A Test From God - I Failed

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.   I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me."

The stress level is high, everything is coming together in a crescendo of activities as we come to the end of a school year, busy times at work, and Easter week, one of the greatest weeks of the year for many of us.  Patrick just got home from college for his spring break, Sean will be coming home in a few days, Kelly will be coming over this weekend.  My classes are heating up, I'm coming to the end of the term, and I have so much to get done before the end of the year, tests to prepare, homework to grade, classes to prepare for.  And then there is work, who can forget that, life is busy at work, and we can never complain about that.

Patrick wanted to go to see his favorite teacher, Mr. Burkholder, at Music and Arts, so I decided I could drive him over and multi-task (really, is there such a thing?).  I would get gas in the car, stop by the grocery store and then sit out in front of Music and Arts on this glorious Monday night, preparing my accounting lesson for class that week.  As I sat down, reviewing some of the homework from Chapter 19, Share-based Compensation and Earnings Per Share (really, really exciting stuff), I had little idea what was in store for me. 

I settled in on the bench in front of the store, basking in the evening sunlight, and started reading the homework problem, "On October 15, 2010, the board of directors of Ensor Materials Corporation approved a stock option plan for key executives ...."  Just then, a man came up, and said, "Do you mind if I sit down and talk to you?" 

I looked up, and I'm sure I had that look of dread on my face.  Here in front of me was an old, semi-toothless man.  He had on an old multi-stained white t-shirt that carried many past meals and dirt on it, old blue sweat pants and a piece of paper in his hand, it seemed to say something about food, I thought to myself, he's going to want to work for food, give me some sad story about being out of work, homeless, whatever.  Just what I needed, I'm trying to get my work done for class, and I have to deal with this.

I semi-politely said, "Sure", and he sat down next to me.  "America's not what it used to be, people used to sit out on their front porches and talk.  Now they just sit in front of the TV, no one wants to talk anymore"  I thought to myself, "Yeah sure, that's what I'm doing, sitting in front of the TV, I have got to get back to studying.  OK, Ensor Materials Corporation approved a stock option plan for key executives..."  I just kept on reading and grunted out an "uh-huh".  Please take the hint and move on.

"You know, I teach a sailing course over at Lake Lanier, five weekend course, you have to really work hard in that course.  I've sailed to the Bahamas many times, spent a great deal of time down there."

I glanced over, I really didn't want to make any eye contact, and looked at him, what teeth he had were really rotted out, he just kind of stared off into the distance, really didn't look at me.  He just went on and on, jumping from topic to topic, not leaving much time for breathing in between.  "I've spent time over in France and Italy, took my wife over there, had some really good white Merlot over in Italy, could never find it over here.  I kept trying to get Merlot, and I finally realized I wanted white Merlot.  It's really a lot like white Zinfandel, I liked to drink that too."

I could feel my insides boiling, I had so much to prepare for this week, I had to get this lesson done.  Should I just excuse myself and go sit in the car?  Should I tell him to just leave me alone?  When will he take the hint, I really don't want to talk?  "key executives.  On January 1, 2011, 20 million stock options.  Wait a second, didn't I just read this?"

"I used to teach in Dekalb County schools.  Taught for over 30 years.  I went to graduate school in the summers at Georgia State.  It was a lot of work, but I did it.  I'm 77 now, I came to Music and Arts because I'd like to learn to play the piano."

"Wait, what?  You taught in the school system?  You want to learn how to play piano?",  I thought to myself.  I looked over again, I took a longer look.  Still that blank stare off into space.  He didn't really ever look at me, just looked off into space and kept right on talking.

"My wife died two years ago, she had Parkinson's disease.  It's a terrible thing to get.  She got to the point near the end, she didn't even know my name.  I miss her terribly.  I guess that's why I talk so much to people, I just miss her and need someone to talk to."

At this point, I set my book aside, I really looked, I didn't glance away, I took him in for who he really was, or at least used to be.  And my heart fell as I thought to myself, there but for the grace of God, go I.  And I realized, I had failed.  It was Easter week, when we celebrate the risen Christ, what Jesus has done for us, the ultimate sacrifice that He has given us, and I failed Him miserably, I couldn't give 15 minutes to one of the least of us, someone who could be me a few short years from now, depending on what life brings me.

Just then Patrick came out of Music and Arts, and I said, "That's my ride, I need to be going".  He finally looked into my eyes, and he really looked at me, looked into me, and he said, "My name's Paul, I didn't catch your name." 

"Me?  Judas.  My name's Judas." 

Of Bambi's Mother and Turkey Buzzards

Editor's Note:  As many of my friends know, I'm a huge baseball fan.  I use baseball analogies for just about any instance.  In this case, I had to go to the bullpen.  I just couldn't finish this blog post.  I tried for weeks, but the ending just wouldn't come to me.  So, I called in the greatest relief pitcher I know for writing.  Depending on the era you're from, he's the Rollie Fingers, Lee Smith or Mariano Rivera of writing.  He's better known though as Patrick McCullough.  Thanks to Patrick, I have an ending to my post.

Recently, as I was driving home from work in the evening, this beautiful doe came running across the road right in front of me. Thankfully, I was able to slam on the breaks and nearly miss hitting this beautiful creature. A couple weeks later, nearly in the identical spot, it was deja-vu all over again, as Yogi Berra would say, same doe, same vehicle, same driver, I almost hit her again. Since the scene of the almost accident was at one of the more heavily trafficked intersections in our area, I figured that Bambi's Mother wasn't long for the world. She just wouldn't be able to survive such a highly traveled area for too much longer.

While I hate to say it, we'll get back to Bambi's Mother, and her fate, in a minute.  First I must digress, and make a confession.  I have anger issues when I drive.  I get irritated with those who text, those who talk on the phone, those who cut me off, those who have no driving etiquette, etc.  Most days, I drive in anger as these idiots who surround me do stupid things.  It's obvious that it takes absolutely no intelligence to get a driver's license.  Recently, I had one of those experiences that just makes your blood boil and makes a normal person into a raving lunatic.  As I was about to pull out on Lawrenceville Highway when my light turned green, a car came flying through the red light, and would have hit me if I hadn't hesitated, just because I know how crazy people drive around Atlanta. 
Enraged, I flew up the road, wanting to "get even", ride on the offender's bumper, yell and scream, make sure he knew what an idiot he was.  I got my justice, I tailgated him, until he turned off, I gave him a piece of my mind, I let him know how dangerous a driver he was. 

Shortly thereafter, I saw a group of turkey buzzards, at least 10 of them on the other side of the road, picking at something.  Have you ever seen a turkey buzzard up close and personal? They are incredibly ugly, and they really don't care if you happen upon them, all they care about is their prey.  As I drove by, I realized what they were picking at - it was Bambi's Mother.  My immediate thought was, they are the ugliest creatures in the world, I'd love to just run them all over.  Almost instantaneously, I had another immediate thought, no, they're God's creatures, He loves them.    The thought of those grotesque creatures feeding on that beautiful doe made me sick.  But as noted, they are God's creatures too.  When God sees them, He doesn't see that ugly face, that ugly beak, He sees something that looks as beautiful as that doe.  Don't know how, don't know why, but God sees beauty in those creatures.

This then took me back many years to a time with my Uncle Bob.  There is always that person in your life that you say is the closest to God that you know.  For me, it's my Uncle Bob.  If you ever imagine meeting Mother Teresa, you imagine someone like my Uncle Bob, someone who always has a "God world view", everything is based on how God views us or God views the world.  I remember telling my Uncle Bob about how awful a singer I was (and still am), and I remember him telling me, "God doesn't care what you sound like.  Have you ever listened to blackbirds and how they go "caw caw" and how awful they sound?  God doesn't care, He loves to hear them sing.  No matter how you sound, God loves to hear you sing." 

And as I come full circle, I go back to that turkey buzzard that ran the red light and almost hit me.  What an ugly creature he was.  Unfortunately there was another really ugly turkey buzzard in this situation, and of course, it was me.  As I drove up the road, yelling and screaming and acting like an idiot, I was just as ugly as those nasty birds feasting on that sweet doe.  As much as I'd love to look in the mirror and see that beautiful doe, I still see an ugly, ugly bird looking back at me.

No matter how hard I try, I'm never going to look as beautiful as that doe.  While I can improve, I can make positive adjustments, there is nothing else I can ever really see in the mirror but that incredibly ugly bird, feasting on whatever is beautiful in this world.  As Jeff Poynter, a great man, said recently, "I've come to realize that I'm never going to graduate on this side of Heaven."  So do I have to wait until I get on the other side of Heaven to not look so ugly?  I guess the answer is yes, but ...

While I'll always be ugly like that turkey buzzard, when God looks at me, all He sees is someone who looks as beautiful as Bambi's Mother. Don't know how, don't know why, but God sees something beautiful when He looks at me.  He doesn't see me as I am, but He sees me after graduation day.  Through the cross, through Grace, He sees me as I will be, rather than as I am.

As my mind began to fully take in this scene and what it all means, I couldn’t help but see Jesus. As Jesus hung there on the cross, the weight of our sin literally picked at his flesh. But now, His beautiful act of love redeems us, and we can become more and more like that beautiful doe each day.

Solitude

Editor's Note - The following is the devotion I gave at the Men's Retreat on January 14, 2012. 

After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone – Matthew 14:23

But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed – Luke 5:16

But when you pray, go to your room, close the door, and pray to your Father, who is unseen. And your Father, who sees what you do in private, will reward you – Matthew 6:6

Solitude can be found in many places. As we can see from the Bible, Jesus would recluse himself when He needed to so that he could re-energize himself. Many of you have your own method to attain solitude. The one who inspired me is someone who has probably inspired many of you here, Nathan Schroeder. I’d listen to Nathan’s stories of how he would have his time with God, and I’d be envious because, quite frankly, I just couldn’t do it. But then, I figured out, I could do it in my own way.

I run, but before we have any misconceptions, I need to paint the proper mental picture for all of you. When you think of a runner, or at least when I do, I think of someone like Jay Fulmer, and the picture of Secretariat, the greatest athlete of all time comes into my mind. I am by no means a runner in that sense, I’m more of a plow horse, and I run like I’m dragging that plow behind me (those who attended the Flashlight 5k can attest to this). I’m a plodder, but I love to run. I go six days a week, the only day I miss is Friday’s when we have our men’s group. My wife recently posted on Facebook, "thunder, lightning, pouring down rain, and my husband just left for a run.  Is he crazy, obsessive or dedicated?"  She would vote for the first two, I would vote for the latter.

The funny thing is that I wasn’t so dedicated about it until I changed the music I listened to, and changed my running behavior. I used to listen to the normal stuff, theme from Rocky, Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch (prior to Mark Wahlberg's career spiraling downward into acting), whatever I could find upbeat to keep me going. Then I started listening to praise music, see my list at the bottom of the page, and my behavior and desire changed dramatically. The music focused me, and I found solitude with our God. Most days, I run alone, in the dark, with just my music and my Clinging Cross, seeing virtually no one. And yes, I have become obsessive, and I really hate to miss a day, not because of the run, but it’s my time with our God.

It’s really a good thing that most of the time, it’s dark and no one can see me. Sometimes I’m smiling like an idiot as I run, thinking about the beauty of Grace that we’ve all been given. Sometimes I’m crying, wondering why in the world did God bless me with such an unbelievable life. Sometimes I sing along, and even Jay can tell you, it’s not easy to sing when you’re running, but I do my best. Sometimes I shout it out, shout to the glory of God. Most days, I pray for those who need prayers, my Dad going through chemotherapy, my cousin Marie who just put her Dad in a nursing home, my cousin Michele, whose son Shawn is in Afghanistan, and the list goes on. And some days, the Holy Spirit comes down, you know how it is when Dr. Chappell or Allen have a really poignant moment in a sermon, and it comes down my spine and spreads this warmth all over my body.

So I run. A solitary runner plods along, singing, crying, laughing, talking, praying, shouting, searching for answers, in the best place to find them. Let us pray:

Gracious God, thank you for solitude, thank you for those times that we can talk to you in private, when you hear only us, and we hear only you. Let us follow the lead that Zack gave us last night, and do as the song says, "There's an army rising up, to break every chain, break every chain, break every chain."

My Playlist

You Never Let Go – Matt Redman

Sweetly Broken – Jeremy Riddle

Not To Us – Chris Tomlin

Point of Difference – Hillsong United

God of Wonders – Third Day

The Time Has Come – Hillsong United

Break Every Chain – Will Reagan

Revelation Song – Phillips, Craig & Dean

Our God – Chris Tomlin

Be My Escape – Relient K

How Great Is Our God – Chris Tomlin

I Will Rise – Chris Tomlin

Everlasting God – Lincoln Brewster

Let God Arise – Chris Tomlin

Jesus Mystery – Charlie Hall

Song of Hope – Robbie Seay Band

A River Runs Through It

Prologue:  I owe this blog to my Muse, Brittany Terry, who inspired me to finally address this topic.  I just hope I can do her inspiration justice.

This is my brother Bill, my oldest brother, an incredibly intelligent and personable individual.  My brother Jim and I tend to be a bit introverted, but Billy was very extroverted.  He could talk to anyone, he had many friends, was popular with women, he had a way about him that endeared him to many people.    Unfortunately, this is the last picture I have of Billy, it's from Christmas in 1991 less than a year before he took his life about 19 years ago. 

Suicide is a topic that most people like to avoid.  No one likes to talk about it, and God forbid that it strikes your family.  It's one thing to tell people that you lost a relative to a heart attack, cancer, a car accident, but tell them that you lost a relative to suicide?  You can see in the reaction that they are shocked, dismayed, even repulsed by the admission.  It's just not something anyone wants to talk about. 

Do you know what it's like to lose a relative to suicide?  As a sibling, it hurts, you struggle with what could you have done to change this, prevent this.  You miss the person you lost, but you also struggle with so many emotions.  The pain of the loss, the anger at them, the uncertainty of how in the world it happened, so many whirling, swirling emotions that you just can't seem to get a good handle on.  After Billy killed himself, I would find myself daily sitting at stop lights, wondering, thinking, struggling with what happened, how could this happen, what could I have done, what could have changed this.  Those daily struggles eventually went to semi-weekly, weekly, monthly, etc., but the pain never goes away.  I'd have dreams periodically where Billy would be back, but of course, you wake up and life is back to normal.

I remember growing up, Billy would wax philosophically about suicide. He would talk about it like it was a badge of honor. I guess this should have been a sign of what was to come, but how do you know? I remember writing a story about him in high school, and I ended it with some lines from a Jackson Browne song, "The Pretender" - "Say a prayer for the pretender, who grew up so young and strong, only to surrender". Maybe I subconsciously knew something ahead of time, but just didn't realize it?

I went to a counselor at one point, and talked to her about it.  At one point, I said, "my family all feels guilty about this, we feel like we should have done something".  She said, "you should feel guilty".  You should feel guilty?  I'm not a trained counselor, but I can't imagine this is classified as good counseling, to tell someone in pain, you should feel guilty. 

This counselor though isn't the only ill-informed person that has raised my ire.  I've heard other people pontificate about suicide, what suicide victims have going through their mind, why they do it, what their issues are.  These blanket opinions of suicide really piss me off, as there are no typical suicide victims.  They come in all shapes and sizes and there are no easy patterns to tell you if and when the fatal event will occur.  Talk to family members and friends and you will get hundreds of different stories, there are some patterns, but they are so diverse, it's hard to garner a good diagnosis of what a typical suicide victim looks like.

Finally, those people who state unequivocally that suicide victims will go to Hell obviously have an inside track to God that I don't have to know this for a fact.  I'll avoid dealing with the topic of whether suicide is a sin or not, my focus will land squarely on Grace.  I'm a sinner, a horrible sinner at least from my perspective.  I can easily, but not proudly, say that I've broken most if not all of the 10 Commandments, in some cases, daily.  While I'm a sinner, I still believe that through the Grace of Jesus Christ, I still will have a place in Heaven.  If I have a place in Heaven, even though I have sinned throughout my life, how am I to say that someone who committed suicide will not have the same place in Heaven, if they have accepted Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior.  Does Grace not apply to them?  If suicide is a sin, is it a worse sin than all of the sins I've committed to condemn all suicide victims to Hell?

As difficult as suicide is from a sibling's perspective, I can't imagine what it can be like for a parent, spouse or child. I know from watching my parents, they've never been the same since Billy ended his life 19 years ago. They were close to retirement, so they were looking forward to those years of relaxation, travel, enjoying life with no worries of getting up and going to work each day. That all changed. As bad as it's been for them, I can't imagine a spouse going through this. I can imagine even less, a child having to deal with a parent committing suicide.

Which brings me back to my inspiration.  I've kept my thoughts and feelings about this topic inside for so many years, but Brittany inspired me because of her courage and convictions.  She's been through a suicide, which impacted her and her children dramatically.  Instead of burying this inside, she's waged a war, trying to encourage those who are contemplating suicide to reconsider and get some help.  From my standpoint, if she saves just one life, if she keeps one family from having to deal with this pain, she will be very successful.  If suicide victims could only see the devastation they leave behind, it would be like the movie, "It's a Wonderful Life", they would never even consider suicide.  It wreaks so much havoc on those left behind, I can't believe they would still consider taking their life and destroying so many other lives in the process.

I wish I had some easy answers to this.  As noted, suicide victims come in all shapes and sizes, and it's difficult to tell if and when it's going to happen.  The toughest part is that sometimes those closest can see the signs the least or don't know what to do with the signs they see.  After many years of soul-searching, I came upon a scene from the movie "A River Runs Through It" where Reverend Maclean delivers a sermon after the death of his son that really hit home for me.  It goes:

"Each one of us here today will, at one time in our lives, look upon a loved one and with need, ask the same question: 'We are willing to help, God, but what, if anything, is needed?'  For it's true we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don't know what part of ourselves to give, or more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted.  And so it is those whom we live with and should know who elude us, but we can still love them. We can love completely without complete understanding."

If you have any thoughts of suicide, the easy answer is, don't do it.  If you need the reasons why, talk to anyone who has lost a loved one to suicide, and hear and feel the pain that they are going through that will never go away.  If you have a loved one that you are concerned may be contemplating suicide, have them talk to someone who has lost someone to suicide.  Or have them read Brittany Terry's blog on Facebook, it is a powerful tool for those thinking about suicide or those who have loved ones thinking about suicide.  As I said above, every person saved is a victory.  Let's work to save some lives, and save some families and friends from needless suffering.

When You Are Facing Death - Or At Least You Think You Might Be

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord - Romans 6:23

Recently I was on a flight from Chicago to Pittsburgh on a small commuter jet. I had been in Chicago all week for work, it was a long, grueling, intense week. Long days, long nights, lot of good work accomplished, but it was nice to come to the end of the week. Friday night, I had the opportunity to have dinner with Megan and Thomas, I had seen them recently at my niece Molly's wedding, but it was still nice to get some time with them. Saturday morning, it was off to Grove City College to see Patrick for the first time since he had gone off to college. I was meeting Laurel at the Pittsburgh airport before heading up to Grove City, hence the flight from Chicago to Pittsburgh.

As I waited for the flight, I saw many members of the "Steeler Nation". The Steelers were playing New England that Sunday in Pittsburgh, so the fans were descending from all corners. One couple was from Iowa. One gentleman was from Arkansas. I listened with amusement, hearing the stories of past visits to the hallowed grounds, Heinz Field. The outfits are always fascinating, the one woman had a pair of Nike shoes that were black and gold, I had no idea you could get something like these. Since I'm originally from the Pittsburgh area, these discussions, stories, are music to my ears. I love to hear people talk about Pittsburgh and Pittsburgh sports. While my greatest allegiance is with the Penguins, and then the Pirates, my sports heart in general is always in Pittsburgh.

The flight for the most part was like any other flight. It was a foggy, ugly day, but I've flown in worse. I had plenty to keep me busy work-wise on the plane, so I settled in to getting work done, and didn't think much more about anything else. After a while though, I realized that the flight was taking a really long time for some reason. We should have landed a while ago, but we were circling and not getting to our destination. I was getting antsy, I had to meet Laurel, I wanted to get to Grove City in time for the game and seeing Patrick play in the band. It was getting very frustrating.

Then, the flight attendant told us why it was taking so long. There was a minor problem, nothing to worry about. The flaps weren't working. This kind of thing happens all the time. We will most likely make an emergency landing, but no need to worry. You should "assume the position", put your hands against the seat in front of you, and put your head against it, to prepare for a crash landing.

Soon thereafter, the pilot came on, and largely reiterated the theme. No big deal, we'll be coming in fast and hard with no flaps and have to rely on reverse thrust and the brakes. Don't worry about the fire trucks lining the runway, it's just a precaution. We do this all the time, no big deal.

I guess it's probably the fact that I've flown so much that I've become callous to flying and the potential risk. I heard these explanations and assumed everything was completely under control. How often do planes really crash anyway, it's very rare, less risk than driving on the highway. Besides, the flight attendant and pilot said that everything was fine, this happens all the time, there was no risk.

But then, I started thinking, what else would they really say? "Hey guys, we have some serious shit going on here, and you all may die!" That probably wouldn't work. The plane got very quiet as all of us started thinking about the possibilities. As we started descending, I could see the fire trucks lining the runway. I finally figured out that this was probably part of the reason for the long delay in landing, they were trying to get the fire trucks in place. Of course, this was all a bit disconcerting. As they had noted, we were coming in fast and hard. With no flaps, there wasn't really anything to slow the plane down.

While most people would have had reality hit much sooner than me, reality finally hit. There was the potential, I was about to die. No flaps, fire trucks on the runway, emergency landing procedures, hmmm, I'm no rocket scientist, obviously, but this may not turn out well. I turned to prayer as potentially my last minutes laid ahead of me. My prayers? Surprisingly simple. Maybe it was the surprise of the situation I was in, maybe it was my callousness to the dangers of flying, maybe it is where I am right now in my spiritual journey. As I looked down at all of those fire trucks, and that plane was moving so quickly toward the ground, my prayer went something like this:

"Dear Lord, if this is it, I'm OK with it. You've given me a great life, and I can die a happy man. I know you are with me, and you will protect me. My only regret is I will miss my family. Please look after them and help them through this. Please make sure Laurel finds someone else and lives a happy life, she deserves it. Please make sure that my children are looked after and taken care of."

Nothing more, nothing fancy, just a very simple prayer. I felt surprisingly calm, surprisingly confident that God would look after me. Let me be clear about this though, this had nothing to do with me, who I am, what I've done, but everything to do with God. As the line from "Be My Escape" says, "But the beauty of Grace is that it makes life not fair". There is no fairness or reason for me to feel confident in my life after death other than my confidence in the Grace of Jesus Christ dying for me, and for you, on the cross.

So, the landing. It was fast, it was hard. As soon as we hit the ground, the pilot was hitting the reverse thrust and the brakes to slow us down. Afterward, I thought about it, and I was thankful it was a commuter jet, because we used up a whole lot of runway, so I'm not sure what it would have been like with a large jet. We eventually got stopped, and all of a sudden, there was one hesitant clap, and then a round of applause for the pilot. I was quickly texting my family to tell them what had happened and that everything was OK.

Which brings me to the next point. I've been planning for a while to write my desire for my funeral, but I've worried that it would seem too creepy. I figured I had plenty of time to deal with this, and I hope that I still do, but based on my experience above, you just never know when you have to be prepared for the inevitable. Am I prepared? I think that's a question we all wrestle with continually. As I have to keep reminding myself, it has so little to do with me, and so much to do with Him. Therein lies the beauty of it all.

A Voice From the Past

Oh I wish I were that old! This was a picture from when I turned 40, and my former colleagues at Barco in Xenia, Ohio got one of those birthday cakes and put it out in front of the building, and made me stand on it as cars went by and honked ... Good times really, much better times. This was 2000, business was booming, 9/11 hadn't happened yet, life was so much simpler and easier. But as usual, I digress.

Back in the late 1990's, Barco acquired a company in Xenia, Ohio, it was called EIS. I got involved at EIS from the beginning of the acquisition, which was 1997, eventually I went to work there full time, and stayed there until 2006. These were the best work years of my life. We worked hard, we were very committed, but in so many respects, EIS was like a family. In fact, when I first got there, in many ways, it was a family, or families. Various relatives worked there, husbands and wives, parents and children, various combinations of family members.

Which brings me to the point of the story, and one of the relatives, Sue Longland. Sue was an incredible person, always upbeat, always happy, always positive. She would carry a Curious George lunch box, she loved Curious George. Sue worked in accounting when I got there, and processed accounts payable. Her father, John Longland, was the Staff Scientist, a very intelligent, gentle man. They were incredible to watch together, Sue loved her parents dearly, and John loved his daughter dearly as well. Sue really struggled with what to do with her life. She had a greater purpose, she wanted to serve God. She also didn't want to leave her parents, but couldn't really find the right opportunity in the local area. Eventually, Sue left and went to work in Seattle, Washington, I think at a Christian school. I recently stalked her on Facebook, and she is working in Honduras, I'm really not exactly sure what she is doing, but I'm sure, she is serving God in some manner. I remember when Sue was leaving us, she said to me (or something like this), "with so many problems in the world, I really can't get that excited over processing accounts payable."

I hadn't really thought about Sue until recently, and it was by happenstance, one of those strange bits of serendipity. When our boys left for college, Laurel gave one of them my Bible to take with them. After I got over my shock and amazement of having my Bible given away, I found another Bible on our book shelf and started using it for my Men's Group meetings. I noticed there were several post-it notes throughout the Bible, and various verses underlined, I assumed it was one of the boy's Bibles from school. So, I used it for several weeks, until finally the other night, I turned to the beginning, and serendipity hit me head on. The Bible was one that Sue had given me when she left Barco way back in 1999, and I had forgotten all about it. As all of those memories flooded back to me, I read an incredible message in the front of the Bible from Sue that went like this:

"I admire you, my friend, as a man of integrity, humor, compassion, and hard work. I'll miss you, but with this book, I leave you my heart. This is the dearest thing in all the world to me (even dearer than Curious George!). I hope that this Leadership edition will help you be a godly man, both at home and at EIS.

I also hope that Jesus Christ will become more real and relevant to you as you study these pages. I've marked some of my favorite verses - hope you don't mind! Because of Him, Suebeedoo, Romans 10:9-10"

I thumbed through the Bible, looking at the pages with post-it notes, looking at the various verses that were underlined for me. Of course, they were some of the "greatest hits" of the Bible - "You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly", "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith - and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God - not by works, so that no one can boast", and so on. And Romans 10:9-10? "That if you confess with your mouth, Jesus is Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved". And I was back at EIS, simpler, happier times, where work was family, and family was work, and a child of God would make our lives fun and more memorable with funny stories and a Curious George lunchbox.

The funny thing was that at our Men's Group meeting the other day, Eric Moore asked the question, "do you ever think that you've encountered an angel". Of course, I knew my answer.

Going Into Semi-Retirement

If I had just one wish, only one demand
I hope he's not like me, I hope he understands
That he can take this life and hold it by the hand
And he can greet the world with arms wide open
Creed

To borrow yet again from my mentor and friend, Dave Carr, we all have our answer when someone asks us, "what do you do?" I've learned from Dave, that while the pat answer would be something like, "I'm the CFO at WIKA", the more appropriate answer is to say what the most important things are in your life. So, what I would say is:

- I'm a devoted and passionate, but very imperfect, follower of Jesus Christ and am thankful every day for the beauty of Grace

- I'm married to the best friend I've ever had, and try my best to be the best possible husband I can be

- I'm a loving and caring father, even though I fail in so many instances to meet my expectations of what a loving and caring father should be

- I'm the Chief Financial Officer for WIKA Instrument Corporation, a really great company

- I'm an adjunct professor of accounting at Georgia Gwinnett College, and I really love teaching

As many of you know, this has been the year of change for us. To recap, Kelly moved out in February, the boys graduated from high school in May, Megan got married in June, and the boys leave this week for college. Empty nestdom is about to set in. Many people have told me that this is a great stage of life we are moving into, but I have so many fears and mixed feelings about all of this. I think back to the movie "Failure to Launch", when Kathy Bates was discussing her son finally moving out, and she said to him, "What if he doesn't like me?" in reference to her husband, Terry Bradshaw. I've had those same thoughts in regard to Laurel, and it does worry me, but that's not the main subject of this post.

I've been a parent for 26+ years now, and for the first time, I won't have children in the house. I realize that you never stop being a parent, my parents still parent me, I see other parents doing the same, but it's going to be different. Am I going into semi-retirement? How do I spend my time, who am I going to run to the store with, who's going to help me play pranks on Laurel? The house is going to be incredibly quiet without band practice, or the constant singing, guitar, keyboard, piano or french horn playing. I've known this time was going to come eventually, and as much as I tried to slow down time, it came anyway. I've told Kelly she has to move back home now, but that's not the answer either, life has to go on, and I need to deal with it.

This post isn't about me, though, it's about Patrick and Sean, and I guess my final advice I can give them before they head out the door this Friday. I chose some lines from the Creed Song, "With Arms Wide Open", because it resonates with me and what I hope for Patrick and Sean. I think that every father hopes that his son(s) is better than him, a better husband, better father, better person, and that is what I hope for my sons. I'm sure there will be more advice to give, but this is my one last gasp before I head into semi-retirement, so here goes:

- Live life - in too many cases in my life, I was looking ahead to the next level, next promotion, whatever it was. I didn't experience or enjoy where I was in my life at the present. Live your life, enjoy the people around you, enjoy nature around you, take it all in and enjoy it. Tell people how you feel about them, don't just assume they know how you feel. Time is too short, people need that reassurance that they are special, that they mean something in your life.

- Follow your dreams - look at Curtis Mann, he followed his dream, maybe it was crazy, but he followed it and see where he is? I always wanted to be a writer, but I gave up early because it was too hard of work, or I didn't see a future doing it. If you have a passion for something, do it, and don't let anyone tell you that you'll never be able to make a career of it.

- Choose your friends well - I made some bad choices along the way, and I paid for it. I also made some good choices, and it made a huge difference in my life. My best friend from high school Dale Thomas was there many years later when I needed a friend. A good friend will always be there for you.

- Don't hesitate to look to your church for help - There were times in my life, I didn't turn to my church for help, when I desperately needed it. I was either too ashamed, too proud, too whatever, but I didn't do it. I've also found through my small groups, both in Dayton and now here, having a relationship with a small group can make an incredible difference in your life. Humans are made to need companionship and relationships, don't discount that.

- Follow your heart - It will never lead you wrong. That goes for anything you do, but I'm particularly talking about relationships with women. Your Mom and I didn't meet until about 2-3 months before I graduated from college, she lived over an hour away, and I was headed off to graduate school, four hours away. I could have figured, timing is wrong, this isn't meant to last, but I pursued her because I thought there was something special there. There may be barriers along the way, but if that person is special enough, knock those barriers down. Almost thirty years later, I have no regrets, and I thank God she is in my life, and I did follow my heart.

- Experiment and try new things - OK, I don't mean drugs or alcohol. College is the time to experiment, learn who you are, what you want to do, what gives you passion. I don't know if it's going to be in the classroom, intramural sports, clubs, fine arts, whatever it is, try something new and see what you are passionate about. I always wanted to play the piano, but I've never had the nerve to try, don't be like me! I will say though, I always wanted to teach, and finally, at 50, I started teaching. It's never too late, but this is the best time in your life to try new things.

- Make time for your brother and sisters - As you know, I lost my brother Bill too early, and Mom lost her sisters Kathy and Karen way too early. I was way too busy early in my adult life to spend enough time with my brothers, and I regret that. Don't have regrets, fix it ahead of time. Make time for your brother and sisters, they are God's gift to you.

- Do what's right, no matter how hard it is to do - There are so many ways to put this. One of the best I ever heard was Lou Holtz, the former college football coach saying, "You can't go wrong, if you do what's right." Whether it's "would you be proud of this if it was in tomorrow's newspaper" or "how would you feel if your Mom saw you do this", there are many litmus tests for doing right and wrong, use them to judge your actions.

- Never, ever quit or give up - I'm probably not the smartest or most talented person in the world, but what has helped me through in many cases is perseverance. There will be times, where the easy answer is to quit, but the most satisfying answer is to work through whatever obstacle it is and conquer it. You both have shown that you have the hearts of champions, that will not fail you as you move forward.

- Lastly, honor God in whatever and all that you do - You know, I would love for you to serve Him as a minister, worship leader, missionary or whatever your calling may be. But, it's YOUR calling. If you don't feel Him calling you to one of these vocations, that's OK, but whatever you do, honor Him in whatever you do. As Sean has said, maybe he could become Mr. Driver when he grows up, and that would be a wonderful thing. I'm sure both of you will be great in whatever you do, just remember why you are going to be great.

I would hope that you know that your Mom and me love you tremendously, and we always have been, and always will be, very proud of both of you. You are destined for great things, no matter what that may be. Remember, I'm only in semi-retirement, if you need any words of wisdom or advice, I'm here for you. I also have Dave Carr's number if you want really good advice.

Of Father's Day and Forgiveness

I've been trying to get down to the heart of the matter, but my will gets weak and my thoughts seem to scatter, but I think it's about forgiveness, forgiveness, even if, even if you don't love me anymore. - Don Henley, The Heart of the Matter

Ever since Father's Day, there's been thoughts or ideas bouncing around in my head, that I've been trying to get to gel, but as noted, my head's kind of stuffed with fluff, so they've continued to bounce around with no cohesion to them. I think they may have finally come together last night after a late night talk with Sean, but I'll get there in a minute.

Right around Father's Day, one of my colleague's who I respect immensely, Jim Zielinski, asked me a question. "What one piece of advice would you give on raising children?" He has young twin boys, I think about five, and I'm at the tail end of raising ours, our twin boys are 18. My one piece of advice was learn to bite your tongue, learn when to keep your mouth shut. As my older, and much wiser, brother once told me, words are like bullets, once they're out, you can't get them back and they've done irreparable damage.

On Father's Day at our church, Dr. Chappell did a sermon in a sense on the same topic. His sermon was the positive side of this, he told a couple of stories, one from his childhood and one from his parenthood. I won't tell these stories, these are Dr. Chappell's life stories, and that wouldn't be fair. In each case, however, the father encountered a situation where the son made a fairly big mistake, and in each case, rather than yelling or telling the son how he had erred, the father simply hugged his son and let him know he was loved no matter what.

Ah, I wish my story was as positive to tell. There have been many times when I haven't taken my own advice and just kept my big mouth shut unfortunately. There is one that sticks with me and still haunts me, I don't know why, but it does. It was probably two years ago or so, and Sean was playing indoor soccer. He wasn't having a particularly good game, but the main purpose of the indoor season was to get in shape for the high school season. After the game, as we were leaving, I couldn't help but comment on Sean's lackluster play. Now Sean is a pretty competitive young man, and he's also very astute. He knew he hadn't played his best game, and the last thing he really needed was for his father to be telling him that he hadn't played that well. Bang! There goes the handgun blast, there goes the bullet ripping through Sean's heart. I must have said I was sorry a dozen times on the drive home that night, but it still didn't help. The shot was fired, the bullet did its damage, no amount of words could repair the wound.

The funny thing that kept gnawing at me though when I kept thinking back to this evening was that there was a second shot, much more damaging than the first. It was more of a shotgun blast, a self-inflicted wound, and the damage was so extensive, it still really hasn't healed. I think, or I hope, that if you would ask Sean if he remembered this incident, I'd venture to say he doesn't, that bullet to the heart has healed over. There's still some scar tissue maybe, but for the most part, he's healed. Unfortunately, the self-inflicted shotgun blast I took to the heart still hasn't healed, and I guess, that is the heart of the matter.

We've been talking a lot about forgiveness at our house lately, mainly dealing with other people, those who have wronged us, and how no matter what, we need to forgive those who have committed wrongs against us. The hardest wrong to forgive though are those that you do yourself. As much as I know I should, and need to, forgive myself for that night, or so many of the other days or nights where I've done something stupid like this, I still struggle with it. Words are like bullets, they can inflict so much damage, but so many times, the damage to oneself lingers far longer than the damage to others. Which brings me to late last night and my conversation with Sean.

For those of you who do read my blog, I refer back to my post of December 24, 2009, Does God Talk To Us - Or Through Us? Sean came to talk to me last night because that night has really stuck with him (maybe that shoots my theory of bullet wounds healing, or maybe that bullet wound was just too deep). Sean unfortunately witnessed me losing it with Laurel that night, and he told me last night that while he knows I won't leave them, and maybe it's a little irrational, he still has this fear that I will leave them because of what he witnessed that evening. While I still suffer the bullet wounds from that night myself, I didn't realize that those wounds were still there for Sean, which led to a great parenting opportunity for me, and maybe even a little reparation of those wounds to try to get them to heal within me.

I told Sean that I still regret that night and what I said and did. I told him that forgiveness is critical in our lives, and probably the hardest person to forgive is ourselves. I told him that even though I know that, and I know I need to forgive myself, I still haven't been able to do it. I told him that while I regret what happened, life and marriage involves hurting each other sometimes, and the most important thing is to recover from those moments. Even though you may fight or disagree, it doesn't mean that you still don't love each other. I told him that I can't change the past, but events like this make me try to make every day a better day for his Mom if I can. And I told him, in my or our defense, we've been married for over 28 years, which is pretty good considering the average divorce rate, so we must be doing something right.

As we come full circle to that evening, I come back to the e-mail that Sean wrote me that night, admonishing me to do the right thing. He gave the analogy of Judas and Peter, committing wrongs and how you react or deal with those wrongs. Do you take the route of Judas, commit the wrong, not forgive yourself, and commit suicide? Or do you take the route of Peter, commit the wrong, but forgive yourself and run after Jesus even faster? While the answer seems easy, the path isn't as smooth. So we come to the heart of the matter. Can I forgive myself, can I be Peter, can I put the past behind me and soar confidently into the future? As Hamlet said, "Ay, there's the rub!". As is probably painfully obvious from reading this, self-forgiveness is still a struggle I have. In my mind, in my heart, I know I have to, it is the only healthy thing to do, but I can't seem to pull the trigger, or at least pull the trigger as well as I pull the trigger on those bullets of criticism or anger.

So I wish I could give you a happy Father's Day ending to this, but I really can't. What I can give you is the hope that I have for myself, and of course, for anyone who struggles with forgiving himself or herself. This one I listen to a lot, and I think about a lot, because to me, it does have a lot of meaning, particularly for me. I continue to be a work in progress, and I hope that I am until the day that I die.

There is hope for me yet, Because God won't forget, All the plans he's made for me, I have to wait and see, He's not finished with me yet, He's not finished with me

Brandon Heath, Wait and See

Little Miss Magic, what you gonna be?

Last weekend, June 11, 2011, I walked my oldest child, Megan, down the aisle to marry Thomas McDonald. I looked forward to this moment with great anticipation, and trepidation, for so many months, and in all of my wildest dreams, I couldn't have imagined that this day could have been any better. I finally get it. I have to admit, I never quite understood all of the drama and love for weddings, but now I get it. Outside of my own wedding, and the birth of my children, this was the greatest day of my life. I would do this again in a heartbeat, and I give a fair warning to Kelly, you will have a wedding like this someday, whether you like it or not.

Leading up to the wedding, the trepidation part was due to my fear of how I would be walking Megan down the aisle and for the Father of the Bride Dance. There would be random moments, sitting at my desk, out for my morning run, whenever, wherever, where I would burst into tears thinking about those moments. While I understood that it would be relatively acceptable to cry during those moments, I didn't want to "ugly cry" as one of my colleagues, Nancy, would say at work. I kept thinking and believing, there was no way I could make it through without an ugly cry. This thought haunted me leading up to the wedding and even that morning. The night before the wedding, my brother Jim made the comment, "Laurel looks great, she looks calm, Megan looks great, she looks calm, the only one that looks awful is you." The morning of the wedding, we went to breakfast, and afterward, my Mother said, "What's wrong?", and I started crying.

Maybe it's hard for some people to understand, but I really don't think it is, the whole process and concept of giving away your daughter is overwhelming. So many memories run through your mind, you go back to those days when she was a baby, when she was a little girl, when she sang "Little Miss Magic" with you.... Ah, the memories. While you have the joy and excitement for the life to come for her, you are still tied to those memories of what was, and what will never be again. It is life, it is how it must be, it is right, but that doesn't mean it's not hard.

Before I reveal how I made it through (or didn't) the critical moments of the wedding, I'd like to provide some key moments from the wedding and the few days leading up to the wedding:

• You always wonder what your future in-laws are going to be like, and that worry was quickly dispelled. The McDonald's are incredible. We always have loved Thomas, he's an incredible young man, but I had never met the rest of the family. Kathy and Peter McDonald are fantastic people, and their sons are amazing. I told Kathy and Peter that I'd adopt any of their sons in a heartbeat.


• Not only that, but the extended family was incredible. We had the opportunity to meet various cousins and other members of the McDonald extended family the few nights before the wedding, and they were a great group of people.


• We were blessed by several family members coming, including my parents from South Carolina, my brother and sister-in-law from North Carolina, and nieces, nephews, and their spouses or fiancees from states far away. Laurel's niece Heather and her husband Tom carted four young boys from Indiana up for the wedding, and the boys behaved unbelievably.


• Four of the Small Group members from my former church in Dayton came, including two spouses, to support me and to support us. As we always said, it takes a Small Group to raise a child, and my Small Group helped us through many difficult times raising our children. We had those there in body, and we also had those there in spirit. We couldn't have raised our children without them, and we were so blessed for what they have done in our lives.


• Our sons, Patrick and Sean, sang before the wedding, two songs that they wrote themselves, and "Can't Help Falling in Love With You", the Elvis Presley song. They did a great job, even though they stressed us out considerably, changing the words, changing the songs, up until the morning of the wedding.


• Thomas' brother, Bob, gave an incredible toast. I have never in my life heard a toast like he gave, Bob is an amazing young man.


• Jodi DiCenzo, a young lady I worked with over 20 years ago, who lives in the Chicago area, came to the wedding. When Megan was a baby, her parents used to babysit Megan, so that Laurel and I could go out and have some time away from our newborn.


• As many people suggested, I savored every moment. I knew the day would fly by, so I made sure I took in everything that happened. I watched, I listened, I enjoyed. I stayed until the very end, until we essentially were told, politely, to leave.


• The old saying goes, youth is wasted on the young. I disagree, it is so much fun watching the young being young. I stood in the corner for so much of the dancing late at night, just watching young people being young people. They have so much in front of them, so much to offer, we were them many years ago, let them have the moment now.


• Thomas and his Mother did an amazing job on the Mother of the Groom Dance. They danced to "Forever Young" by Rod Stewart. It was upbeat, fun, energizing, I smiled and laughed the whole time watching them, it was a great follow-up to Megan and my Father of the Bride Dance.

So, we get to the two key moments, at least for me. The time came for walking Megan down the aisle. Beforehand, Kathy McDonald and I talked and decided we couldn't make eye contact. As I walked down the aisle, I looked straight ahead, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. I knew if I looked at any of my Small Group, I was doomed. I was really good until I got toward the end of the aisle. I glanced over at Kathy, and had to look away quickly. Then I looked at Laurel. No!!! The one I could always count on to hold it together was crying! How could this be? I held up fairly well, I gave Megan a kiss, shook Thomas' hand, and went on my way. Some people may have noticed I stepped on Megan's wedding dress, but that's beside the point.

The time came for the Father of the Bride Dance. Our song, which I chose, was "Little Miss Magic" by Jimmy Buffett. When Megan was little, we would ride around in the car, and sing it. It was a magical memory for me, many years ago, when Megan was young, I was young, when she was "the only other woman for me". Times have changed, I've lost a lot of hair, what's left of it has grown much greyer, and Megan has grown into a beautiful and wonderful young lady. I got to dance that one final dance and tell her so many things every father wants to tell his daughter. I love you very much, I'm so proud of you, we love Thomas, you've married into an incredible family, I can't imagine this day being any better than it is, remember what the message was today at the wedding, you are making a commitment to Thomas and to God. Within moments, it was over, but the memory, that moment, will last with me forever. One last time, she was my little girl, she was my baby, she was my Little Miss Magic.

Did I cry during the Father of the Bride Dance? Yeah, like a baby. Was it an ugly cry? Maybe it was, but to be honest, I really don't care. The moment was so beautiful and precious to me, I don't really care what I looked like. For those few moments, I really didn't notice anyone or anything around me, all I saw or heard was Megan. That's all that mattered. All I hope and pray is that she's happy, and she seems so happy with Thomas, that's all that matters, that's all any parent could want for their child.

Little Miss Magic, what you gonna be? Little Miss Magic, what you gonna be?
Little Miss Magic, just can't wait to see...

Why You're My Favorite

As we come upon graduation, the boys have received many cards and letters from people, expressing words of gratitude and inspiration. I've been amazed at what some people write and express, there have been some incredibly heartfelt words delivered to Patrick and Sean.

One of the letters was more of a "form letter" that one of the teachers gives to her students, but I really loved the message to it. It was a teachers' message to her students of why they were her favorite. It talked about the quiet students, the talkative students, the "know-it-all's", the class clowns, the brightest, the "not so brightest", and why each type of student was her favorite student. I loved the message of why it takes so many types of students, and people, to make the world what it is.

Along those same lines, I decided to do a tribute to some of those students who have touched our sons' lives. On one hand, I hate doing something like this, because I hate leaving anyone out, but on the other, I hope people understand that this is but a brief snippet of the great group of kids that our sons have had the honor of going to school with and playing sports with. So many of these kids have been "my favorite" for their own special way of being who they are. The picture above is of Patrick with two of my favorites, Lauren Townsend and Elise Murray. The sad part is that once high school is done, some of these kids we'll never see again. I know that is how life has to be, but it's hard to know that some of these special young people will never be in your life again. So without further adieu....

Why You're My Favorite

Collin Kitts - You make me laugh, and even those times I know I shouldn't be laughing, I still do. You are such an incredibly neat kid, I just loved watching you play soccer, even when you did or said something you shouldn't. I always had a warm spot in my heart for you, maybe because your Mom and Dad are so special to me, or maybe it's just because of you, but I used to always tell Sean, "I just love Collin".

Lauren Townsend - Whether it was singing or in plays, I always loved to watch you perform. Your voice is incredible, and your ability to play dramatic parts, funny parts, any part in a play is amazing. You will do extremely well in whatever you do, your talent is immense.

Jared Magnuson - You exude leadership. I'd joke with you before an event, like the mission trip to Dominican Republic, to make sure to look after Patrick and Sean, and keep them out of trouble. It was really only partially a joke. You are such a great leader, it will serve you well in the future.

JD Baxter - I think if you ever asked Sean the one player he most loved to play with it would be you. You had such amazing energy as a soccer player, you were always going full speed, and never had quit in you. I loved hearing you on the field and seeing you on the field. You never stopped, never gave up, always were talking and always gave it your all.

Elise Murray - You were probably one of the neatest and best things to happen to Patrick and Sean. As quiet and shy as they are, you are so much the opposite. You are fun, you are talkative, you are an incredible bundle of energy that keeps them on their toes. You have a great personality that will take you far.

Kevin Cooper - If all kids, or people, in this world had a heart like Kevin Cooper, the world would be a much better place. I just read the letters you gave to Patrick and Sean for graduation, and your words were so warm and filled with love. You have a huge heart.

Cole Redman - A freshman on the list? That is how special you are. You were the spiritual leader of the Hebron soccer team, and are just flat out a great leader. As a freshman. I can't imagine what you will be like as a senior.

Olivia Ratts - Maybe it's because most of the music, or movies or shows that are your favorites are my favorites too. Or maybe it's because you have touched our sons' lives in so many ways these past few years. House Church is what it is because of you. You have an artist's heart and a fun and bubbly personality that will carry you far.

John Foley - They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Your eyes say that as big and strong as you are, you have an even bigger heart to back it up. I remember how broken up you were when you got red carded and had to sit out. You felt you let your team down. You took goals given up and losses to heart, much more than you should have. That is why you are such a great young man.

Dino Favara - When the boys first went to Hebron, I kept hearing this name - Dino. Dino did this, Dino said that. I came to find out that you were a very funny young man, but I guess what I really appreciated was that you were one of the first to really welcome Patrick and Sean into a new school. We worried a lot moving them their junior year, but you, and others like you, made the transition go almost flawlessly.

OK, I promised myself I would limit it to 10, or I could go on and on. Each of the young people above bring their own special talent and personality to the world, and that's what makes it all so beautiful. We love them for what each of one of them has and what each one of them brings. The leaders, the class clowns, the musically talented, the athletically talented, the happy ones, the brooders, each brings his or her own fingerprint to the canvas, and because of who they are and what they bring, we just love them. Thank God, they've been in Patrick and Sean's lives, and in my life.

Thank a Teacher!

Editor's Note: I really wish I could
take credit for this one, but the credit has
to go to Dave Carr. If you want to read a thought-provoking, inspirational blog, go to www.carrpediem.blogspot.com. If you're happy reading the meandering of someone whose head is stuffed with fluff, well, read on.

I started teaching accounting at nights at Georgia Gwinnett College (GGC) last fall. I teach one class each term, believe me, it's enough. For those of you who are teachers, I'm not telling you anything you don't know. Teaching is incredibly hard. You put in a significant amount of hours preparing, planning, strategizing, trying to figure out how best to present the material so that students will learn it and get it. You have the struggle of balancing the material, some students "get it" quickly and easily, and some students, unfortunately, will never get it. You try to balance how you present to keep it from being boring for some and keep it from being overwhelming for others. I've asked experienced teachers, and they struggle with this issue, so I don't think I'm going to master it anytime soon. And to be honest, I teach accounting, which isn't the most thrilling topic to try to teach students. My class is one night a week, so 2 1/2 hours of accounting. It beats watching paint dry, but it's not always easy to liven up an accounting class. When in doubt, I do my usual, I tell stories. I figure if I at least tell them some real life stories about how accounting works, the subject may stick a little better.

Teaching in so many ways can be thankless. Again, nothing new that I'm telling full-time teachers. You work hard to prepare, try to make the class interesting, try to educate, and you still end up with a certain portion that may not try, may not show up, don't do the homework, don't pass the class. As much as you try to tell yourself that you can't do the work for them, you still feel like a failure when your students fail. It hurts to know that you simply didn't reach a certain portion of your students.

One of the things that GGC does is offer a program to students called "Thank a Teacher". They ask students to write a note or letter that can provided to a teacher if they want to thank them for something they've done. I've received one each term, thankfully, and I passed it on to a few of my Small Group members from Dayton because it made me feel good. As one of them, a college professor, said, teaching is like golf. When you're a golfer, you always remember that one great shot you hit during the round that keeps you coming back. When you're a teacher, you don't get many thank you's, but that one that you do get, keeps you motivated, keeps you excited to do it again.

Dave Carr challenged me, and I am now challenging any of you that read my blog. Thank a teacher. Or if it's not a teacher, thank a mentor, thank a minister, a youth leader, someone who has touched or touches your life. As Dave would suggest, don't type it, don't do it by e-mail, write a simple, hand-written note, give it to them personally, or mail it to them. Speaking from one who recently was thanked, I can assure you, you will make someone's day if you give them a simple thank you for what they've done in your life.

I plan to take the challenge from Dave and start today. By the way, the picture above is of Patrick and Sean with their music teacher, Steve Burkholder. As I've said before, every child should have a Steve Burkholder in his or her life. We have tried to continually tell Steve what he has meant to Patrick and Sean, and to us. I figured posting a picture of the boys with such an incredible teacher was a fitting way to highlight this post. Please, take the challenge, thank a teacher!

What Are We Teaching Our Children?

I had a bit of a paradoxical weekend. Let me start with the last part first. I'm not a huge NBA fan, but on Sportscenter this morning, they had a clip of Rajon Rondo dislocating his elbow, and then coming back later in the game, essentially playing with one good arm, but still playing and motivating his team with his determination. They then showed various clips from history - Willis Reed playing in a Game 7 with a torn thigh muscle, Jack Youngblood playing with a broken leg in a championship game, Emmit Smith playing in a championship game with a dislocated shoulder, Kirk Gibson hitting a game winning home run on one leg. I've actually used the Willis Reed clip to motivate my son to come back from an injury for a big game.

For the most part, we shouldn't view professional athletes as our heroes. They are human, and they have flaws just like all of us do. We should be looking to our family, teachers, coaches, ministers, and those close to us as our heroes. Still, those events noted above are heroic efforts that are etched in our memories and should be viewed as heroic efforts.

Which brings me to the beginning of the weekend, our high school soccer playoff game. Hebron Christian Academy was playing in the quarterfinals against Pace Academy. Pace was ranked number 2 in the state, and were a very good team. What was so troubling was that so many of the Pace players resorted to diving during the game. For those that aren't familiar with soccer, diving is a technique to pretend you are fouled by the opponent by falling down, when in reality, you weren't fouled. If you can get the call from the referee, you get a free kick and an advantage. This has grown in popularity since it works so well in World Cup and other professional soccer venues.

On one hand, it becomes painfully obvious why soccer has never really caught on in America, and most likely never will. While it is a great sport and very popular with kids, we prefer our athletes to display heroic acts, like Jack Youngblood, Kirk Gibson, or Willis Reed. While I'm sure there have been many great soccer players, like John Terry or Franz Beckenbauer, who have done heroic things on the field, too often what kids see are the players who feign injuries, or act like they've been fouled, when in reality, they weren't. It's not something we should be holding up as an ideal for our kids to be shooting for.

On the other hand, I have a far greater concern for our children as we move forward. What are we teaching them? I've always told my sons, if I ever see you take a dive on the field, if your coach doesn't pull you off the field, I will. Diving is cheating, it's dishonorable, it's unethical. While some kids may come upon this naturally by imitation by watching professional soccer, when a team does it consistently, it is obvious that it is being coached and encouraged. Coaches are also teachers and leaders of our children, so what are we teaching them to do? What are we telling them is appropriate? When you get to college, if you can cheat on one of your exams, and get an A, that's OK. As long as you don't get caught. When you get into the work world, if you can take credit for another colleague's work, but not get caught, that's OK. Winning is all that matters, at any cost.

I'm very thankful that each of the coaches my sons have had in their lives have encouraged them to play hard, but play within the rules of the game. I wouldn't have it any other way. I would encourage those coaches out there that advocate winning at all cost, who advocate diving or other unethical methods to winning, to look in the mirror and consider what their role is in our children's lives. Do you want to develop the next Thurgood Marshall or Albert Schweitzer or do you want to develop the next Bernard Madoff or Kenneth Lay? My sons still talk about coaches they had 5-10 years ago with fondness and admiration because of what they taught them. Dave Dickerson, Franklin Lawson, Colin Hutton, Bob Gardner and Henry Hardin will be some of the names etched in my sons' memories for what they taught them, which was play hard, play as a team, play to win, but always play fair and within the rules.

In the end, we learn so much, no matter what the lesson is. In this case, we learned that winning really doesn't matter nearly as much as losing with dignity and with class. Just as the coaches need to be able to look at themselves in the mirror, the players need to be able to look at themselves in the mirror. While as spectators we can guess at the motives for a dive, only the player himself knows his own motives. Except for God of course, who knows all of our motives, but then again, that's a whole different story. At the end of the day, we all need to be able to look in the mirror and feel good about what we see. I can't imagine that winning at all costs would provide a pleasant picture looking back at me.

A Pirate Looks at 40 - Well, Okay, 50

This is a picture of Laurel and me with Kelly when she graduated from college last December. I don't like to post pictures of myself, as I've grown older, I have that Nancy Reagan head thing going, my head is way too big for my body. But, I digress.

I turned 50 this year. The funny thing is that those age milestones never really bothered me. Whether it was 30, 40, now 50, it really doesn't bother me. It's those kid milestones that are killing me. And 2009-2011 has been a killer for me. Kelly, my star for not causing me to feel old (more on that later), started it with graduating from college last December, our first college graduate. Then Megan got engaged this year. Then the boys started their senior year of high school. Next year, we have to look forward to Megan getting married, our first marriage. And the boys graduate from high school and head off to college. And Laurel and I are empty nesters. Bam! You're old Steve. Most of the time, you get it in small doses, but all of a sudden, it's several two by fours across the head. I guess the roller coaster is picking up speed, and I'm telling you, I'm hanging on for dear life.

As noted, most of the time you get hit with this in small doses. I remember putting Megan on the school bus for the first time. I remember walking her through the high school for the first time to show her where her classes were. Each time you hit those first milestones with your first child, it really ages you. I reminisced back to when Megan would be riding with me in the car, singing Pete Townshend's "After The Fire". It's incredible to hear a five year old singing, "I've got to stop drinking, I've got to stop thinking, I've got to stop smoking." Bam! You're old Steve.

Now we're hitting the "lasts". Every year we take a picture on the first day of school. It killed me to realize this was our last year after 20+ years of taking these pictures when we took Patrick and Sean's pictures this year. In a few months, it will be our last high school graduation. Then a few more months, and our last children at home. Yesterday, the boys were sitting in a laundry basket in front of the TV watching Barney. Tomorrow, they are headed off to college. Bam! You're old Steve.

So most of the time Kelly has spared me from this since she's the middle child and isn't a first or a last, she's always in the middle. Even Kelly didn't spare me, she was our first to graduate from college. Thanks Kelly. Yesterday, she was our "Little Angel From Heaven", running back to her crib to go to bed, today, she's a college graduate. Et tu, Kelly? Even you would do this to me? Bam! You're old Steve.

What the heck happened? How did they all grow up so quickly? Can someone please find the brakes for this roller coaster? I know most of us go through this, and some of us handle this better than others, but I have to be honest, I'm not handling this well. I'm doing my best to slow it all down, but it's funny, there isn't a whole lot you can do to slow down time. Megan will get married. Patrick and Sean will graduate and go off to college. Kelly will move out, no matter how many times I tell her she's not allowed (I'm kidding Kelly). And we will be empty nesters. Bam!

OK, in my head, I know this is the way life is supposed to be. Children are a gift from God, and we only get so much time with them, they're not ours, they're His, and we have our time with them until they move on and lead their own lives. I can still share in their lives once they're grown, but it won't be the same as what we had when they were growing up. In my heart, it hurts. But even my heart tells me, this is the way it's supposed to be. We live, we love, and even though we we get older, and it's not the same, we still love, we will always love.

So, we have a few more months. It's amazing at this point in your life how much you can enjoy a bedroom with clothes all over the floor, a sink full of dirty dishes, a laundry basket full of barely worn clothes, singing and guitar music at 11 o'clock at night and unexpected kids coming to your house around dinner time. There's plenty of time for a clean and quiet house. Plenty of time.

Because They Loved Us

"You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them - Bishop Desmond Tutu"

Last week, I was out of town, and I had an incredibly vivid dream. I was at a family reunion, and all of my cousins were there. I guess I have Facebook to thank for that. I'm not a huge fan of Facebook, but I still keep active on it because I can stay up to date on what my cousins are doing. Since I see so much about their lives, I guess they were in my subconscious, hence the dream with all of them in it.

We did have a real family reunion this summer. We hadn't had one in about seven years or so. We get together at my cousin Marlene's house in Columbus, Ohio, she has a nice, big backyard, and it's a great place for us to all get together. We had relatives from Ohio, Pennsylvania, Florida, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, California, New Jersey and Colorado there. I'm sure I missed a state or two, but we came together, simply because of the love of my Mother and her sisters and brother, and our love for each other.

My Mother and her siblings grew up in an orphanage many years ago after their parents died when they were young. I don't know the stories nearly as well as some of my older cousins, but I do know that my Aunt Bessie did not live in "the home" like the rest, because she was older. But she would go and pick up the boys at one home and the girls at another home each Sunday to get them together for a picnic. They always had a special bond growing up because of what they went through.

That carried forward through their lives and through our lives. I remember visiting my cousins quite a bit growing up and going to stay with them at various times when I was growing up. I always had a special bond with my cousins, and while we are an eclectic group of personalities, I still have such a special feeling for all of them, they were such a huge part of my life. While distance and the years have caused us to grow apart, for that one day, it was like old times, but maybe with a little more gray hair, or in some of our cases, a little less hair. I know it sounds crazy, but that dream the other night took me back once again to that special time last summer when we spent the day together. The really fun thing about the day was watching my Mother and her sisters and brother, just sitting together, enjoying each other's company. They ended up closing the party down, not wanting the day to end.

But the party did end, and again, we went our separate ways. I find it hard to believe I'm saying this, but thank God for Facebook. I love seeing the posts from all of my cousins, what's going on in their lives, what's important to them, what their children are doing, what makes them happy and what makes them sad. And periodically, I can dream and see them all again. It may seem crazy, but that's OK, I can live with that. They are a a gift to me, and I have my Mom and my aunts and uncles to thank for that.

Wisdom of Our Fathers

For Father's Day last year I bought my Father "Wisdom of Our Fathers" by the late Tim Russert. It has a picture in it of a good friend of mine, Dave Carr, with his father, so I told Dave about buying it. Dave asked if I had written my own "chapter" for my Dad, which I hadn't. Of course, Dave never has a bad idea, so I've been planning to write my own chapter for a while, so here goes.

Wisdom of My Father

Like so many of us, I have a great deal that I owe my Father in who I am and who I turned out to be. Some of the major things he taught me:

Honor Your Mother - I remember one Mother's Day when I was in high school, and I was having trouble with a girlfriend. We were supposed to take my Mother out for Mother's Day dinner, but I didn't want to go, I wanted to go over to my girlfriend's house to work out the problem. I knew my Dad would understand if I passed on taking Mom out to dinner. So I went into the bathroom where he was shaving, getting ready for the night, and asked him, "Dad, is it OK if I don't go tonight?" He turned and looked at me with a very clear and steady look, and simply said, "No." I knew that there would be no more discussion, no negotiation. Message heard loud and clear.

Love Your Children - My Father never claimed credit for this, but he had a saying or way of looking at things when you were down about money or your situation in life. He'd ask me, "Would you trade any of your children for a million dollars?". Well, of course not. He'd say, "You have four children, so I guess you have at least $4 million." Maybe very simplistic, but an easy way to keep focused on what's most important.

Value Everyone No Matter What They Do - Probably one of the greatest work lessons I've ever learned, and it's served me well, is to value everyone in the workforce. I remember him telling me, "Even if someone pushes a broom, if they work hard, you value them for what they do." One of the quickest ways someone would incur my wrath at work was if they would tell me they were "just a peon". I tend to be very easy going at work, but no matter what else was going on or what needed to be done, if someone ever said that to me, they would get a meeting and discussion on how valuable they were or are to the organization. Everyone, no matter what their position, contributes to the success of a company. Thanks to my Dad for first teaching me this lesson.

Hard Work Is Important - My Dad quit high school in the 9th grade and became a truck driver. He eventually worked his way up to being a manager of a truck terminal. At one point, he went 17 years or so without a single day off, no sick day, no vacation, no nothing. I learned this lesson a little too well, and this probably wasn't the best lesson he ever taught me. Thankfully, I was never quite that bad, and I have improved over time. I have learned that there are times to work hard, and there are times to play. I still struggle with the play, but old habits or teachings die hard.

It's OK to Cry - I will never forget when my Grandfather died. He was the first person that died that was close to me. I remember getting ready in the morning the day after he died, and I heard this strange sound coming from my parent's bedroom. I went in, and it was my Dad crying. I had never heard him cry in my life. It was a strange, surreal experience, but I knew it was OK, and I knew how much my Dad loved his Father.

Did I learn more than just this? You bet. When I got out of college I learned how smart my Dad was. When I had to buy a car, buy a house, start my family, I found out my Dad was much smarter than me, imagine that. But those are the normal things that all of us go through as we grow up. My Dad taught me so much about how to do the important things in life, but more importantly, he taught me about the important things in life. That has made all the difference.