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.
I used to go to a church that, hmmm, how to say this...was very isolationist. Provincial. Well insulated. An island of sorts. Like no man is. That kind of thing. It was impressed on the congregation that it was THE church and the other ones just couldn't measure up. Those churches did things we would never do in ways that we would never do them if we ever did do them. The first few years I went there I often invited friends to come because the teaching was sound. After awhile I invited friends because I figured they needed a church as good as mine. And eventually I quit inviting friends because I was embarrassed at the arrogance of my church.
For a stack of reasons my family moved on from that church and I've noticed a change in my heart that wouldn't have been easily rendered had we stayed. I first noticed it when a very charismatic couple visited us. I was able to talk with the wife briefly and found just how different we were but saw a glimpse of how much they could add to our growth. And maybe we could do the same for them.
I've also found myself inviting friends, not because I thought that we had so much to offer them but because they had so much to offer us.
And an even weirder thing, I've been excited for friends who have left for a different church and for others whose ministry in their church is growing.
Admittedly, it is weird that this is even weird.
I want to spend time with fellow believers who might do things differently than I would, but whose goal is still Gods great glory. And I wouldn't be wrong to say that this new (to us) way of thinking is shared by our church and its leadership.
We come from and maintain a mindset rooted deep in the knowledge of Scripture but we haven't been the best at exercising that knowledge in the kind of love that Jesus was known for. We are willing and learning. We want you, brothers and sisters, to come alongside us. We are seeing where we have been weak.
We are seeing that this Church is big enough for the both of us.
Now I know that some will see this as some white flag waving ecumenisism. I would have called it that several years ago. No, this is not that. I'm not offering to help set up chairs at a consortium of the maritally confused. Nor am I offering to open the doors for a prayer to the generic god of the deificly deficient. Rest at ease, we should keep this all in the Family, realizing that the family is, more (cough, cough) diverse than we might admit. That word is ours. We can use it.
I'm looking forward to seeing you at church on Sunday, in serving during the week, playing with our children, or on the front porch with a beer.
My son is at the age that compels people to ask if he is going to be attending preschool soon because "you have to get them socialized at this age".
Yeah, because putting together twenty plus toddlers will teach them great things.
Isn't this what parents are for? Barring, of course, extenuating circumstances.
A mother and her children getting together with another mother and her children do a far better job "socializin' the youngin's" than pre-school ever will. Mothers know what sin issues their children are dealing with and can instruct and discipline appropriately. At least they should be learning to be competent on the subject of their children.
The other question that comes up is what plans we have for our sons K-12 education. Growing up myself as an Unsocialized Homeschooler I have friends (shocker!) that all fall into the three main categories, so I'll make sure to offend with equality. Our response to each is generally thus:
-Private school, preferably.
-Homeschool, er...uh..ugh maaayybee?
-Government school? Cue crickets, wind dusted tumbleweed and a lone coyote howl... I hope not. Maybe waaay later?
But in answering those three questions the first response is often "Well, if you homeschool, how will you socialize your child? They have to be socialized, you know?" This is when I try hard not to laugh at them, pat them on the head and hand them a lollipop. It's not that it is an unnecessary question but that it is so ignorantly biased and insulting. I've never been compelled to ask someone who is considering private school how they plan to keep their children from becoming snobby and insular. Nor have I asked someone considering public school how they plan to keep their child from wearing a trench coat, bringing a gun to school and slaying their entire classroom.
Simple observation can answer the socialization question. I can take 20 people I know, who are over the age of 22 and you wouldn't be able to tell how they were schooled. Most government schoolers make it out alive and without killing anyone. The private school snobbyness looses its shine, the awkward homeschooler is no longer awkward. And he probably would have been awkward at any school.
Schooling has little to do with your post-school social life. Parenting has everything to do with a childs in-school social life. Proper socialization and fighting snobbery is equally important for the government schooler, the private schooler and the homeschooler.
Easy stuff for me to say when it's all theory and my child hasn't started school yet.
