Let Dad win this time

The girls and I have a race every time I leave the house. I get in my car and they position themselves on the sidewalk. I roll down my window and yell, "Go!" We then race up the street to the corner. I usually rev the engine and pretend to be grasping the wheel for all its worth. I don't usually win, but its always close.

Today when I left after lunch, my oldest daughter was the only one outside. We began our race and about half way up the sidewalk she started tanking it. I slowed down and then gunned the engine a bit to try and encourage her. She just smiled and WALKED up the sidewalk with a grin on her face.

When she finally got to the corner I made a comment that I had won. She looked at me like I was the sweetest thing on earth as she said, "You know Daddy, I told the other girls just the other day that we need to let you win once in a while."

Pitied by a seven year old, ouch!

Some Days Need a Pile of Leaves

I remember when I was young we would pile up all the leaves in the yard and then race across the yard and dive into the pile. We would laugh and wrestle and throw leaves at each other. In those moments there was nothing else...no tests, no bullies, no chores, nothing that steals the innocence of childhood.

So, I am glad when I can pile up the leaves in our yard and jump in the pile with the kids. Enjoy the video of the girls...my son is too big to wrestle into the pile AND take video at the same time! Sorry, no sound but you can imagine...

Surprize!

"They always seemed like such nice people."

Do you ever get the idea that the only difference between you and the parent who is escorted with handcuffs past the mob of onlooking media ghouls to the waiting police cruiser is simply chance? There are days...

Today for example. My bride and I were in the living room. She had just finished a trip to the grocery store and had melted into the love seat. (if you have ever shopped and stocked groceries for a family of 7 you understand) I was on the couch finishing up one of my papers for ordination. Our youngest was the only child left among us - no, we didn't kill them, they were in bed sleeping...peacefully.

The eight month old was on the floor crawling around. She was done exploring the living room and had moved on to the dining room. She had been brought back multiple times already. Her mom and I exchanged, "can you see the baby?" and we took turns retrieving her.

At one point I looked up and couldn't see her. I went to the dining room, not there, the kitchen, not there either, the laundry room, nope. To be completely honest I was beginning to get a little concerned. I mean really, how do you explain to family and friends that you lost one of your children?

I found her soon enough, at the top of the stairs. She is our fifth child and this is no great surprise that she figured out the stairs, but there are two things that concern me. First, that she got up there so quickly and quietly. The other kids played around on the bottom steps until they were comfortable and then moved on to the higher levels. Not this time, straight to the top on the first try.

Second, is that this staircase is made of hardwood. It is really quite beautiful; ornate and detailed craftsmanship, built in china cabinet, the works! But it is also quite dangerous. And there was the baby on the landing looking over the edge as I came up to retrieve her.

This picture has nothing to do with the story. I have thought about the fact that I don't have any pictures on my blog so I thought I'd give it a try. I think he's a nice looking dog. Do you think he's a retriever?

So, I rescued the youngster and all is well. I just thought of how easily we could have been that strung out family on the evening news that let their baby fall down the steps and break her arm or leg, or worse. But I don't dwell on it long - really it would drive you crazy. I thank God that he watches over my kids when I don't or can't.

The irony of all of this could have been that the subject of my paper that I was distracted by was healing! Ok, it's late and I'm going to bed.

Good Morning

Today I was downstairs in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew. As I slipped on my shoes I heard little footsteps in the hallway upstairs. I knew before she came down that it was my second youngest (she's the early riser of the clan). She came down the steps and headed for the living room, the opposite direction of where I was in the kitchen. I followed and stopped in the dining room watching as she scanned the room. I waited patiently as she turned and eventually found me waiting for her.

I lifted her into my arms and held her as we whispered 'good mornings' and 'I love yous'. Then I carried her to the chair in the living room and sat with her as we talked about her coming day. She talked of breakfast, clothes and hullabaloo (gotta love the 4 year olds).

As she talked, I noticed her sore lip. She has taken to sucking on her top lip and it gets chapped. I put some salve on her lip, which was apparently bothering me more than her. We then continued our talk as she contemplated her plans for the day. After another long hug I left for work.

As I drove I thought about how the morning's encounter with my daughter mirrors what God desires from us. He stands watching and waiting for us as we begin our day and scan our surroundings; will we look for our Father or continue on our own agenda? If we seek him we will find him waiting, and he will hold us tightly as we whisper to his ear. He wants to know what we are looking forward to and how we will spend our day.

I also thought of how God cares for us. Just like my daughter's chapped lip, God notices what we need healing from. Sometimes we know too, but I think more often the healing we need we are oblivious to, but he applies the salve that is needed.

We serve a mighty God. He is our creator, our redeemer, our counselor, our healer...and he is our father. And He desires to be a part of our existence.

"I will be a father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty."

II Corinthians 6:18

Just Like My Father

We watched the play-in game between the Twins and White Sox last night. The family was together (except the oldest who was working) watching our beloved Twins. It was a really good game; great pitching, tough defense with a play at the plate, and one home run. We weren't excited about the outcome (Sox won 1-0), but it was still a great game.

After the game we were pulling ourselves off the couch to get the kids into bed. My six year old hopped off my lap and then exclaimed, "I didn't want those stinkin' white sox to win...oh well, there's always next year."

When I stopped smiling, I started to think. Neither my wife nor I had commented to her about the outcome of the game. We had not coached her to call the other team names or lamented that the Twins were indeed done for the year. She had picked all of this out of our conversations before the game. (the "stinkin" part comes from her mother!)

Again, I learn about God through my children. His desire for us is that we become more like him. There are times when we are coached on what to do and say through Scripture. There are other times though when our behavior emulates that of our Father in Heaven simply through the time we spend with Him. Just like my daughter sounds like her mother and me because she hangs out with us...we will sound like our Father the more we hang with Him.