Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category
So nobody commented on my last post. That’s a clear sign that I’ve been so lax in writing lately that you’ve all taken me off your RSS feeds. Or maybe it popped up and you were like, “No way, that guy’s a loser. Must be some error.”
Maybe I should just write more. I’ll prove that RSS feed right in the end!
I just read a wonderful blog post by my friend Jason Latshaw, and it inspired me for mine tonight! He was talking about how he handled a rude person with a “knowing look” and it got me to thinking about how I handle rude people (turns out not quite so gracefully as Jason).
For instance, I get really fired up when people do dangerous stuff around my kids. The other day we were in the parking lot of a kids toy store—a small one in Newark with a very small parking lot. The kids and I started from the store across the parking lot towards our car, when I heard a revving engine coming up the parking lot in our general direction. He was flying. I yelled for the kids to hop back on the curb, and they did—terrified.
Then the guy whipped into a parking spot. College kids. And they started to walk to main street. Well, I just couldn’t stand by and do nothing right? So I let them have it. I started “talking loudly” to them, letting them know this was a kids store for crying out loud! That they terrified my kids! What were they thinking! You really need to slow down!
They just kept walking. :)
Another time I was in blockbuster video (with my kids . . . yikes, a pattern is occurring) and there was a huge line. There were at least 10 people in line. And then this guy walks right up to one of the counters. (Remember how they used to keep you waiting in line next to the snacks? And then you’d be asked to come forward to the counter like a bank teller?) Well he just circumvented the entire line process, and walked right up!
Well, someone had to help him out right? “Excuse me! I’m not sure if you noticed, but we are all waiting in line here.” You know, maybe he really hadn’t noticed! Or maybe he was the selfish jerk I thought he was. He just looked right back at us, shrugged, and kept going. Jerk.
I just can’t stand it when people are mean, when they think about only themselves and not others. Like (here’s another one!) the people who try to keep going when two lanes are merging—and they just try to pass all of us who are merging obediently, and get ahead as far as possible. How selfish!! Why is your time more important than mine?!
So you know what I do (Mandy loves this..)? I pull my car so its halfway in between the two lanes in an attempt to block them from going by! I hate it!! So unfair!
Well, that’s enough for tonight. Trust me. There’s more…
Spoiler Alert – well not really. I mean, I’m going to reference Lost’s last episode, but I realized that many who read this blog aren’t up to date. So I’m not going to give any spoilers…
Wow. Lost blew me away. For me, it was perfection. I just loved it. It left me, quite literally, weeping. In a good way.
I’m pretty sure I’ve written about what I’m going to write about tonight on an earlier post . . . and I’m pretty sure I’ll do it again. It just is a very real and poignant part of who I am. This last episode really hit me in the gut—and duh—I know that was the point.
We all have our lenses through which we view this kind of stuff, and the ones I look through are probably obvious: I’m looking as a father. A father who has some children here with me, and a father who has lost several whom he breathlessly awaits a reunion with. I also watch as a husband, and one who still genuinely cherishes every moment with his wife. And I watch as a Christian, and one who is still deeply moved by the themes of heroic sacrifice, redemption, forgiveness, and love.
On all counts Lost got me.
It got me thinking tonight about Letting Go and Getting Back. I think a lot about heaven, and when I really let myself, I think about that powerful day when I will see Malachi and Hope again. I can picture them running to me. For some reason in my mind Malachi has blond hair that curls at the ends like Samuel’s did when he was little, and Hope has darker, straighter hair. When I let myself go there (which is not often) I can be overcome by the longing to be with them. It actually hurts me physically. And sometimes, sometimes, I feel like I can almost see them with my eyes closed…and touch them…
C.S. Lewis wrote often about longing. In one book Till We Have Faces he had characters who lived in the shadow of this wonderful mountain and longed to find their way there. I think it is inherent in humans to long for some “better” place. I also think that some people look down on that kind of thinking as escapism or fatalism. For me, it’s not that I long to leave what is now, it is that I long for both. I really do long for now. Often after I weep with longing for my children in heaven, it will shift into weeping with longing for my kids who are here now.
As I was pulling myself together tonight I was talking to Mandy about how the rest of our lives are going to be about letting go. We will have to, at some point, let our parents go (which is an unbelievably painful thought), and raising our children is one moment of letting go after another, until they are grown and older and then we don’t get to see them very much. Not sure if anyone else deals with this, but all of that is hard for me.
Maybe it’s because I’m not great with change. Maybe it’s because I fear failure, and I deeply hope my kids grow up really well. Or maybe I just really, truly, deeply love the people in my life. I am so fortunate. I am so in love with Mandy and my kids, with my parents and my family and friends. I have such a deep and broad network of love and relationships. And what I loved about Lost is that that was the point – relationships. But that blessing is also a struggle. With much love comes much potential for pain. And I have seen this in bold expression the past few years of my life. So maybe I sound a little pessimistic or something, but I really do long to make the most of every day with the people who are special to me, because I know that no days are guaranteed to us.
So my heart is heavy tonight. And I am longing. Longing to more fully realize and enjoy what I have now, and longing for the day when I can hold those sweet little hands that await me. And I am grateful to God that I will have the chance to do both.
My kids make me laugh. They really do. It is so fun to watch them try out a sense of humor too. I mean, how do we learn what’s funny? Have you ever thought about that? The other day Elliot made fun of me, and it was actually funny! We were at Costco and Mandy had gone in ahead of us. When I pulled up to the entrance with our cart and Samuel, Elliot, and Mathea, I said, “My wife came in ahead of us, with a baby.” And when I said the “baby” part I made this motion with my hands like you would normally make when showing someone how big a fish you caught, you know? Like, that fish was THIS big!
Well we went inside and Elliot is smiling and laughing to himself, and he looks at me, puts his hands apart and says, “Daddy . . . a baby????” LOL I was laughing so hard! Now we have a little inside joke. It’s great.
And then we went shopping the other day for Mother’s Day and the kids wanted to get her sunglasses, so of course, we all tried some on. That’s where this pic comes from. I’ve got it on my phone now, because every time I see it I laugh. Literally. I just think it is SO funny.
And today, oh man this was classic, Mathea started to talk about her favorite show—”Tom and Jerry.” And she was telling me a story from the show and she said this, “So then the cat, Tomin, started to….”And I just started cracking up. I mean, it was so cute. All this time I have never noticed this, but she actually thinks the name of the show is not Tom AND Jerry, but simply Tomin—Jerry. Like that’s there two names!! Tomin the Cat and Jerry the Mouse!!
And another slight misspeak she does is also very funny to me. My grandparents live with my parents now, and so my kids have a Grandma Barb and a Grandpa Joe. But Mathea struggles to keep the two separated. So she regularly calls my grandmother, Grandpa Barbe! Haha. I love that.
Then today, we were eating beans at the dinner table (yes, you can guess where this is going) and I decided it was high time to teach my kids the ol’ classic. “Beans, beans they’re good for your heart….” And through much laughter I told them another very important piece of sage-like wisdom—that some people say you can light your farts on fire! (What has happened to my blog?? Is fart going to get tagged??)
Samuel can barely breathe he is laughing so hard. Then he puts this voice on, and acting like their Grandpa Charky (who is notorious for the aforementioned behavior) says, “Yeah, and if you did that, Grandpa Charky would come into the room and ask, ‘Hey, what’s cookin?’” Hahaha. For some reason I just thought that was so clever and funny. I loved it.
So yeah, my kids are funny. I love being around them and watching them learn the art of humor. And tonight, as we all sat around the table laughing so hard we could barely eat, I just thought to myself— “Man, this is so good and so special. I am blessed.”
Mandy is 18 weeks pregnant approximately, and Friday we had our first Level 2 ultrasound. Because we are “high risk” we have already had two Level 1 ultrasounds. We’ll have two more of the 2′s and then we’ll move on to these things called Biophysicals – which are basically in depth ultrasounds that measure more than just size, but also movement and other things and then compare that to standards to determine health.
So far everything looks perfect!
As I walked out of the exam room with Mandy I told her that now I was really nervous because I was starting to feel hopeful. I mean, from the start I’ve been hopeful, and feeling like this was the right thing to do. I’ve felt peace (as much as can be expected) and felt generally positive about it all. At the same time, however, I think I’ve been viewing it all from a very realistic perspective. Bad things happen. Especially, it seems, to us when trying to have babies. So while I’ve been hopeful, I’ve also kept it at a distance somewhat I think.
I think the distance is my “rational” self. I have faith, and peace, and spiritually good feelings about it all. But rationally I know that I can’t control anything. And here’s the catch – I think I’ve been trying to do just that. Rather than embracing the moment, I think I’ve been cautiously beholding the present. Does that even make sense?
You see, I might think (on some level) that to remain rational will “protect” me somehow. But in reality – that is simply not true. This is the stark truth I am faced with daily – I control nothing. This is perhaps one of the greatest struggles for me.
I can’t control whether this baby lives, anymore than I can control whether my other living children live. I can’t control my life, Mandy’s life…and that scares me. Why does it scare me?
I think on some level it is because I have stopped trusting God. Or maybe my definition of trusting God has changed. I used to “trust” God to protect us. Yet I defined “protect” as keep from all harm. Is that really a righteous expectation to have of God? Does he promise that? Does he not in fact say – “In this world there will be trouble?”
So what does trust mean then? If we can’t trust him to keep us from all harm, then we must trust him to keep us THROUGH all harm. Good or bad, pain or pleasure, joy or sorrow – God is holding us. And will continue to do so.
Sure, he works on our behalf, and I believe that he answers prayers – and even currently IS answering prayers about this baby. But ultimately, if my faith and trust are built on him doing what I want (how we usually define answered prayer) than my faith is shaky.
This is hard stuff. All this to say, as I received empirical evidence that my baby is doing great, my rational side began to hope along with my faith side. No matter how messed up that sounds to you, its just where I am right now.
And, not to sound like a downer, this scares me too :) It hurts me to hope again. Even as I write that, it hurts. I miss my other two so deeply. To even allow my heart to walk down this path again is painful. Even in the midst of joy.
I am so thankful for Malachi and Hope. They have taught me so much. I continue to learn from the grace they bestowed upon my life. And I anxiously (or peacefully depending on the day) await the future of this baby…whatever it may be.