Munchkin Update

O.k., my kids aren’t exactly munchkins anymore, but they’re still my kids. And one of them is carrying a munchkin, so there’s that. 🙂

Andrew continues working on a variety of projects in his new media business, AVM. He’s doing audiobooks, voiceovers, real estate photography, special occasion videography, editing, etc. He lives about an hour away right now, so we get to see him weekly, which is wonderful. He has even been worshiping with us each week and will be providing some church tech support in the near future. I got to see him last night when we met at the Hamburg Area High School for the Hawks’ game against Conrad Weiser, where I got to see my niece and nephew in action (cheering and coaching).

One of our favorite things to do is watch movies and discuss them. We just finished binging season 2 of The Chosen. My favorite line of the series so far is where the keeper of a certain house says one of the rooms is haunted by his dead grandmother, and Jesus replies, “Oooo, I’ll take that one.” Drew is excited to be acting in the local community theater production of Grease with a good (and super talented) friend from high school.

Bethany became my part-time personal assistant this week, as well as a caretaker for her grandmother. She knocked it out of the park on both counts, and her administrative assistance will help me stay focused on writing my dissertation. (I had a wonderful meeting yesterday with my dissertation committee and was greenlighted for the next stage.) Her background in medical administration has given her some skills for charting the dynamics of my mother-in-law’s Alzheimer’s. That can only help in an already challenging situation.

Her new dress for the baby shower came yesterday, so she tried it on and then asked me to take a few pictures. The shower is next Saturday, and about 70 people are planning to attend. Many are coming in from out of state, so it will be a busy weekend. I’m thrilled that she and her husband live less than 15 minutes from our house.

Samuel had the hiccups for the first time this week, but I already told you that. 🙂 I struggled a bit with the news that I was becoming a grandpa because, as I like to say, “I’m too young to be this old,” and “I thought it would take longer to get this old.” But a slight graying of the temples has begun, so maybe it’s time. When I was a competitive swimmer, my hair was three or four shades lighter because of the chlorine. It also gets a bit lighter in the summer these days, too. Maybe the graying effect will help me lighten up—on the age thing, too. 🙂 Well, at least I still have hair! 🙂

O.k., four smiley faces are enough for one post, and I need to switch gears anyway. So, have a great weekend, everyone, and thanks for stopping by. Blessings to all.

In addition to which…

Bethany and I just finished decorating the fireplace shelves in our living room. Thank you, Hobby Lobby!

A Million Dreams Are Keeping Me Awake

Just a little bit of this and that as I take a brief break from the books.

1. Fall is magical. As Khalil Gibran has said, “Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.” In a similar vein, Ralph Waldo Emerson has said, “The earth laughs in flowers.” (See what I did there? Vein…) 🙂  Anyway, the crisp colors and beauty of this season always refresh my soul.

2. Speaking of laughter, six-year-olds laugh an average of 300 times a day. Adults only laugh 15-100 times a day. Be six again. (O.k., feel free to accuse me of being silly—but only after you read Proverbs 17:22. Life is too short to be curmudgeonly all the time.)

3. Martin Niemöller’s robe and preaching collar are now the property of the seminary where I work. I hope to do a short post on that in the near future. Niemöller is not really a household name, but he should be. (“They came for the Jews, but I was not a Jew….”) See, I can be un-silly, too.

4. “I can’t imagine a man really enjoying a book and reading it only once.” So said C. S. Lewis. Amen to that! Which books do you find yourself re-reading? Oh, you don’t read? As the adage goes (often misattributed to Mark Twain), “A person who won’t read has no advantage over one who can’t.”

5. The Phillies are just two games back. Why do they always get close enough to give us hope but linger far enough behind to break our hearts? Fortunately, it doesn’t sting as much as it used to. While I thoroughly enjoy the game of baseball, I’m no longer a fan of professional sports.

6. On a happier note, SamJam (Samuel James) is just two months away from coming into view. I suppose I’ll be more of a puddle than usual this Christmas, getting to hold a newborn and all. This little guy is just the third blood relative I will have gotten to meet on the planet. What an honor!

7. Speaking of Christmas, I probably won’t be able to write too many original posts this year on the Incarnation—one of the richest, deepest, most profound subjects we could ever ponder. So, I’m thinking of doing some re-posts of the more popular ones I’ve done over the past few years. Since that almost feels like cheating, I’m hoping to write at least one original post this year. 

8. My Advent series this year will focus on the history and theology of the carol “O Holy Night.” I did my own translation of it several years ago and discovered that the English version is way off the original French. Nevertheless, the lyrics are still poignant, and the tune is hauntingly beautiful. My favorite line is, “Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.” This concept is the next unit for two of the seven classes I’m teaching this semester. The Scripture pulsates with the sentiment, though we often try to obscure it. As Karen Salmansohn put it, “When you realize how much you’re worth, you’ll stop giving people discounts.”

9. Finally, here are two songs for your weekend pleasure. The first is Disturb’s cover of “The Sound of Silence,” a song about incommunicability. It’s really a lament about individuals who are physically close to each other but still separated by their inability to communicate. They speak without expressing any substantive content, and they hear without really listening. The realm of silence, into which the noisy nothings of this world often crash, is painful to the author.

The second song is much brighter. It’s the One Voice Children’s Choir performing “A Million Dreams” from The Greatest Showman. I love this group of young people, and I find the musical itself quite entertaining. In fact, my son and I have talked about doing a Friday night sing-along of the whole show. (All recording devices will be confiscated before we push play on the DVD!)

Thanks for reading. And have a lovely weekend!

P.S., Hurricane “Sam” is headed to the East Coast. Yeah, we knew that. (See #6 above.) 🙂

No Greater Joy: Father’s Day, June 20, 2021

What a glorious day it’s been. Mother’s Day usually gets more fanfare than Father’s Day, and rightly so. After all, as Jim Gaffigan says, “When you consider the male contribution to human life, it’s not very impressive.” God knew what he was doing when he gave women the travails of labor. We men never could have handled it. That’s why Mother’s Day gets top billing. Still, my kids made me feel like a million bucks this weekend. They even laughed at my dad jokes, which were especially bad this year.

First, my son came to our house Friday night for our usual movie and pizza night. He brought along gifts and treats that were deeply meaningful to me, and we started watching The Chosen together. Tissues may have been involved—not only because the production is fresh and alive with new angles and insights than most of the “screen Jesus” fare we’ve seen (hey, love the cinema, hate the sin), but also because Andrew is making a major life change this month. It’s a new journey for him, and it’s rooted in his desire to know Christ better and love him more. 

He also called me today to wish me a happy Father’s Day, and we talked about his new adventure. He said, “I’ve never had this much confidence in the face of this much uncertainty.” I’m moved by his faith and dedication, and I couldn’t be prouder of him than I am right now. He’s the first blood relative I ever met, and I often remind him that he’s “my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.”

Then, this morning, we had a beautiful worship service focusing on our “good, good Father.” It was a thrill to meet some new people today and hear their stories. After the service we gathered at my favorite Italian restaurant in the area with my daughter and her husband. They, too, shared wonderful cards and gifts that got me choked up. I even got a card from my future grandchild, along with a special gift from him or her. (The in utero child is the size of an avocado right now, which explains one of the gift tags below.)

Micah, who is celebrating his first Father’s Day this year (because being pro-life means he’s a father now), turned my Puddles the Popsicle post into a children’s book so that I could read it to the munchkin when he or she finally arrives. (The due date is December 2.) Opening that gift was a heart-stopping moment. And it made it easier to forgive them for getting me the card that came with it—the one with “Puffy” on the front.

Years ago I had a beautiful Pomeranian. Beautiful on the outside, that is. Inside, the little terror was demon possessed, and, alas, I don’t have the gift of exorcism. Our failed experiment in having a dog actually began with Bethany batting her eyelashes at me when she was little and saying in the cutest way possible, “Daddy, can we have a puppy? I’ll take care of it.” Uh huh. Right. And now she owns a cat. Smart lady. Bethany and Micah are serving the Lord, too, using the gifts and graces God has given them for his glory. 

I am beyond blessed to be a father to these three wonderful kids. And I can say with the Apostle John, “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth” (3 John 4).

Our son-in-law, Micah. Part of what it means to be pro-life is that we celebrate fatherhood when the mother is expecting.
We all start out as rookies, but Micah is going to be a good father.
The grandchild on the way is now the size of an avocado. I got a gift from him (or her), too. I love the love on the gift tag! 🙂
One of my gifts from Sonya. It’s getting real.
That’s exactly what Puffy the Pomeranian looked like, minus the crown. It almost gave me heart failure when I saw it.
A card from my little avocado.
My grandchild’s handwriting looks a lot like my daughter’s. 🙂
Here’s the gift that took my breath away. Micah turned a story I wrote into a children’s book so I can read it to my grandchild.
Micah worked really hard on the artwork.

“May his favor be upon you / And a thousand generations / And your family and your children / And their children, and their children….”

Blooming Boldly

Ralph Walderson Emerson once said, “The earth laughs in flowers.” If that’s true, then my front yard is howling with delight right now. I’m so thrilled with how our red and yellow tulips have flourished this year. I had to take some snaps earlier today since they don’t last very long. Fortunately, new and different blooms will come after the tulips have had their day.

Off to celebrate my son’s birthday. And pretend I can sing. (There’s something magical about a karaoke microphone, right?)

Have a great weekend!

‘You Don’t Have to Be a Star, Baby, to Be in My Show’

It was Marilyn McCoo and Billy Davis Jr. who sang that line, “You don’t have to be a star, baby, to be in my show.” It’s a good thing, too, or I’d be up the creek without a microphone. Indeed, I discovered last night that the best way to kill a classic is for me to sing it. But, oh, the “song-icide” can be so much fun. 

We’ll be hosting a birthday party for our son this weekend, and the main activity is a karaoke event with his friends. Last night he came over, and we set up the equipment in our family room to test it and make sure it all works. One thing led to another, so for nearly three hours we added song after song to the queue, and we sang ourselves raspy over the course of the night. My selections included:

  • “Bohemian Rhapsody” (Queen)
  • “My Heart Will Go On” (Celine Dion)
  • “Theme from the Brady Bunch” (Sherwood Schwartz)
  • “Footloose” (Kenny Loggins)
  • “New York, New York” (Frank Sinatra)
  • “Y.M.C.A.” (Village People)
  • “Climb Every Mountain” (The Sound of Music)
  • “Kiss the Girl” and “Part of Your World” (The Little Mermaid)
  • “Somewhere in the Night” (Barry Manilow)
  • “I Will Always Love You” (Whitney Houston)
  • “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant” (Billy Joel)

And that’s just the tip of the iceburg of all the songs we attempted. Worse than my singing was the misguided attempt (by me) to dance during “Footloose.” All digital evidence of the spectacle has been destroyed. But the funniest moment was injecting Scuttle’s throaty little descant into “Kiss the Girl.” I may have ruptured something laughing at myself.

I didn’t realize how much fun karaoke could be, or how much I needed to blow off a little steam after the crazy schedule I’ve been keeping lately (not to mention the awfulness of the pandemic year). As King Solomon once said, “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones” (Prov 17:22). 

All my life I’ve wanted to be a singer in the worst possible way. I can finally say that I’ve reached my goal.

Image Credits: CuteWallpaper.org

A Few Updates at the End of a Glorious Week

1. Holy Week 2021 was a rich and meaningful time for our church family. In the midst of building a new church website, processing all the paperwork for a new corporation, assisting in a friend’s baptism and commissioning service, learning a new educational learning platform, and getting a helpful education on important legal matters, we held the full range of traditional Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday services and activities. I was blessed, challenged, and encouraged by getting to lead and participate in these incredible worship experiences. They always give me so much to “treasure” and “ponder” in my heart, as Mary did while watching her Son in action.

2. Somewhere in the middle of all that activity, I turned another year older, and my family and friends spoiled me. It was a week of visits, gifts, and feastings on top of an otherwise excellent year of health. I’ve been walking, swimming, eating right, and losing lots of pounds. If I can get back on track first thing tomorrow, and resume my disciplines without any more splurges, I may be able to see my abs by July. I know—that’s such a guy goal, right? But I haven’t been able to do that in decades, so I’m going for it. I usually collapse right about now in the journey, so we’ll see how it goes. Thanks in advance for cheering me on!

3. My daughter and I went to Hobby Lobby on Tuesday to get a bunch of knickknacks for the lighted bookshelves in our newly renovated living room. That project went a lot better and took a lot longer than we had originally thought, but nothing compares to the marathon bathroom renovation project that’s now in full swing. Our goal was to have it done by Christmas when the extended family gathered last December for the holidays, but only now is it finally getting close to being finished. The upside is that I wound up getting some cool recessed lighting in my home office as a side benefit. If all goes well, the bathroom will be done in three weeks, and then we can turn our attention to the basement library/podcast studio.

4. My 2013 Ford Edge SEL was on the verge of turning 100k miles, so I replaced it last Friday before it lost its trade-in value. It had a mineral gray exterior and a black interior with heated leather seats. It was a good car, and I enjoyed driving it for three and a half years. Last week I got a 2018 Ford Edge Titanium at a great price and less than 20k miles. (Hey, I like Edges!) It has a shiny white exterior, a cool moonroof, and a two-tone interior with heated leather seats. It’s loaded with features and handles well. I’m looking forward to connecting my devices, learning the display, and discovering all the features I’ve read about but haven’t gotten to try yet.

5. For years I’ve described myself as “an incurable Philadelphia Phillies fan,” but I may have just found the cure. I’m thoroughly disgusted by what the MLB pulled in re-locating the All-Star Game because of Georgia’s new voting law. What lunacy. I’m delighted that the Phils swept the Braves this weekend, but my interest in professional sports has taken a deep nosedive over the past decade. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m tired of politics in sports and will no longer support the industry. There are plenty of other things I can do with my time. For example, my son just got me a training session at the local gun range for my birthday, so we have that to look forward to—in between binging on episodes of the Sherlock series (Cumberbatch/Freeman). Then it’s on to the local Rod & Gun Club to improve my skills.

6. So as not to end on a down note, I’m finally re-energized to go “all-in” on the research and writing of my second dissertation. Those things are just painful to write, but I love my subject matter, and my upcoming schedule should allow for some serious progress. If I’m not on here a lot in the coming months, that’s the reason. But I’ll still read as many of your comments and posts as I possibly can. 

Be blessed, one and all, in the risen Christ. You are at the heart of God’s heart.

Throwback Thursday: My Little Cherubs

So, here we have a Minnie Mouse and a mini me. I couldn’t tell you what the ages of my kids are in these two shots, but I know my own lifespan has been shortened by including them here. I won’t disclose Andrew’s likely weapon of choice, but I’m fairly certain Bethany will sic her cat on me. Still, what an overload of cuteness. Best of all, they both love Jesus and seek to honor him with their lives. I am blessed. Can’t help thinking, though, where have the years gone? In that spirit, I’ll throw in Enya’s “Time Flies” today, too.

Not Quite Home on the Range Yet

Last night I sinned. Multiple times. My son and son-in-law were with me at the time. They sinned, too, and we all had a great time doing it. Let me explain. We were celebrating my son-in-law’s birthday, so we went to a shooting range before dinner, cake, and gift giving. It’s something Micah enjoys, though he doesn’t have a lot of opportunity to do it, so we surprised him with a round at Enck’s Gun Barn. My son Drew also has more experience than I do in this area, making me the rookie of the bunch. 

I’ve shot pistols before, but only a few times in the distant past and only at Coke cans set up in the woods near my brother-in-law’s house in North Carolina. Last night we used a rifle—a Ruger AR-556, which is considerably louder than a pistol, though the kickback isn’t bad at all. Given my lack of experience, I was hoping to just get my shots on the paper target!

I didn’t get a bullseye this time, but all my shots were inside the 8 and 9 rings, and one even nicked the center circle. Not bad for a beginner. But all three of us kept missing the mark, which is one of the biblical metaphors for sin. There are many other images, too, but this one is prominent.

Judges 20:15-16 says, “At once the Benjamites mobilized twenty-six thousand swordsmen from their towns, in addition to seven hundred chosen men from those living in Gibeah. Among all these soldiers there were seven hundred chosen men who were left-handed, each of whom could sling a stone at a hair and not miss [ḥǎṭṭāʾṯ].”

The word ḥǎṭṭāʾṯ is a general word for sin, usually having the sense of missing the mark, going astray, offending, or ignoring something required by God’s law (e.g., Gen 40:1; Jdgs 20:16; Neh 13:26; etc.). It can also mean “sin offering” (e.g., Exod 29:4).

King David prays in Psalm 51:2, “Cleanse me [ṭāhēr] from my sin [ḥǎṭṭāʾṯ].” The word ṭāhēr means to “be clean,” “cleanse,” “purify,” or “pronounce clean,” as from a defiling condition. It can have a ritual context (e.g., Lev 11:32), or it can refer to the actual cleansing of impurities (e.g., Naaman’s leprosy in 2 Kgs 5:10). 

It can also refer to the removal of impurities from metal (e.g., refined gold and silver in Mal 3:3). Therefore, the word does not necessarily have a sacramental connotation (contra Goldingay, etc.) or even a ceremonial connotation (contra Wilson, the ESV Study Bible, etc.). Indeed, David’s hope of forgiveness rests on nothing ceremonial (cf. vv. 16-17). The sense of his prayer in v. 2 is, “Purify me from my defiling sin.”

Because of his mercy, grace, and compassion (Ps 51:1), God can certainly do that. And because David came to him humbly, he did. “The Lord has taken away your sin,” said Nathan the prophet. You are not going to die” (2 Sam 12:13-14). David later wrote, “Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven” (Ps 32:1).

Interestingly enough, all three of us last night were landing our initial shots low and to the right of the bullseye. That would seem to suggest a sighting issue on the gun. Our Range Safety Officer (RSO) helped us make the necessary adjustments to shoot more accurately. He also helped me with my stance and positioning vis-à-vis the target. He was patient, kind, and supportive, not condescending at all toward this novice.

Probably my biggest challenge as a shooter is the fact that I’m left-eye dominant trying to shoot from a right hander’s position. My impulse, then, is to use my left eye to align the sights, but that doesn’t work when you’re pressing your right cheek to the gun stock. Here again, the RSO was perceptive and gave me some suggestions to help me “not sin.”

Our night at the range caused me to think about the fact that we’re in this spiritual journey together. “All have sinned and come short of the glory of God” (Rom 3:23), which is why judging and condescension are out of place in the Christian life. Smug self-righteousness is just a way to justify our anger at other people because they sin differently than we do.

Our natural misalignments and daily temptations to “miss the mark” don’t go away when others scold us, humiliate us, or impose their asceticisms on us (Col 2:21-23). They tend to dissipate when those with a little more experience help us learn how to aim higher. 

We are pilgrims on a journey
We are brothers on the road
We are here to help each other

Walk the mile and bear the load

The RSO actually showed me last night how to be a better pastor. Lord knows, I need ongoing training.

Image Credits: pexels.com; nationalinterest.org; aurrpc.com.

Grantchester: My Newest Detective Binge

Readers of TNL will likely know of my affection for detective, crime solving, courtroom, and spy shows, along with a few period dramas from time to time. My latest binge is Grantchester on PBS’s Masterpiece. The British detective series is set in 1950s Cambridge, England, and features the Anglican vicar Sidney Chambers (James Norton) developing a side sleuthing gig with Detective Inspector Geordie Keating (Robson Green). 

Father Chambers apparently gets replaced in a future season with a new vicar, William Davenport (Tom Brittney), but I’m just getting started. The best way to describe the series is “one part Endeavour smooshed together with one part Father Brown.” So far so good. My recent previous binges in this genre have included:

  • Alias (Jennifer Garner)
  • Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch)
  • The Mentalist (Simon Baker)
  • Covert Affairs (Piper Perabo)
  • Broadchurch (David Tennant)
  • Blue Bloods (Tom Selleck)
  • Poirot (David Suchet)
  • Father Brown (Mark Williams)
  • Endeavour (Shaun Evans)
  • Inspector Morse (John Thaw)
  • Inspector Lewis (Kevin Whately)
  • Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (Essie Davis)
  • Columbo (Peter Falk)

Past and ongoing binges in the period-piece genre include:

  • Victoria (Jenna Coleman, Tom Hughes)
  • The Crown (Claire Foy, Olivia Colman)
  • Reign (Adelaide Kane, Toby Regbo, Megan Follows)
  • Downton Abbey (Hugh Bonneville, Maggie Smith)
  • Pride & Prejudice (Jennifer Ehle, Colin Firth)
  • Sense & Sensibility (Hattie Morahan, Dominic Cooper)

And then there’s Stranger Things (Winona Ryder, Millie Bobby Brown), which is in a class by itself, and the ubiquitous NCIS and Law & Order. Oh, and the Friday night Marvel binge with my son. (My waning love of professional sports has made more space for the arts and a better use of my brain.)

What are your favorite binges?

UPDATE (01.15.2021): As it turns out, Grantchester is rather slow moving, only marginally interesting, and unfortunately overt in its socio-political agenda. I’m not sure I’ll continue with it. Worst of all (for this genre, anyway), the viewer can never really solve the crime beforehand because important clues are concealed until the end. Where’s the fun in that?

Image Credits: mypostcard.com; medium.com.

A Couple of Gift Pics

I mentioned yesterday that I got way too many gifts for Christmas—all of them special and much appreciated—with two from my kids that truly captured my heart. Here are snaps of those two gifts.

The wooden Phillies mug on the right is made in the shape of—and out of the same material as—an MLB bat. It’s so tall I needed a chopstick to stir the creamer! Drew has a way of getting us the most unique gifts—the kinds of things we would never buy for ourselves but bring a smile to our hearts when he gives them.

My daughter and son-in-law choked me up with a canvas made on their cricut that says, “Fall on your knees, Oh hear the angel voices, Oh night divine, Oh night when Christ was born,” a line from my mom’s favorite Christmas carol, “O Holy Night,” the same one we were singing to her when she passed away. Next year, Lord willing, I’ll write more about that carol and its history. It was an awful lot of work for Bethany and Micah to put this together.

It was a memorable day. (We even had a bit of snow for a few hours!) The greatest gift of course, was the child in the manger. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son.”

UPDATE: I forgot to mention that Andrew also made each of our likenesses into a 3D-printed comic figure. (I am Batman, haha!) We’re still waiting for the USPS to deliver them, but we have printouts of what they will look like. How in the world did I get such creative kids?

Image Credit: wallpaperfx.com.

The Broken Mug I Refuse to Get Rid Of

Like many other people, I have a morning routine that includes coffee. Two cups at least. And most of the time, I drink Eight O’clock Dark Italian Roast with one cream and one Splenda. (Take my man card if you must, but that’s how I like it.) I drink other kinds from time to time, but the darker roasts and Columbian roasts are my favorites.

Often when I have my first cup, I think about and pray for the person who gave me the mug I’m using that morning. I have quite a collection, and as I drag myself to the place where I do my devotions, I pray God’s blessings over that person.

One of my all-time favorites is a light blue ceramic mug featuring a bleary-eyed Mickey Mouse on the front, and a printed message on the back, which says, “Some mornings are ROUGH!” 

Mickey is right. Some mornings are rough, but coffee makes them tolerable. In any event, I treasure this mug because my son got it for me during his first-ever Christmas away from home. He was in college, and he did an internship at Disney World one year during the holiday break. That was emotionally challenging for us—not to have our son home for Christmas. 

We got to Skype with him that year, and for that we were grateful, but it wasn’t the same as having him here with us. (One cannot hug pixels on an iPad.) When he returned from Florida, the Mickey mug was one of the gifts he gave me for Christmas. So, it’s special to me because it’s connected to a precious memory—an expression of a son’s love for his father. 

Unfortunately, the handle broke off a few years ago. No one knows exactly how or why it happened, and it was quite upsetting when it did. “Not the Mickey mug!” I still have it today, and it looks like this:

My special mug without its handle. It’s now defective—less than what it had been when I first received it. But I still treasure it. It’s still special to me and always will be. The mug is broken but loved.

What an apt metaphor for people made in the image of God. After all, how much more valuable is a person than a mug! We’re spiritually broken but still loved by God. 

I won’t ever get rid of my Mickey mug, even though it’s defective. Likewise, God won’t get rid of us—even if we’re broken in some way. We’re the reason Christmas happened in the first place.

So, drink up. And thank God for his caffeinated grace.

Thank you, Lord, for your steadfast, committed love toward us, even though we’re flawed and fallen human beings. You don’t get rid of us even when we’re broken. Help me to be patient and gracious toward others who are likewise broken. Amen.

Holiday Thoughts on the Pain and Privilege of Fatherhood

“Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God!” (1 John 3:1, KJV)


After the birth of my son, Andrew, I understood a little better why God wanted to be a Father. The same thought washed over me after the birth of my daughter two years later. (Her first act on the planet was to pee on the doctor. After I got his bill, I was glad she did.) I embarrassed both my kids last week with some incriminating kiddie pics. They took it well.

Tonight is movie night with Andrew. Last night was daddy-daughter date night with Bethany. We had a blast together, and we were texting today about what a wonderful time we had. I love lavishing them both with affection, encouragement, and good times. They even let me theologize once in a while. They’re the ones God gave me to care for, and it’s a joy for me to do so, not a burden.

The opera fudge bomb Bethany and I got last night at Trattoria Fratelli. My head is still buzzing today.

Yes, there were a few rough spots during the teen years, but I can honestly say today, “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth” (3 John 1:4). My kids’ interests, personalities, and love languages couldn’t be more different, but the delight they bring me is the same.

Additionally, my son-in-law Micah is no less a son to me than Andrew. He’s an incredible young man, too, and an answer to prayer. He’s been grafted into our hearts as well as into our family. When the kids have a joy, I have a joy. When the kids have a hurt, I have a hurt.

That’s why I’ve been grieving from a distance the death of Tim Challies’ son, Nick. Tim is an uber-blogger whom I read regularly, and I’ve shed some tears for the tragedy that has recently befallen his family. His young son passed away unexpectedly while attending my alma matter, the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky.

I’ve never met Tim, but he serves the church well with his daily aggregations and reflections. I’m grateful to the Lord for him and his ministry. He has recently born witness to the power of God’s sustaining grace during this time, but oh what hard road for him to walk as a father. His persevering faith testifies to the reality of God. Many others have walked a similar path, but every step is agonizing. God the Father walked this path, too.

In a previous post, I wrote about “Three Songs to Sing When Christmas Comes in a Minor Key.” Another song to add could be Charles Wesley’s “Hark! the Herald Angels Sing,” probably the “meatiest” carol we have, theologically speaking, and it includes these hopeful lines:

Born to raise the sons of earth.
Born to give them second birth.

Next December, Lord willing, I’ll write about how my mother passed away in the hospital while we were singing her favorite Christmas carol, “O Holy Night.” All her equipment flatlined just as we were singing, “O hear the angel voices.” And then she did—she heard the angel voices in her new heavenly home. 

But we’ve had enough heaviness this year, so I’ll save that story for some other time. For now, let’s just settle into the reality of the Father’s love for us—fully revealed in Jesus Christ, the one who was:

Born that man no more may die.

The Father loves us a whole lot more than I love my own kids. And that’s a lot.

The family room tree is finally complete.

Image Credit: shutterstock.com.

Friday Fun: Jim Gaffigan and His Whales

I fell off my bed one night laughing at Jim Gaffigan’s “Whales” routine. That riff gives way in the clip below to a few pokes at Domino’s Pizza. “It’s carbolicious!” 

Anyway, I still fall off the furniture whenever my son comes around. He can imitate Gaffigan’s whale sounds to a tee. I’m not exactly sure why I find it so funny. Your psychoanalysis is welcome, but please try to be nice. 🙂

Weekly Fun with My Beloved Son

Today’s morning brew is Cosata Rican. It’s a full bodied yet mellow blend given to us by a friend. I’m deviating from the norm today because I was up late last night watching The Avengers with my son, and I can use the extra jolt. Nearly every Friday we get together for dinner and a fun flick. 

Right now we’re making our way through the Marvel comic series in order of release date. So far we’ve watched Iron Man (2008), The Incredible Hulk (2008), Iron Man 2 (2010), Thor (2011), Captain America: The First Avenger (2011), and The Avengers (2012). 

There are many more films in the series, so we’ll be living our “Fantasy Fridays” for months to come. That’s not a problem since the Saturday morning coffee is good. Besides, it’s always a joy to spend time with him. He’s still “my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.”

Image Credit: moviedwall.com.