Category Archives: Awesome Children

Awesome Children, Scripture commentary, Writing

Jonversations

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“Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.” – Colossians 4:6 NIV

My oldest son Jonathan has discovered the power of a good, deep conversation, and with it, his hunger for that kind of connection with the people around him who are willing to go there.

Jonathan putting on his thinking glasses.

The other day, he hit me with a question: “One to ten how much of the natural responsibility you should bear, are you bearing? And one to ten how much of the external responsibility you’ve made a decision to bear, are you bearing?”

I started trying to answer, but also to explain why I struggled to come up with an answer that felt truthful and accurate. I always assume I’m doing terrible, or at best doing only some of what I could do. I always feel like there are responsibilities that I should get to but don’t, or could get to but choose not to, and so on.

He mentioned his growing realization that not everyone is eager to have deep conversations off the cuff and sent me the following:

I asked a coworker that and he was like “I don’t know man, you ask such thought provoking questions and it’s like I’m just about done at work and ready to go home.”

It’s hard to work through some of the challenging or meaningful questions, but it’s also a valuable process I can respect. I’m always excited to hear my children explain something in a way that shows how much they care about a subject. When that veers toward responsibility and self-discipline, and when it incorporates a practical “live it out” aspect of Christian faith, that’s a huge blessing.

So with that in mind, here’s something Jonathan sent me for what he’s been thinking through. I got his permission to share it.

Thoughts on grace and truth, and their relationship to responsibility. 

What is grace?

What is truth?

What is responsibility?

How do grace and truth relate?

How does grace relate to responsibility?

How does truth relate to responsibility?

Why live in grace?

Why live in truth?

Why bear responsibility?

 

What is grace?

Grace is receiving something positive that is not deserved.  

A person manifests grace to herself when she forgives a failure she’s had. A person manifests grace to others when, in a situation allowing harshness, he chooses to be gentle. A person manifests grace to others when she overlooks a wrongdoing or mistake out of love.

What is truth?

Truth is that which is in accordance with fact and reality.

A person manifests truth to himself when he does not deny his failures. A person manifests truth to others when she says her opinion, knowing they may disagree. A person manifests truth to others when he refuses to say something he knows to be inaccurate.

What is responsibility?

Responsibility is being accountable for or having an obligation to someone or something.

A person can have a responsibility to himself to take care of his physical needs. A person can have a responsibility to others that she has taken on. A person can be soundly blamed for neglecting a responsibility within his ability.

How do grace and truth relate?

The two are not similar, and are not opposite or opposed. They do not deal with the same realms in a sense.

Grace seems to be concerned with what a person deserves and the emotions they exhibit.

Truth seems to be concerned with what is, what isn’t, and the reality we inhabit.

And yet both are essential. This can be seen in the person and words of Christ. He was full of grace and truth. He who said “your sins are forgiven.” (walk in grace) also said “go and sin no more.” (walk in truth).

Grace without truth can allow one to be naive, not dealing with reality. With no truth and only grace, one has no backbone or accountability. It is easy to then embrace deception and fantasy.

Truth without grace can allow one to be cruel, not for any virtuous reason. With no grace and only truth, one has no heart or compassion. It is easy to then embrace condescension and spite.

Grace is the the flexibility and truth is the immovability.

To be gracious to someone is to show them kindness and support and forgiveness, to give no room for genuine accusations of being unbearably harsh.

To be truthful with someone is being honest when it’s hard or awkward, to give no room for one bend reality to suit their feelings or opinions.

How does grace relate to responsibility?

One cannot bear it all. He must let up sometimes. He must lay down his burden and rest without shame or judgment.

How does truth relate to responsibility?

One must must bear as much as she can. Her contribution is necessary, and without it she is leaving herself and others hanging.

Why live with grace?

I live with grace because I am not perfect. I am unable at present to experience faultlessness, and if I expect that I can, and so should, I will instead experience the disappointment and dissatisfaction of living without the truth that I need grace.

The absence of grace manifests condemnation and depression.

Why live with truth?

I live with truth because there is nothing apart from it. Apart from truth all is falsehood. If I attempt to live in falsehood, my feet fall into nothingness below me and my heart follows.

The absence of truth manifests disorientation and nihilism.

Why bear responsibility?

I bear responsibility because someone must. If I do not accept responsibility, I push it off to the next person, and maybe they will not accept it either. If I accept my own responsibility daily, I stand between my little slice of the world and the absolute hell that it can become when obligation is neglected. If I accept as many neglected responsibilities of others as I can tolerate, I stand between their slice of the world and hell.

The absence of attended responsibility manifests hell and acceptance of it on earth.

 

I loved his thoughts, because they ring true to me about the necessary balance and interplay between two seemingly opposing qualities or forces. So much of life seems that way, where we falter if we go to the extremes, but can walk carefully and purposefully when we keep ourselves centered between the potential conflicting emotions and motivations.

Finding the proper mix of grace and truth can be a struggle in our interactions with others (and maybe ourselves also). Not trying to do so leads to even worse outcomes.

So let me pull a Jon…

What do YOU think about all this? Is it on target, or off the mark in some way? Are there other aspects or characteristics of grace, truth, and responsibility to consider? How much of your natural and external responsibility are you bearing?

Awesome Children

Still Life

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Yesterday was quite busy, but in a good way–playing music for two services at chapels on base.

In between, we enjoyed a gorgeous afternoon of blue skies, warm sunshine and cool breezes. My little guy wanted to go to the slide park near our place, so I took the opportunity to soak up some rays and enjoy the peaceful rest.

Sitting at the park, enjoying the soft instrumental music they push through the speakers, watching the kids laugh and play, it felt refreshing to simply be still for a moment and absorb what God and nature offered.

It was one of those moments you want to immortalize in some way so you can go back to that place and catch a touch of what you experienced at the time.

I didn’t have my camera, no thanks to a young adult son of mine borrowing the phone to Skype with all his friends.

I did, however, have my Bullet Journal. Yes, I still use that system for my daily planner and long-term schedule as well as for quick records of fond memories and unexpected special moments.

I’m not the greatest artist – I’m good enough that I am content with what I draw for me, but not so good that I can do anything professional with it. Nevertheless, the (fake, manufactured) rocky side of the hill the kids climb on and slide down will forever adorn the January 13th entry of this, my second Bullet Journal.

Awesome Children

Still Life

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Yesterday was quite busy, but in a good way–playing music for two services at chapels on base.

In between, we enjoyed a gorgeous afternoon of blue skies, warm sunshine and cool breezes. My little guy wanted to go to the slide park near our place, so I took the opportunity to soak up some rays and enjoy the peaceful rest.

Sitting at the park, enjoying the soft instrumental music they push through the speakers, watching the kids laugh and play, it felt refreshing to simply be still for a moment and absorb what God and nature offered.

It was one of those moments you want to immortalize in some way so you can go back to that place and catch a touch of what you experienced at the time.

I didn’t have my camera, no thanks to a young adult son of mine borrowing the phone to Skype with all his friends.

I did, however, have my Bullet Journal. Yes, I still use that system for my daily planner and long-term schedule as well as for quick records of fond memories and unexpected special moments.

I’m not the greatest artist – I’m good enough that I am content with what I draw for me, but not so good that I can do anything professional with it. Nevertheless, the (fake, manufactured) rocky side of the hill the kids climb on and slide down will forever adorn the January 13th entry of this, my second Bullet Journal.

Awesome Children

A New Man

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My oldest son, Jonathan, turned 18 today.

My wife and I keep questioning where all the time went, but it has passed at the same rate as always–one second, one minute, one hour, one day at a time.

We’re celebrating the cute lad flopped over in the hands of someone far younger than I feel today.

My wife chose our daughter’s name–our firstborn, so I got to choose the name of our son. I thought of David and Jonathan in the Old Testament, and though the relationship between father and son involves authority and discipline, my hope has always been that as he grew into an adult, we would develop a close bond that goes beyond mere blood relation.

I’m grateful because I believe we have that. As much as sometimes Jon looks up to me, I am impressed by him–by his concern for others, by his passion for God, by his insights and perception and how those translate into meaningful actions.

For the last few years, Jon has been diving deep into a relationship with God that informs how he reacts and relates to the people around him. The shy guy who barely talked to anyone is now teaching weekly studies on how to share your faith with others.

People approach me and tell me how blessed they are by what Jon does and says–how he shares his faith and his struggles with honesty, how he shows genuine love and interest in those around him, how he carries himself with maturity and responsibility.

There are few things better as a parent than hearing people praise your children… though I can’t claim credit for what God has done in and through Jon.

He’s pretty photogenic, too.

Today, perhaps as a sort of birthday present, Jon got word that he has been accepted into LifeCompass, a 4-month program for young adults that will give him experience performing missionary and humanitarian work in Thailand.

He doesn’t have his whole future mapped out yet, but he’s charting a course that involves impacting the lives of others for the better…

As he has mine.

I’m incredibly proud to call this young man my son, my brother in Christ, and my friend.

Did I say he is photogenic? Maybe that was a stretch…
Awesome Children, Writing

Ups and Downs

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I’ve posted about my word count tracker and daily / monthly / yearly goals in the past, but I haven’t provided an update on that in quite some time… probably because I’m disappointed at the low numbers and slow progress. 

Life has been an airplane in severe turbulence for the last two weeks – rapid descents, attempts to climb out of the bumpy ride, moments of radiance above the storm before another cluster of dark clouds obscure everything else.

I know, everyone has results, or excuses–one or the other, rarely both.

My 18-year-old daughter, our oldest child, just got married a week ago. I’m a jumble of equal parts happy celebration and hopeful concern. The Bee heard all our warnings and listened to all our worries. But she remained determined to move forward, and we decided it would be better to stay supportive and connected than to resist and watch her do whatever she pleases without us being a part of her life.

She and her husband just left the island yesterday to head back to the States, where he will probably enlist in the Air Force soon after their return. That’s awesome and provides some certainty of security. 

Our first of four leaving the nest is, naturally, a painful but necessary process. Wifey and I are working through the emotions and adapting to a new normal.

As I typed this, I was sitting at the base exchange getting ready to sign a bunch of copies of Chicken Soup for the Soul: Military Families Edition, in which I am a contributing author. I asked for permission to sign and place an origami bookmark in the two or four copies I expected them to put on the shelves–instead, they decided to order 40 and prepare a display. It’s a cool thought that something of my work will be out there for others to see. 

On top of that, they’re crafting plans for a book signing or at least a meet-and-greet with interested customers. As the manager put it, there’s a community connection and an increased value in “I shook this guy’s hand, I talked with the lady who wrote this story.” (There’s another person on Kadena who contributed, so we’re trying to get both of us into the same place at the same time.)

Signing books at the Base Exchange 

The salespeople in charge of books provided enthusiastic help, placing bookmarks, lining up copies for signatures, and snapping pictures for some eventual publicity. They might even work out a radio spot.

Going from celebrating a wedding, to saying farewell to my daughter and her husband, to experiencing a form of success and publicity as a writer–it’s more chaos than a kindergarten class high on candy and Kool-Aid.

A couple days ago, I drove the newlyweds out to a shopping area so they could get some Indian take-out (my daughter’s last chance to eat at her favorite restaurant on Okinawa) and Japanese candy for relatives in the States. “I’ll just hang out at Starbucks while you do your shopping,” I told them. After all, that writing word count was still looking pretty bleak.

“You could come with us to the candy store when we’re waiting for the food,” she suggested. 

It hit me that pretty soon I’ll have all kinds of time to sit in coffee shops, alone with my writing. I wouldn’t get another such opportunity to have time with my daughter for… well, we’ll see how long it ends up being.

Stickerpics with me third-wheeling
Word counts are a tool, a motivational aid meant to track progress toward the overall goal of completed writing projects. But the word count isn’t the be-all/end-all of writing, and writing isn’t everything there is to life. (It hurts a little to type that.) 

What matters more is the conscious choice about what I’m doing with my time. Word counts can help reveal when my efforts are slipping or when I’m succeeding, but sometimes it’s okay to see that string of zeros. Other things are more important. 

Awesome Children, Poetry

Uprooting and Taking Root

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I posted this on the new Military Community Writers page, which is a new blog for military-affiliated writers to share experiences, stories, advice, and encouragement. Active duty members, Reservists, National Guardsmen, veterans, retired service members, government employees or contractors connected to a military environment, and dependents of any of the above–all voices are welcome.

Here’s my voice for today:
When we prepared to move back to Okinawa, my kids were dealing with the all-too-frequent hardship of leaving behind their friends. I wrote this free-verse poetry, thinking of the advice I’d rather not give them, even if it applies:

Push those roots down

But not too deep

Widespread roots come up easy

Ripping away some clods of dirt

Leaving a scar on the surface

Which quickly covers over

With new grass


Deep roots don’t come up

Without violent force

Strong hands grasping,

Crushing, straining

Until everything breaks free

Deep roots leave a hole

And a damaged plant


Found a new place for you

A familiar spot to settle in

The ground is soft and moist

The air warm and damp

You’ll grow well here

So push those roots down

But not too deep.


Now, three years later, my daughter is preparing for a new life, marrying the man she loves before he goes off to Basic to join the Air Force. He arrives in a week. They leave a little over a week after that. She’s already packing and planning, excited to see him, worried about forgetting anything essential.


Didn’t I once tell you

That shallow roots were best?

That loose knots untie easier, 

And the hope of what’s ahead

May even shine far brighter

Than the light we leave behind?


Well, I’m sorry, but I lied to you

Or–more truthful–to myself. 

Because there’s no untangling

These roots dug in my heart. 

Only forceful application 

Of a weeding tool or spade

Can separate this budding rose

From all this dry-packed dirt.


And though it feels to me right now 

Like no amount of time gone by 

Will sweep away the scar of absence,

This I also know: 

That neither shall the passing years

Diminish your past presence,

Nor steal the treasured memories

Nor smooth out laugh lines by my eyes

Nor turn the gray hairs back to brown.


And if in my heart there shall remain 

The hole where once you grew and flourished,

Then know that always and forever

There’s a place for you and yours

A welcome mat laid at the door

Even if your stay is brief,

And arms extended to bring in

The luggage you now pack to leave.

Awesome Children

Too Young For This

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“You are one of the old guys!”

I know it’s rare that we catch our aging in progress; it’s difficult for us to notice the process taking place. There’s often a moment of sudden, painful clarity. 

The above quote was one of my moments. 

“You should talk to one of the old guys,” I believe is what I said just before the fatal blow to my youthful pride. In the middle of a conversation with military coworkers, I thought of myself as roughly their peer, in age and experience. One young woman informed me ever so gently that this was not the case.

I joined the Air Force early, at age 17, which required a parent’s signature to approve. So I have often been the young one in any group. Once that changed, the reactions shifted to “whoa, I didn’t realize you’ve been in the service that long.” Even those eventually ceased.

I’ve already done my 20 years. Two days from now, I will finish my 22nd year of active duty. My hair is going gray (so my daughter likes to remind me), I sometimes limp, and I serve on a no-running profile, so age has taken its toll. 

Speaking of the daughter, one of the surprised reactions I get is at the fact that I have two teenaged children. Maybe most folks have better sense than to start so young, or maybe there’s still a touch of “I didn’t know you were that old” left. 

But today after flying for twelve hours, I got my own surprise reaction when my daughter’s Facebook profile revealed she is engaged to her boyfriend of over a year.

Gah!

There is a ring in the middle, among the pearls.

Now this is nothing out of the blue–they’ve been talking and plotting for quite some time. But a distant concept that “someday soon after I turn eighteen I plan to marry him” is different than a public proclamation of “this is happening.”

I will turn 40 just before she turns 18, so it’s not like I can say I’m still young. I’m just not old enough for this quite yet.

After its reign of terror through Hollywood, the music industry, and the Cincinnati Zoo, 2016 struck one last, very personal blow.

Bring on the new year, this one sucks. 

…but maybe not too fast. There are only so many more moments left, like snowflakes falling on a warm winter day, melting and vanishing before they touch the ground.

Awesome Children

One AM Christmas

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As is our custom, each member of my family opened one Christmas present on Christmas Eve, a little pre-celebration or appetizer for the main event. We did this fairly late in the evening, after a drive to purchase a festive meal of curry from Coco’s and to look at Christmas lights.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

So it was pretty late when we decided to watch Middle Son’s chosen gift, the Tim Burton movie, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. Not exactly Christmas fare, perhaps, but it’s one he wanted and half the family hadn’t seen it yet.

By the time the movie ended, it was about 1 AM. I’d blame military life and the chaos it sometimes brings, but the fact is we’re pretty much night owls when our tired bodies can put up with the strain. Wifey stays up all hours of the night, and so do I if caffeine and work commitments permit. The teens will try to watch movies at midnight if they can get away with it.

So everyone came to the same conclusion: It’s already Christmas “morning” at this point. The allure of a pile of presents under Christmas lights proved too great to resist… Except for 6-year-old Dude, who was passed out during the early part of the movie (where I admit I also stole a nice catnap).

Once he woke up, groggy and stretching, we asked him if he wanted to open presents. Silly question, of course the answer was yes.

The author, caught by his traitorous wife in a Scrooge moment

This year’s haul was pretty good for all parties.

We set out to make it special for everyone–knowing the cost associated with that–because it’s likely the last Christmas with all six of us together under one roof as one family. Despite any contrary advice or warnings received thus far, Teenage Daughter has an unwavering resolve to move out shortly after turning eighteen and marry her boyfriend, who will probably join the Air Force at that point. (The good news is he’s a pretty decent individual.)

Wifey’s love language is gift-giving, and this year she definitely hit several home runs. Her influence shows strong in our daughter, who also came up with several “OMG it’s perfect” reaction gifts.

My 34-ounce French Press gift is already in use this morning as I make eggs, cherry pancakes and corned beef hash. Teen Son got a much-desired Study Bible, a couple of anime movies, and a giant-size Uno card deck, a game he loves playing with his friends or with our little Dude. Teen Daughter got a collection of art and makeup supplies along with a laminator for photos she intends to print. The Dude and Middle Son got a nice collection of toys and movies they love. Wifey made off with a movie and some high-ticket beauty supplies she probably thought I’d never buy.

Sadly no one thought much of the gift of sleeping in. My work schedule builds in a habit of rising early even if I want more sleep, and Middle Son is a natural early bird. Things could be worse… We have a relaxing yet full Christmas schedule today. A chapel service, a large but non-traditional celebratory meal, an evening visitor, and some live streamed Christmas music on Facebook… And probably more I’m forgetting.

As a touch of holiday cheer, I’ll post some of the Christmas music on my Facebook author page if I can overcome my technological limitations.

Speaking of gifts, Diffraction, my fantasy novel, is free on Kindle through the end of Christmas Day.

I hope your holidays are bright and full of good food, fellowship, and fun.

Awesome Children

Memory Lane

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After a week under the weather, and in an effort to get past the bit of flu / cold / plague still lingering in my gut, I went for a brisk walk today. 

It’s 72 degrees and sunny. I have sunglasses, music, and a mug of coffee… plus I need some exercise anyway.

I walked past the house we lived in for eight years last time we came to Okinawa. It was alright when we moved in with a 4 year old daughter and almost 3 year old son. By the time we moved out, with four kids and two of them in double digit ages, it wasn’t quite so suitable. 

But it had a grand tree my oldest kids loved to climb. Perhaps somewhere on a hard drive, but definitely stored in my memory, is the image of my son’s grinning head popping out of the top boughs of the tree (a good twenty feet up). 

It also had a small hill down which the kids would ride their Tonka truck. They even tried “Okinawan sledding” by sliding down on flat cardboard. (I may also have tried these activities, but I can assure you they are not meant for grown-ups.)

The house is right across the street from a school with a huge playground. And as I crossed the street, three young children dashed across the open grass toward the swing sets and slides, laughing just like my littles used to. 

 

The place most of my kids will remember as “the park” when they were little.
 
I remember making that trip with the kids, to chase them around the park in games of “Monster” –which was basically ‘tag’ with a lot of roaring and other noise, and it usually ended with me laying vanquished on the ground, a victorious child trampling on my back.
Kadena is a large base, with many different housing areas. When I was first stationed here, after my wife and I married, we moved into a house just on the other side of the same park. I walked past that house today too.

The whole base is full of memories. There’s hardly a road I can drive–or in this case, walk–down without thinking, “That’s where so-and-so lived.” I walked past the house where my oldest son’s best friend lived… past the house that once belonged to the alcoholic mom with the adorable but crazy toddlers… past a home where my wife (then just a friend) house-sat for an older couple while they were on vacation… and several homes of church friends or former co-workers… places where we’ve enjoyed Sunday afternoons of food and fellowship, or Thanksgiving dinners, or Christmas season get-togethers.

19 years ago today, I went for a walk with my then-girlfriend. We were both stationed here on Kadena, living in dorms by the gym. We would walk for hours, chatting, saving geckos in the streets during the day and star-gazing at night.

 On that day, on a small concrete bridge where we liked to sit and talk, I paused to tie my shoe. 

Then I produced the ring I had worn on my pinky and popped the question. “Will you marry me?”

I waited until April 2nd so she wouldn’t think it was a gag.

That was half my lifetime ago. Half my life, more or less, on this island and stationed at this base. Half my life spent with the lovely woman who said yes… and I’m glad I can look back with fondness, not regret.

Thanks, Jami, and my awesome kids, who have all put up with so much over the years.

Awesome Children

Meat is Murder but Fishes are Delicious

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“I want to be a vegetarian.”My daughter surprised me with that declaration a couple days before her 16th birthday.

I paused a minute to let the whole “sixteen years old” thing sink in, because I don’t want to agree with it. But I have to accept it.

Back to the issue of food:

She saw a video showing some horrific examples of mistreatment and animal cruelty as part of the process by which all this mass-produced food appears on supermarket shelves. I don’t know that the video was the only factor in her decision but it clearly played a key role.

But there’s a problem. I’m a big fan of burgers and bacon and salmon steaks. If I can choose only one, meat lover’s is the pizza to order.

So her statement caused some consternation. Would meat in the house lead to fights over inhumane treatment of animals? Would she adapt to a healthy and nutritious diet, and not just junk food and non-meat? She does sometimes call a pack of Twizzlers lunch.

How far did she intend to take this?

Thankfully my wife and I also (mostly) choose our battles wisely. The girl wants to dye her hair blue and red in sections? Great. Have at it. This is not worth a fight. She wants black finger nail polish? Okay, I don’t like how that looks, BUT since she’s not showing any signs of anti-social behaviors or self-loathing and emotional issues that sometimes might accompany the darker color choices, it’s not worth fighting about.

She usually seems pretty straight-laced morally even if her socks are intentionally perpetually mismatched. A good head-on-her-shoulders, even if she makes blonde jokes at herself. Concerned for others, reliably making good decisions, and responsible enough that others are willing to trust her—so it’s not just parent bias talking.

Plus, at her age, we’re slowly becoming more like advisors and facilitators than direct authorities and overseers. Within two years she becomes an adult, able to make her own decisions and responsible to face the consequences. That’s not something we want to take 0 to 60 in one birthday.

And I need her to know that whatever she’s feeling, whatever she’s thinking, whatever she’s worried about, she has a safe place to come and discuss it. Shutting her down just because I don’t share her convictions will teach her to clam up and go elsewhere.

So instead of “What are you thinking?! Bacon!!” we discussed “Where do you want to draw the line in your diet? You need sources of protein, that’s my first concern, so where will you get those?”

And instead of bringing home a bunch of meat and ribbing her (pun intended) about how good it tastes, I bought the snacks I wanted for me and the rest of the family, then sought out some extra items that suit her current dietary plan: mixed nuts, a box of breakfast bars, some dried tropical fruit.

In this case, we got off easy. She intends to eat seafood. Sorry, fishies, you shouldn’t be so tasty. She is also fine with dairy products, even though there are certainly some examples of cruelty in that industry. So this change is fairly minor.

I’ve told her in the past that as our oldest, she’s unfortunately stuck with parents who have never done this before. We’re calling audibles and making this stuff up on the fly.

I feel like this is one I don’t hear often enough, and a good one to fall back on:

“I’m eager to hear what’s on your mind. I may not always agree with you. But I accept you and love you.”