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Bury Me at Sea

At the edge of the dunes
I sense the distant thundering of the tides upon the shore
And as I plod across the scorching sand
I catch my first glimpse of your vastness
My pulse quickens with anticipation

When I reach the cool rim of the shoreline
Your mist reaches up and caresses my face
And as the grains of earth seem to evaporate beneath my feet
I feel myself crossing a threshold
And my soul cries out

Bury me at sea
Pull me into your pounding heart
And swallow me in your majesty

Bury me at sea
Crown me with your foamy crests
And dissolve me in your brine

Bury me at sea
Clutch me in your powerful arms
And carry me to your depths

Bury me at sea
Where the winds of this world cannot be felt
And in the realm of the unseen

Bury me at sea
So the ones I leave behind can visit
And remember that I’m with You

When I first got married, at the ripe old age of 19 yrs. old, I was still too much of a child to seriously consider having children of my own. Throughout my early twenties, as I listened to my peers speak of their parenting struggles, I naively wondered why handling a few small children should be such a big deal. Undoubtedly, my heavenly Father must have chuckled at the understanding of what my future held.

 

In my early thirties, my first marriage crumbled and I was grateful that at least there were no little ones to get snagged in the wreckage. A couple of years later, as a new life emerged for me, I was blessed to become a step-father and little by little the eyes of my understanding began to open. Less than a year after that came a baby boy; and less than a year after that came twins (a boy and a girl). Going 0 to 4 children in less than 24 months is something like going 0 to 60 mph in 2.4 seconds. Needless to say, the years that have followed have been a crash course in the joys and challenges of parenting.

 

Early on, it’s tempting to believe that a colicky baby, who doesn’t sleep through the night, represents a huge ordeal. But as the years pass the climb gets significantly steeper. As a child’s capacity to act independently develops and their world expands, both the possibilities and complexities compound exponentially. Though each stage of life presents its own unique set of hurdles, there is perhaps no greater ache for a parent than to watch their grown child fall headlong into a trap that they’ve been warned about since childhood, or that the parent unwittingly set them up for.

 

The pop cultural landscape is littered with countless resources for parents who are diligently seeking guidance, and while many of them do possess some degree of merit, none could rightfully be considered definitive. Each child is their own puzzle and there is no “one size fits all” approach for raising them.

 

Our three youngest children weren’t even a year apart, with two of them being twins. Additionally, they were home schooled until the 3rd/4th grade, which means that their “shared life experience” was almost identical through their “formative” years. Based on popular thinking, this consistent and stable environment should have created striking similarities in the way these kids function on a day to day basis, but nothing could be further from the truth.

 

I have found that each one thinks differently, learns differently, is inspired differently, expresses themselves differently, fears different things, has different strengths… What works well with one, is often useless with another. I have yet to find the piece of parenting advice (other than “pray without ceasing”) that can blindly be applied, and hope to be effective with every child.

 

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to understand that there truly isn’t anything new under the sun and that the struggles of today have all been encountered by previous generations. In looking to the scripture for answers, an amazingly consistent message rings out from the book of Proverbs, which is that discipline needs to be a consistent part of wise parenting. Chapter 13, verse 24 says that “He who spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is careful to discipline him”. Chapter 22, verse 15 says, “Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline will drive it far from him”. Chapter 23, verses 13 & 14 say, “Do not withhold discipline from a child” and that punishing him will, “save his soul from death”. Finally, chapter 29, verse 15 says, “The rod of correction imparts wisdom, but a child left to himself disgraces his mother”.

 

Certainly, these passages sound harsh in light of our delicate, westernized, politicized sensibilities, but their truth is hard to deny. All one needs to do is to observe any person who was raised without the benefit of boundaries, consequences and discipline to understand the essentialness of these elements. The book of Hebrews expands on this topic in chapter 12, as it explains that discipline is a means that a father uses to teach a son. It also acknowledges that going through that process isn’t pleasant, but that it is ultimately for the son’s benefit.

 

If one simply focuses on those passages, a picture of the stereotypical, rigid, religious, authoritarian parenting approach can easily emerge. But a more comprehensive reading of scripture reveals a very different and far more challenging aesthetic. Throughout the New Testament, the Apostle Paul reminds us that unless love remains at the center of our motivation, our actions become of no eternal value. He also charges us with demonstrating Christ’s character in all situations, most especially before our wives and children.

 

Interestingly, in both the book of Ephesians (6:4) and Colossians (3:21), he warns that we should not provoke (i.e. embitter, exasperate) our children to wrath (i.e. anger, frustration). I don’t believe he’s saying that we should never make them angry, because as the Hebrews passage acknowledges, no one likes to be chastened.

 

I believe the key word in these passages is “provoke”. And I would submit that he is challenging us to discern between those instances when we are genuinely trying to train our kids and when we’re just taking our frustrations out on them; or when we’re simply acting out of our own woundedness; or maybe even when we’re intentionally trying to hurt them like they hurt us. I believe that they recognize the difference, and that we as parents need to as well.

 

Finding the balance of things is a daily battle for any parent. We want to convey God’s unconditional love to our children, but we also need to help them to understand consequences. We want to provide for them, but we also need to allow them to encounter enough resistance to grow strong and stand on their own two feet. We want to let them know that they can count on us, but not make them reliant on us in the process.

 

We need to develop the ability to relate to them on their level without forfeiting the authority (& responsibility) that God has given us as parents. We cannot live in fear of their disapproval, as that will keep us from ever preparing them to make their own way in the world. We need to raise them with the understanding that the season of our influence is limited and that God never intended for them to remain as children.

 

If I’ve made good parenting sound like a daunting task, that is purely intentional. It is the best and hardest job you could ever have. I believe the only way to be a truly effective parent is to tap into the wisdom and guidance of the Father of us all. The scripture says that apart from Him, we can do nothing. That is especially true of parenting.

On an almost daily basis someone seems to get snared by their own e-mail, blog, comment, post, tweet or text; and it occurred to me that “you have a right to remain silent” and that if you choose to forego that right, “anything you say can and will be used against you” in the court of public opinion. Given that fact, I suppose I ought to exercise that privilege and say no more.

It is the smoke a person blows up their own tail-pipe that will most likely cause them to choke.

Kids who were raised on a steady diet of positive reinforcement and no real discipline, generally become adults who feel as though they ought to be rewarded for doing the right thing and that they shouldn’t have to face the consequences when they don’t. Kids whose strictest form of punishment consisted of a “time out”, tend to grow up to believe that they are somehow entitled to a warning, but that they should never actually be given a ticket.

Whether we see the glass as being half empty or half full depends largely on whether we are grateful for what we have or worried about what we don’t. If we don’t want to be a “glass is half empty” kind of person, we simply need to spend time each day counting our many blessings.

I Call You

This came to me as I prayed for my daughters, but I feel certain that “He” meant it for all of “His” daughters.

I call you sweet melody
Because your heartstrings play a song for me
Don’t ever doubt its beauty

I call you priceless jewel
Because you’re handcrafted & one of a kind
Don’t ever doubt your worth

I call you secret garden
Because your joy is a sweet fragrance to me
Don’t ever open the gate to an intruder

I call you mighty warrior
Because I equipped you with amazing power
Don’t ever use it against yourself

I call you tiny sparrow
Because I’ve given you wings to fly
Don’t ever let them cage you

I call you hidden treasure
Because I’ve woven pure gold into the deepest parts of you
Don’t ever open your vault for a thief

I call you precious flower
Because I made you delicate and tender
Don’t ever trust a suitor who doesn’t bring gifts of water & sunlight

I call you little princess
Because your Father is a King
Don’t ever forget that you are my cherished daughter

5 Motivations to Coach

As the youngest of three brothers and the father of four kids, I have spent countless hours of my life on ball fields and in bleachers. Over the years, I have experienced sports as a player, a spectator, a parent, a coach and even as part of an officiating crew. And while I don’t fancy myself as an expert on the subject, there are some significant patterns that I have noticed in regard to coaches and coaching styles. I have also found that recognizing these patterns in a coach can be a useful tool in predicting what kind of season you’re in for. While that wasn’t a big concern for me as player, it has become a far greater issue for me as a parent. Given some of the coaching scandals in recent years (e.g. Rutgers basketball, Penn State Football…), it would seem to be prudent to evaluate what motivates a coach prior to making a significant commitment to them. Though the five incentives I’ve listed below are by no means all-inclusive, I do believe that they represent a good starting point.

Love & respect for the game: Though this would seem to be an essential part of any coach’s motivation, I have actually found it to be extremely rare. For most, the game is simply a tool used to meet some other deeply held need. When a player is fortunate enough to find a mentor who is truly passionate about the sport, they tend to learn, not only what to do, but why to do it that way. The upside of this approach is that enthusiasm for the game is often times contagious and frequently produces players that later go on to become coaches. The downside is that “playing the game right” doesn’t necessarily translate into wins and in our culture, that has become the ultimate measuring stick for any coach.
Love of teaching: One of the “deeply held need(s)”, which I mentioned in the previous item, is the need to teach. In my experience, most of the folks who spend an appreciable amount of time in the coaching business are quite naturally “teachers”. For them, the court, or field, or arena… is simply the classroom where they ply their trade and all of the tests are open book. Coaches like this are a vital part of developing younger players and tend to be most effective at the amateur level. The struggle for them is that while they value growth and improvement, fans often care more about the final score.
Love of working with young people: Just as people who love babies are apt to volunteer to work in the nursery, those who enjoy young people are often drawn to the fields of play. This type of coach places a premium on relationship, with their teams often becoming like an extended family. That kind of atmosphere can have a powerful effect on players, especially those who come from broken or dysfunctional homes. Yet, despite the clear virtue of such an arrangement, it only seems to be protected when the winning percentage stays high enough
Love of competition: Like those who have the impulse to teach, competitiveness is something that seems to be innate within many people. For them, coaching can become an avenue to exercise that natural inclination. Those who are motivated in this way tend to be very conscious of the bottom line and many are viewed as successful because of that. Unfortunately, when this is the primary driver for a coach, the players and even the game itself, can become nothing more than a means to an end. This type of coach can flourish in a system where they are able to recruit, draft and/or trade players; but often struggle within a program where they have no control over who comes out for their team. While playing for this kind of coach can be difficult, having one of your kids play for them is even worse.
Sports as an analogy for life: A step beyond those who simply love to teach, are those who view sports as an analogy for life. Their vision extends well beyond developing the player, to cultivating the whole person; and the lessons they teach are meant to transcend the game itself. Finding a coach with the necessary understanding of both the sport and the challenges that life presents; and who has the ability to tie the two together, is a rare and precious thing. Playing for such a coach has the potential to be life changing.

Common Sense

When I smell the first blooms of Spring
I cannot refute the miracle of rebirth

When I touch the ones who are dearest to my heart
I cannot deny the power of life’s unseen forces

When I see the beauty and intricacy of all creation
I cannot ignore the evidence of an artisan and craftsman

When I hear the accusations that men render against God
I cannot overlook that only man’s fingerprints are found at crime scenes

When I taste the best that this world has to offer
I cannot help but yearn for something greater

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities –
His eternal power and divine nature – have been clearly seen,
being understood from what has been made,
so that men are without excuse (Romans 1:20)

This morning, on the way to work, I stopped by a convenience store for a cup of coffee. As I got out of my car, I noticed a lady sitting in her car with the window down; as though she was waiting for someone. As I passed by her, she looked at me like she was going to say something, but she didn’t. After I got my coffee, I noticed that she was still there and as I walked back by, she called out to me. With a sheepish expression on her face, she quietly asked, “could you possibly help me with enough gas to get home?” I wish I could say that I didn’t even hesitate to help her, but the truth is that I immediately began to try to evaluate this women and her situation. She seemed pretty clear eyed. Her car was much newer than mine and seemed to be well maintained. In as much as I could discern, she seemed sincere. I’m not sure what I hoped to derive from those observations, as I asked, “where is home?” When she named a town that was almost fifty miles south of where we were, the little cash register in my mind began to calculate how much gas she’d need to make it that far.

For me, this kind of thing is always a wrestling match. The pragmatic side of me wants to question, “what if she’s just trying to panhandle a tank of gas”, “what if she spent all her money on drugs and now you’re helping her get her stash back to the neighborhood”, what if, what if, what if…? But the other side of me asks, “what if this were your mom, or your sister or your wife or one of your daughters?” “Wouldn’t you want someone trustworthy to be there for them?” Of course, all of these things flash through your mind in a nanosecond and ultimately, you just have to go with your strongest impulse. This morning, that impulse was to tell her to pull up to the pump and to head back in to pre-pay for some gas.

As I pulled out of the lot, she waved to me and mouthed the words “thank you”; and as I traveled down the highway, I found myself saying a little prayer for her. She hadn’t offered an explanation of what was going on, so all I could do was pray that God get her home safely; and maybe that’s all she needed. In the end, it doesn’t really matter what her story was. I’ve lived long enough to experience times of being stranded, of being alone and of just wanting to get home. And in those times, it has often been the kindness of strangers that made all the difference. At this point in my life, I’d rather take the chance of being swindled than to take the chance that I ignored someone who really needed help. Some might refer to this as “paying it forward”, and while I hope that might be true, I can also say that I’ve probably got some “paying back” to do. It seems to me that on an almost daily basis there are opportunities to reach out and be a neighbor to someone. To my shame, I often miss those opportunities. On the days that I manage to seize that moment, I can’t help but wonder why I don’t do that more often.

We live in a time and in a culture where it is easy to be cynical about people’s motivations; but even so, there are many who still have the genuine need of a helping hand. I pray that our cynicism will not overcome our desire to reach out to the people around us.