Unwanted

Right behind "I love you," the second most powerful phrase one can utter is “I want you.” 

 

Anyone who has ever viewed a Western has seen one of these dubious posters with a notorious outlaw’s mug gracing the tattered and worn declaration.  Although few would choose to have their face attached to such a terrible headline I believe we as human beings fear the alternative even more, which is to be unwanted. 

Especially now with the economic downturn no one wants to hear, “your services are no longer required.”  How awful to feel like you are no longer an asset or no longer needed. Perhaps, no fault of their own, it still doesn’t replace the hurt of losing a job and feeling unwanted.  No one wants to hear those dreaded words you’re fired, that Donald Trump has become so synonymous for using.

The fear of being unwanted knows no social boundaries.  For example, Tom Brady once stated how deeply he had been hurt when it took the New England Patriots six rounds to draft him in 2000. During an interview, he once mentioned that no one wants to feel like, “ maybe nobody wants you.”  If a three time Super Bowl champion felt that way one time in his life it leaves us all susceptible. 

Who in their right mind likes to be the guy or girl who hears, “it’s not you it’s me.”  Although a polite way break up, the message is clear that someone no longer wants to be exclusive.  People in general hate to be moved on from or left in the dust.

My daughter, Sianna found further evidence of this need to be wanted just the other week.  While she was surfing the web she discovered a survey on a fictional book she was reading about dragons.  The survey was trying help you decipher what kind you would be according to the book.   The question that grabbed my attention was this one, “do you ever feel unwanted or not part of the group?”  Interesting how the author found the need to ask this question.  Leading me to believe how universal the struggle to be wanted truly has become.

On a personal note, there were times in my childhood when I felt like I didn’t belong either.   Whether it was my own annoying adolescent tendencies or just the way life can be sometimes, I still hated that feeling like I wasn’t good enough.  On more than one occasion I can remember sitting downstairs with my grandmother or sitting by myself in a room listening in on the adult conversations while the other kids played in another room.  I felt like I was on the outside looking in and felt left out.

Now, as an adult I believe this can be a powerful tool if used properly.  Within reason it is good to belong and to go out of our way to make others feel wanted as well.  God put the need to be wanted deep inside us because if we stay to ourselves, it seldom is good.  He even said in Genesis, “It is not good for man to be alone.”

I speak only for myself, but I know I need to take more time for people who seem lonely.  For example, what I have learned about not feeling wanted helps me as a parent be more willing to make time to play and do more things with my kids.  It helps me want to do more around the house and also try to listen better and not grunt at my wife.

Mother Teresa once said, "Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody; I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat."

Swavel

Love Well

“If you want to show someone you love them simply hold their hand.”

(Right click to hear companion song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NHZZyNGvOVY&feature=player_detailpage then click on blue link)

                                                                                  

An old hymn writer once used this phrase, “emptied himself of all but love” to describe Jesus love for us.  It is my sincere hope and desire to love my wife that well.

There are several instances that best remind me of true love in my relationship with my wife, Amy, and they all involve holding hands.

It was July 1^st, 1985 and I asked Amy to go with me to see the Orioles play baseball in Baltimore as a part of my high school graduation gift.  During the game I asked her to be my girlfriend.

The only two other things I remember about that evening were the Orioles getting killed by the Detroit Tigers and the ride home.  During the two hour ride home from Baltimore I took a chance and I slid my hand into hers.  To this day, it was one of the best moments of my life.  Up to that point in my seventeen year existence most girls didn’t seem to notice me and the others just plain weren’t interested.  She seemed to find something of value in me no one else could see, including me.  In summary, my baseball team lost, but I won.

On another night, my then girlfriend, Amy and I were watching the Pittsburgh Steelers play football together when I learned a most memorable lesson.  On that particular evening, I made the mistake of holding her hand during a football play.  A player from the Steelers made a big play and Amy squeezed my hand tightly like a vise grip.  Then if my memory serves me correctly she jumped up and started cheering and yelling at her “boys’.  Initially I was unprepared for all of this but I believe by halftime I decided just to lay my hand on her shoulder, so I could get out of the way when necessary.  

On that particular day I quickly learned that not all situations would allow me to hold this girl’s hand and that I must select the right moments.  Amy showed me that sometimes you have to pick and choose the right situation to be affectionate.  That night I learned to hold hands from a distance.

On March 24^th, 1989 I married my best friend, Amy.   To this day I can still recall standing at the front of the church where we got married.  As the music played I remember my wife coming down the aisle and the elation I felt as if I had won the lottery that this girl would chose to be my wife.  And she could not have looked more beautiful to me.  Funny thing, Amy told me later, she couldn’t see me because she was not wearing her glasses.   

To me at that very moment all was right in my world.  Then, she came up to me and her dad gave her to me and we held hands.  Can’t say I remember much else after that moment.  We were facing the pastor and holding hands saying nothing. Amy showed me she was all in.  I learned on that rainy day in March to enjoy those moments when you are deeply and madly in love, as a reminder for times when you are not.

In our nearly twenty four years of marriage, my wife and I have seen a lot together. In those years we have known both good and bad, happy and sad, and everything else in between.   We experienced the birth of two of our children and the adoption of two others.  We have even flown half way around the world twice together to bring two of our kids into our family.  We have been to our share of doctor’s offices, hospitals, ball games, church meetings, school activities, playing board games, vacations, birthdays, holidays and other stuff families do together.  We did all we could together throughout the years and when the moment permitted, I would hold her hand. 

 

Anyone can love and be loved when times are good, but even when it hurt we stayed together.   We even held hands when we buried our daughter together. In the aftermath, my wife and I suffered through this painful tragedy together the best we knew how, the kind that often ends in divorce, and hung on for dear life.  Yet, even though times when I didn’t always love well, we stayed together till the feeling of love came back again. 

Although we must pick and choose when to hold hands I believe it is critical to hold hands as much as possible or just cuddle up together, because with love silence speaks louder than words.  Try it, hold hands for about five to ten minutes a day while you have a cup of coffee on the sofa or the porch and you’ll find your spouse is someone you want to be with not avoid.

Granted, I concede that love is much more complex than just holding hands, but I am convinced that if we as married couples spent more time holding hands and less arguing we would grow closer together in love, than growing further apart. Love just wants to be near the person they love, they don’t want to nitpick, but just be with them. 

So, does holding hands solve all our problems, definitely not because sometimes, we don’t hold hands at the time because well we have had enough of each other.  But, if my wife, Amy and I were both to search our hearts and you asked us how we would like to end our day, it would be next to each other, more times than not holding hands, watching a movie or doing something together. 

“Holding hands conveys what mere words were never designed to do.”

 Swavel

In Good Hands

 

Like a good firm hand shake be someone who puts others at ease.

 

 

It was approximately this time one year ago when my family and I boarded a plane headed for China.  The reason we had flown half way around the world was so we could finalize the adoption of our youngest daughter, Lia, and subsequently bring her home.  

My wife, Amy, nine year old daughter, Sianna and myself knew this would not be a vacation, however we were pleasantly surprised to know God was along for the ride.  Over three years of prayer and much faith had brought us to China. However, you can prepare the best you know how, but on a trip like this you must place your trust and sometimes even your very life in the hands of others.

I believe God knew long before we ever arrived in China that we would need many special people to help us out on our journey. Here is the story of one of those special people we were so very blessed to have in our lives, if only for a week.  His name was Mr. Wong, a middle aged Chinese man with a big smile, a good firm hand shake and no idea how to speak English.  Yet his actions spoke directly into our souls.

Our initial meeting was nothing auspicious, but rather tense and uncomfortable.  It was the third day of our adventure when we arrived at the train station in Tianjin and were greeted by our translator, Linda and her driver, Mr. Wong.  We then proceeded to the parking garage where we were quite literally squished into the backseat of a Honda Accord.  This begged the question, where would our newest daughter, Lia sit the next day when we picked her up at the orphanage?

Consequently, Amy and I began to discuss what we should do next.  Since there was no other apparent option, I needed to address the situation. So, after a long pause, I asked Linda if she could relay our concern to Mr. Wong with the hope he could get a van for the next day.  In China doing such a thing could be misconstrued as arrogant, or possibly even dishonorable. 

  

Therefore with great reservations, I listened as she asked Mr. Wong my dubious question.  He said little, but seemed a little disturbed.  Before we got out of the car Linda gave us the impression that Mr. Wong would see what he could do.  Some men rise to the occasion when they are challenged and I was hoping Mr. Wong would not disappoint.

The next day with a big smile, Mr. Wong arrived at our hotel with a used van that had plenty of room to accommodate.  I was pleased.  Then, being the skilled driver he was, he weaved his way through the crazy traffic that is driving in China. You know the kind of traffic that makes rush hour in New York City look like a joke.  

  

Throughout the five days or so we spent together with him and Linda we grew to love this man’s company.  Many people we ran into were cordial, but not personal like Mr. Wong, who happened to be a grandfather.  He gave me the impression that he loved my girls almost as much as me.  He even went out of his way to talk to them. He made Lia feel especially comfortable by speaking in Chinese to her and treating both the girls with kindness.  On one occasion when Sianna’s luggage got caught in a revolving door he came running to her aide.   He even offered me a cigarette as a kind gesture one day. Security cannot be understated when you are half a world away from your comfort zone and often at times literally scared out of your mind. Mr. Wong made us feel safe.

My favorite Mr. Wong moment had to be the day He and Linda took us to a park that resembled Who-ville, taken directly from a Dr. Seuss book.  We had been having a tough time being in a smog filled city of eight million or so people.  We felt like we were out of sorts and out of our element.  Our newly blended family needed a day to catch our breath and relax.  During the day Mr. Wong rode on the rides with the girls when they need an adult and then carried Lia’s teddy bear in her back pack as we walked through the park.  It couldn’t have come at a better time and was just what we needed.

Knowing Mr. Wong and Linda was a shared experience that my wife and two girls will always cherish.  As we said goodbye at the airport Mr. Wong bought us a whole bag of special Chinese treats to remember him by.  Even now I can still see him.   There he is smiling, standing next to  Linda waving goodbye to us with tears in his eyes, till we could no longer see him. 

A cherished memory of how one person can make a difference.  God knew we were in good hands with Mr. Wong and I’m so glad he did. 

 

Kindness is a language we should all learn to speak fluently.

Swavel

Cracked Mug

Nothing lasts forever, however many of us live as if we are the exception to this rule.

 

Nothing lasts forever is far easier said than done.  Case in point, I use a ceramic Starbucks mug every morning to drink my coffee at work.   It is the perfect size that fits my hand just right and has become a part of my daily routine. The other ceramic mugs my kids gave me I display on my desk and use them sparingly, so as not to break them. 

Herein lays my quandary.  The other day while traveling through the hallway my mug suffered a most unfortunate turn of events; I dropped it. It was only a foot or so high, but it hit the floor.  Fearing for the worst, I looked for evidence that it was broken.  Upon a thorough inspection I did not find any evident cracks and thought I was in the clear. 

However, a few days later to my utter disbelief, I discovered a crack.  So, I did a quick acid test to see if it was still serviceable as I filled it with water and it held.  Then to make sure I filled it with coffee and microwaved it.  I discovered that it leaked slightly if I left it in too long.  So, although damaged I am still using it till it won’t hold anymore. 

Subsequently that crack has become my mug’s prized feature.   It is even become more symbolic to me than the Starbucks’ logo emblazoned on the side.  It reminds me of my humanness.  Newsflash--- my life is like a mug with a crack in it.  One day that crack will get the best of me and I will get put out of service. 

In my opinion, I believe we all have cracks or flaws because God wants them there, so He can get the glory.  Paul says in the Bible that he prayed to God and asked Him to remove a difficulty in his life, perhaps a flaw.  However, it was never taken away, so Paul just learned to rely on God all the more.

We are all flawed.  For instance, I can’t assemble anything to save my life.  Instructions look like gibberish to me.  For example, a few Sundays ago my friend, Dave offered to help me assemble my new propane grill that came with a fourteen step instruction manual.  Thank goodness he did help because I was starting to go into panic mode. However, with his help we had it assembled forty five minutes later.

Just to be clear having a crack like a mug is far different than being cracked like an egg.  For instance, the other day I accidentally dropped a bag which was holding a carton of eggs.  Although it was only a foot off the ground I made a mess breaking six of them and immediately had to throw them away. 

In life, I have come across people who feel as worthless as those cracked eggs and believe they have no value anymore.  Instead I believe we are more like a cracked mug that is still of great service.  The point being I will take my crack in my mug and learn to use my flaws, like Paul did to honor God.

Do your best and forget the rest, cracks and all.

Swavel