on something instead of just driving away and thinking, “oh well, they’ll be warm soon enough,” when I possessed the ability to change their situation instantly.
“No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.” ~Aesop
Swavel
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