Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Friday, June 13, 2014

Two Men I'm Thankful for this Father's Day

In our culture, 'manliness' is a word that brings to mind images clear as mud. Good men stand out like lighthouses in the fog. As I think of the men in my life, I am thankful. I’m thankful that I’ve known men who are loving, kind and unafraid to go against the prevailing tide of confusion.

My Dad
My Dad is kind of a tough guy. Not a jerk. Just seemingly not afraid of...anything. He’s a cop who is regularly exposed to horrible and evil things. He’s a Christian leader who counsels people through messy situations. He fights for justice and what he sees as right. It’s pretty hard to shake this guy up. I don’t remember ever seeing him cry, although, my wedding pictures reveal unshed tears as he walked me down the aisle.

My Father loves me. The way he plunged himself into the herculean task of fatherhood leaves me with no doubt. I see now what I couldn’t understand as a child; he habitually set his own needs aside to care for his family.  From the time I was young, he took great care, not only to make sure I was fed and physically safe, but also in the care of my soul. He invested hefty amounts of time in helping me to understand God, myself and the world around me. 

We had house rules, but the truth is, my dad was as soft as pudding when it came to his kids. Even as I grew up, he was the kind of Dad that would leave work and drive his university-going daughter from campus to her downtown ballet class...just so he could spend some time with her. He cared about what was going on in my life and talked me through many issues. Not once did he shrug off anything that was important to me as “silly girl stuff.” If it was important to me, he would help me figure it out.


My Kids’ Dad

My own husband is a remarkable father to our three boys. He’s hard on them in the sense of encouraging them to do things outside of their comfort zone, but surprisingly tenderhearted when they are wounded or hurting. It’s not unusual for a boy having a nightmare or having a bad day at school to want his father over his mother. My boys know that if they’re having trouble, their dad will not brush off their ideas or belittle them.


He teaches them about cowboy culture, playground bullies and how to draw trees like Leonardo da Vinci. It’s not uncommon for topics to range from ancient battles to the Greek alphabet to Johnny Cash. 

What the bible teaches about spirituality is a daily topic of conversation. He is not afraid to point them to a better father, namely, “the Father of mercies and God of all comfort.” And my boys know that this is the topic that holds the most weight with their dad.

They learn by his example what humble leadership looks like. Between church and family, opportunities abound to see their Dad in action, and here is what they see: 

  • a man who leads with compassion, courage and wisdom 
  • a man who does not blame-shift or shirk responsibility, but makes hard decisions and accepts responsibility for the consequences. 
  • a man that nourishes and cherishes those in his care
  • a man who cares little what people think of him, but cares greatly for their souls
  • a man who values all kinds of people because his "God shows no partiality." (Rom. 2:11)  

The men in my life didn't learn about manhood on the pages of Maxim or GQ magazine. They model their lives after the one Man, Jesus Christ, who has the power to turn back the tide. They have tasted the unconditional adoptive love of God the Father, and the transforming work of the gospel of Jesus Christ in their own hearts, and extend this grace--this family love--to those around them.

It's hard to overestimate the blessings of a good dad. As poet, George Herbert, once said: "One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters."

Monday, June 9, 2014

Winston

Dearest Winston,

I can't believe my baby is turning three. I'm sorry this last year was so chaotic. I feel like I have missed so many nuances of growth and change in you. You are such a special boy and your Daddy and I love you to pieces. Some of the details aren't clear, but here are some of things we love about you;

  • You love to make messes. The problem is you are so cute when you do it so mommy doesn't always stop you like I should. It's true what they say, the youngest gets away with murder. I like to think of you as an artist with an advanced sense of tactile sensation.








  • You love drawing. You will sit for VERY long periods of time and just draw perfect little circles and zig zags. No one taught you how to hold a pencil…you just knew. Your favourite toy right now is the plain notebook and pencil that your Grandma Debbie gave you for Easter. You are forever asking where your "handy-dandy-notebook" is.


  • You like to scrunch your face up and growl at people at the most inappropriate times…usually with strangers.



  • You LOVE hyphenated words. I've never met a child who liked hyphenated words so much! You say things like, "Momma-Grandma-Debbie." and "I'm a horsey-puppy-bear!" With matter-of-fact authority you tell me,  "It's called guaco-guaco-molia" and your crystal clear request at the drive thru window is always a "hom-hom-cheeseburger!"


  • You love to put your big brothers in "bum-locks." You tackle them to the ground, whip your little legs around their neck and squeeze tight--your diaper in their face. You squeal in delight at their discomfort. Your big brothers sure do love you to let you get away with it!


  • You are compulsive liar about your age. You told everyone you were "four" until Knox turned five…then suddenly you were "five" too.



  • No matter where we go, you always offer to pray, and without fail, you pray the same thing, "Dear God, please, don't be scared…" This can be a little awkward, but we know you mean 'please help me not to be scared…as in, at bedtime…'


  • You like to give Knox permission to do anything he wants. If Knox asks for ice cream, your raspy little voice calls out, "Sure, Knox, sure…go ahead!" 


  • You always tell me, "I love you too, Mom!" when I never said it first. I'm so glad you know I love you, Honey!


  • Your favourite songs are "Lion Man," "Baby I'm Howling for You" and "What Does the Fox Say?" Without fail, when you hear one of your favourite tunes, you run to me yelling, "Mom, Mom, dance with me!" And of course, I oblige you. I love your sweet little arms around me and your soft cheek on my mine.


  • You love all things cowboy. You're usually the Lone Ranger or Tonto, roping random legs and door knobs.

Even at your young age, I'm encouraged by things God is doing in your heart. After hearing the song "Bad Things" from Connie Dever's Praise Factory catechism, you asked me,

"Did bad things kill God?"

"Well, Jesus died for our sins." I tried to clarify, but you already knew the answer.

"But he is alive now." You said with certainty. Then your eyes teared up and you asked, "Will I die because of bad things?"

"No, Honey, not if you ask Jesus to save you. He died for you." You seemed to think about this for a while and accept it.

This is our prayer for you, little guy. We long for you to know God's love and care in your life and his mighty power to save. We pray that your life would give God glory and that you would find your happiness and rest in Him.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Favorite Arizona Moments

We just returned from a lovely family vacation. I thought I would share a few of my favorite moments in picture form.


My boys.


Talking the dune buggy for a ride in the desert.



The view from Apache Trail.



Ice cream at Tortilla Flats.


My two year old watching a rodeo.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Mr. Boss Man


My two year-old recently created a new game called 'farm.' And by 'farm' he doesn't mean "You're a horse and I'm a cow" or "I'm on the combine," but rather, he says to me, "I'm Daddy and you're Dave."

In case you're wondering, Dave is the hired man. So our game goes something like this:

My little boy takes an authoritative stance and says loudly, "Dave, help me get this fixed." or "Dave, go ahead and open that door for me." and often, "Dave...DAVE, I need your help here!" Etc. etc., all day long.

I'm beginning to think he just figured out a way to be bossy without getting in trouble.


Friday, October 9, 2009

Out of My Comfort Zone

A herd of cattle running toward me. It's Clint's third attempt to get the cattle through the gate and into the next pasture for grazing. I'm at the ranch helping, and by helping I mean sitting in the Dually with the boys trying to block the herd from going in the wrong direction. Clint is galloping back and forth around the cattle making as much noise as he can to get the cattle moving. My two year old is yelling out the window at the top of his lungs, "Hya cows!" I just finished running through a marsh with a crying baby who has had enough of this adventure, and now my feet are soaked and I am starting to get some sort of suspicious looking rash on my shins. Suddenly Clint is signaling that I need to move the truck because it's in the wrong place...of course I can't start it.


That was the last time we went to the ranch as a family. This time it seemed remarkably painless. In fact, for my two year old, it was a foretaste of heaven.