unfinished business

There was once twelve spies that had a mission...they were sent to spy out the land of Canaan.  Don't worry this isn't strictly a bible story--so hang with me for a moment...

They went out and saw a beautiful and bountiful land ...the land was producing amazing crops and then they saw the Anakim...giant like people and descendants of Anak the giant.  They felt tiny and powerless to defeat such an imposing people...their Fear prevented them from stepping forward and believing this to be their moment of destiny...and trusting in the good things God was promising to them.

Only two of the twelve spies returned a good report--Joshua and Caleb.

When the people as a whole decide to heed the majority's report--they decide to not proceed and they are sentenced to wander in the desert and wilderness until that whole generation dies.  Interesting that the only two that don't die are Joshua and Caleb.

Not much else is known about Caleb except that once Israel captures Jericho and begins to occupy the land---Caleb is remembered--and he is asked what part of the land he wants.  Remember, Caleb is an 85 year old man at this point.  Still, he had unfinished business with the Anakim.  He requested that his inheritance be the rugged and mountainous region near Hebron--and the stronghold of the Anakim.  Caleb said "give me this mountain...it may be that the Lord shall be with me, and I will be able to drive them out" Joshua 14:12.  What Israel failed to embrace forty years earlier--Caleb was anxious to embrace as an old man.

Unfinished business....it can bring insurmountable fear or it can become the mission of stepping out despite our fear.

I'm not 85 yet and I'm not going to compare myself to one of the spies that left a good report...(in fact those who know me well--know that I probably would have given the fearful bad report--yet God still goes before me to bless and give me another opportunity to set things right) but I do compare the fact (and I see it in many other men my age) there are some missions that I haven't fully stepped into despite the opportunities...and I call it unfinished business.

I've been just talking out loud with God this week and he kept bringing this story of Caleb to me and this 85 year old man leading a charge saying "take the land.!"  I keep mulling over what it means but there can be no misinterpretation of his words for me this year...

The table is set and I've spied it out...

Abba's Way is a mission that provides the setting to connect Dads with their sons and daughters in events like "The Father's Heart" and the Father's Delight." What are these events about you ask?

Join us for the Father’s Heart Weekend and make a memory with your son that will last a lifetime. This weekend will provide everything you need to bless, affirm, and provide a rite of passage for your son. Just show up, and we’ll do the rest.
The Father’s Heart Weekend is a life-changing experience for fathers and their sons. Celebrate the boy and call out the man in your son this year! 

This is a no technology bonding weekend that your son will never forget.  When we give of ourselves as Fathers--our time, our words, our actions and our attention...the results are there as much for us as for our children.

Join us for Father’s Delight! A day of Adventure, Ceremony, and Celebration that offers so much more than a father/daughter dance. This event is for girls age 6-12 and their father.

“Once upon a time” are among the most enchanting words a young girl hears. She grows up seeing herself as a princess and imagining one adventure after another. She lives in the land of make believe daily, so, what better way to connect with your daughter than to step inside the fairy tale with her for a day.

Father’s Delight is a magical day you and your daughter will never forget that includes: all kinds of activities, low ropes course events, and a dinner & dance that will rival any castle balls dreamed of in her fairy tales.  It will give her kindness and love as you share your time and your heart for her.

 Mission 1:
I've volunteered many times at their events but now I am looking to be a leader and that's much different...It's scary to know I can't just blend in...or simply show up to assist.  So much time and planning behind the scenes must occur...and finding the voice at the right moments to not interfere but to inspire and augment the events.  Finding the voice and remaining authentic is a daunting task for an introvert.  It has to be that the beautiful and good outcomes must overcome the fear in getting there. It also requires God to show up in places for me to set the table so I can step in just as he panned.

Mission 2:
I have 77 staff on my team at work now...we have made incredible strides in this department and setting that has never been accomplished before...every measurable statistic has improved greatly..and yet...in my heart there is another level to this that I need to communicate the vision I can see and lead in laying out the steps to go from really really good--to GREAT. Some things can't be measured in a statistic--but felt by the internal and external customers daily.  I don't want to lose all of the good things we have...and it could all crash and burn so easily...yet in my gut I know I'm called to lead us to the great this year.  Everyone looks around and can see the really really good and feels good about it--so why embark on a further mission and risk losing the current created culture?  When I invite others to look at the mission and invite them to help me develop it all--I see blank stares and realize very few can see the picture I'm painting...Now I need to paint it but describe the strokes--the vision slower and develop it in their heads and hearts before moving forward.  Again--the table is set--and we need to embark on this mission...The mission is some unfinished business for me personally.

Now that I've penned it to paper...it's truly out there for all to see and know if I've followed through in 2018.

Mission 3:
There is one more bit of unfinished business and this one will remain unspoken on this blog.  Although I am keeping it anonymous it is the third piece of this trilogy that is truly unfinished business.  Suffice it to say that it will require a miracle and it's not all up to me to orchestrate the pieces and parts into place but again will require courage and set aside fear. No matter how it fully plays out--it will be a chapter of redemption--and any time that is our goal -- it aligns with God's heart and the larger story that plays out every day.

The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time
 Mark Twain

I am looking forward to "fully living" more in 2018...

To quote Caleb -it's time to "Take the Land!!!"

Prison

It was completely dark.  Only some random clanging outside my room somewhere out in the dark corridor.

I surveyed the room in the darkness...lighter and darker shadows but nothing to the normal naked eye.  My eyes had become accustomed to the darkness...I could see more than most in this shadowy graveyard.

The cold stone floors I sat upon were unyielding and cold.  The stone wall I pressed my back against and wondered if anyone knew I was here...for so long I had assumed I was long forgotten.

For so long...silence and darkness...darkness and silence...which came first?  I was swallowed whole by both and drowning in the hopelessness of the darkness.  Almost cruelly I was persevering breath by breath to keep myself gasping from drowning and going down forever.

How long has it been this way?  I wasn't certain. Did it hurt?  I didn't even think about that anymore...it was immaterial...I was a survivor only in being alive.

I heard footsteps...something I hadn't heard in years...another person?  A tormentor?

The door slowly creaked open and a crack of light pierced the darkness and shown like a beam...the pureness of a blinding beacon...it was terrifying and yet the surprise was welcomed to my routine of hopelessness and solitude.

There was a silhouette...a silhouette of two strangers...the one low to the ground leading the way...almost growling with deep breaths and courageous intensive purpose.  The one behind him was strangely familiar and yet foreign all at the same time. I felt a bead of sweat begin to run down my forehead and then trickle down my cheek.

This was a feeling I hadn't felt in a long time...a memory of anticipation from the depths of my memory.

"Do you want to be free?" said the deep voice of the one in front.  Free from what? I thought to myself....Do I answer?  What if I answer wrong?

Out of fear of my own waiting reply...I began to shake and quiver with fear...

I suddenly awoke--full of fear and wonder...

...it was all a dream...but what did it mean?  That blinding but beckoning light...the growling creature leading courageously and the other strange but seemingly familiar figure.

Shaking off the stupor of being asleep while awake...I began to get to my knees...I pushed myself and summoned all of the strength I had to command myself to rise.  Slowly and unsteadily my legs began to support my weight and rise. Hunched over yet now standing I suddenly realized there was a slight hint of light around the doorway to my cell...through the bars the light had me wondering..."this is new"....

I reached my hand out shaking...trying to steady myself and my arm.  I grabbed the doorknob.  I suddenly heard a voice "that won't work--it has never worked before--remember."  But I didn't remember...I began to agree with the voice.

Again--out of the darkness...the heavy breathing...almost like a wild animal stalking me...and then a snarling wild sound like a deep growl...It caused me to forget the other voice...my arm gained strength....and yet I was afraid.  I took my hand off the door.

From within my room I heard a voice..."what are you doing" it asked me.  Strange...when did this person arrive...how long had they been there?  Who are you? I thought but I didn't have the courage to squeak out the words.

Again he spoke..."It's about Hope" with deep conviction and a convincing tone.  I almost felt inspired merely from his presence.  "what's about Hope" I asked...suddenly realizing I could speak.  I haven't heard anything --not even the groans of suffering for so long...I had only disconnected resignation.
"Life--it's all about HOPE" he stated.  I wondered...hope for what? hope in what? Where was this going?

"Your journey...and your return" he stated. With exhilaration rising within I could feel energy surging to my muscles and coursing into my veins... What journey and a return to what?  What could this all mean?  A journey---leaving this place?  What will it be like?  Will it be a place of suffering and even darker?  Dare I try to listen and make a journey?

"Come on --we have to try" he stated...his voice encouraging and booming out into the darkness urging me to open the door.  I reached out again...quivering...  "It's time for your return" he thundered out...his voice again--authoritative and sure of his words...sure of his mission.  Gaining confidence from his words and encouragement I again reached for the knob...frightened but my adrenaline now flowing...I gave it a turn.

To my utter surprise it opened.  Some light from the corridor began to pour into the darkness of the room...it was blinding to my eyes which had not seen anything but darkness for so long.  Suddenly a voice again... "there's nothing for you out there...only death awaits you."

So frightened by the words...I pulled the door closed quickly and cowered in the corner by my usual stone wall. It all felt hopeless and pointless...what was I trying to prove anyways?

Exhausted by all of it...I started to doze off again...then I heard the loud breathing of that wild animal...snorting and growling and not to be run off...he seemed to have an intentional purpose in his presence.  "I will go before you" he snarled... The shadow across the room raised his voice as well..."They await your return" he stated...confident and steady.  "It's all about the journey"....gaining strength from the voice and the creature--I decided to again open the door and follow the creature. I turned to ask the shadow with the voice if he were coming too.  The place where the voice came from was empty...he was gone...yet I didn't feel sad...I wondered where the voice had gone to....

My eyes had begun to grow accustomed to the low glow of some shadowy light as I followed the creature into the hallway and down past many other doors.  Each door had a small window with bars at the top.  I wondered..what are all these doors and rooms?  I stopped and peeked in...to my shock there was a hulk of a creature in this room...he was a Wild man.  Better he be behind that door than out here with me is what I thought to myself.  "What is his fate" I asked the shadowy creature.  "This is not yet his time for his journey" stated the creature.  "His time will come soon enough."

In the next door on the opposite side of the hall...a golden light was emanating from within.  Strange...and yet drawing me to it...I peered deep inside wondering what I would see next on this journey.  To my surprise I saw only the back of very large and outstretched wings. The wings were so bright and golden and light seemed to reflect everywhere from them.  A bit blinding...I thought..yet useful and comforting to have a creature so bright in such a dark world..."Can he come on the journey" I asked the creature...expecting to be turned down again.  "Sure enough" snarled the creature breathing deeply -- almost growling.  "He will follow to guard you from behind."  I opened the door and this amazing golden thunder bird began to hop behind me ...when he outstretched his wings there was no room behind me for anything else that I could see...it was a safety I hadn't known before and also there was no turning back at this point.

We continued down the hallway and I stopped at each door to ask about the occupants...behind one door an un-aged beautiful falcon the creature announced "New Falcon"...another the creature announced was "Justice." Each door the creature would announce the name--for some--- the doors would open and the occupants would assemble and fall into line behind us...for others it was not yet their time and they sat motionless in their cells of despair...seemingly unknowing that each cell door remained unlocked...just like mine had been.

The corridor was growing brighter and brighter...but the journey was becoming so long...I began to have doubts...what if this creature intends to devour me himself?  How do I dare to trust him?

At long last....We arrived at the end of the corridor and to a doorway that sunlight streamed in from around every crack and side.

"Do you want to be free?" thundered the creature....

 He pushed the door a crack... and more light streamed in...Turning to look at me full in the face I suddenly realized the creature was a Lion--frightening and powerful with a huge golden mane glistening in the sunlight.  "I will always go before you" he roared... and he was gone...he disappeared.

Was he just a dream...is this all a trap?  The fear was creeping back in ...yet the light was before me and the golden winged creature was behind me....and the others were walking with me on this journey.

Suddenly the light was gone...I heard a voice...a familiar voice--"It's all about the journey...a journey of Hope"...it was the silhouette's familiar voice...but it was coming from within me.  I stumbled into the room and fell on a carpet with the others all around me seemingly from every side.  There was a man I fell into.  It was the second man that had come to my prison...the one who was familiar yet very distant from a memory of some kind....as I looked at his face I realized I hadn't seen him for many, many years. The last time I had seen him he was a much younger man--perhaps even just a boy.

Suddenly feelings came rushing into me...the blood began pumping...joy, fear, sadness and empathy all at once rushed into the chambers and I remembered my name "Heart" I said.

I looked again but the stranger who was in front of me was now gone.

From within I heard the silhouette's voice "The journey continues...Voice and Heart have returned."

Suddenly a trumpet piercing the room as if announcing our arrival...a dramatic fanfare.  The lion was there suddenly and spoke "Heart has returned after years of solitary banishment...Voice has now joined as well...all is as it was intended...I will renew and restore this creature..."

I suddenly realized that the golden creature was not behind me.  I caught a glimpse in the mirror of the shining walls of the room--and caught a glimpse of my reflection..I was that golden creature...the Voice and Heart had found their place once again...within the Golden Raven.

"The journey continues" stated Golden Raven and he spread his golden wings and set a course towards the horizon...seemingly straight into the rising sunlight. Hope was rising with his flight as the light streamed across the sky.

Knowing the ending doesn't spoil this story

Usually knowing the ending to a story can really ruin the whole book...the whole shootin' match...

A strange title and a little "off" from the every day jargon we have become accustomed to.

This is a part of my story...

I went to a weekend 8 years ago to deal with some of my lifelong built up anger and disappointment with people, with life...

One of the many challenges coming out from that weekend was that I wanted to be encouraging and challenge others...to speak in to their lives..to give hope.  I wanted to become who I was meant to be. Of course to speak into others lives means we need to have a voice and walk along in life with others--neither of which I was participating in regularly.

I was challenged by one man to journal about every relationship I'd ever had with anyone--any contact at all...and then list two words to sum it up.  It was difficult but I did this assignment and journaled about every person in my life I could think of and then I came to a realization that had I heard it from anyone else I would have dismissed it and been angry...but there was no one to argue with or dispute my own words that stared back like a window into my soul.

All of the disappointments...all of the anger...defensiveness...
Each relationship had a summary with the same pattern of they had wronged me in some way and I was alone or forgotten now. Either it's a worldwide conspiracy or I needed a change of heart.

I was watching the movie "Kingdom of Heaven" and watched a scene that deeply resonated with my heart. Liam Neeson is speaking to his son and trying to give him wisdom.  They are headed to Jerusalem during the crusades period and his son has shame and guilt from his past that he can't let go of.  His Father realizes this and offers this advice "There at the end of the world..you are not what you were born--but what you have within yourself to be" Baron of Ibelin.

If it is indeed what we have within ourselves to be--then the responsibility is mine to change this story...and change the ending.

I had been looking at all of the relationships in the wrong way...they were all mini stories that were part of the overall story. The plot was flawed from the start.

Brene Brown talks about a moment in one of her books where she talks with her husband and comes to the realization that those who hold the premise that basically people are doing their best from where they're at in their own story...if we approach it from there...I am free to not have to be judge and jury but rather I'm free to move on in my life.

When I approached life from this premise it's amazing how the happier people I talked to were indeed ones who agreed with this premise.

This also allowed me and even dared me to reconnect emotionally with life...

"Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
--CS Lewis

This quote WAS my story...I was safe and intact.  It had to change or the story would always remain the same.

“The opposite of recognizing that we’re feeling something is denying our emotions. The opposite of being curious is disengaging. When we deny our stories and disengage from tough emotions, they don’t go away; instead, they own us, they define us. Our job is not to deny the story, but to defy the ending—to rise strong, recognize our story, and rumble with the truth until we get to a place where we think, Yes. This is what happened. This is my truth. And I will choose how this story ends.”
― Brené Brown, Rising Strong

So reconnecting after years of disconnect was not an easy road.  In order to choose a different ending and make this a life worth getting up and battling each day---I needed some changes indeed to say the least.

Choosing how the story ends is an interesting thought because it begins with the end in mind.

I know what I want the ending to be...what are some things I need to battle with daily to get there?

Vulnerability, transparency and humility were now my powerful allies where I had believed in self protection and determination as some model of courage.

It's really easy to judge..it's much harder to continuously put yourself out there every day...

I found a path in reading some interviews with Bob Goff and his book Love Does.
Bob had discovered profound gratefulness in the scenes from his life...instead of seeing them as disconnected scenes they were actually woven together in their very fabric through the thread of gratefulness. Someone had given him some of their time when that was something they had the least of to give him.  This realization has fostered an intentional direction to live by gratefulness and loving others well. "Loving people well means living with constant interruption" he states...how true and there it is.  I wasn't reacting kindly to the interruptions of these relationships...yet isn't that how life unfolds?  Difficult relationships are available all around us--and it's our choice to engage or to live like love is in short supply or to stand in the gap and give hope.

"People who live their lives filled with gratefulness see more waterfalls because they are looking for them" Bob Goff.

That reminds me of my first encounter that same year with the hummingbirds migration.  I went to Warner Park and I sat down exhausted from the different jobs I was working and lost in thought.  As I changed my focus to what was directly in front of me I started to see first one...then two..then tens...even fifty different hummingbirds.  They were all around me but I wasn't looking for them--so I missed their very presence like a blind man...a blind man to their beauty, speed, change of directions and the joy of watching them go go go...

As I stood there 7 years ago and looked out the back of the fast food store I was working in--I looked out over the city scape and trash dumpster area and saw the usual telephone poles, hot humid air rising but I saw something else in the usual dismal cityscape.  There in the ugliness was a beautiful double rainbow over the city.  It reminded me there were redeeming stories and scenes everywhere on my journey...and it began to fuel a desire to intentionally plot a course through the very middle of that city to listen to others stories, encourage and refuel belief where belief had been lost...it's about giving hope.

...and if you know that it's about giving hope...you know the ending of this story.

redemptive dreams

Redemptive Dreams

What is it about a dream or wish that makes us come so alive?  That slight flutter within my heart that wants to believe...wants to grab hold tightly--but it's too good to believe. It's a little excitement...anxiety...hope almost fulfilled...a hope for something to happen.  By definition --really a wish.

wish

wiSH/

verb

1. 1.

   feel or express a strong desire or hope for something that is not easily attainable; want something that cannot or probably will not happen.

   synonyms:

   desire, want, hope for, covet, dream of, long for, yearn for, crave, hunger for, lust after;More

noun

1. 1.

   a desire or hope for something to happen.

   
   

   synonyms:

   desire, longing, yearning, inclination, urge,

2. 
   
3. I think I should explain.  A week ago Michelle shared something personal that was laid on her heart--something private and really improbable...perhaps a wish in a perfect world.  I listened...pondered what she was sharing...and having those words touch a long since buried and unattainable dream - I came to life.
4. 
   

Dreams can fuel us in ways no one can explain.  The next morning when we had a few moments to unpack the conversation from the night before she wanted to talk about how "alive and full of life" I became when the subject came up. So much of life can be mundane and survival...our own comforts and selfishness.

Dreams bring life--they allow our hearts to fully come alive. 

Little did she know what those words would mean to me and my heart.

The subject...adoption.

On the surface it looks ridiculous to even consider such things.  Most parents my age are considering their next chapter in life and their children moving out and on with their own lives.  With so much drama and events in our lives--why consider such things? I can hear others thinking "are you kidding me? They can't handle the children they already have!"

In 2006 Michelle and I were considering such things when a few drastic events and diagnosis buried the dream under an insurmountable pile of events. At the time I thought "God--how can you take this dream away?  It's a good thing, it's not selfish...surely you will not have it end shattered?!"

Many years later as God was working on Michelle's heart...and the time and place to present this back into her mind and thoughts...She is so gifted with making our house a "home"...she makes each person feel truly cared for and special. She shared with me what she was feeling and... Boom--I was right back connected to that dream again.

What she didn't know was that I've been praying about "legacy" and how to change the world.  Most people think grandiose and I have considered some ideas regarding starting a new organization...as well as I've been helping with "the Father's Heart--Abba's Way" and sharing parts of my story at father & son outings. I've even considered that perhaps sharing kindness at work might be the only significant accomplishment I leave.  Many times I have observed God working change not in the big--but in the small....taking what we have and making it bigger in the end.  What better way to do that than by changing 1 life?

As my story has taken twists and turns I have come to know a few truths about God the father.  He recycles the pain and failures in our stories...he uses the theme of restoration and redemption as his personal fingerprints and signature on every story I've observed when we allow it.

I'm a little slow on the uptake of realizing things and connecting the dots.  What I have witnessed is that my greatest joys in my life have occurred when I've allowed God to complete a story of redemption...and I've engaged in the story as a willing active participant and let him provide the opportunity--and watched him work a miracle.  

One of my most valued possessions in life is my relationship with my son Grant.  This relationship is fulfillment of a dream...a redemptive one where even though I didn't have that special or desire or relationship with my own dad...he taught me to not quit or give up...to pursue my son the way I had wanted to be pursued by my dad.  I had no blueprint or training that qualified me other than the school of failures...God uses what we have...I knew what I didn't have...it became everything I imagined and more.  Grant is my best friend.  He has incredible dreams.  He is a fantastic communicator...and he "gets me" when I share an idea or story.

It's just an example of God using and redeeming what was there in my life.  He knows my imperfections and shortcomings and yet he sees other things in me as well.  I imagine that is how God sees us.

God also has a way of leaving "calling cards" as have come to know them.

What are calling cards?  Reminders that we are seen and known as only an intimate ally could know.

I have a memory of golfing with my brother about 15 years ago.  Now, I hate golfing and golf was the activity--but as I teed off on that short par 3 over some water and cat tails I heard this distinct sound of a bird call.  I felt the warm rays of sun beaming down onto my face.  I felt the slight breeze and I saw the image of this beautiful bird in front of me.

The redwing blackbird has become a calling card for communication between God and I.  It's a reminder that he remembers the joy I felt in that moment.  It's like "hey Glenn...remember this?  I know you care about this" and it grabs my attention.

At different times he will bring back that distinctive call to make sure he has my attention--not as the focal point--but to alert me that he's on the move and something's about to happen.

When I had the dream of making a difference in one life--reawaken last week--as soon as I spoke it out loud...drama in events and family immediately erupted. I know what it is--an attack to keep the dream from fruition.  Everything possible comes against our dreams--even those with the best of intentions have ugly results against it everywhere.  Even work things that were not working out suddenly change at that moment...why?  Because we get everything thrown at us--even possible busyness of success to keep us from fulfilling our dreams. They are old tricks...but they work so often so we see these used repeatedly to take us out and detour us.

I brought up the "calling cards" part because this dream is not imminent...it will not be happening this month...but God was reminding me with this calling card--"hey Glenn--remember this? I do..."

God was the only one who could weave his redemption and restoration theme throughout my life with Grant"s and my relationship...to the point where we have gone to father & son weekends to talk about our relationship.  Who saw this as possible?

There are other events in my life and parts of my story where the timing isn't now for redemption and restoration..but I trust God is working out his theme...I feel it ... and I know it--with deep confidence and conviction.  When the time comes..if I am willing-- the pieces will all come together a a beautiful mosaic piece of redemption I couldn't possibly have dreamed. Maybe adoption isn't the path he will choose...he always dreams bigger than me.

In my own life growing up the drama of foster children and adopted children left me sad and feeling forgotten.  It would be crazy to re-enter that world and wouldn't make a lot of sense in the world's economy.  Logically I should be running in the opposite direction. In my heart, I know God is longing to restore and heal that piece of my story.

Although the timing is still not now...he speaks with a reminder of "hey--remember--this is something you care about...and I will redeem this too in your life."

the shaving towel

...it's an old brown little shaving towel....

Or is it more?????

It's old and the color is fading...nothing in particular to make it stand out as significant. It is frayed around the edges and even thread-bare in spots.

This towel has been to Ecuador to build a school in the sun on a mountain at 15,000 ft elevation ...traveled on a boat in the center of a volcanic lake...
...been to Katrina relief in Gulfport, MS to hear stories, patch roofs of peoples homes, patch lives to keep moving forward, been in the center of black mold and dying,
...been in fire relief and salvage in Gatlinburg, TN...pulling objects from the ashes...always listening to stories of survival...from all of these adventures...

This frayed and faded brown towel is the only item I wanted of my Dad's when he passed away fifteen years ago.  My Dad's happiest and best moods were when he was camping, in the mornings...he would come back from a shower and shaving with this towel around his neck...he would be humming, singing, or whistling tunes and his look on his face was joy. He would begin to prepare breakfast for everyone with great zeal. Bare chested and not self conscious...openly singing and whistling with unabashed joy.

Although I didn't get to share too many adventures together with this man when he was joyful, I imagined it would be so wonderful to go on an adventure together...explore new things, be full of wonder and bind together...to share time...to have him want to spend time with me...to want to spend meaningful time together and not have an agenda...just want to spend time with me for who I really was. I dreamed he would be proud.

After he passed and remnants of his life were gone I grabbed hold of the brown shaving towel.  That towel has accompanied me on every adventure I've endeavored these past few years.  When we moved 660,00 lbs. of rocks and cement, and built the school walls in Ecuador...he was there. Sweating together...we shared the exhaustion of happiness.

When we listened to Sheriff DiDeaux share his story of that wall of water coming in from Katrina and pulling bodies from the water, he was there...when we worked with the chainsaw gang (a team of twenty chainsawing and another 5 pushing, moving and clearing the debris that they would cut he was there....When we patched roofs with numerous blue tarps...climbing like a monkey from rooftop to rooftop...in the humid heat of the bayou he was there climbing with me. When I was climbing trees to cut off limbs ...he was there...and one day while climbing one of those trees I almost grabbed a live electric line adjacent to my arm...it was an accident and it happened fast...I wasn't thinking...it scared me..what was around my arm that grazed that wire.?..protecting me was that old brown towel.

When I staffed New Adam weekends and lived to see freedom dawning as the sunlight over the mist on the south Harpeth river...smoldering ashes from a once blazing bonfire ...as I named my heritage and claimed my new name...he was there as the sun beamed down on my face.

When my son Grant went with me to Gatlinburg for the fire salvage...he was there.  I explained to my son--he (the towel) was captive--and had to accompany any adventures with me but that it had also protected me.  It reminded me of all the gold moments I saw my Dad in...and by bringing it with me, I felt I was having him share in the gold of my life's adventures.  How I wish we had made more adventures together while he was alive.  My vow to myself was to share in these adventures with Grant to make things right...but I believe it is more to make things how I longed for them to be...to share adventure, to share the gold in life.

So the next time you see me on an adventure...I'll be the one with the gold...eh...brown towel...living the golden adventures of life.  So much redeemed in the moments since he passed...I can see it clearly now.  If you haven't had great moments with your Dad and he has since passed...grab a hold of anything that represents the good moments...share with him the man you have become...if he is still alive...make the moments count and ask for what you need while you can. Maybe you will get what you ask for...maybe you won't...the power is in the asking...and in the asking you are free from any regrets.

the Dark Knight

The reason I share this now is not for shock or anything other than to point toward Hope and what God is doing in my life...This is a piece of my story....

It started one afternoon as evening was approaching.  I was eight years old.  My Dad was angry at me...I knew I was going to "get the belt."

I could hear his heavy footsteps approaching..directly coming for me up three flights of stairs.  There was no mistaking his approach.  It was time.

I pleaded but it fell onto deaf ears.  The standard approach was to drop your pants and shorts and bend over the bed with hands in front of you.  This is very unnatural and offers no defense...no matter how much of a rule follower you might be, this is difficult to keep this position while someone whips you with a belt repeatedly.

I started flopping around, writhing in pain ...screaming, crying, yelling...my face hit part of the bed frame.  That would cause a "shiner."

My Dad stopped and took me into his bathroom to clean it up.  Somehow in those next few minutes instead of being cleaned up I had my head slammed into his sink.  Now I had two black eyes and a swollen bloody face.  My body bore the whip marks of the spanking as well.

The final step of this humiliation was to be taken downstairs into the living room...the screen door was propped open...my Dad has something under his arm...he showed it to me, unzipped a suitcase...He proceeded to throw it out the front door and halfway across the front yard.

"Now you can leave this home with what you came into this world with." I was smacked with a cruel reality I had no answers for.

Obviously I had come into the world as everyone else...with nothing.

I made a few decisions in that moment...standing naked on the front porch...hoping nobody saw me in that moment.

I decided:
If these people are going to beat me up...I need protection...
I will buy my own clothes somehow so that I will have something to take with me if this happens again...
I will stash away food for the times being sent to bed hungry as I cried out...but nobody answered...


Enter...my reaction...

My heart disconnected from them that day.  Emotionally I left home that day.....

In my heart I only would give the look...what is the look?  The serious, no smiles, no joy...serious look of someone who is emotionally disconnected and only will give "steely" glances of ice.

It did serve to protect what was left of my shattered heart.  In some ways it saved what was left of me.  When someone young goes through something that is irrational and makes no sense...they either find a way that works for them or they don't survive. This is a fact.

I remember heading out to school and being questioned about what had happened to me.  I simply told the truth..."my Dad did this...it was punishment for what I did--I deserved it."  There's honest truth...the school wanted my parents investigated.  After they had been questioned I was yelled at for what I said because "if they take away your brothers and sisters it will be on you."  I didn't understand...I had spoken the truth in an innocent honest way.

I pulled the darkness closer...slipped the mask on a little longer this time...feeling the protection..focus..purpose...protection that that it offered...not realizing what I was giving up in the transaction.

The defining events from the next few years pushed me further towards the darkness and the protection and answers it offered.  The teasing...any other issues in relationships quickly became a part of the narrative I was creating. I worked far too many hours for a kid in school...but I was determined to have money for fear of the flying suitcase - Act II.

For those looking at me from the outside it was a curious thing.  Some guys would want to pick a fight simply because they thought I was trying to act tough.  Act tough???  I was surviving...simply surviving.  The fights that were picked ....the teasing, constant attacking or ganging up on me from other guys from their own insecurities just further pushed me into the shadows.

Pretty soon..by 15...this is who I wanted to be....... Who I truly was--was never a thought... there were enough people that liked some things about this character...and some that hated him....and he wasn't going to be hurt by either camp.

The disconnected darkness gave me a freedom to speak up.  It wasn't all bad.  It made me courageous enough to speak up for what was injustice...no fair...bullying of others would not fly near my radius of darkness....

For those that I offered protection and friendship...some even saw glimpses of the real me underneath and were true friends.

For others they used my darkness for what they could get from me...others still doing acts that could only further push me out to the shadows.

By the time I reached college I barely was a trace of who God had created me to be.  I carried these wounds all my life.  I've tried to lay these things down these past few years.

If it weren't for my son, I probably would have continued "as is" to the grave.  The deep need to give him more than who I had been to that point...spurred me out of my comfort zone and out of the darkness to stand back and look at the wounding...who I have become...and who I truly am.

It's truly impossible to convey the entire story and the commitments we make as we grow to survive in the story we are given.

I am giving up the protection of this persona that has protected me for so long. It doesn't mean I don't visit him from time to time when stress or pressures become overwhelming.  It does mean I am aware of who he is and what happened...I am conscious of all of it.  With that in mind...that is not all of who I am or what my legacy is.

I buried the dark knight...
It doesn't mean I won't mess up things in my own life...after all, he was here for a very long time-and in his defense--he did protect me.

I do like things about him...
His sense of right and wrong...justice,  his lack of fear...sense of courage, his battling against all odds.

Perhaps some of the things that I admire I will find to be true of myself as well.

I do know that even the Dark Knight spends much of his time as Bruce Wayne...a philanthropic, generous man who shares his resources with many in need.  There is much to be said of living in that side of this equation. He also lives in the light of day.

I can't say that I will never put the mask on again ever...I can only say I will never take on the darkness intentionally. I will never make an agreement like I did so many years ago.

sometimes we get something totally different than what we came for

My most recent trip to Gatlinburg for fire salvage and relief wasn't quite what I pictured.  What do I mean?  Well, I always observe so much during any kind of trip like this and it teaches me things long after the trip is over.  This time was no exception--I observed and learned a great deal.

As we all scrambled into the tent to watch a film with Samaritans's Purse staff and the other volunteers it was clear to me--"everybody else knows what to do--they are clear in their purpose and direction...what am I doing here?"

There is a pecking order with men long after high school...depending upon the backdrop and event determines the pecking order.  In this case, most of the men had hunting or thermal overalls on and insulated working boots..special gloves, the right manly tools for this type of work or a pick-up truck that concealed all of the necessary special tools amongst the rolling contents.

This was me, my son Grant and his friend--let's call him Henry. We had none of those things...just willing hearts.

We didn't quite fit the bill so we found ourselves at the far end of the pecking order with sneakers, regular gloves, sweatpants or jeans--no special thermal clothing to justify our being there.

We didn't have any special tools with us to assist either...as I looked around and sized up what was going on...I felt very incapable, when all I wanted to do was simply help people.

Henry was particularly cold and freezing...shivering visibly and we all know we can't shiver or shake or show we are cold in front of the other "real" men. Since he's young Henry must not have known the "real" men rules..do not look them in the eye unless you have the right clothing and tools and can exchange true manly stories of other times you have helped in similar situations.

In Henry's defense his father has never had time for him and his mother has pushed him to excel in schoolwork towards his degree...never able to really get attention for himself without producing academically...and even then it can be short lived attention.

What happened?

Those men began to give Henry attention.  One of them gave him some gloves..another some tools, another some water...still another started sharing his work stories with him.  He has mentored and shown what it looked like to be included in the "company of men."  They kept him in their group and talked to him through situations throughout the day.  They had him sifting through ashes recovering melted silver dollars and gems.  He became a part of this story...one of the heroes that this family will never forget.  He became a man that day because other men showed him how to be a man--and they put their stamp of approval on him--they bestowed it upon him.

By lunchtime he was sharing stories and someone had shared their lunch with him (real men apparently pack extra lunches for these events as well in case those of us just show up not knowing all of the rules of preparation).  By the end of the day it was tough to pull Henry away from his new pack of coworkers. He was not shivering..he was full of joy and youthful exuberance...he was re energized by the work and interaction.

Of course it would be difficult to leave--everyone wants acceptance...Henry found acceptance in being mentored by all of the men of that group.  The family he was helping knew him by name and were sharing their fire story with him directly.

The day before this Henry didn't even know he was going to do this.  He honestly believed he would do this to add something to his resume to please others...or recruiters, his parents...what he discovered was when real men--mentor other young men...the world becomes a better place for all.