A Story for Marie

Editor's Note - This story could be for any of the six Kellar children.  Or really, it could be for any of my cousins.  You see, I am lucky enough to have the best cousins anyone could ever wish for.  We owe it all to the Irving siblings, an amazing group of women, and a couple men, who have endured and triumphed over so much to give us all a great deal of love and appreciation for family.  I love my cousins dearly, and they are the only reason that I suffer through maintaining my account on Facebook.  For those that know me best, I despise so much about Facebook, but the one thing that keeps me there is being able to get updates on what my cousins are doing. 

The one who keeps me in touch and connected the most is my cousin Marie, and because of her dedication and devotion to her father, Bob Kellar, I wanted to write a brief, and probably not so eloquent story about his recent passing.  As my cousins and I get older, we sadly face the reality that our parents are not going to be with us much longer.  Some have gone before him, and many will go after him.  Their love will endure the test of time, however, and it's up to us to carry that forward. 

My apologies to the great writers, my apologies to those who can come up with really good titles, this is my work of fiction titled

A Story for Marie

St. Peter walked pensively into the room, trying to figure out what to say.  He thought to himself, what will He say?  What will He do?  He can be such an angry God, I just don't want to catch Him on a bad day, but He has to be told!

"Um, God, can we talk?"

"Peter, come in, what seems to be troubling you?"

"We're having a, well a bit of a problem with the stars God.  We can't seem to keep them lit."

"Peter, that shouldn't be an issue, we have so many bright minds you can call upon, have you talked to Ben Franklin?  What about Tom Edison?  I'm sure one of them can figure it out," God said dismissively.

St. Peter let out a big sigh, "I've consulted them both, but, but all they know is theory, Sir!  If I hear one more time how to make a lightbulb for God's sake.... um, I'm sorry Sir."

God shook his head, "Peter, we've been around for ages of course, and it's not like a few flickering stars is the end of the world, I'm sure someone will figure it out, just let time take its course."

St. Peter got up some nerve and said, "But God, it's Christmas and all, and people really want to see the star.  I know it's not nearly as important as when your Son was born, but still, people really look forward to it each year.  It may not be that important to all of us, but it is to all of them."

God sighed again, "I know, Peter, you're right, we have to do something.  Are you sure Franklin or Edison can't help?"

St. Peter raised his arms to the sky, "They treat me like I'm an idiot God, if I hear one more theory on how electricity works.... I mean I'm St. Peter, I think I know!"

"OK, OK, we need to find someone else.  Is there anyone you can think of Peter?"

"Well, God, there is this one guy.  He's really good, one of the best.  There's just one problem."

"And?"

"He's still alive."

God got furious, "Peter!  What kind of insanity is this?  You know that this is against all the rules!"

"God, I know, but ... he's led a good life, he doesn't have a lot longer, can we at least approach him, talk to him, run the idea past him?"

God sat back, tapped his forehead, and thought for a few moments.  "Who is he, Peter?"

St. Peter quickly replied, "Bob Kellar, Sir!"

God fell back in his chair, "Peter, Bob's a fighter, he's endured hardships throughout his life, I'm sure he has a lot of years left."

"God, please, just let me talk to him, he's a good man, I'm sure he'd be willing to help if he knew the severity of the problem."

God sighed yet again, "OK, give it a shot, but do not mislead him, do not tell him he doesn't have a choice, remember, free will, we want to ensure they have free will, no matter what!"

St. Peter quickly scurried off to talk to Bob Kellar to see if he could fix this nasty lighting problem with the stars.  He was sure that it could be solved, all he needed was the right person on the job.

As St. Peter approached Bob, he could see that Bob was tired.  All the years of working so hard had left a toll on Bob.  Could this be the one that can help me, St. Peter thought?  He looks so worn.  St. Peter approached quietly and cautiously, and said, "Mr. Kellar?"

Bob raised his eyes up underneath his hat, "Yeah, who are you?"

"St. Peter"

Bob beamed at him, "Really?  Is it time?  I thought I had a few more years in me!"

"Well, a no, it's not time yet, but we have a, well a bit of a problem up in Heaven".

Bob shifted in his chair, sat up a little straighter, and said, "What kind of problem?  And why are you telling me?"

"Well, the fact of the matter is, we can't seem to keep the stars from flickering, and it's getting to be Christmas season, and people really want to see the star, you know, the star, and we can't seem to keep them lit."

"Come on St. Peter, I'm sure you have some great minds up there in Heaven, what can I do?  Can't one of those famous guys fix it?  What about God himself, can't He do it?"

"Well, God doesn't like to deal with these 'small issues', you know, He's quite busy.  And the famous guys, my word, if I hear one more time how Franklin flew the kite and got struck by lightning, I think I'm going to scream."

"St. Peter, I'm just a normal electrician, a simple man.  How in the world could I help?"

"Mr. Kellar, you're supposed to be the best, and you're one of the hardest workers the world has ever seen.  But, I'm just a little worried, you seem a bit more, um, tired, than I imagined.  I'm not entirely sure you're up for the job."

Bob Kellar sat up straight and glared at St. Peter, "Worn?  Come a little closer Pete, and let me show you how worn I am!"

St. Peter quickly backed off and apologized, "I'm so sorry Mr. Kellar, I didn't mean to offend you, I just wasn't sure you were up to the task."

"OK, tell me the deal, what do you need?"

"Well, the difficult part of it all of course, is that you would need to, well, ah, leave this world.  Then you would have to figure out why in the world the stars aren't working."

"Leave this world huh?  That's a tough one.  I got six great kids.  13 grandchildren.  Just had my first great grandchild.  Be tough to leave all that, I don't know St. Peter."

"I understand Mr. Kellar, I understand.  We'll get by I'm sure.  Maybe that insufferable Ben Franklin will figure something out, I don't know, but I do understand."  St. Peter lowered his head and started to leave.

"Wait, hold on a second, St. Peter.  You know, I do have six great kids, and really, there's really not a whole lot more I can do to make their lives better.  But I'll bet I can do a lot up in Heaven to help things out.  If you need me, I'm there for you."

St. Peter was elated, "Mr. Kellar, thank you so much, you can't imagine what this means to me and to God, I'm sure.  Mr. Kellar, I'm sure you won't regret this."

"Well, I will miss seeing my kids.  And those grand kids.  And that sweet little great grandchild.  But it's time, I have so much left to give, and I'll be able to see them every day and touch their lives somehow.  I may be gone, but I'll still be there."

As God was sitting admiring his creation the one day, St. Peter walked in proudly, beaming from ear to ear.  "Peter, what are you so happy about?"

"The stars are fixed Sir!  Even the Christmas star!"

"Fantastic Peter, how did you manage that?  Franklin?  Edison?"

St. Peter laughed, "Oh my God, oops, sorry Sir, no.  They only know theory.  I brought in someone who can make things happen.  Bob Kellar fixed the problem for us!"

"I told you that you should get Bob Kellar, I knew he could do it.  He's a worker, a doer."

St. Peter looked surprised, "You told me... ah, yes Sir, yes, You had a great idea, I should have listened to You sooner."

A Prayer for Civility

I need to provide a little background for this post.  I'm really not a big fan of discussing politics, and I've become less of a fan over the last few years with the negative tone that all political ads, debates and discussions have taken.  There has always been contention and fighting between the parties, that's the way the system was designed, and for the most part over the years, it seemed to have worked.  The goal always seemed to be the greater good, but maybe I was just too naive.  Maybe the goal always was to make yourself look better, or better yet, make your opponent look much worse. 

Anyway, the tone from the two parties has been largely negative, and in the era of continuous and constant connectivity, it has spilled over into our everyday lives and in all of our communication.  Whether it's news feeds on the internet, television or social media like Facebook, we get a constant barrage of negativity.  Very little "my candidate is the best because ..." or "my party has the best interest of the country because ...", but negativity or personal attacks on the various candidates.  OK, I'm not telling anyone anything new here, I realize that.

Where it really hit me was when two of my cousins, who I love dearly, started sniping at each other on Facebook.  While politics can be and will be contentious, it doesn't have to be personal.  When I saw the posts back and forth, it reminded me of hearing the stories from history that talked about brother versus brother fighting in the Civil War.  So, it inspired me to a Prayer of Civility, that is not affiliated with any political party, it's bi-partisan, not endorsed by Fox or MSNBC, not affiliated with any particular religious denomination.  And it goes something like this:

"Gracious God, I'd like to lift up the following people to you in prayer, and ask you to look over them and help them see their way through these difficult times. 

I lift up to you, President Obama and Vice President Biden and I ask that you look after them as the Republican National Committee and groups such as Fox News and the Tea Party unleash their venom of hatred and lies toward them during this election year.

I lift up to you, Presidential Candidate Mitt Romney and his running mate Paul Ryan and I ask that you protect them as the Democratic National Committee and groups such as MSNBC and MoveOn.org attack them with vicious attacks on their personal character and beliefs during this election year.

I lift up to you all of those people that use you and your son, Jesus Christ, and try to align their party with what you would have us do.  Help them to understand, Jesus would never be a Republican, He would never be a Democrat, Jesus was a radical, and He would be appalled at anyone trying to align their political agenda with His teachings.

I lift up to you our nation as we have grown more and more into worshipping other names besides yours, names like Prada, Gucci, Lexus, Nike, help us to see that the worship of things, and the money that buys those things, is very short-sighted and short-lived.

I ask that you help some of us to see that not everyone who is on welfare is on welfare because they are shiftless and lazy. 

I ask that you help some of us to see that not everyone who is rich, or corporations that are rich, are greedy and self-serving.

I ask that you help some of us to see that just because someone is different, a different religion, different national origin, different sexual orientation, different race, that doesn't mean that they are inherently evil or bad.

I ask that you help our politicians see that compromise, working together, listening to one another, isn't a weakness, it's a strength.  We're all in this together, and the only way to grow and improve this nation, and our world, is through working together.

Finally, Lord, I ask that you help me to walk the talk.  It's easy to say all of these things, but it's much harder to live them.  Help me to practice what I preach.

In Jesus name, I pray, Amen."

The Death of Sandlot Sports - And So Much More?

Many, many years ago, I remember we used to go up to Scharman Field everyday during the summer for pickup baseball games.  We'd have a handful of kids show up, someone would have a bat, someone would have a ball, some would have baseball gloves.  If you were lucky, at least one person was left-handed and had a left-handed mitt, if not you'd have to wear a glove on the wrong hand.  When you'd go from the field to batting, you'd throw your glove to a guy from the other team because you never had enough gloves to play.  You'd always end up with an odd assortment, various kids you didn't know, never enough to field two full teams.  You'd pick up teams, sometimes an even number, sometimes not, usually something like five against five.  For those who understand baseball, traditionally, it's nine against nine.  When you have five against five or less, you had to get creative.

You'd have a pitcher, two infielders and two outfielders in the field for those times you were lucky enough to have five against five.  Right handed batters could hit to center field and left field, left handed batters could hit to center field and right field.  Outfielders would shift from left field to right field when a left handed batter came up after a right handed batter and vice-versa.  If you hit to the wrong field, it was an automatic out.  The team at bat would have to supply the catcher.  For those times you weren't lucky enough to have five against five, sometimes you'd have imaginary runners.  Sometimes, if you didn't have a first baseman, you'd throw to the pitcher to get the person running to first base out.  You'd then have to judge if the runner beat the throw or not.  You'd have to judge whether the imaginary runner beat the throw or not.  You'd have to imagine ....  Ah, you'd have to imagine.  We imagined so much, we'd imagine we were Willie Mays, Roberto Clemente, Bob Gibson.  By the way, I was always Vida Blue.  But as usual, I digress.

As you can imagine, there would be many points of contention and argument.  Did my imaginary runner beat the throw?  That hit to the outfield, was it directly to center field or slightly to the wrong field, meaning an out.  We threw that guy out at the plate, but your catcher dropped the throw on purpose!  We'd argue and argue, and eventually we'd come to an agreement, and go back to playing.  Or not.  Sometimes, we'd end up fighting.  Sometimes, someone ended up with a bloody nose.  Sometimes, you'd have a kid, who brought the ball or bat, get mad and take his ball or bat and go home.  Then, of course, the game ended, we didn't have a key ingredient to play.  More often than not, that didn't happen, we all had a vested interest in the goal - playing baseball.  We'd play until lunchtime if it was the morning, until dinner in the afternoon and until it was too dark to see the baseball in the evenings.  We lived to play baseball.

Years later, when I coached soccer, I'd always let the kids just play for the last 10-15 minutes of practice, instead of doing drills.  I'd say "no rules, just play, have fun".  Most of the kids could do it, they enjoyed the lack of structure and the chance to just play.  But you had certain kids that just couldn't handle it.  Every couple of minutes, they'd come over to me complaining that the other kids weren't playing according to the rules.  I'd try to explain to them that there weren't any rules, they were just supposed to have fun, but they couldn't deal with it.  They wanted or needed a grown-up to tell them how to play. 

We've given our children complete structure now for sports, set practices, coaches there all the time, parents at practice, parents at games, referees for games, set times, set positions, structure, structure, structure.  No creativity, no negotiation, no fighting, no imagination.  We want to control everything for our children, "protect" them, and in the process, we've taken away their ability to grow and learn and develop their skills for their future grown-up lives. 

I've been wondering lately, is that the problem we have now in our government?  It used to be, or at least it seemed, our political parties could work together.  Sure, they would argue, they would fight, they would bloody each other's noses periodically, but they figured out a way to work together.  They practiced the Stephen Covey approach - seek to understand, before you can be understood.  In the end, they had a vested interest, the good of the country.  It really doesn't seem that way anymore.  It seems like they are looking for someone to tell them what the rules are and how to play fairly together.  They are focused on their own good, their own party's good, and not the good of the country.  In the end, they are willing to take their bat and ball and go home, even if it means the country suffers for it. 

Maybe we need to dump all of the fancy uniforms, the fancy shoes and gloves and bats, the leagues, the "select" programs, the coaches, the referees, and most of all, the parents, and let our kids play again.  Let them grab whatever tools of the trade they can pull together, meet up at the local field, pick up some teams, and just play.  Maybe then we'll develop some future leaders for this country that know how to negotiate, compromise, do what's best for the good of all, and build a better country, and world, for all of us.  I can only imagine.

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.