In the words of George Strait...

There is nothing quite like a George Strait song to put me in a transcendent mood.  He is the singer/songwriter of countless #1's in country music and he singlehandedly provided the juke box material needed to enjoy a game of Big Buck Hunter with Paul and Ty.  I can't hear a George Strait song and not think of my wife because even though George perfectly describes our relationship through his melodic tunes, Ang nearly convulses when she hear a tune of his struck up.  It is an unfortunate occurrence though because a song like, "Baby Blue" is very fitting for the last couple of days I have had with her in Denver.

For the past couple of days, Ang has been enjoying some much deserved time away in Denver with some great friends of hers just enjoying the sort of freedom that is scarce with an 11 month old and a husband who acts like one at times.  I could not be happier for her, and I have a snapshot etched in my heart that I will not soon forget, it was a glimpse into the heart of our sweet and loving God. 

Oftentimes, we refer to God in the form of masculine pronouns and most believers readily accept God as their Father.  However, people may consider you a nutcase if you were to refer to God in the feminine or to portray a view of God as Mother.  I think our views of God are really limiting at times as we utilize dichotomous thinking forcing an infinite God into finite categories.  Why is it difficult for us to see God as our Mother when we so readily accept him as our Father?  There is a fierce and unyielding nature inherent within a mothers' love.  A mother's love is in the same breath nurturing, protective, gentle and not to be trifled with.  Who would dare stand between a mama bear and her cub?  And what mom would not gladly put herself in harm's way to save her little one?  It is natural for me to see God as my Father but I need to work on seeing God in a maternal way as well because without that understanding of God I am missing out on an enormous element of the love God declares for me.

As I watched Ang step out of the car and prepare to fly out to Denver, I very clearly saw the depth of bond between mother and child as both her and Olivia said goodbye for a couple of days.  Tears were shed, hearts were laid bare, and the sense of separation left a void that would not quickly be filled.  It was one of the most glaring pictures of love God demonstrates towards us.  I wonder at how deep God's love runs, a love so rich that it would lead God out of heaven down to earth and ultimately to a cross  - all that we might be reconciled to God - that a way would be made for us to spend eternity with God never separated, never gone.  Void filled.

Romans 8:38-39
 For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

This verse describes the kind of love both a father and mother point to, but which neither can fully express on its completely on its own - the kind of love personified exclusively by a God who loves both maternally and paternally in one breath.

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A Walk and a Fight

Ang and I got in a fight the other day.  A fight for each other - not with each other.   The best kind of fight you can get into as husband and wife.  We talked a lot about dreams and about what stands in our way.  She, as always, was unwavering in her support of my dreams and hopes for the future, reaffirming her belief in me and in what my heart longs for.  I am amazed by her.  The journey of discovering your heart and connecting its longings is filled with potholes, obstacles and resistance - encouragement is essential along the way and she provides it in spades.  I am spurred on when I know someone believes in me.

We have been on this walking kick lately (I think we are trying to get out as much as possible before the winter rains set in) and it has been such a great chance for us to talk and discuss ideas and encourage each other.  It's not always easy to find time for those things as a new parent.  We have both felt pretty overwhelmed at times to the point where it's easy to lose track of things - especially your heart.   

As I alluded to in my profile, I am gradually beginning to uncover some areas of my heart that had been collecting dust for awhile.  Writing this blog is just one of my attempts to transform the dustbowl into a reservoir.  Neglecting my heart was one of the worst decisions I have ever made.  Our hearts function like a compass, pointing us in a direction, establishing a course for the days that lie ahead.  As I lost track of my heart I struggled to interpret the events in my life and soon was stuck in an existence mentality where days were meant to be "gotten through" instead of enjoyed.  Disconnected from my heart, I felt like I was drifting along until finally a deep and pervading space was undeniably prevalent inside of me.  The space just sat there, empty - it was the kind of void that can't be filled, save for the genuine longings of your heart.  I am still in the middle of the struggle to regain my heart - it is a daily battle - one void of any shortcuts or any attempts to fake.  As I draw nearer to the Author of all those yearnings and longings, the space is gradually replaced with hope, anticipation, dreams, creativity, trust, and a newfound awareness of the world around me.  I keep thinking I will arrive at some point soon - get to a place where I understand, where my world is full of clarity and where suddenly the puzzle begins to take shape.  I am just now beginning to wonder if perhaps that time is not going to come.  I think somewhere in the struggle to find my heart, I will begin fighting a different fight.  Now that I am rediscovering my heart - the new challenge will be to keep it alive.  I know of only one Way. 

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Crosswalks

"Everything changes when you have a kid."  I heard that so many times while my wife was pregnant as people shared their advice and wisdom for us before we set out on the journey of parenthood.  Boy is it ever true.  I don't think I have ever paid much attention to crosswalks before Olivia came into my life.  I would drive through them without much thought, roll through them as I turned right at a stoplight and even avoided them when I was crossing the street.  My relationship with crosswalks has forever changed. 


Walking downtown with Ang and Olivia last weekend, I clapped at a car that drove through a crosswalk that we were walking through.  It was completely illogical as I am not sure if I expected to create a sonic boom that would stop the 1 ton car in its tracks - I guess I was simply making a point.  Ang thought I was making a joke as she proceeded to clap at random cars for the rest of the day as the giggles overwhelmed her.  In fairness to her my clap (just one hard clap) was REALLY random especially since I aimed it at the passing car - no words came to me and I wanted to reach out and stop the car with one hand to remind the driver that I was pushing a stroller with my kid in it.  However, in the moment my hard clap felt like the right move. 


Just yesterday we were out taking a walk in the morning and on our way to get some coffee we came to a stop at the dreaded crosswalk.  My wife gracefully passed on the opportunity to remind me of "the clap" as it is now referred to in our home.  As we waited, 2 cars drove right past us.  I started wildly waving my arms,  as the third car approached and he managed to acknowledge me with a wave of his hand as he proceeded through the apparently invisible crosswalk.  Needless to say my frustration began to mount.  A fourth driver, completely oblivious to our family waiting for him to stop drove me to action - I one-upped my last attempt.   I waved my arms, yelled "CROSSWALK" and pointed to the crosswalk.  Ang turned bright red and chose to walk about 20 yards ahead of me as the car abruptly came to a stop.  I walked through the intersection feeling no shame, only an abiding sense of pride at accomplishing my feat of stopping the car so my girls could safely cross.  I smiled to myself.  Now Ang has two things that can make her laugh any time she thinks of them. 


I can't figure out why I care so much about crosswalks all of a sudden, but to deny my frustration would be dishonest.  I guess I now have a mission to fulfill - something has awakened in my man heart and I will ensure my family can always safely cross the street at the crosswalk.  I know. I am ridiculous :).   

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