The man acting with a pure conscience and in accord with God is not offended when he faces overwhelming opposition nor does he demand apologies though regularly slandered and ridiculed. He knows that his detractors are enraged at the God he represents.
On the other hand, the man acting in sin will doggedly persue an apology from those confronting him in an effort to gain approval for his sin. And he will often do so when there is only one standing against him in his sin.
I just recently started reading Little House on the Prairie to my son. It is the exact same book I had as a child, the same one my Dad read to me in our living room. I remember those times so vividly, as vividly as possible anyway. I recall the smell of coffee on my dads breath- Folgers, in the days before fancy coffee. Sometimes dad still had the heavy scent of paint from work. Both of those smells today immediately kindle these memories. I remember the black vinyl chair that was my dads. That chair that I thought was leather and cut up and turned into moccasins (no doubt inspired by cowboy and Indian stories dad had read to us) for my baby sister a few years later when the chair had endured so much of my brother and I climbing onto its squeaky armrests, vying for position to see the few pictures in the Little House books. Dad read us Drama in Real Life from Readers Digest, too. Many of those stories stuck in my head, plane crashes and bear attacks boiling up the excitement in me for adventure. The stories were always riveting, not just for their content but for the way dad would read, different voices for each character. The fun he seemed to have for reading to us played no small part in my love of reading.
I had almost forgotten that I still had those Little House books hidden back on the shelf behind an array of thick cardstock books that Ethan is used to reading. I wasn't sure that a book so lacking in pictures would fire his interest when I stumbled upon them two weeks ago. I started reading as he lay in bed expecting him to grab that annoying Spiderman book (pronounced "cyberman" by Ethan, in spite of his best efforts to correct himself) and beg me to read it instead. But he didn't. He stared off almost as if he was imagining the places I described, the people whose voices had their own accent, the creaking of the wagon and the smell of the sweating horses so well described in the book. I read him three chapters before my voice couldn't take the strain of imitating the various characters. He was ready for more, not just because he didn't want to go to sleep but a genuine interest seemed to be started in him.
I don't have many pictures of myself growing up. Ethans aunts and uncles and a grandma choose to distance themselves from us. It's easy for a bit of melancholy to hit me at times when I consider that there are parts of my history that he won't likely ever know because there aren't family around to tell him. But reading these books, my books from my childhood help in a small way to share part of my youth with him.
I have been in a wedding party where the best man kept whispering to the groom that he had the car ready and could get the "doomed" husband out of town poste haste!
Not the kind of best man you want at a good wedding.
On the other hand, it got me thinking about a Christian friend who considered attending a homosexual wedding mimicry. Indeed, that man would be the best man to have at that wedding, keys in hand, lunch packed, the car is running, salvation is waiting....
I may have mentioned this before, maybe not. I never expected to live passed 30. I didn't think 30 was old, I just figured I'd do something stupid and that would be the end for me. Not sure how I arrived at that conclusion but I'm glad I was wrong. The last 6 years have been the best. Part of the reason that I started blogging was to give my son a view into my growth as his father. That I didn't have all the answers, but was wanting to learn and grow for his benefit.
I'll keep blogging in my intermittent fashion (I've got a dozen unfinished posts to mull over) but if I could boil some advice down here's a few things I'd grocery list for him:
1- Sing without shame in the car.
2- Don't have to many heroes. This is a title you should use sparingly.
3- Heroes aren't sports stars
4- Eat lunch at that weird place. Fast food may be risky but it's never exciting
5- Naps are cheap vacations
6- Buy cast iron cookware.
7- You can't be a good parent if you're a bad spouse.
8- Choose to not be offended. This is life changing
9- Treat every gun as if it was loaded
10- If it hurts physically, suck it up
11- Take responsibility.
12- Be content with being quiet and alone
13- Don't "pray". Instead talk with God. He listens
14- Treat waitstaff with respect. And tip well
15- Be competent with a manual transmission
16- If you want a lifetime of regret be angry.
17- Read. Always have a book close by.
18- Open doors for people. Doing so still surprises them
19- When your friend locks himself out of his car and calls from 60 miles away at 10:30 at night and asks you to bring him his spare keys do it. Even if you have to get up at 4:30 the next morning.
20- When that same "friend" turns his back on you a couple years later, forgive him. It's an exercise in Godliness
21- You can be cheap on many things but don't skimp on socks. Buy quality
22- Sometimes being right with God will make you not right with anyone else. It's still better than the reverse
23- Maintain friendships with people quite a bit older than you. You'll learn much and their wisdom can be invaluable
24- Maintain relationships with people fairly younger than you. You know things they need to learn. And they'll remind you of things you've forgotten.
The time since I last posted has intermittently gone faster and slower than a slug in molasses. I've been sick enough to loose 12+ years of weight gain and recovered enough to get back six of those years. My church and other family has helped us through sick weeks off of work with meals, money, visits and most of all prayers. You can look at how they have taken care of us and get a glimpse of the face of God.
And right now I can look out the window and see the hospital a few miles away where I spent a recent week. That was a week of slugs swimming in molasses. I'm much more comfortable viewing it from the outside. From this angle the sun is dipping low, creating blues and greys and hints of pink. Dinner is finished and now we relax, my bride is to my right and my son to my left, contentedly sucking his thumb and rolling the silky edge of his blanket in his fingers and watching Curious George. I taste a bit of rye on my tongue and after breathing in to feel its spicy bite I sip an anise liqueur.The flavors are very different but I find them highly friendly. I am enjoying life with a different perspective.
I am full.
And I am drunk.
Not full of food nor drunk on the adult beverage in my cup but full of thankfulness and drunk on the richness of the last week. My first week back to a full schedule in seven weeks. The kind of work that invigorates in the way it strips you down to a tired core. A start to the weekend with friends. Friends who we have great discussion about eternal things with and I so badly want to join the Christian family. (It's good to be His, now get on board!) Another friends daughter who stayed the weekend with us while in town visiting with her soon to be husbands family. It has been exciting to see her grow from baby to lady. It doesn't make me feel old so much as enriched to have been a part of her families life.
My cousin and two of her daughters came over on Sunday, bringing my Grandma and Grandpa who I haven't seen in probably 10 years. More than anything I was excited to see them. My mom and her mom have always been on the outs with each other and I didn't know my grandparents well growing up. I don't know what to think of their disagreements but they don't concern me anyway. My grandparents are my Grandparents. We caught up, but not enough to our satisfaction, and we'll have to see them again soon.
When they left I felt immensely heavy hearted even through the high of the renewed relationship. I wished that several other family members could be there to experience that joy. To feel so thankful for the kind of work that God can do through people who are not brought down by bitterness but lifted up in thankfulness. Sadly bitterness, unforgiving hearts and a lack of gratitude will keep their bearers away from real connection with God and man. My wife and I fight against that in our lives. I can look to my Dad as an example and we are surrounded by a church that promotes thankful living for God. By the Grace of God the legacy we leave for our son will be to live that way.
And only by His Grace and good work in our lives will it be possible.
It is a good day.
