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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Sense of Adventure

I  was working on my next blog this morning while Olivia happily crawled around the carpet squealing and looking at everything she could feast her eyes on.  She would touch the wall ever so deliberately as if she was trying to determine exactly how it felt and as she went from one item to the next, her eyes slowly fixed upon the door that was cracked partially open.  The opening was maybe an inch wide but it was like a screaming invitation to an adventure, to something grand, to the unknown.  Olivia quickly began making her way over to the door that was ajar and as she drew near she slowed and peaked inside ever so cautiously to see what lay behind the door.  She gently urged the door open and made her way inside where a wonderland of amusement, mystery, and excitement awaited her.  She found her way to...her room.

My daughter's sense of adventure is alive and well and her ripe imagination allows everything in her world to experienced to the fullest.  I can remember times in my life when I viewed my life as an adventure.  A time when the happenings of my day were significant on a more reaching scale than my own mere amusement, a time when it seemed there were invitations to grandeur around every corner and a time when I felt alive.  I think I see my life a bit less like an adventure now.  If I had to describe that time with an image, I felt like I was standing on a mountain overlooking an open plain, and now I still feel like I am on the mountain only I have lost the horizon and am looking only at the ground in front of me.  I need to look up, I need to see where I am going, but I fear that breaking from my current state may leave me realizing I have lost my way. 

My heart longs for a new adventure - life has been so full this past year with us buying a house, having a baby, working, and gettting used to being parents.  For awhile, it seemed that the adventure would be becoming parents - but that's missing the mark.  Where it is wild and crazy being a parent, the adventure for Ang and I must lie in doing something, in being a part of something truly grand and worthwhile.

Let me think about adventures for a second...what makes a great adventure? A great adventure has an interesting plot, something captivating and compelling; it has a series of obstacles that must be overcome (nothing great enough to be deemed an adventure comes without resistance right!), there must be a company of people (a brotherhood, companion, company, someone to share the journey with), it must be something worth laying everything on the line for - there must be a risk/reward in there somewhere and an adventure must change the adventurer in some way.  No great adventure leaves a person unchanged.  I want this.  I want an adventure.  I love my family and I like our life well enough at times but it leaves me yearning for something that really gets my blood pumping, something that compels me and something that I feel like is worthy of the short amount of time we have here on Earth.

I want to feel like Olivia must have felt when she saw that door cracked open.  Curiosity, wonder, mystery - these things gripped her little heart and she went searching for what lay behind the door.    

I want that anticipation.  I want that sense of intrigue.  I want that adventure.   That's my prayer.

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Wondering about Wonder

When did we lose our sense of wonder?  When did we start looking at a sunset and forget to actually see it?  I watch Olivia and she is fascinated by the strangest things.  She can't get enough of ears and feet lately.  She shrieks when she sees them and will climb over anything and everything to get a closer look or taste :)  Watching her experience her world for the "first" time makes me think, when did my world become so drab?  Feet and ears don't fascinate me anymore, well except for the ears of old men when they get huge, hairy and kind of floppy (its a badge of honor I look forward to carrying)- I just learned the other day that your ears never stop growing, I wonder why.  My world has become normal, I daresay even mundane at times - that is CRAZY.  How can a world full of beauty and mystery become commonplace? 

One of my favorite documentaries is the Planet Earth series.  The series takes the viewer to places all over Earth - places I could never even imagine seeing.  One episode explores the depths of the oceans, where new species continue to be discovered every year.  Strange animals live there, with glowing translucent features, and appendages that appear to be straight out of a bad sci-fi movie.  Another explores the great rivers of the world and in particular shows rivers running red in Alaska as millions of salmon return to the exact location their lives began in order to spawn.  It is one of the most incredible feats in all creation right alongside the migration of millions of animals across the deserts and savannahs of Africa.  I am inspired to go and see for myself.  I realize how little of this world I have seen with my own eyes and I am propelled towards visions of seeing the sunset across the ocean, and watching it rise across the crest of a mountain - to see the Grand Canyon, the Great Wall, the Pyramids in Egypt, to see an Elephant in the wild, or a great migration of birds.  I am reminded of how little my world is when I think of how little I have seen.  Those are only places and things don't even get me started on the different people groups of this world - beauty in every corner of the earth.

I fear that I get up everyday and look at the world around me and am no longer astonished by what I see.  Olivia lives in a state of nearly eternal surprise...and delight.  She stops everything to examine a doorknob, and is taken back by the sound of rain hitting a window.  When she sees a person she has never seen before she begins to study their features and with a squeal, she announces her presence.  Something just does not add up.  If the world is truly full of beauty and mystery, and yet my vantage point yields normalcy and boredom - something is off, broken perhaps.  I think its me.  I think I may be broken.  I know I may never look at a doorknob the way Olivia does, but I sense I may be seriously lacking some imagination when it comes to the world around me.  Where did my imagination go?  Unfortunately because I am often so self absorbed I miss something incredible because it does not fit into my ideals.  I think the next time it rains, I will try to be less annoyed at getting wet and instead experience the sillyness of water falling from the sky.

The world around me screams of beauty.  How can I spend even a single moment missing that?  I want to regain my sense of wonder; I want to be in awe of something truly grand; I long to be caught up in something far more reaching than my little cubicle of a world.  Tonight I will ask the Author for eyes that can see the world He created in all its splendor and glory.  I long to be amazed.  Tomorrow when I wake I will see the sunrise... perhaps for the first time.

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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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Delight of My Heart

Delight. My heart sings this chorus every time I lay eyes on my little girl - it helps that she greets me with a crooked, toothless grin, her face creasing at the corners as she squints with an ever widening smile. Her smile joins forces with a squeaking, squealing greeting that draws a smile from deep inside - the kind that can't be taken away even in the midst of a challenging day.


The love I have for her was previously unknown to me - a love so inherent and unyielding. When I met her face to face for the first time, something shifted in my being and I knew that regardless of what transpired over the course of my life or hers, nothing could ever alter or stymie my desire to ensure that she would always know what it means to be loved. I hoped my love would provide a shelter and safe haven for her, a place where even if chaos permeated every aspect of her life, she could find safety in my love, find protection in my provision, and rest soundly knowing she will never lack or go without. I ache thinking of the struggles she will face and I glow knowing the heights to which she will soar. I know my thoughts towards her are no different than any other parents' towards their child, but they are extraordinary. Not because they are mine, but because of why I feel that way - its woven into the fiber of my being - down to my core.

Two weeks ago I had a thought that has marked me. I sensed my Father uncovering a forgotten promise, "I love you, just like that.". I wish I lived like I believed that - life would look so different. Nothing more to earn, no need to be perfect - just an invitation to be...loved.

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