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
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
No Mere Words
Someone once commissioned me to explain the differing emotions families experience when involved in ‘the gift of life’ (organ donation). How do you properly capture the sentiment of such a powerfully emotional event? The deep agony and heartache endured by one family and yet, on the other side there must be joy and elation, mixed with some apprehension. For years, I have tried to sum it up without success because there simply are no mere words in the modern dictionary to sum it up. But, because I am a parent of a donor, here is my best attempt.
Easter best sums it up. Imagine on Good Friday, two thousand years ago, how God the Father must have felt when He looked down at His Son, Jesus, being tortured, beaten, and mistreated, just so we could have a relationship with Him. The Father signed off on His Son so all the Universe could have the gift of eternal life. It was so painful God the Father turned away. It is my belief God choose to do what had to be done, regardless of how much it would cost, knowing that some would reject his gift, He did it anyway, even though we did nothing to be worthy of such a gift.
If you have the ability to save a life within your grasp or increase the quality of someone’s life, you should do it. Take the opportunity to give in such a way that you cannot be thanked, like the God the Father gave us through Jesus on Good Friday. Give where there are no mere words to thank you, just simply because if you were the parent of a child who needed that organ you would want someone to do the same for you. As I write this, it still hurts when I think of the pain it caused my family and I to give, but I take some comfort now in the fact that another family did not have to mourn that day because of my daughter’s precious gift. To this day, I still marvel at the strength my wife displayed in honoring my decision despite the pain it personally caused her.
Actually, what drove me most to allow my daughter to be donor was she loved to give and I believed she needed to leave with dignity doing something she loved. I had chosen to be an organ donor on my driver’s license for years before the accident and believed so much in it that if it was good enough for me it was good enough to allow my daughter to do the same.
The gift of life, for me, at least ultimately, is all about getting an opportunity to help another human being, although there is no guarantee that the organs will even take. So, we need not lose heart if the recipient’s body rejects the organs. Life is messy and doesn’t always work the way we would like. As a donor’s parent I don’t want to put undue pressure on those who receive organs that can be an overbearing weight. I never met my daughter’s recipients, in part, because they have the right to live their life without pressure from me.
One day I hope to find the words to express my sincere thanks when I see my Savior face to face. Maybe I will have no mere words, but at least I can simply mouth a thank you. Until that day, I hope to live my life in such a way to show my eternal gratitude for what the God of the Universe did for me and all of us that remarkable weekend so many years ago.
“God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well.” ~ Voltaire
Swavel
Easter best sums it up. Imagine on Good Friday, two thousand years ago, how God the Father must have felt when He looked down at His Son, Jesus, being tortured, beaten, and mistreated, just so we could have a relationship with Him. The Father signed off on His Son so all the Universe could have the gift of eternal life. It was so painful God the Father turned away. It is my belief God choose to do what had to be done, regardless of how much it would cost, knowing that some would reject his gift, He did it anyway, even though we did nothing to be worthy of such a gift.
If you have the ability to save a life within your grasp or increase the quality of someone’s life, you should do it. Take the opportunity to give in such a way that you cannot be thanked, like the God the Father gave us through Jesus on Good Friday. Give where there are no mere words to thank you, just simply because if you were the parent of a child who needed that organ you would want someone to do the same for you. As I write this, it still hurts when I think of the pain it caused my family and I to give, but I take some comfort now in the fact that another family did not have to mourn that day because of my daughter’s precious gift. To this day, I still marvel at the strength my wife displayed in honoring my decision despite the pain it personally caused her.
Actually, what drove me most to allow my daughter to be donor was she loved to give and I believed she needed to leave with dignity doing something she loved. I had chosen to be an organ donor on my driver’s license for years before the accident and believed so much in it that if it was good enough for me it was good enough to allow my daughter to do the same.
The gift of life, for me, at least ultimately, is all about getting an opportunity to help another human being, although there is no guarantee that the organs will even take. So, we need not lose heart if the recipient’s body rejects the organs. Life is messy and doesn’t always work the way we would like. As a donor’s parent I don’t want to put undue pressure on those who receive organs that can be an overbearing weight. I never met my daughter’s recipients, in part, because they have the right to live their life without pressure from me.
One day I hope to find the words to express my sincere thanks when I see my Savior face to face. Maybe I will have no mere words, but at least I can simply mouth a thank you. Until that day, I hope to live my life in such a way to show my eternal gratitude for what the God of the Universe did for me and all of us that remarkable weekend so many years ago.
“God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well.” ~ Voltaire
Swavel
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
The Wedding
This week is particularly bittersweet because it marks what would be my daughter, Alisha’s, 18th birthday. Although, she is not here, I have discovered it is best to choose to be happy for her where she now resides. Read further and you’ll see what I mean.
As any father can attest, the idea of your daughter’s wedding is tremendously bittersweet. Alisha’s day had arrived. She had given her heart to another man and it wasn’t long after he asked her to stay with him forever.
She was too young, I thought, along with so many other reasons why she was not ready. Truthfully, I was the one who was unprepared for the changes about to take place. It was undeniably painful, but I couldn’t let my feelings get in the way for this was the beginning of something beautiful for her.
There are so many moments I would miss and countless memories to cherish. Gone were the days when she would greet me, as I would come home from work. I could picture those mischievous blue eyes and her untamed tawny-brown hair, tousled from yet another day of child’s play. I would miss our spontaneous car ride conversations, our evening walks, and the nights I would gently hug her until she drifted off to sleep. These simple pleasures of everyday life had become memories all too soon. It wasn’t about me however, I had to think of her, her and the groom.
Accepting my relationship with my daughter would change was heart wrenching, but I took comfort in these special memories. Hesitant as I was to relinquish my position as the man in her life, I knew it was right and was willing. Every detail of the day is etched into my mind permanently and indelibly as if it were cut into stone.
In a quiet moment before the ceremony, she looked especially beautiful to me as I glanced down at her and summoned the courage to give her away. In that quiet time, I shared my heart with her, some secrets only a father can share with his princess.
The wedding was about to begin. Alisha was ready and as her Dad, I had to rise to the occasion. I managed to share a story and a song just for her, although it wasn’t a perfect performance. Tears were mingled with the words, but I knew she loved it just as it was. So, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I kissed her and simply said, "I love you, Alisha", as I gave her hand to the awaiting groom.
After the ceremony, I caught a glimpse of my daughter and the groom, with so many around them waiting to celebrate. She looked my way and waved to me as my little girl always did when she would ride on the train at the mall, with each pass. It was a rare glimpse of heaven.
Before the day was over, I was congratulated and comforted by the guests present for the wedding. I was preparing to leave when a gift was handed to me by one of her attendants. It was from my daughter. She had selected something special for me, from her heart to mine. The flood of emotions I thought I had restrained with such poise on this special day were now uncontrollable. She was now and would forever be my little girl.
As I revisit the events of the day, the bride was absolutely radiant as she had always dreamed she would be on her special day and the groom, he was impeccable. He loved her unconditionally and he would cherish her like no other could. Alisha’s groom gave her everything she could ever hope for; He gave her eternal life. My little girl was just seven years old the day I gave her hand to Jesus.
As any father can attest, the idea of your daughter’s wedding is tremendously bittersweet. Alisha’s day had arrived. She had given her heart to another man and it wasn’t long after he asked her to stay with him forever.
She was too young, I thought, along with so many other reasons why she was not ready. Truthfully, I was the one who was unprepared for the changes about to take place. It was undeniably painful, but I couldn’t let my feelings get in the way for this was the beginning of something beautiful for her.
There are so many moments I would miss and countless memories to cherish. Gone were the days when she would greet me, as I would come home from work. I could picture those mischievous blue eyes and her untamed tawny-brown hair, tousled from yet another day of child’s play. I would miss our spontaneous car ride conversations, our evening walks, and the nights I would gently hug her until she drifted off to sleep. These simple pleasures of everyday life had become memories all too soon. It wasn’t about me however, I had to think of her, her and the groom.
Accepting my relationship with my daughter would change was heart wrenching, but I took comfort in these special memories. Hesitant as I was to relinquish my position as the man in her life, I knew it was right and was willing. Every detail of the day is etched into my mind permanently and indelibly as if it were cut into stone.
In a quiet moment before the ceremony, she looked especially beautiful to me as I glanced down at her and summoned the courage to give her away. In that quiet time, I shared my heart with her, some secrets only a father can share with his princess.
The wedding was about to begin. Alisha was ready and as her Dad, I had to rise to the occasion. I managed to share a story and a song just for her, although it wasn’t a perfect performance. Tears were mingled with the words, but I knew she loved it just as it was. So, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I kissed her and simply said, "I love you, Alisha", as I gave her hand to the awaiting groom.
After the ceremony, I caught a glimpse of my daughter and the groom, with so many around them waiting to celebrate. She looked my way and waved to me as my little girl always did when she would ride on the train at the mall, with each pass. It was a rare glimpse of heaven.
Before the day was over, I was congratulated and comforted by the guests present for the wedding. I was preparing to leave when a gift was handed to me by one of her attendants. It was from my daughter. She had selected something special for me, from her heart to mine. The flood of emotions I thought I had restrained with such poise on this special day were now uncontrollable. She was now and would forever be my little girl.
As I revisit the events of the day, the bride was absolutely radiant as she had always dreamed she would be on her special day and the groom, he was impeccable. He loved her unconditionally and he would cherish her like no other could. Alisha’s groom gave her everything she could ever hope for; He gave her eternal life. My little girl was just seven years old the day I gave her hand to Jesus.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
White Out
Apparently, there is something wrong with me because yesterday I saw a chance of snow on the weather forecast and it caused me to sigh. Whenever I see snow, I want to say I enjoy it, but instead I find it rather a nuisance.
When I was a kid, I used to love the stuff and the benefits it would bring, such as snow days. I lived for the moment; you know the one, when the radio announcer would call out your school’s name so you could have the day off. Few feelings can compete with the moment of elation a snow day brings, if, just for a moment.
Unfortunately, I no longer feel the same love for snow, but rather a disdain for it. I believe it stems from the fact that now it causes me the work of shoveling it, to be precise, a whole 100 foot worth of driveway and then some. Not to mention after the shoveling, the accompanying pain in my back, shoulders, and other parts of my body that hurt. Then, there is the hazard of driving in it. No offense to my fellow human being, but snow tends to bring out the idiots, me, being one of them at times.
Perhaps, my dislike started years ago when I was about nineteen, and just learning to drive. There was an inch of slush on the road and my dad offered to take me and my girlfriend to Burger King, but I blew him off. I was a grown-up and could do it myself. An hour later, I wasn’t feeling so grown-up when I panicked, and locked up the brakes of my 1975 Dodge Dart slidding off the road into some brush. To make matters worse, a complete stranger offered to pull me out with his pick-up truck, but couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t tear off my bumper. And if that wasn’t enough, when my girlfriend and her sisters found out about my dilemma, they couldn’t stop laughing. I can still here it now, “you did what?!”
Maybe snow isn’t the problem here at all, maybe I am. Snow, in its basic form is harmless and almost mystical, as it falls majestically from the sky. Since I can’t get rid of it, I’ll just have to learn to deal. Perhaps, the greatest lesson I believe we all can learn from snow is this: if you can’t control it, at least you can make snow men out of it.
“A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.” ~ Carl Reiner
Swavel
When I was a kid, I used to love the stuff and the benefits it would bring, such as snow days. I lived for the moment; you know the one, when the radio announcer would call out your school’s name so you could have the day off. Few feelings can compete with the moment of elation a snow day brings, if, just for a moment.
Unfortunately, I no longer feel the same love for snow, but rather a disdain for it. I believe it stems from the fact that now it causes me the work of shoveling it, to be precise, a whole 100 foot worth of driveway and then some. Not to mention after the shoveling, the accompanying pain in my back, shoulders, and other parts of my body that hurt. Then, there is the hazard of driving in it. No offense to my fellow human being, but snow tends to bring out the idiots, me, being one of them at times.
Perhaps, my dislike started years ago when I was about nineteen, and just learning to drive. There was an inch of slush on the road and my dad offered to take me and my girlfriend to Burger King, but I blew him off. I was a grown-up and could do it myself. An hour later, I wasn’t feeling so grown-up when I panicked, and locked up the brakes of my 1975 Dodge Dart slidding off the road into some brush. To make matters worse, a complete stranger offered to pull me out with his pick-up truck, but couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t tear off my bumper. And if that wasn’t enough, when my girlfriend and her sisters found out about my dilemma, they couldn’t stop laughing. I can still here it now, “you did what?!”
Maybe snow isn’t the problem here at all, maybe I am. Snow, in its basic form is harmless and almost mystical, as it falls majestically from the sky. Since I can’t get rid of it, I’ll just have to learn to deal. Perhaps, the greatest lesson I believe we all can learn from snow is this: if you can’t control it, at least you can make snow men out of it.
“A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.” ~ Carl Reiner
Swavel
Thursday, March 31, 2011
In Search Of
Music has a magical way of transporting us back in time.
For instance, at work I have a cassette tape of an old U2 song that always brings back good memories. When I hear the song “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for,” I am taken back to a summer night in 1988. I was in Baltimore to watch an Orioles’ game against the Texas Rangers with my then girlfriend (now wife) and brother. The game was awful and both teams were changing pitchers like there was no tomorrow.
It had become so bad that the highlight of the game was when a cat had run onto the field. Soon after, one of the teams was making a pitching change and as the discouraged pitcher left the game with his head down you could hear U2 appropriately singing over the P.A. system, “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.” No sooner did those words fill the air than a disgruntled fan stood up and appropriately yelled, “put the cat in.” I imagine it couldn't have done any worse.
This reminds me of another summer night in 1999. I was pitching for the men’s church softball team and I couldn’t find the plate. I, however, was not in jeopardy of being yanked, simply because we had no one else, but I almost committed a bigger blunder. In between one of the innings, I was greeted by my then six year old daughter who wanted to cheer up her dad. In her hand she had a bag of red Swedish fish and on her face a big smile, “Daddy would you like some fish?” In my frustration I said, “no” because I wanted to be left alone and then she started to cry.
I am not an overtly intelligent man, but every father knows that when your daughter cries you should listen and remedy the situation. So, of course, I told her I had changed my mind and those fish sure sounded good. Her tears suddenly dried up and a smile appeared as I popped those fish into my mouth. Strange, I can’t remember the outcome of the game or if my pitching even improved, because the next spring as I mentioned before my daughter passed away. The lesson I learned that summer night is that people are always more important than how you feel. On that evening, I didn’t find what I was looking for, instead I found something better.
“You can find whatever you're looking for, so decide what you're looking for.” ~ Seth Eisenberg
Swavel
For instance, at work I have a cassette tape of an old U2 song that always brings back good memories. When I hear the song “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for,” I am taken back to a summer night in 1988. I was in Baltimore to watch an Orioles’ game against the Texas Rangers with my then girlfriend (now wife) and brother. The game was awful and both teams were changing pitchers like there was no tomorrow.
It had become so bad that the highlight of the game was when a cat had run onto the field. Soon after, one of the teams was making a pitching change and as the discouraged pitcher left the game with his head down you could hear U2 appropriately singing over the P.A. system, “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.” No sooner did those words fill the air than a disgruntled fan stood up and appropriately yelled, “put the cat in.” I imagine it couldn't have done any worse.
This reminds me of another summer night in 1999. I was pitching for the men’s church softball team and I couldn’t find the plate. I, however, was not in jeopardy of being yanked, simply because we had no one else, but I almost committed a bigger blunder. In between one of the innings, I was greeted by my then six year old daughter who wanted to cheer up her dad. In her hand she had a bag of red Swedish fish and on her face a big smile, “Daddy would you like some fish?” In my frustration I said, “no” because I wanted to be left alone and then she started to cry.
I am not an overtly intelligent man, but every father knows that when your daughter cries you should listen and remedy the situation. So, of course, I told her I had changed my mind and those fish sure sounded good. Her tears suddenly dried up and a smile appeared as I popped those fish into my mouth. Strange, I can’t remember the outcome of the game or if my pitching even improved, because the next spring as I mentioned before my daughter passed away. The lesson I learned that summer night is that people are always more important than how you feel. On that evening, I didn’t find what I was looking for, instead I found something better.
“You can find whatever you're looking for, so decide what you're looking for.” ~ Seth Eisenberg
Swavel
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Every Now and Then
Every now and then we are reminded of what utter devastation truly looks like. This is how I felt on March 11th when Japan was hit by a devastating tsunami.
About a week ago, my wife and I watched an unbelievable video clip of a town in Japan that was hit full force by the tsunami. At first it was just a trickle, then a stream, then a river, then a moving wall of water. It took under five minutes for the full devastation to take place. Cars were being moved around like match boxes, boats were zooming by as they crashed into buildings and houses were becoming unhinged as the water’s massive power did whatever it willed. Here one minute, gone the next. It just defied logic.
It is amazing how one incident can alter the lives of so many. The number of people who have been confirmed dead or listed as missing in Japan has reached 20,000 people and is expected to climb even higher. If this wasn’t enough, still looming is the threat of radiation from the storm that ravaged the nuclear plant in Fukushima. Just a few days ago, I read of three scenarios and now of them appeared to be favorable.
The heartache is unfathomable. There is a story of one woman who escaped the rushing water, but lost grip of her daughter’s hand and has not found her since. Yet, I have seen a nation from what I can gather is handling an awful situation with grace and dignity. According to a news account, the Japanese in the waning days voluntarily turned off the electricity in an effort to conserve power. There were also reports of how the displaced people stood patiently in lines to receive rations and generally appeared to be thinking of others.
Tragedy can bring out the worst and best in people. “But we must keep on living,” said one citizen. Another survivor said, “I have come to realize what is important in life.”
For whatever reason, after we witness something so traumatic it always seems to make us stop and think. Every now and then we are reminded how truly fragile life can be and how in an instant it can all be taken away.
"We tend to forget that happiness doesn't come as a result of getting something we don't have, but rather of recognizing and appreciating what we do have." ~ Frederick Keonig
Swavel
About a week ago, my wife and I watched an unbelievable video clip of a town in Japan that was hit full force by the tsunami. At first it was just a trickle, then a stream, then a river, then a moving wall of water. It took under five minutes for the full devastation to take place. Cars were being moved around like match boxes, boats were zooming by as they crashed into buildings and houses were becoming unhinged as the water’s massive power did whatever it willed. Here one minute, gone the next. It just defied logic.
It is amazing how one incident can alter the lives of so many. The number of people who have been confirmed dead or listed as missing in Japan has reached 20,000 people and is expected to climb even higher. If this wasn’t enough, still looming is the threat of radiation from the storm that ravaged the nuclear plant in Fukushima. Just a few days ago, I read of three scenarios and now of them appeared to be favorable.
The heartache is unfathomable. There is a story of one woman who escaped the rushing water, but lost grip of her daughter’s hand and has not found her since. Yet, I have seen a nation from what I can gather is handling an awful situation with grace and dignity. According to a news account, the Japanese in the waning days voluntarily turned off the electricity in an effort to conserve power. There were also reports of how the displaced people stood patiently in lines to receive rations and generally appeared to be thinking of others.
Tragedy can bring out the worst and best in people. “But we must keep on living,” said one citizen. Another survivor said, “I have come to realize what is important in life.”
For whatever reason, after we witness something so traumatic it always seems to make us stop and think. Every now and then we are reminded how truly fragile life can be and how in an instant it can all be taken away.
"We tend to forget that happiness doesn't come as a result of getting something we don't have, but rather of recognizing and appreciating what we do have." ~ Frederick Keonig
Swavel
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Close to Our Hearts
In a nutshell, this is why we feel called to adopt.
'For I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.’ “Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.’ ~Matthew 25:36-40
'For I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.’ “Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.’ ~Matthew 25:36-40
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Matter of Trust
God can. I can’t. God’s willing. I’m hesitant.
The above statement was a self-assessment I made about a month ago, not one I'm proud of, but I believe can have a happy ending .
Allow me to elaborate on the word, trust, which happens to be synonomous with the words rest assured, full confidence, and rely completely. So, here is the way God works with trust, if we don’t trust in Him 100% then we don’t trust him at all because he who hesitates is lost. With that thought in mind, there was a time when I was under the false impression that I completely trusted in God.
On April 29th, 2000, that guise disappeared when I received the news that my entire family had been in a car accident and that all 3 members of my family were being taken to 3 separate hospitals. .
As I was riding to my wife’s hospital, I started quoting Proverbs 3:5-6, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not unto your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths.” It was always so easy to quote before, but now it had become difficult to live. Later that night at my daughter’s bedside where she lay in a coma, God and I had it out. I told God to take me instead of my daughter or if he had to take her I needed a purpose for all this. All I heard in response was, “Do you trust me, Aaron? Do you trust me?’’
You see God has never changed, just my perception of Him. Throughout history many who followed God suffered, were persecuted, and some were martyred. My perception was if I did want God wanted, things would always work out for me. So when I got frustrated with God, it was my problem not God’s. He never hid the fact that there would be times when things would not go my way and there would be no explanation, just God asking me to trust Him.
Lately, I have been talking with God and this is what I have heard, “I will not fully invest in you, until you fully invest me.” God does what He wants, well He’s God. If I want to be aboard furthering His Kingdom, it’s His way or the highway. What I’m trying to do now is to get involved in what God wants me to do and then I can rest assured that I can trust Him. Anything else is just an epic failure waiting to happen.
I don’t have to trust Him, He doesn’t force me, but if I don’t it’s my loss because complete trust in God is a prerequisite. I agree with C. S. Lewis in the Chronicles of Narnia when he spoke of the God type character, Aslan, the Lion, “He's not safe, but He's good.”
So, as a matter of trust, I would like to alter my thought of a month ago. God can. I can't. God's willing. I'm with Him.
Swavel
The above statement was a self-assessment I made about a month ago, not one I'm proud of, but I believe can have a happy ending .
Allow me to elaborate on the word, trust, which happens to be synonomous with the words rest assured, full confidence, and rely completely. So, here is the way God works with trust, if we don’t trust in Him 100% then we don’t trust him at all because he who hesitates is lost. With that thought in mind, there was a time when I was under the false impression that I completely trusted in God.
On April 29th, 2000, that guise disappeared when I received the news that my entire family had been in a car accident and that all 3 members of my family were being taken to 3 separate hospitals. .
As I was riding to my wife’s hospital, I started quoting Proverbs 3:5-6, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not unto your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths.” It was always so easy to quote before, but now it had become difficult to live. Later that night at my daughter’s bedside where she lay in a coma, God and I had it out. I told God to take me instead of my daughter or if he had to take her I needed a purpose for all this. All I heard in response was, “Do you trust me, Aaron? Do you trust me?’’
You see God has never changed, just my perception of Him. Throughout history many who followed God suffered, were persecuted, and some were martyred. My perception was if I did want God wanted, things would always work out for me. So when I got frustrated with God, it was my problem not God’s. He never hid the fact that there would be times when things would not go my way and there would be no explanation, just God asking me to trust Him.
Lately, I have been talking with God and this is what I have heard, “I will not fully invest in you, until you fully invest me.” God does what He wants, well He’s God. If I want to be aboard furthering His Kingdom, it’s His way or the highway. What I’m trying to do now is to get involved in what God wants me to do and then I can rest assured that I can trust Him. Anything else is just an epic failure waiting to happen.
I don’t have to trust Him, He doesn’t force me, but if I don’t it’s my loss because complete trust in God is a prerequisite. I agree with C. S. Lewis in the Chronicles of Narnia when he spoke of the God type character, Aslan, the Lion, “He's not safe, but He's good.”
So, as a matter of trust, I would like to alter my thought of a month ago. God can. I can't. God's willing. I'm with Him.
Swavel
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