the Old Warrior

The day begins...

The old warrior looks over the armor that once glittered in the sunlight...today it shimmers a little less --the overcast skies casting a grey over the homestead.

He reaches for the breastplate and straps it on wearily...stretching his arms out as he covers himself with the needed protection.  His arms and shoulders ache under the pressure and strain of supporting their own weight. His helmet now on...he straps on his sword...protection from each enemy---and weapon to strike terror into the heart of his enemy...and then reaches for his shield...protection from many a foe--he begins to recount his past foes...the battles he and the shield have shared...each foe different -- some valiant...yet no match for his speed, skill, elusiveness, will to survive...and something yet unnamed...

The energy begins to course through his veins...the power returns to his fists, his heart pounding and pumping courage to all parts of his body....

This day feels different though...the armor feels more like a weight as he grapples with the thought of another battle....self doubt begins to creep into his thoughts. He steps out into the arena of life...already waiting to face him directly ...a shadowy knight of great stature and strength...one who has tormented his daughter...taunting him...as he feels the familiar helpless feeling of a foe that cannot be slain but continues to inflict damage to his daughter. He seems unstoppable and not even in a place that can be struck or slain...simply a foe to engage each day...and hope for the best...or renewed strength to battle and bring the fight to him. He fights on...striking and striking at him...yet never solidly connecting...

To his left another foe...A green knight with the shield symbol shows as "$"...another familiar foe who frequently shows up to capitalize on his fears...providing adequately...having enough for his family...yes--this feels very familiar.  When things seem good this foe often rears his ugly head to steal joy and rob strength...he begins to engage this foe--battling powerful thoughts swinging away pounding on his armor and shield without end...

But wait...a third foe...to his right...a giant "C" on his shield....'tis the knight of Circumstances...he has attacked his other daughter...stolen her horses...and laughs as the absolute unbearable weight and daunting task of all three seems absolutely impossible. Throwing lies and other circumstances in his path--he fights to determine what is real and where to really strike to do battle with this foe.

The old warrior strikes valiantly...taking on all 3 at once.  He battles hour after hour...day turns into night and back into day...sword drawn, shield catching the blows as he fights on...into the shadows, persevering and fighting on into the night yet again.

And then something that has rarely happened to the grizzled veteran...a feeling of loss of strength...his courage waning with the sunlight...he realizes for the first time that he will not win against insurmountable odds...that he will not strike his foes down...he begins to lift the sword less and grips his shield tighter holding on to protect his very life all the while the enemy laughs and taunts him louder and louder.  He begins to doubt his warrior strength...What has always worked for him will not lift him to victory this time...

Feeling hemmed in from every side...and the three knights taking their turns and taunting me as they begin to strike fear into the heart of the old warrior. Then a strange thought comes to him in his grief and abandoned state...that Only in calling upon your name and giving the fight into your hands can I be saved....

He calls out to the ultimate warrior...

...he calls upon the name of the one who gave him his special fighting skills..."Lord, it's so hard for me to ask for help...but I confess...I have such need of you...I can't do this on my own or within my own power".  "For so long I have fought believing I should never call on you for help--because after all--you are the gifter who gave me what I have to fight on--I should be faithful and use what you've given above all else. I am so weary of the fight...strength fading from the battle...and you are silent and I fear you've abandoned me. I don't know if I can still BELIEVE the victory will come."

The sun began to peek over the horizon...Could I be worthy of hope?  I wondered in my thoughts and in my mind.  Inexplainable things began to happen...the Knight of "C" was front and center now swinging his sword for damage...with a mighty strike of lighting like a warrior from the sky...he was struck and disappeared...vaporized...gone from the circumstances of today. The circumstance faded with him...and they were not able to strike him down or torment him further this day...simply gone.

"Thank you Lord...thank you oh thank you..." the old warrior repeated again and again drawing strength from what he had just seen.

The green knight stepped up his attack instantly not allowing any celebration.  Again I called upon the ultimate warrior..."please...please save me." I fought and grappled...hand to hand...wrestling the mighty giant.  I was slipping and unsure in my footing as the giant gained the high ground and sought to finish me off.

He swung his sword round as if to finish the final blow...but suddenly was inexplicably struck down...and vanquished.

"Lord, the battle is truly in your hands"...with humility and gentleness not known to the warrior's heart he struck his sword into the ground...and again began praying earnestly...

"Lord--you created me to fight and wage battles...with a created strength and persevering purpose...and determination that has made most foes fade and fall...yet it hasn't been until now that I realize you are the mightiest of all warriors...and in surrendering and yielding the battle into your hands--this is the hardest thing you've ever asked me to do...and to trust you completely for the fight..."

After this realization...he opened his eyes and looked upon the remaining foe...the one prayer as yet unanswered...the healing of his daughter's heart and mind...tormented by the final foe.  "Lord--as yet there is 1 unanswered prayer and warrior I face--locked in combat daily--his strength set stedfast against my family...not willing to be out of the shadows to fight directly...but always casting blows and retreating back into the shadows of life. Lord--please give healing and victory here."

He turned to face the familiar imposing foe yet again...hoping in his heart for the victory...but feeling overwhelmed that it was too much to hope for...He grabbed his sword...picked up his shield.....wiped the sweat from his brow...the saltiness stinging his eyes as he squinted to see with clarity. He felt an icy wind blowing...he set his posture against and into that icy wind...yet again he needed to trust...yet all in the kingdom...all the wise counselors advised him...this was a battle he would not win..."nobody in the kingdom can defeat this foe" they told him.

The "unnamed"--would it show up yet again?  Would HE powerfully go before the old warrior one last time to inexplicably defeat this foe? That was the unnamed powerful thing that had always occurred in the past--which now he could name.

Perhaps the victory in life comes from trusting and believing when we are truly vulnerable and powerless in our own strength. 

..the battle lines are drawn...The ending is yet to be written.

Look closer....see the unseen

I have always loved going to Warner Park with my family. It can be crowded or empty...full sun--or overcast....I just like spending time outdoors.

About 9 years ago started one of the roughest times in my life...we had no money for entertainment...and so what did we do?  We went to the park to walk and talk...meaningful conversation, some of these conversations were just between God and I. Walking through pressure and difficult times was the way God held my attention best.

One of the most amazing things to me was in August 2010...and from then on each late August and early September ever since.  My visit to the park began like any other...I parked the car and stepped out onto the grass...passed the Nature Center and headed across the field of burned up grass, now brittle as straw from the pounding heat over the course of the long summer season.

I lifted my eyes up long enough to see the mountain ahead of me and stepped into the woods and began my ascent. I climbed up, heat pounding down...sun oppressively finding me and beating down looking for my submission. My legs fought through heaviness and found the motion to keep pressing onward and upward.

The bees were everywhere and wildlife was scampering about in my peripheral vision. Birds soaring and gliding...their songs filling the air. The chipmunks and squirrels criss-crossing the walking paths with their own unmarked highway.

I could hear the sounds...smell the end of summer coming...the end except not the end of the endless heat. Everything was still seemingly beating down on my shoulders and the back of my neck. The weight and the heat...were relentless.

I finished a couple mile jaunt and turned to head down the hill and back towards the Nature Center. For some reason I slowed and spotted a row of rocking chairs on the porch of the Nature Center and slumped into a rocking chair in front of some tall wildflowers to take a break.

I needed help in life but evidently I wasn't beaten into submission enough to cry out for the help I so desperately needed. So I sat and rocked...and thought about life...

I caught sight in my peripheral vision as I lifted my head--exhausted by life and the chase for peace and redemption...merely thoughts in my head but nothing within my reach.  What WAS within my reach was a whole buzz of activity I had never noticed.

There were hummingbirds everywhere--all around me...they were amazing wizards of the sky...dashing this way, darting that way...and soaring straight up...darting left, gliding right, hovering right in front of my face.  How had I missed this for so long? They were gray with muted colors, yellow and green with red throated markings. One was jet black with a bright red dot on him...that one I decided was my favorite. The muted and vibrant colors, the color of the wildflowers...shades of orange zinnias, sunflowers and ox-eyed daisies...the smell suddenly filled the air.  The sounds of the "chirping" of the hummingbirds chatting at each other filled the airwaves...

It turns out the hummingbirds visit heavily in this same time period every year...their migration cuts a path that intersects this park without fail each year.

I had always been so fixated on my climb and the path ahead that I missed the miracle of life right before my eyes.  Whether I had noticed it or not...seen it or not...it WAS happening right before my eyes.

Once a profound truth has been seen...it cannot be "unseen"...for there is no going back to the person you were...

One time when I was in Ecuador I was working side by side with so many others--so many interesting stories that had brought them to this mission field and this week.  We were broken into 3 groups/teams...one was leading bible school daily for the children of that region...one was laying brick and build a second floor onto the school...and my team was tasked to lay the foundation for the next team that would come in and build an addition onto the school.

I felt the work I was tasked with was the least important in my mind and less than remarkable in nature...stacking rocks and attempting to level out an uneven dirt lot...and then to use a cement mixer from the 1950's and combine the elements and shuttle wheelbarrows full of cement...well it seemed less than inspiring to say the least.

I tried to hold back and simply lead by example...I really didn't want to push my way to the front and lead this week.  On my team were so many younger people and and many of the less cool people by the world's standards...kind of a band of misfits in our own right...and me--one of the oldest misfits working to get our job completed.

On Tuesday we met at night...a secret meeting of the team's leadership which I was invited to attend.  I listened and observed...everyone was frustrated with the lack of production...myself included...in fact the harder that I worked in that altitude...I just couldn't make it happen...at least not in my own strength--which was so frustrating.  I do recall what emerged from that meeting was a prayer for unity...unity in purpose...of one mind and one purpose--the whole body working together....

When we got up the next morning...it was simply "different"...the day felt different and I was ready for things to unfold with anticipation...I simply knew I had come to the end of me...and that I was ready for God to make something happen.

We were ready for the cement mixing portion of the project...and had less than half of the week to do what was needed.  Time is never an issue when we leave it in God's hands...the tasks are never a concern when we leave them with the only one who can see a miracle through.

Ken, one of the senior leaders with contracting experience turned the team over to me...I approached the group and brought us into a circle..."We are going to try some new things today...stay with me...each one of us has a purpose and we will find it here--and today."

First to appear on the scene was Vickie...she was a gruff short spitfire ready to bark out commands if given the power...I'm not certain where she had been all week--but we weren't utilizing her skills. She became my job foreman...calling out the needed supplies and in what order were needed...organization...planning...

Doc (as we called her) and Lisa were our rock shovelers, and Rebecca and Chris Kent were our sand shovelers...and Chad was the cement mix adder...we all were wearing our bandanas over our faces like desperados....

And Chris Jackson from Hurricane Mills...well he was "country strong"...his name after this day...he volunteered to lift every coffin of rocks, sand and cement mix with me --in a combined orchestrated move to bench press and dump each coffin in...I have to tell you I didn't believe he would be tough enough "to hang" and get the job done...but on this day--he was country strong..and super human in stamina and strength. He lifted all told 880 coffins of rocks, sand and cement mix...and I counted each one...being a numbers person--I just did it for fun...

Together the team out performed what any of us would have done alone...we got into a rhythm...I was able to call out the strength in others and make sure they were cared for with water bottles and making sure they took breaks...but none of us really wanted to stop...it was fun--instead of work.  The truth is when we work with others doing what we do best it is not work...but calling out the best in each other.

Well--the endless chain of wheelbarrows kept coming as an endless train of energized people...transferring what we were mixing together and spreading it everywhere...that day we worked for 11 hours...and got more done than we had the entire week.  Everyone was bringing their best but the combined synergy was colossal...almost every person blistered through double gloves as we wore out our hands...our clothes...our bandanas...what was happening was we had bonded as a group...

I never slept so good as I did that evening...

The next morning I was a volunteer with the bible school and children and was helping them...but thinking about my team.  Without me they were still plowing through and would finish ahead of schedule.  When the Bible school was completed I tried to simply slip into the background and assist so that I wouldn't disturb the group's rhythm.  Instead...once discovered--I was invited front and center like a relative who could not escape a family that loved him...it was that welcoming...a sensation I had not really encountered prior to this...and I filed it away in my heart that picture of this team and the feeling of joy in serving with them.

As the shadows grew long and the last wheelbarrows were completing...I could feel the last of my strength leaving my body...we were completed and 1 day early.

What happens when it's not my strength--or plan?  We had time and staff to send painters to paint murals at a vision clinic that did eye surgeries.  I'm not a painter...I don't have those skills--but that group of painters painted beautiful murals on the walls for those children who would be coming for years to come.  The plan and results were far better than my meager thoughts of completion...there was beauty, compassion and inviting others into the journey together.

I remember the team photos together as we stood--not full of pride--but rather full of joy to have worked together and cared for each other...and where did we all stand?  All 3 teams stood on the foundation my team had worked so hard on....

What I could suddenly see was that once gifts and skills were visible to me I couldn't suddenly pretend to no longer see them in others...if no one else could see them --I needed to call out what was visible to me....and if I didn't want to lead...it didn't matter...I was being asked to lead by others...I couldn't hide...someone had seen something in me. There was no going back...Once a profound truth has been seen...it cannot be "unseen"...for there is no going back to the person you were...

I have recalled that week several times...shared this story and others...but I realized there was more to leading than getting a job done...it was the quality of the journey--and caring for those who make the journey with you...and finally celebrating well--together.

I have continued to grow and each team I work with I learn something new...without fail.

I also realized as I continued to "see things" that I needed to speak about what I was seeing...to strengthen others and give them hope.

Growing continues to happen--and then one day it startles us because we see something different in the mirror than what we remembered. Something formerly unseen becomes visible in our lives...

See the unseen...

Mr Fair

I used to go to a Christian version of Boy Scouts known as Brigade.  Every Monday night I faithfully went...

When I was close to 16 years old a man took over...his haircut was short and always looked freshly cut.  His eyes were narrow and very direct.  He looked like ex-military of some sort.

Mr. Fair was a very disciplined man indeed...there was no mincing words...direct, disciplined and contrived I decided in my mind.

On a campout weekend we were doing the foolish fun things that a 16 year old does with free time--create havoc.  We were up until all hours telling stories...running around the camp, waking the leaders up over and over again unmercifully...turning over the outhouse while someone was in it....and one of my group had placed a can of baked beans in the coals of the fire...I looked down--realized the can was glowing red and starting asking if they had punched a hole in it?  It was too late--the can of beans exploded and the shrapnel of the can flew like a missile into my neck... it missed the jugular by about an inch...Mr. Fair judged it was my can of beans and I was a fool as he drove me to the hospital and later home. In truth--I just realized it was there and wanted to warn everyone to get away...I don't even eat beans.

One day a week later our Jr. leader had a falling out--a shouting match in front of all of us against Mr. Fair.  This Jr. leader was a friend of mine...but he hated authority....well--he had good reasons for it...but it made no difference--any authority was something to fight against in his mind. After the yelling and falling out from the war that we saw...we all wondered--now what?

Mr. Fair examined the landscape--scrutinizing the remaining battlefield and army before him.  Mr. Fair pulled me aside and asked me to talk with him outside.  Strange--I wonder what this is about?  Mr. Fair had never spoken to me separately from the other brigade members...I didn't think he liked me very much--let along know who I am by name.

Mr. Fair started to tell me that I had the makings of a leader...that people will follow me.  I remember it as being the first time someone had noticed me and tried to mentor me in some way to step into the space shaped for me...I told him I would take the mantle--still unsure but a little excited about bringing together what was remaining.

Later that evening our Jr. leader returned and apologies were made...things were made right--right in front of us. 

Of course this is great--but it begs the question--where does this leave me now that I had been promoted to the same role formally?

Mr. Fair leaned into the issue almost sensing my inner question...."Glenn will remain in this new role as well...we now have two leaders--two Lieutenants."

That night I grew a few inches taller in stature and confidence...I felt as though I had been seen and noticed for being myself. It was a feeling I would appreciate and only feel a few more times in the coming years.

A few years after my Brigade years were over I saw Mr. Fair banging away on stage on Sunday morning playing the Tympani--with force and preciseness...but also with a musical freedom I hadn't pictured him with.  He was somehow different than the man I had previously judged. There was an even more human side to him expressing himself through music--which I never would have imagined.

Many more years later I was selling all of my belongings at a yard sale in preparation of moving to Franklin, TN.  Who drove up to our house in Dublin?  That's right...it was Mr. Fair.  He sized up my John Deere riding mower and handed me the cash--I think it was for one of his children.  We made small talk--but there was kindness in his eyes and banter that was different from what I had pictured earlier...maybe it was because now we were talking man to man--but he seemed to be a good man I thought.

A year later--that old Jr. leader he had had words with many years before wound up in trouble with the law and in jail.  Many people ran the other way from my old friend because of what he had done and the details that came out.  I spoke to this man this year and he was abandoned by everyone--everyone except one man that came to visit him--that's right...it was Mr. Fair--he was still fathering, mentoring and had more to teach and give to this man.

I was wrong about Mr. Fair with my early judgements...he was a strong man who stood by others in the fiercest storms of life...he lived not by how myself or others had defined him...but how he walked with God and was willing to go places nobody wanted to go...Working with teenage boys...getting in the middle of problems--he was willing to engage--and stay engaged in the fight...and years later he was still mentoring some of us in a way I didn't understand many years before.

Mr. Fair...Thank you.

Cutting Stone

Back to the job site...another start to the week. The sun was just peeking above the horizon.

Strange thunderous sounds can be heard close by...I suppose more stone workers starting early--getting a jump on their day too.

Nothing but white stone everywhere as I walk down stairs and descend into the side of the rock.  I pick up my tools and start banging away. After lathering up a good sweat and humming a tune to myself...banging rock...cutting stone....suddenly a man is in front of me.  I'm guessing he is the new partner they have sent to help me finish this project.

"Extra tools over there for ya" as I point to the corner.  The man walks over and bends down and grabs the sledge hammer...he begins to pound away with me---in rhythm.  "A lot going on 'round here today" I said.  He just kept banging away...seemingly enjoying the physical work. 

It's easy to get lost inside your own thoughts with everything happening recently.  So much commotion...people happy...people angry...people sad but everyone has strong feelings this week. The past week was kind of a blur....

The man stopped...I can only see his profile but never his full face...

Deliberately he heads up the stairs and outside into the new sunshine.  The man speaks with a woman....low talking at first...then she is embracing him like an old friend.  "Strange" I thought but I went back to work.  Soon he came back and was back to work hammering and pounding the area into submission. 

The guards that were here on my last work day are no longer here...and it is very quiet once the woman leaves.

This is not my favorite job for a stone cutter--but it pays the bills.  I don't like the thoughts about being here amongst the dead.

The job is moving along quickly with my new partner.  He is very quiet but he is a good worker I thought to myself.  I wish everyone would partner like this.

"Let's break for lunch" I said.  The man headed back outside with me.  "Hard to believe all that has happened this week--eh friend?!"

"What do you mean?" asked the fellow stone cutter?

"I mean...the man riding in a week ago as the awaited Messiah...and then by a week later--his crucifixion--the leaders got rid of him quickly..."

"What man is this?" asked the fellow stone cutter.

"The carpenter from Galilee...the man with astute learnedness in all of the books of the law...and a man who was unafraid of the temple leaders...he called it like it was...sometimes kind and gentle fighting to allow the children to come to his side...other times fiercely full of fire to heal the sick--and drive out demons....and compassion--there was nobody like him...he always gave more to others."

"He sounds like quite a man" stated the fellow stone cutter.  "Oh--he was" I said....and then I was out to get bread on the morning before the sabbath...and suddenly a man next to me was taken by the Roman guards to carry this man's cross up the long hill."

"The man was a prophet of some sort...yet he couldn't escape their grasp" I said.  It's sad that it comes down to the powerful...having the power to do as they wish."

The fellow stone cutter grunted...then stated "Maybe there was a different plan even more powerful than what meets the eye" he stated...

Two men came running up looking like they were racing for their very lives...they raced past and to the tomb next door.  Like was shining brightly out from the darkness.  "Strange things still happening" I said.  "I was told to mind my business and stick to my work....so I have."

"Indeed...and you have done that" stated the fellow stone cutter.  "You have carved and pounded and cut out an area for the future dead to be laid" he observed. "You have done what you know to do by trade...skillfully carving through the solid rock."

"It reminds me that since your wife died two years ago...you have been as impenetrable as the very rock you work on."

Shocked at the fellow stone cutter knowing a part of my very own story--I quipped "How do you know these things and who are you?"

I felt a burning in my heart as if a laser had pierced my armor that had long protected my broken heart.

"James...I have come to cut through the stone around your very heart...here...today."

As the fellow stone cutter finished uttering these words he slowly turned and I caught his face and his eyes for the very first time...there was a fire in his eyes like lightning...he placed his massive hand over my chest--over my heart...there were scars on his hands...Suddenly I felt my own heart--pounding strongly--and I was keenly aware of it...it felt as though a weight had dropped off of my chest and shoulders...and instead of just being--just living--I was aware I was alive...and then he was gone.

There were many other stories I heard through the next few days...strange appearances...to the men who rented my upstairs room --and to other women as well.

I can never forget the fellow stone cutter who looked within me and spoke my story---the man who broke through my stone encrusted heart and brought my sorrow out...the man who cut away the stone and brought me back to life.

the Mysterious Silent Blessing

 Once upon a time...The sun peeked over the horizon and spread its warmth across the valley. The royal flags waved in the breeze of a beautiful early summer morning.

The trumpets raised and declared the departure of the royal caravan.  The precise pointed notes declaring greatness and grandeur.

The King and Queen approached the gates on their beautiful black Spanish mustangs. They snorted and raised their heads as they fell into the procession line of all family and staff...it was time for a trip. There were the royal cooks, attendants and servants, magicians, wise men, doctors and clergy.  Everyone was traveling this day.

They trotted over hills and down through beautiful valleys to the neighboring kingdom.  All along their journey there was expectation in the air...balloons, singing, waving and joy for the impending event.

Around the corner they came...As they crossed the river across the bridge approaching the castle destination...the sun hid its face...the clods hung low...a gray fog was looming low all about and it eerily rolled over their feet and hid the surrounding valley and surrounding hills and orchards.

They approached the gates but the guards stood frozen...unable or unwilling to move or return the greeting.  The gates stood closed and locked...

Through the bars of the gate opening one could see the musicians who stood in the middle of the town square--instruments prepared and ready...yet silent.

The servants jumped in and raised the gate to allow the royal caravan to enter.  The King motioned a grateful wave and the soldiers moved to the forefront to examine the strange scene before them.

As everyone entered the courtyard..they dismounted horses and carriages...

They had expected to see a welcoming brigade worthy of a royal wedding.
Instead--they saw a kingdom frozen under a gloomy sky locked in time and unable to move forward.

The king moved bravely through the castle doors and into the banquet hall...preparations had been made...but there was a haze that took away the luster of anything resembling anything of celebration.

Everywhere were servants, attendants, soldiers....all locked in a set position.

The king summoned his magicians first..."what has happened here?".  "My lord-"-they said..."it is the work of a dark spell for certain." "Proceed carefully for we know not the origin of these strange doings."

The King became more concerned... He proceeded forward to the chapel--strewn with hanging streamers...wild flowers bouquets...but strangely dark and locked in time.  "What evil trickery is this?"... There in the side room was his daughter...the princess...dressed in her wedding gown...but it looked hazy and grey in the dim lighting and the low fog penetrating every area as far as the eye could see. She did not answer his call.

The King called for his wise men..."What is the remedy?" declared the King.  "My lord...we know not what induced this dark spell over your daughters kingdom."

There was a rustling heard across the room...one lone peasant was moving..."You" thundered the King..."You come HERE...this instant." Frightened the timid young man approached.

"What has happened here?" demanded the King. Shaking at the sight of the King...The timid young man could only say "it is surely a spell"..."and one of which the origins point back to those seeking answers" and he bowed his head.

What could this mean wondered the King.  He turned back but now his Queen was locked and frozen in time and place...his servants and even his soldiers. Growing ever more frightened the King mustered the courage...to inquire "who are you?" The young man answered..."I was the fool...just the entertainment for this occasion..."

"What is your name" asked the King "and do you intend me harm as well?"
"Aggin" he stammered "and no my lord...I have no ill intentions for you...for you are needed to break the spell."

"You see my lord...you've been here before....it was time for the royal blessing of affirmation.  The trumpets signaled the words were coming the doves were released into the air...the stage was set my lord... and..." He stopped as if the pain of retelling the story was causing intense pain to recall the details.

"Yes--go on" stated the King....
"Well Sire...you opened your mouth and silence filled the air."
"There was no royal affirmation spoken...Instead you only gave silence.  From this moment on..the Princess is locked in time and cannot be released without the words she needs to hear...only then can the spell be broken."

The King stared at his beautiful daughter...he thought about memories of running through the royal forest together playing games...and watching her ride majestically across the meadows and jumping streams with her golden pony tail bouncing and free.  He thought of her prankster side always playing jokes on the royal guards to gain a chuckle.  He thought of her sense of adventure the time she had rode off to see the big city on her own when he wouldn't grant her permission to go.  He pondered all of these things...so many wonderful and unique qualities...yet he had never spoken a one over her...instead only the quiet...he felt ashamed...and deeply broken.

A tear rolled down his cold stiff cheek as his mind raced through so many memories and bright thoughts of his daughter.  The fog was creeping up his side and he could feel the chill of stillness approaching his own heart.  Like a man coming out of his own fog...he cleared his throat and looking boldly towards his daughter the Princess..."I don't know if you can hear me...but I need to speak over you...Growing up you were an amazing bright child that loved to do mischievous deeds to our guards--sometimes even tying their shoelaces together...of course I dared not laugh to urge you on further.  You loved to race through the forests...ever running faster as if you might take off and take to flight at any moment."

As the king was speaking his words the fog began to retreat...and the horizon yielded its light for the first time in who knows how long....

"I loved to see the joy and pleasure when you rode your stallion...jumping the streams and racing through the meadows.  I saw...but I never spoke of it.  Twas never silliness of a wayward damsel--but the dreams of a growing princess racing towards her future kingdom.  Finally--I saw when you raced off head strong for the big city with no support and no protection of guards.  My heart was broken when I thought of you being gone...I always thought you would be here by my side. Twas adventure for you and I can see that now in the light of the future." Tears were now streaming down the King's face and the streams shown gold to everyone there.  Everyone was now bright...filled with color and beginning to be alert and hear.  His daughters eyes slightly turned and were locked onto those of her father the King..she was hearing every word as if receiving treasure.

She was almost undone at the sound of these long unspoken words that her heart had not dare to openly hope to hear.

"I bless you my daughter the Princess...go forward from this time with the knowledge of my deep love for you and joy of seeing your happiness.  You have brought so much joy to my heart...I only wish you could move forward with the same joy from this place and claim your kingdom that awaits your presence."

Suddenly everything looked different in the sharp brilliance of the light...
The spell had been broken by the assistance of a fool...the wisdom of the simple defies bright ideas of the learned and wise men and magicians...because our words have power...the power to change the world and the world of those we love in our life.  So many opportunities for blessing are met with silence.  Many other times they can be met with the yelling words of a tyrant as well--but now that is a different story in an adjacent kingdom.

If only we truly had the opportunity to give our words Aggin...or Again as it is pronounced today... then we could surely guaranty a happily ever after ending...

The moral of this story is that our words have power and that power is unmeasurable...we can declare the truth we see and bless...or we can sit silent and keep our children frozen in time...locked in place and unable to move forward. It doesn't matter what we ourselves received or did not receive...the power and opportunity to bless sits the same before us.

"Get What You Came For"

 I was driving at twilight across the Kentucky countryside...it was cold, barren, desolate and dimming by the moment as the last bit of sunlight faded...As I pulled into the parking lot it was already packed and the darkness of early nightfall in January pervaded over the countryside...making it cold, dark and uninviting. I caught a chill as I bounced out of my car looking for a sign of where the entrance was. 

As I approached the building and paid the entrance fee my eyes were scanning looking for my son Grant.  It was a sea of college aged kids--and the event was a series of fights for different weight classes.

I saw my son's friend Sam and Grant appear from around the corner- side by side - and that was the first and only friendly faces I encountered.  Being somewhat suspicious of others to begin with, I had no problem going into my defensive mode....Grant had his hand wraps on and was shadow boxing and listening to his own adrenaline pumping music.

I've known and watched Grant for a long time--but he was laser focused this night in a way I hadn't seen before...some of the other fighters were walking up and down this hallway--eyeballing him...making comments, being rude, disrespectful, and many other things I can't really say here--suffice it to say that their own narcissism or fears played itself out right before my eyes.

Grant and I had talked in front of the ocean about dreams.  Now I'm not always a huge dreamer but I do have a few things I will share with those I am tight with in my inner circle if I'm asked. Some dreams are: I want to write or speak in a way that makes the world a better place--a way that changes others--and changes the world, I wanted to manage a team using principles I've learned in difficult places--allowing others to do what they do best--managing from a place of trust--having a high level of accountability--and promoting from within--reducing turnover--increasing morale--all of which = operating from within Trust to give others hope, and I want to see stories have second chances for redemption and restoration.

Grant has dreams too...one has always been to box...to test himself against a great fighter--to see if he can hang against the best. 4 years previously as a freshman he had considered joining a fraternity--mainly for the chance to box in an event that year.  He had agonized over staying independent and then not being allowed to participate and compete.  He had always lamented over the fact that he had never gotten his opportunity to really test himself.

This year, while he was working a job and being a full time student, he began to attend a gym and found himself a mentor that was willing to tutor and train him about the discipline and skills needed to actually fight.  We all need mentors in life that will speak into our lives and encourage us--and teach us....He worked really hard and pushed himself to learn, watch, read and train...he learned so much and pushed himself until he was ready for a test to see how far he had come.

We can all try things--but we never know what we've got within us until we have an opponent to measure our growth.

All of the jeers and taunting he received as he entered the auditorium--he seemed impervious to...he was a picture of concentration--ready to be tested.

In the very first round instead of "touching up" gloves he was greeted with a pretend touch up and thud to the head by an undefeated fighter. What happens in life when we get rocked determines in large part who we will become and who we really are. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78ZaREPJd-Q

If you can see the video on you tube (paste this link) with that address please do--it's riveting...not just because it's my son...but because it's a man determined to show to himself and the world that he belongs.

I was keeping a score in my mind at ringside--I had him winning round 1 and behind in round 2.  As he was drinking some water and talking with Sam for strategy he was looking a little tired and unsure for the first time that night. I had little to no time to think up advice...I suddenly found myself yelling--"Grant"--"Get what you came for."

Sometimes it's not the long speeches but rather the wisdom of the simplistic.  What did you come all this way for in your journey?  Well--are you going to let that moment pass--or are you going to grab a hold and wrestle it with all you have within you?!

As the final bell sounded I realized I had seen my son chase a dream and wrestle it with all of his might...and it revitalized my own dreams within me.  I had more to give and still do...and I need to step up and train with an intensity and purpose to exceed that which I had just been a witness to...

I intend to "get what I came for" in 2018...