Some nights, story time is a challenge.  Actually…many nights, story time is a challenge.  My son can be a bear to wind down – he claims he’s nocturnal…he’s 7…how does he even know what that means?

Tonight he and I read our way through yet another episode of Captain Underpants when I finally told him it was time to wrap up.  As usual…he complained, but obliged.  “Daddy, is tomorrow night Boys’ night?” – a reference to the fact that my daughter is going on an overnight tomorrow.  “Yes sir it is.”  His response was an arm-flinging “YAY!”  His hug nearly choked me.  It seemed to ease the stress of the past couple of hours…the breaking up of sibling squabbles, preparing dinner, preparing for tomorrow, and a host of other tasks.

While turning down the lights in his room, I could hear something coming from my daughter’s bathroom.  She had told me a few minutes before that she was headed to the shower.  As I drew nearer, I could hear her sweet 11-year-old singing voice coming from the other side of the door, “Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection…the lovers, the dreamers, and me.”

Many of you know that Kermit the Frog is one of my favorite sources of quotes.  And “The Rainbow Connection” is certainly one of my all-time favorite songs.  I guess I just got a preview of what’s on tap for her upcoming choir concert.  As much as the past couple of hours seemed to stress me a bit, those two moments in time relieved it all.

It seems that the world of single adults is expanding somewhat.  I remember sitting in my judgmental seat growing up thinking what a shame it was to be divorced…and glad I’d never let it happen to me.  Yet God and time seemed to have something different in mind.  I’ve always heard, “if you have a plan, be sure to share it with God so He can have a good laugh.”  I knew that from experience on lighter subjects…but on the subject of matrimony?  That was a little too close to the heart.  But, as I’ve gone down this trail, I’ve met some really great people – male and female – and have grown a tremendous amount in the process.

Two of those friends just today told me of relationships ending.  One seemed to handle it pretty well – the other echoed a sentiment I’ve heard time and again:  “What is wrong with me?  What am I doing wrong?”

You know, this sentiment applies in every part of our lives – not just on the relationship side.  Whether it be career, financial, spiritual, personal, love, or whatever…people tend to want to blame themselves for what often has nothing to do with them.

Lately, I’ve been overusing a reference to the time when the Apostle Peter walked on water.  I’m referencing the story as it’s told in Matthew 14:22-33.  As the story goes, upon the miraculous feeding of the masses, Jesus went upon the mountainside to pray.  He had sent the disciples who were with Him on out ahead of Him in their boat…and by the time He had finished praying, the boat had been pushed out a considerable distance because of turbulence in the sea.  At this point, late in the night, Jesus began walking across the water to the boat.  When the disciples saw this, they were terrified, believing it to be a ghost.  Jesus told them it was Him and encouraged them not to be afraid.  Peter challenged back, “Lord if it is you, tell me to come to you on the water.”  Obviously, Jesus told Peter to come and as he got out of the boat, Peter began walking on water as well.  But when that instant of euphoria wore off, Peter realized what was going on and saw the wind whipping the waves around him as they had been all night.  He became afraid again and began to sink…as he sank, he cried, “Lord, save me!”

My metaphor with Peter is pretty obvious…when he focused where he should, that is to say, on Christ, he did fine.  When he started internalizing things, though…and believing that he needed to save himself…what happened?  Simple…he sank.

How often in our lives do we “take control” because we don’t have faith in others?  And how often, when things begin to go wrong, do we believe the worst is going to happen?  Henry Ford is often quoted as saying, “Believe you can or believe you can’t, either way you’ll be right.”  I think this story from the Gospel certainly underlines that point…but it takes a belief that God’s got everything under control – not us.

This way of thinking is new for me…new being defined as the past couple of years or so.  I had grown up hearing about “turn everything over” and “let go, let God”.  All were nice little anecdotes that really had no power with me because I didn’t understand it.  But the moment I finally realized that this life is much greater than me – that’s when I started understanding just how to let go.  Friends and family will attest that I truly have little worry about my tomorrows.

Today is all we have…actually…NOW is all we have.  The instant I post this blog, my life could end.  The instant you read this line, so could yours.  “Plan” for tomorrow?  Sure…absolutely.  But worry about it?  Why take away from the only now you’ll ever get?

As to that rainbow connection – someday I’ll find it…I have faith.  For now, I’ve got Captain Underpants, Kermit, and the Apostle Peter to balance – and I’m just fine with that.

Blessings to you all

Tim

It’s a rhetorical question obviously – but how often have you wondered why bad things occur?  Why did God let this happen?  Where is He?  Does He really even exist?  I think it’s more common than any of us like to admit – and we might just have a glimmer that even Christ wondered the same thing once…but more on that later.

Some of you likely remember something made popular when I was a teen.  It seemed everywhere you turned, you could find something with Mary Stevenson’s infamous “Footprints in the Sand” poem.  As the story goes, the narrator dreams about walking along this historical timeline of life that is represented by a beach accompanied by the Lord.  The dreamer notes that there are two sets of footprints for most of the path, but on some really tough occasions in the dreamer’s life, there was only one set of footprints.  Wondering where God was during those moments, the dreamer asks why.  The response is simple.  “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”

This morning, one of our associate pastors, Craig Pierce challenged this very human way of thinking by asking us to consider for a moment that God shows up every time, and perhaps WE are the ones who miss it.  The story unfolded in the story of the Roman Centurion who oversaw Jesus’ crucifixion.  It’s interesting to develop who this Centurion was a bit…and I’m going with a light version.  If you can, find a copy of the 1977 TV miniseries “Jesus of Nazareth” and watch towards the end where Ernest Borgnine plays the role as the Centurion.

A centurion was one of the most trusted of Caesar’s army.  As the name implies, they led 100 men.  One particularly trusted centurion was assigned to Jerusalem, a territory with a religious uprising…and a territory not particularly loyal to Rome.  Caesar needed an army there…and a leader there that could help the governor Pontius Pilate get a better handle on the people.

Crucifixions were somewhat commonplace for the centurion and his guards.  Disorderly folks were made an example to try to quiet any uprisings, etc.  When Pilate washed his hands of Jesus’ death – turning the blame back to the masses who called for the notorious prisoner, Barabbas to be released and begged for Jesus to be put to death – the frenzy was probably a bit comical to this Centurion and his guards…after all, they’d seen everything.  So what did they do?  They egged it on a bit more.  The soldiers stripped Jesus down, and put a scarlet robe on him to mock his king-ship.  Then, as the story goes, they twisted a crown of thorns to jam on his head and mocked him saying, “Hail to the king of the Jews!” – spitting on him and hitting him on the head a few times, just to make that crown feel even worse.

If that imagery isn’t bad enough – have you ever stopped to think…what would’ve happened if today’s technology existed back then?  Can you imagine if this stuff had been posted all over Facebook and YouTube?

Anyway, the story is shorter than I’m presenting – but if you’d like it by Matthew’s account, look in Matthew 27.  In verse 45, we learn that God brought about a great darkness over the land during the middle of the day.  Many scientific explanations have been offered, and many theologians have reasoned as to why such a thing may have occurred.  Many theologians say it fulfilled a prophecy in Amos 8:9.  One definition I like most was quoted by Craig this morning (I didn’t catch the source of this quote in my notes):  Perhaps the reason God darkened the earth in those last hours when Jesus took on the iniquities of all of humanity was as simple as this – maybe the moment was so sacred for God that He couldn’t bear for the world to see it.  Or perhaps, we couldn’t handle seeing such a thing.

And then it happened…even Jesus uttered what I eluded to earlier…in verse 46, “My God…MY GOD…why have you forsaken me.”  Where was God?

On that, bystanders stood breathless watching…knowing He’d called upon God – they thought they might be witnessing God save His son.  But after another loud squelch from Jesus hanging on that cross, he died.

Obviously, the story doesn’t end there.  At that precise moment, the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.  The earth quaked mightily.  Rocks split.  Tombs broke open and holy people were raised to life and ascended after Jesus’ resurrection.  At the height of its intensity, the Centurion exclaimed, “Surely he was the Son of God!”  That’s right…the Centurion who had led his men to embarrass Jesus, spat and mocked Him, and was in charge of putting Him to death, became the first convert to believe in Christ after His death.

The Centurion may have been the first to see what everybody had missed.  People wanted to see this “God” swoop down and scoop up His Son.  They were disappointed to see Him die…further pushing down this movement that had developed surrounding Jesus’ ministry.  But the Centurion had a different perspective.

See…during crucifixions, the guilty party hanging on the cross would be mocked horribly just as Jesus was.  It was typical that the guilty would return insult for insult, spit for spit, and curse for curse.  But the Centurion’s first picture that Jesus was different was the mercy He showed for His accusers when He said prayerfully to the heavens, “Father, please forgive them – they do not know what it is they’re doing.”  Second, the Centurion saw just how compassionate Jesus was.  Hanging in pain – it wasn’t just the nails in the wrist and feet folks, scholars talk about how the whole body just sinks on the cross, wilting under its own weight from the skeletal frame – Jesus took the time to show compassion.  Typically, when the pain really started setting in, the guilty would beg and plead for mercy, promise not to repeat offenses, etc.  Not Jesus…He showed compassion not only to those hurling insults at Him, or for those hanging next to Him, but also to His own mother and brother – when in John 19:26-27 He said, “Dear woman, here is your son,” and to His brother/disciple “Here is your mother.”  It was a call for the two to stay close to each other and be there for each other in the coming days, weeks, months, and years…to be family.  And then, the Centurion obviously witnessed just how much power God really has – what with the earthquakes, the darkened skies, the rocks splitting in two, and old tombs opening up…at that point, the Centurion became a believer.

In Borgnine’s autobiography, he talks about shooting the scene where he looks up to the cross in amazement to deliver that infamous line about Jesus truly being the Son of God:

Then it happened.

As I stared upward, instead of a chalk mark, I suddenly saw the face of Jesus Christ, lifelike and clear. It was not the features of Robert Powell I was used to seeing, but the most beautiful, gentle visage I have ever known. Pain-seared, sweat-stained, with blood flowing down from the thorns pressed deep, His face was still filled with compassion. He looked down at me through tragic, sorrowful eyes with an expression of love beyond description.

Then His cry rose against the desert wind. Not the voice of Zeffirelli, reading from the Bible, but the voice of Jesus Himself: “Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit.”

In awe I watched Jesus’ head slump to one side. I knew He was dead. A terrible grief welled within me, and completely oblivious of the camera, I started sobbing uncontrollably.

“Cut!” yelled Zeffirelli. Olivia Hussey and Anne Bancroft were crying too. I wiped my eyes and looked up again to where I had seen Jesus – He was gone.

Whether I saw a vision of Jesus that windswept day or whether it was only something in my mind, I do not know. It doesn’t matter. For I do know that it was a profound spiritual experience and that I have not been quite the same person since. I believe that I take my faith seriously. I like to think that I’m more forgiving than I used to be. As that centurion learned two thousand years ago, I too have found that you simply cannot come close to Jesus without being changed.

What a great quote – “you simply cannot come close to Jesus without being changed.”  If you’re out there wondering where God is today, try coming close to Jesus…you’ll be changed.

 

Father, forgive me…for there are so many times that I simply don’t know what I’m doing.

 

Blessings to you all

Tim

Hi gang;

It’s certainly been a while…and as with every new day, change is upon us. I hope the new year has been good to all of you. I’m 10 pounds down from my starting point this year, so all in all, I’m feeling quite happy…just 50 more pounds to go. 😉

As most of you know, the inspiration to write for me has typically been pretty easy. The past few months, though, have been really difficult to weed through. It’s been like a bit of quicksand. I moved recently from the house my children were born and raised in – so that is probably partly to blame for my lack of creative productivity. Nonetheless, I’ve felt somewhat mired in a funk.

In that funk, I’ve noted that much of my hustle and bustle, and the changing all my life’s routines, has left me perhaps a little crabbier, shorter with my kids, and at times, completely alone to my thoughts. Most of you know that throughout our separation and divorce, Scottie and I lived next door to each other – so the kids were always accessible. This has been quite an adjustment for all of us, but, funny thing is…the kids seem to be doing MUCH better than my pessimistic side would allow me to believe. And at a point of reflection this week, I realized that much of my “funk” was self-imposed – which only served to blow a few months by me that I’ll never get back…time with my kiddos that will never be replaced. Alas, I’ve learned yet another valuable lesson.

The other day, the kids and I were out running an errand and my 7-year old son asked me how old I was. “Forty-two, son,” I replied. His answer? “Wow dad, you’re not even halfway to dead yet.” As his sister and I began to poke around at his logic, I was reminded of a time when I was his age and thought that we all lived to 100. I thought then that might be an interesting topic to write about but the thought faded and my new routines took over. Until today, that is.

Three o’clock on Friday afternoons are typically when the brain-fry sets in – another week in the books, 2 hours left unless the boss leaves early, I can get home early maybe and play with the kids a bit. I was introduced to yet another musical toy for my phone, Pandora radio. I know most of you are rolling your eyes wondering just how far behind a person can be…but…I’m now in the Pandora craze. So I had my earphones in listening to Pandora which matches songs based on your musical tastes. And right as my mind slipped into that 3 o’clock checkout, the band Five for Fighting’s song “100 years” came on. As you read the lyrics at the end of this email, you’ll understand why I was fighting back watery eyes as this beautiful little ballad played along. I know some of the words, and understand some of the meaning. But I couldn’t help but think about my kiddos and how badly I want to wrap them up and let them know how important it is to hold on to their dreams and never stop chasing them.

There are many definitions of this song online – many people with many interpretations. All of them center around the feeling that the character in the song starts at 15 with ideals of love, by 22 he meets her and falls in love, by 33 they’re having a family, by 45 he’s in his mid-life crisis, by 67 he realizes the sun is setting, and by 99 he still clings to the same ideal he had when he was 15. Some rationalize that his wife has since died and he just longs to be with her again…and ends the song with that same wish he had at 15.

I realized today, as I have in days past, I’m 42 for a moment. My kids are 7 and 11…only for a moment. My daughter is already text messaging…soon I’ll be scaring boys off the front porch and dealing with fatherly things I’m not ready for. My son…he reads so much better now than he did a couple of years ago when he refused to read. He isn’t nearly as infatuated with dinosaurs as he once was. He’s in a challenging math class at his school…and thankfully, he still thinks girls have cooties. But they’ve both changed so much. The old adage, “they grow up so fast” is no longer lost on me. The longest of work-weeks could never replace the moments of time I’m missing with my kids.

We adults tend to want to slow our kids’ roll a bit. They all want to be bigger than they are, it seems…and we want them to grasp the idea that they’re “15 – there’s still time for you.”

I must admit too, when Ward said I wasn’t halfway through with life, his sister and I both corrected him and told him that not everybody lives to 100. (I personally think it’s the fact that there’s so much emphasis on counting to 100 when you’re young, that this MUST be where our common line of thinking stems from! Ha!). In my mind, I began thinking…I was 19 when dad died. Under that model, I could be gone 8 years from now, or 12 years from now – depending on which of my kids ages I added from. Then again, Dad was 55 so I’ve got a little over 13 years on that scale. With those thoughts in my head, I got my physical and started doing something about this not-so-healthy body. There were no epiphanies really…no new year’s resolutions…none of that. The fact that I was frankly tired of the old me and, in this recent process of change thought I should add one more change to the mix…that being my overall physical health. I’ve worked on my spiritual health, fiscal health, mental health, and emotional health for quite some time now…and I’m feeling very good in those categories. But some changes are easier than others – I’m sure you can all attest.

42 and there’s still time for me.

Some of you have seen that one of my favorite Bible verses is Matthew 17:20: “He replied, “Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.”

Things that have long seemed impossible shouldn’t be as long as we have faith. Faith in a higher power (mine is God and the redeeming power of His son, Jesus). We must also have Faith in ourselves. And finally, we truly must have Faith in our dreams and aspirations. Once we believe in this triumvirate, we are unstoppable.

How about you? However old you are – there’s still time for you. Ask my mom…

Be blessed…each and every one of you!

Tim

****

Five for Fighting – “100 years”

I’m 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I’m just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

I’m 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we’re on fire
Making our way back from Mars

15 there’s still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

I’m 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I’m a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind

I’m 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I’m heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life

15 there’s still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star

15 I’m all right with you
15, there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We’re moving on…

I’m 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I’m just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

15 there’s still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day’s a new day…

15 there’s still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

Howdy everybody;

Been a little bit since I had the time to sit down and collect my thoughts long enough to put them down on the PC parchment, and tonight really is no different. I’ve come across so many in recent days that are hurting for one reason or another that I wanted to post a quick comment of hope.

A few years ago, a dear friend pointed out the very poignant beginning of Scott Peck’s classic self-help book titled “The Road Less Traveled” (not to be confused with my all-time favorite poem by Robert Frost called “The Road not Taken”). The first three words of the book…simply, “Life is difficult.”

Ain’t that the truth.

Is it any wonder that Christ talked about having a childlike faith in order to reach heaven’s gates?  You know…think about what that really means…journey with me for a minute and see if it comes into clearer focus for you. The idea of childlike faith immediately conjures up images of looking outside for Santa Clause, wondering when the Easter Bunny is coming, or wondering exactly how the Tooth Fairy works. But to stop there is to leave so much undiscovered.

What about when life turns difficult?  Children, like the rest of us, lose those beliefs in things like Santa – regardless how strongly we fight it. Their perfect world becomes tarnished – sometimes slowly, and other times so quickly we wish we knew the secret of turning back time.

It continues to happen once we become adults. Think about those who dreamt of the perfect marriage?  Or those who dreamt of happy healthy families only to be challenged with something they never imagined?  Or those maimed in inexplicable accidents?  Those whose life just very plainly turned out far different than they’d ever imagined?

So what is childlike faith?  It is a continued wonder and awe at exactly what Christ did for us…what God did for us by sending His Son to pave a way for our eternal happiness. It is a complete denial to the forces against our happiness. It is looking at every moment in life as exciting…even when our complacency and cynicism might just overpower us into laziness and apathy. It is a continual pursuit of holiness regardless of those inevitable difficult setbacks.

Does it make life any less difficult?  Probably not. Does it make it much more manageable?  I sure think so.

I’ve often written of choice in our lives. I am a result of the choices I’ve made in my life. Period. There’s no sense in dwelling on that. It is what it is. So many try to find blame that they can cast on themselves – from perfectionists who do it as a means of self-motivation to pity-party-connoisseurs who love nothing more than to grab attention from anyone they can all for the sake of attention. Is that childlike faith?  No…no way. Let me put it a different way and this is addressed specifically to those of you reading this who consider yourselves Christians (with all due respect to those of you who believe otherwise): Would anyone looking at you while you cast blame on yourselves really see that as a great lifestyle to follow?  Would that attract those onlookers to this faith you proclaim?  I’m actually chuckling at this…out of guilt. I know the pity parties in my past detracted from my walk of faith…I can’t imagine how many lives I must’ve adversely affected when it came to casting a good image for the face of God.

Childlike faith is simple…forget all you know. The cynics who say “I’m just a realist” – get over yourselves. Now. The pity partiers – drop it. Now. Is this a part of life any of us love?  I guess maybe a few out there really prefer having their needs met in this way…to me it just sounds like a drag. I can’t believe a loving, graceful God would put us here to experience life in this way. In fact…I don’t believe it…I refuse to.

Do I think life isn’t supposed to be difficult?  Of course it is…it’s what makes life life. We all figure out Santa is a hoax…yet as an adult I grab my childhood every year I can to make my kids believe it “one more time.” (You should see the lengths I went through last year!)

It’s the choice (again, there’s that word); the conscious decision we all make as to how we will view and live through those experiences. This is that “marrow of life” we all get to taste. This is what makes that story we tell at the end of the path not taken so good…so unbelievable. We look back, somewhere down the road, offer ourselves a pat on the back and say, “Wow, I can’t believe I made it through that.”

So at the beginning I promised hope buried in this email. I was sitting here tonight with thoughts jumping around of what I’d want to say on this subject when Christian recording artist, Jeremy Camp’s “There will be a day” came on my iTunes. The lyrics sum up best what my hope is. Sure, I hope to be, as Zig Ziglar always said, “happy, healthy, and reasonably prosperous” and I hope for the same for my kiddos. But on a grander scale, I hope for the day when there will be no more tears, no more pain, and no more fears. A day is coming with no more suffering…a day when the burdens of this sometimes-difficult life will fall away and be replaced by something the child in every one of us could call nothing other than heaven.

God bless you all,

Tim

 

***

Lyrics to Jeremy Camp’s “There will be a day”

I try to hold on to this world with everything I have
But I feel the weight of what it brings, and the hurt that tries to grab
The many trials that seem to never end, His word declares this truth
That we will enter in this rest with wonders anew

But I hold on to this hope and the promise that He brings
That there will be a place with no more suffering

There will be a day with no more tears
No more pain, and no more fears
There will be a day when the burdens of this place
Will be no more, we’ll see Jesus face to face
But until that day, we’ll hold on to you always

I know the journey seems so long
You feel you’re walking on your own
But there has never been a step
Where you’ve walked out all alone

Troubled soul don’t lose your heart
Cause joy and peace he brings
And the beauty that’s in store
Outweighs the hurt of life’s sting

But I hold on to this hope and the promise that He brings
That there will be a place with no more suffering

There will be a day with no more tears
No more pain, and no more fears
There will be a day when the burdens of this place
Will be no more, we’ll see Jesus face to face
But until that day, we’ll hold on to you always

I can’t wait until that day where the very one
I’ve lived for always will wipe away the sorrow that I’ve faced
To touch the scars that rescued me from a life of shame and misery
O, this is why, this is why I sing

There will be a day with no more tears
No more pain, and no more fears
There will be a day when the burdens of this place
Will be no more, we’ll see Jesus face to face

There will be a day with no more tears
No more pain, and no more fears
There will be a day when the burdens of this place
Will be no more, we’ll see Jesus face to face

There will be a day he will wipe away the tears
He will wipe away the tears
He will wipe away the tears
There will be a day

 

Greetings friends!  At this hour in my little town outside of Dallas, it is still a sweltering 94 degrees outside after reaching another 100+ degree day, a stretch that has gone on uninterrupted for over a month now.  So – along with my greetings, I hope you all are staying cool.

It’s been a couple of months since I’ve written, mostly because any topic that has come to mind has almost seemed too big to put into words.  I still feel that way while I sit here to compose this note, but I am determined to at least poke through these words jumping around in my head and hope to make the best sense possible out of it.  Tonight I want to address the power of choice in our lives.  As Americans, we always like to talk about our freedoms – and those freedoms are typically filled with choices.

Choice invokes so many dimensions in our lives – time, love, spirituality, family, self, etc.  For some people, choices are paralyzing.  For others, choices are the spice of life.  We see people all around us who seem to routinely make poor decisions when presented with choices…perhaps in one or all of those dimensions.  We also see folks who seem to have the Midas touch – with every choice they make turning into the proverbial gold.  And somewhere in that spectrum – from zero to hero – we find ourselves a product of the decisions we’ve made in our own lives…a product of our daily choices to act/not act, to be/not be, to have/not have, to do/not do.  When our introspection leads us to the conclusion that we’re not exactly where we hoped to be, we then question our ability to make good decisions when presented with all those choices…and this, my dear friends, is a sad waste of time.

The 19th century minister and author, Henry Van Dyke, once wrote: “Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.”

Think about each one of those phrases.  How long have you waited for things to turn your direction – only to find day after day, month after month, and year after year passing you by while you continue to sit wondering the same thing?  On the other hand, how quickly have things you feared manifested into reality almost immediately – the anxiety of such moments building into sheer panic before the reality sets in?

A dear friend of mine on Facebook posted a sweet note about the loss of her father this week.  That brought back my own grief from my own experiences…some 23 years later after my own father passed.  Lara undoubtedly loved, and continues to love her father as I do mine…but there’s no doubt that time is way too long for those of us who grieve.

Too short for those who rejoice?  How often do you find yourself waiting “for the other shoe to fall” because things seem to be going too well?  Is that any way to rejoice?

What if somebody told you one day that you could choose to experience things differently?  Would you say, “Great, another choice…” – or would you be interested?  A few years ago I stumbled across an idea that had been planted in me since early childhood…but it was disguised to me until recent months.  Many of you will remember the craze behind the book “The Secret” (stop rolling your eyes).  There was another book I read by the recommendation of one of you called “The 4 Agreements”.  Both of these, and many other books sold in self-help shelves around the bookstores of America push the idea of people taking control of their choices.  And in taking control of those choices, people could actually impact their experiences.

Friends, I’ve got news for you…this stuff isn’t new.  No author of the past century found some fancy new realization…no “secrets” have been revealed that suddenly hand us the key of life.  Even the Bible has it in several passages about “reaping what we sow” (Galatians 6:7, Job 4:8, Hosea 10:13, 2 Corinthians 9:6, etc).  I list so many references to say that no single human author of any of the books of the Bible can lay claim to this concept.  THIS IS LIFE – this is the way things work.

It is about no longer waiting for things to turn your direction, but looking at everything as if the tide has already changed.  It is about no longer living in fear – but instead living in confidence that things are going to be okay and living in the moment.  It is about grieving for a healthy period of time, but then rejoicing for that thing or person that entered your life for the time, love, and lessons it provided you while it was in your presence.

Most of all, it is about what Van Dyke said in the last phrase of his comment…finding that timeless eternity of love.

If you want to be happy…choose it.
If you want to be successful…choose it.
If you want to be loved…choose it.
If you want to be free – free from pain, worry, fear, etc., yes…even those monsters…choose it.

Am I enough of a child that I believe I can live the rest of my life without pain, worry, fear, etc?  No, probably not.  Emotions are a part of life…but all of us CAN CHOOSE to manage those emotions.  So my choice now when I face any of those demons is to look at them as learning experiences.  And I’ve noticed that the faster I can turn my thoughts to managing those emotions, the faster I get to my own personal happiness.

I was asked at the office the other day why I was so happy…simple…I choose happiness.  And for those who know me, you know I’ve had a rough few years – but you know what?  So have all of you…so has everybody on earth.  I can always find as many folks who’ve had worse times as I can folks who’ve had better times.  It’s the reality of the old saying “we all have our crosses to bear.” People analyze their personal situations every day – sometimes with relativity to those they know or read about, sometimes with relativity to personal goals, sometimes with relativity to experiences in their own lives, etc.

Take it from the guy whose brother gifted him a flashy ceramic pencil-holder that says “my spreadsheets kick ass” (an obvious knock to my expertise in being overly analytical), it’s a whole heck of a lot easier to just choose to be happy – a lesson I’ve learned from a couple of really great siblings and their spouses…as well as having learned it from some really great friends in my life.

I can tell you with certainty that for me personally, I’d rather spend my time on the timeless eternity of love than have pain, worry, and fear.

How about you?

God bless you all
Tim

Hello all, and Happy Memorial Day weekend!  I hope you are all enjoying the chance to recharge your batteries.   It’s been a while since I have taken the time to sit down and write – although the thoughts have been on paper for quite a while.   The glue came together this week, as our family celebrated my son’s successful completion of first grade and my daughter’s graduation from Lower School (4^th grade).

The Lower School puts on a very formal graduation, practically filling the varsity gym at the school with parents, grandparents, faculty, and all the students from the rest of lower school.   Pre-K through 3^rd grade each performed a song at the graduation, while selected 4^th grade students read leadership essays and others provided some memories of each grade.   It was actually a great ceremony – and I’ll tell you honestly, I listened more to my daughter’s 4^th grade graduation than I did at any graduation ceremony I’d ever attended – even my own.

There were two masters of ceremony, one of which was a former player on the girls soccer team I coached a couple of years ago.   For any of you who’ve taken on the responsibility of coaching kiddos, you know how rewarding it can be…and you can all imagine how mind-riddling it can be when 14 girls whose voices are so high-pitched, so sweet, and yet so demanding, all begin simultaneously asking about 2 minutes before the start of the game, “Coach Tim, Can I be Captain?  Coach Tim, Can I be Captain?  Coach Tim?  COACH?!?!” As Lara directed the ceremony on Thursday with her fellow-MC, I couldn’t help but sit there and have my own memory trip of the past few years.

It’s funny really, the position of “Captain” in 2^nd and 3^rd grade YMCA Soccer is nothing more than ceremonial.   The sole responsibility of the captain is to stand at the center of the field with the other team’s captain and talk about who gets the kickoff and which side a team is going to stand…all at the direction, ultimately, of the coach.   But there’s something about that honor that compels each player to be that captain – it’s the “first victory” (and sometimes only victory) of the day.

Similarly in life, we all are ceremonial captains of a life we’ve been provided to live.   But who, or what, is our coach?  Where is that overriding direction?  And does adhering to that direction guarantee a victory?  The first two questions are really up to you – each of us has our own drum.   The last question I think can be answered more generically.   Adhering to a direction…or better, our personal truths about ourselves, doesn’t always produce “victory” if such victory is decided by a winning score on any of life’s scoreboards.   But, if you define victory more broadly…the idea of “winning at life” where one can take on life’s inevitable challenges and still come out with his/her sanity (or better), I think then you have a definition of victory.

This past week, the Dallas Mavericks (a professional basketball team here in Dallas – for those of you who don’t follow) beat their opponent to win the Western Conference for only the 2^nd time in the team’s history.   The last time it happened, the team got caught up in the euphoria of finally winning the chance to play in the NBA Finals.   After going up on their opponent with a 2 games to none lead in a best of 7 series, the Mavericks lost 4 straight and watched their opponent celebrate what seemed so within reach just a few days before.   As part of that “lesson learned”, you didn’t see an overwhelming celebration by the players after the victory this past week.   In fact, much has been made about the team’s star player walking away from the festivities to disappear back into the locker-room.   The last thing he wanted was to feel like he’d accomplished anything – after all, the team’s ultimate goal is the entire championship.   Pundits say that if you “respect the game, it’ll come back to you.”  If anything, folks could argue the Mavericks lived up to that line this year.

Why throw this in?  Simple…life works the same way.   If you play it with respect, it will come back to you.   If you abuse it, you’ll be paid back with abuse.   If you fail to take your calculated chances, those chances won’t roll your way as often.   But always, if you play it with respect – you can count on life, regardless of who your “coach” is, to pay back to you whatever you put into it.   The Bible says “whatever a man sows, that shall he also reap.”  This is not an uncommon logic – but too often, it’s not well-followed.

Interestingly, the head of lower school, in his departing speech at graduation charged his graduating class of 4^th graders to continue on the trajectory they had begun in lower school.   One line Michael Simpson said stuck out to me more than any other – and I reiterated later that night to my own daughter.   He said, “Your success is up to you.”  This sounds awfully familiar to all that stuff above, doesn’t it?

So friends, take care to figure out who’s coaching…really coaching your life.   Are you “staying true” to your own truths or are you allowing yourself to be whipped in the winds of other peoples’ words and actions?  Don’t let temporary defeats and setbacks take your focus away – after all, it is all a part of life.   Sow a respect for life, reap a life worth living; sow any less than that, reap a life of regret and shoulda-woulda-couldas.

I forget which grade performed it, but I remember almost being emotional when one of the grades performed the Beatles’ “With a Little Help From My Friends.” Each of you who reads this note has provided some sort of help along the way, and I am truly grateful for your presence in my life.   I have not always sown things with respect – but have tried very hard in recent years to do a much better job of that.   Your friendships have blessed me in such a way, that I know all these words to be true…and I wouldn’t be where I am today had I not had the help of my friends.

God bless you all,

Tim

***

The Beatles’ With a Little Help From My Friends

What would you think if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me.
Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song,
And I’ll try not to sing out of key.
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends,
Mmm,I get high with a little help from my friends,
Mmm, I’m gonna try with a little help from my friends.

Do you need anybody?
I need somebody to love.
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love.

What do I do when my love is away.
(Does it worry you to be alone)
How do I feel by the end of the day
(Are you sad because you’re on your own)
No, I get by with a little help from my friends,
Mmm, get high with a little help from my friends,
Mmm, gonna to try with a little help from my friends

Do you need anybody?
I need somebody to love.
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love.

Would you believe in a love at first sight?
Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time.
What do you see when you turn out the light?
I can’t tell you, but I know it’s mine.
Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends,
Mmm I get high with a little help from my friends,
Oh, I’m gonna try with a little help from my friends

Do you need anybody?
I just need someone to love.
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends,
Mmm, gonna try with a little help from my friends
Ooh, I get high with a little help from my friends
Yes I get by with a little help from my friends,
with a little help from my friends

Hi folks.

This will be short and to the point.  For years now I’ve written all of you about my different mood swings and whatever song had resonated with me on any given week.  Tonight, I fight anger in the midst of somber reality.

Many of you know I prefer not to expose myself to the news very often.  The “downer” of so many things going on around us is not the space I care to live in.  I prefer continuing to strive for my dreams without the harsh realities all around.  Tonight I finally decided to read about this troubled man who many of you have already heard and read about (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/40997616/ns/us_news-crime_and_courts/?GT1=43001).  As Senator McConnell put it, this troubled individual tried to attack our democracy at its core by brutally murdering/maiming several people during what was to be an exchange of political ideas with her constituents.  In the line of fire, a 9 year old girl was fatally wounded – her claim to fame was having been featured in a book of children born on 9/11/2001.  She was attending the morning event (away from school) because of her interest in government.

But what troubled me in this article more than anything was the concluding comment:
***
“Meanwhile, the leader of Westboro Baptist Church, an anti-gay Kansas-based church best known for picketing the funerals of slain U.S.  soldiers and gay-pride gatherings, said its members will picket the funerals of the 9-year-old girl and five others killed in Saturday’s attack.  In a video, Fred Phelps says God sent the shooter to avenge the nation’s sins.

“Thank God for the violent shooter,” Phelps proclaims.

“We will remind the living that you can still repent and obey.  This is ultimatum time with God.”

***

Friends and family, I’m tired of this person’s perversion of the gospel.  I shared with some of you a month ago as this man so boldly called his family and worshippers (most of whom are family) to picket the funeral of Elizabeth Edwards (the late former wife of former Senator John Edwards) that something had to be done about this man.

Well, a month has come and gone and I’ve done nothing.  Now I hope to stir all of you into action…and I intend to take action as well.

I’ve done some research on this “church” and have found that it is not a member of any known affiliation of churches.  They call themselves an “independent” Baptist Church but, to date, none of the independent church systems show Westboro Baptist as a “member church.” The same is true for the Calvinist and Primitive Baptist church systems that WBC claims to pattern themselves after.  In fact, those organizations both vehemently reject both Phelps and his “church”.

Friends…what seems to give this man his energy is the attention.  Every major news outlet seems to cover him.  Political pot-stirrers like O’Reilly dog him on air, and Michael Moore has made a movie including some of the nutty stuff this guy does.  And what happens?  He does it more!

It’s time to stop paying attention to him.  It’s time these news organizations stopped covering him and his antics.  It’s time we turn off the power-feed this guy gets every time he calls in to say his church is gonna show up somewhere to picket something, that telephone line needs to get disconnected.  Forget faith for a moment, we as AMERICANS need to put this guy out to pasture, and the only way I can think of right now is for all of us to email the news outlets and tell them to just flat stop.  We need a nationwide flood of emails to every news organization that says to go deaf every time Phelps or one of his members calls in to say where they’re headed next.  And when he shows up, we need to do what the college in Wisconsin did…we show up in the thousands to tell them to pack up and go home (he had a 2 hour picket planned that his folks ran and hid from after only a few minutes).

Here are some email addresses to get you started:

for Fox News, email newsmanager@foxnews.com

for NBC, use this page to copy and paste your comments: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/10285339

for ABC, use this page to copy and paste your comments: http://abcnews.go.com/Site/page?id=3271346&cat=ABC%20News%20Other

for CBS, use this page to copy and paste your comments: http://www.cbsnews.com/htdocs/feedback/fb_news_form.shtml?tag=ftr

for CNN, use this page to copy and paste your comments: http://www.cnn.com/feedback/tips/newstips.html

and for the Associated Press, email info@ap.org and put it to the attention of Jerry Schwartz, Editor

Please know, I understand that one of the great things about this country is our ability to express ourselves freely, and this man and his followers are doing just that.  Even our own Supreme Court has wrestled with just how to handle this man and his actions.  But just as he has free speech, we also have our own mechanisms with which we can choose to shut him down…and this, to this point, is the only peaceful way I’ve been able to come up with.  Obviously, many of you are smarter than me…if there are better ideas, please share.  But folks, let’s take some action.  Let’s stop sitting down angry when we read of this man and his stories…and let’s take action…TONIGHT!

And as far as the faith issue that I delayed commenting on earlier…I don’t particularly believe that any one of us has a monopoly on understanding the Word of God.  Nor do I believe that any one of us has a monopoly on understanding God’s actions from time to time.  What I believe is simple, I’m here to plant seeds and let God farm the rest…that’s a fairly simple task.  Any *man* that has the audacity to say in a presumed authoritative way that these awful things are happening from one minute to the next because God’s wrath is at hand is just plain nutty to me.  Let’s do what we can to tune him out…and asking the news organizations to help us with that certainly seems like a good first step to me.

God bless all of you.

Tim

Hi everyone;

Has life been crazy or what?  Ha!  It’s been a couple of months since I’ve taken the time to sit and write.  I’ve had plenty of small inspirations along the way but, well, I guess life kinda got in the way.  This morning, though, was a special inspiration for me and I really had to sit down and write this out.  By the way, to the newbies…welcome!  Grab your coffee and get comfy…this may go on a bit.

First off, to all of you…Merry Christmas!  And yes, I know it’s PC to say Happy Holidays; and I certainly hope all my friends of all faiths and walks of life experience a great holiday season – but as a Christian trying to celebrate the birth of one who erases all my darker days, I’m not ashamed to say…MERRY CHRISTMAS!

The holiday season is so much fun.  My kids have ramped up their, “dad can I have (fill in the blank)?” I cringe at commercial breaks on TV now because I know there will be 3-4 requests for stuff…heck, I’ve turned it into a joke around this house.  A month or so ago I finally watched “Four Christmases” – what a great show.  It was about the rush at holiday season…the hustle and bustle of getting to every family’s celebration, the reunion with family, and most of all, the way we wear ourselves thin to make everybody happy.  After all, this pretty much sums up the definition of “the holiday season” – doesn’t it?

On my walk this morning, I was touched by yet another old song on my iPod.  Some of you have heard it…some haven’t.  The song, “Does Anybody Hear Her” is by a Christian band called Casting Crowns.  I’ve included the lyrics at the end of this message as usual.  The song is about the folks out there searching for hope…some right under our noses.  Shoot, some of you may be searching for that same hope.  Well friends, I found mine in 7th grade and, while the past few decades have had many detours, “the hope that’s tucked away” in me is in Christ alone.  To quote one of my favorite old Baptist Hyms, “The Solid Rock” – ‘my hope is built on nothing less, than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.’

If “holiday season” is defined by gifts, traffic, shopping, eating, reunions, etc., then how would you define Christmas?

I believe there needs to be more than a moment of silence in remembrance.  In this YouTube link of one of my all-time favorite Amy Grant songs (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T2eKB_fZryY), she prefaces the song with a story about her great-grandmother’s rocking chair and the remembrance of her childhood in the song “If these walls could speak.” I can’t listen to this song without remembering my own childhood…wishing for one minute to rejoin that simpler place in time to play catch with Dad, to shoot all those pretend last-second shots at the basketball goal on my driveway, heck, to just rewind the clock and get a do-over.  As Amy says at the end of this story, “Memory is such a powerful thing.  No wonder Jesus said, ‘When you eat and drink, remember me.’ No wonder the thief on the cross, dying, next to Jesus said, ‘when you get to paradise remember me.'”

Remember another thing, as Jesus wound down his ministry, he told a story of the final days recounted in Matthew 25.  One of my favorite selections is verses 34-40:

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?  When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

I titled this email, “Remember” for one simple reason…as you celebrate the holiday season, remember.  This is not a message of guilt, but of hope.  There are folks everywhere struggling.  For the past few Christmases, except for last Christmas when I failed to participate because I let record snowfall talk me out of it, I’ve served at my old church’s Christmas morning at Austin Street Shelter.  For a couple of years, I was a regular crew member on fourth-Saturdays.  If you’ve never done anything like this, let me encourage you to find a shelter where you can plug in and help out.  I’ll be honest – Christmas was my least favorite day to go…that’s when everybody went – 80-100 folks would go to serve at a shelter that held about 500 – it felt like we overran the place.  By the same token, I was allowing the holiday season to get in the way of Christmas.  Those 4th Saturdays were fun too, though, because instead of 100 people serving 500 people, it was usually just 4 or 5 of us serving that many…you can’t help but be busy.  But what was most striking to me, and always has been, was how many of those folks that came through the line and looked just like me.  Nice jeans, nice sweater, newish looking tennis-shoes, a jacket thrown over the arm, etc.  Homeless aren’t just what we see panhandling on busy traffic corners…there are folks out there who just had some bad turns.  And honestly, when Jesus talked about loving “the least of these” – we are not the judge and jury for who, or what, is “least”.

Remember?

The last shall be first.

If shelters aren’t your thing, I encourage you to find a place to plug in.  There are any number of non-profit organizations in need of volunteers…year-round.

Christmas is about remembering.  In a recent sermon at my church, the minister asked us if we had ever reminisced about how things might have been if this or that had happened.  He then hit us with, “Have you ever thought of what would’ve happened if Jesus had never been born?” Personally, I wonder if this “holiday season” would’ve ever become what it is today.  And, well…obviously…we wouldn’t have Christmas.

God bless you all,
Tim

***
Does Anybody Hear Her (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OEhRucEVzH8)
Casting Crowns

She is running
A hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction
She is trying
But the canyon’s ever widening
In the depths of her cold heart
So she sets out on another misadventure just to find
She’s another two years older
And she’s three more steps behind

Does anybody hear her?  Can anybody see?
Or does anybody even know she’s going down today
Under the shadow of our steeple
With all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that’s tucked away in you and me
Does anybody hear her?  Can anybody see?

She is yearning
For shelter and affection
That she never found at home
She is searching
For a hero to ride in
To ride in and save the day
And in walks her prince charming
And he knows just what to say
Momentary lapse of reason
And she gives herself away

Does anybody hear her?  Can anybody see?
Or does anybody even know she’s going down today
Under the shadow of our steeple
With all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that’s tucked away in you and me
Does anybody hear her?  Can anybody see?

If judgment looms under every steeple
If lofty glances from lofty people
Can’t see past her scarlet letter
And we’ve never even met her

If judgment looms under every steeple
If lofty glances from lofty people
Can’t see past her scarlet letter
And we’ve never even met her

Never even met her
(Never Even Met her)

(OHHHHH)Does anybody hear her?  Does anybody see?
Or does anybody even know she’s going down today
Under the shadow of our steeple
With all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that’s tucked away in you and me

Does anybody hear her?  (Does anybody hear her?) Does anybody see?  (Does anybody See?)
Does anybody even know she’s going down today?
Under the shadow of our steeple (shadow of her steeple)
With all the lost and lonely people (Lost and Lonely people)
Searching for the hope that’s tucked away in you and me
Does anybody hear her?  Does anybody see?

He is running a hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction
***

Hi all;

I’ve sent this to the closest of friends this morning.   The lady I contract for sends these “thoughts for everyday” out every morning…and every once in a while, I find one I really want to share.   This one hits more than any have since I’ve been here probably because of my own recent set of experiences.

Determination:  Life is a series of experiences, each of which makes us bigger, even though it is hard to realize this.  For the world was built to develop character, and we must learn that the setbacks and griefs which we endure help us in our marching onward.—Henry Ford

Aside from the fact that I love most of the quotes attributed to Henry Ford, this one is particularly poignant because of the choice of words he used in getting across his point.   In the first sentence, how many of us have heard different idioms for how failures make us bigger and better?   We learn from our “mistakes”, no?   The reality is, we learn from everything…yet we so often just like to focus our attention on the ones we screwed up.   Why is that?

Funny, it brings to mind one of the greatest golfers in history, Jack Nicklaus.   When I was a kid, I checked out a book or two of his from the library.   They were practically cartoons with simple instructions for everything from lining up a putt to understanding proper golf course etiquette.   Jack talked about visualization long before other sports figures picked up on it.   His chapters were dedicated to proper “shot-making” and a predictable series of steps where the golfer would, in his/her mind imagine (or visualize) the shot about to be attempted…from the club selection, to the stance, to the beginning of the swing, through the swing, and EVEN to the point of watching the ball do exactly as the golfer was planning.   It’s why you saw Jack take so much time between shots…he was doing just this series of steps.

Visualization has been around a long time…most think it’s back to Napoleon Hill’s “Think and Grow Rich”, but I’d argue it’s been around since the beginning of man.   Visualization is nothing new…for some people.   But it is a brand new concept for those of us who get hung up on our past at the most inopportune times.

So what’s the difference?   Why can one person “get it” and another be completely dumbfounded to the concept?   I think that answer lies in the “makeup of the man” – meaning, that person’s personality, which, tying back to Ford’s quote, is shaped primarily of a person’s series of experiences.

All of you on this email know I’m quite open about the fact I’ve been in counseling on and off for several years.   It is this “determination” that Ford speaks of that I so desperately seek.   As with many things in life, the answer is right under my nose…or more fittingly, between my ears.

“We must learn the setbacks and griefs which we endure help us in our marching onward.”

You hear folks talk about someone who’s hung-up on their past…or can’t move on…or, plainly “stuck” because of a particular setback.   I’m interested to know myself why certain heartbreaks are nearly impossible to move on from…what is it that other folks can do to move on while others feel that “affliction” for a much longer period of time.

Could it be determination?   Some will argue that some folks just deal with things differently, etc., and I agree that there’s not one simple black-and-white answer…but those that seem to have it made have certainly dealt with their lives with a greater sense of determination than I’ve had myself.

I’m interested to hear your thoughts, if you care to share.

Hope all of you are well this morning!

Tim

Hi everyone…it’s been a while.

Welcome to those who’ve never read anything from me before…and to those who’ve been encouraging me lately to get back on the horse, thank you.  When I last wrote, it was Memorial Day Weekend…wow, kinda hard for me to believe given that I was on a streak of writing once or twice a month!  I guess I’ve been a little busy…shoot, we all have.

I want to start off by letting you all know what I’m very thankful for…first, doors that have opened thanks to old work relationships that kept regular contact over the years since I left.  Without my current contracting gig, I would be like 10% of the US population out there looking for work.  I’m very thankful that I’m not in that position!  Second, I’m very thankful…and happy to report, that almost 18 months after a divorce, Scottie and I have worked very hard and, to this point, have created a great environment for our kiddos to thrive.  We even came to the point where we could call each other the “best” of something without it being derogatory – by calling each other the best ex!  While some may chuckle, and even I do as well knowing where we came from, we both know that given the game we’re playing now, we’re pretty darn good at it.  I’ll cut off the thankfulness chain (that could go on forever) by saying I’m very thankful to those of you who’ve supported me – whether it’s just sitting back reading these notes, or calling to give me a boost, or whatever…it’s very appreciated and trust that it’s not lost.

Borrowing from my second thank-you, I want to expand on the topic of social acceptance.  Some of you may know that Scottie and I still live next door to each other.  Now, for those about to ask the flood of questions in your minds, here’s my answers: “I could care less”, “it’s awesome for the kids, and for us too!”, “hey, if it’s a problem for my date, then she’ll miss out on a great dude”, “heck yeah it’s too much house, but it’s working for us (meaning the kids and me) and frankly, my decision is about today, not forever.”

Judging by those answers, you probably get the gist of the eyebrow raising questions I get asked when people find out about my situation.  I can assure you, in the not-too-distant past, you would’ve seen me blowing in the wind with everyone’s opinion.  One person could say, “you’ve gotta get out of there…no woman will ever date you living next to your ex…” Poof, the next thing you know, I’m spending thousands, literally, to get the house cleaned, staged, cleaned again, etc.  This was a regular occurrence for me (not just about moving…but about all the reasons you could imagine why doing anything but moving as far as I could away from “her” was next to insanity).  Quite honestly, and very truthfully, it was maddening…not angry/mad…but crazy/mad.

I added it up one time, and Marty could probably vouch if I really asked him nicely too, but I think I spent close to $20,000 in counseling…all to learn one thing…I’ve got one chance at life, and the minutes/hours/days/months/years, etc that I just spent worrying about this or that are gone forever.  And…all the thisses and thats (yes, made-up words) are just not worth the life I’ve gained back by doing two things – having faith in God and believing in myself.

You see, to me we spend so much time pleasing others…we please bosses, employees, and peers all day at work.  We come home to please family.  We teach our family about doing the same in their own daily lives.  We then try to make sure our social circles are pleased.  And, through it all, if there’s a slice of time left…we’ll please ourselves.  What happens?  We run out of time.  We let somebody down…we miss a meeting, we get cranky at our family, we say ‘no’ to a party with friends because we’re spent…and we certainly miss taking care of ourselves.  Folks, the last I checked…burning the candle at both ends does two things…obviously, you eventually get burned.  But if life represents that candle, well, we run out of candle a lot faster.

I’m not condoning egotism.  Nor am I condoning apathy towards all your varying social/work-circles.  What I have become a big fan of recently, is checking in with my gut from time to time to assure that I’m not losing myself…NOT LOSING MYSELF…at the expense of being accepted by others.

Some of you know I recently filed for bankruptcy because of what happened in my business and the ensuing issues it caused personally.  Trust me when I say what I’ve said above, I’ve got two black-eyes when it comes to social acceptance…a divorce and a bankruptcy.  If I listened to the flood of words that have come to me, from “friends”, clients, vendors, debt collectors, or just random acquaintances; trust me, I’d be paying another $20,000 in counseling.  Oh yeah, to some, counseling is another black eye…forgot that one!

If you’re reading this, it’s because you’re doing one of a few things…continuing to support me as I figure out life, possibly seeing some parallels in your own life, or wasting time.  But regardless of your reason, if you’re on this distribution, it’s because I have found great support in you along the way…and again, I’m forever thankful.

I’ll close by saying this…over the past few months, I’ve made some new friends.  In some ways, I see varying degrees of this in all of them.  The thing is, I still see it in myself.  Just like a car needs routine maintenance (let me know if you do, I’m back working with AutoNation and can certainly get you to a good service department!), we all MUST give ourselves a routine checkup.  Emotional ills drive so many physical ailments…you’re killing yourself if you don’t stop for a minute and make sure that you’re emotionally satisfied.  If you’re not, work out a plan to get there.  I assure you that in the process, you will find areas where you are not being true to yourself.  And those things may be scary to work through – trust me…a divorce and bankruptcy later, I’ve been scared to death on several occasions.  But you know what, I’m still alive…still kickin’…still crackin’ jokes…still being “Mr.  Inappropriate”…and most of all, still here to try to be the best dad I can be.

Thanks gang – and God bless,
Tim