Tag: relationships

Finding Home Run Pizza

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Our son recently asked Grandma and Grandpa if we could go to Home Run Pizza.  This restaurant was a staple of our early visits to Bartlesville, OK.  They had a buffet, and basic salad bar, and would make pizza to the specifics of the customer asking.  It was not a huge place, it was not a chain, and the pizza was just what Jacob loved.  We had not gone there in years, so it was fun and nostalgic that he asked if we could go there.  Jacob, being the middle child, does not ask for much, and when he does ask, it is not very loud.

It turns out that Home Run pizza had closed some time ago.  The question really being asked was, ‘can we go somewhere to eat pizza, laugh, enjoy each other’s company, and relive old times’?  Although no one said that exact phrase out loud, the sentiment that pulls us together through history is an unseen, yet urgent, current in the river of our lives. Can we recapture the sepia of our youth?

Friends who shared a weekend at the lake – they never forget what happened, who did what, how much fun it was, the campfires and stories into the night.  Camping trips up into the mountains – do you still remember what you gave up to get what you gained?  We traded comfort for challenge and accomplishment.  The policy at Philmont Scout Ranch is to ‘human sump’ the dinner dishes – basically swirl water in our cooking pot after cooking and then drink that water. The thought of that gross water ruining the taste of dinner will never go away.  Did it get cold at night? A few of us camped by the Great Sand Dunes one January to commemorate Pike’s journey through that area200 years earlier.  We slept with our water bottles so we would have water, and not ice, in the morning.  Did a tent pole break?  My lover had to repair a tent pole with Band-Aids once so we could put the tent up in New Mexico.  A grin unchains my face at the memory of those times.

We all remember once in a lifetime trips; those are understandable.  Paris in July with the sun setting through the Arc de Triomphe?  Amsterdam at the Anne Frank House with on a cool, sunny morning?  The high-speed train (224 km/h – seems fast) between Koln and Paris – we repeat to this day what I said THAT day, ‘wow, this baby HAULS’?  The indescribable power of the water over the Falls at Niagara?  ALL of those memories are indelible – a reference point to take one back in an instant.  Surely you have a stuffed accordion file of these same recollections.

Perhaps you have read or listened to someone describe the approach to filling your life with the “fill this jar with rocks, pebbles, sand, and water” allegory.  Only a few huge rocks fit (God, family, work), then some pebbles fit (friends, outreach, neighbors), sand (hobbies, diet, exercise), top off with water (breathing, storytelling, video games).  Your jar is not truly full until the water has risen to the top.  Listeners are amazed that they can fit so much into their lives when they decide what size rock each thing in their life should be.

A request for Home Run Pizza is a hearkening to the smaller stones of our lives – the ones you pour into the jar AFTER you put the biggest building blocks of your life in.   It calls us to think of the daily joys we share together.  It is not the grandiose, or the majestic, or the life-defining memory.  By its very normalcy, this indeed is the sinew that builds our family, our ties, and our love for each other.  Once we find a point of commonality, our tribe – be it blood relatives or friends – uses that memory as cement or bungee cord or twine or superglue to pull closer and grow stronger.

Our visit was full of enduring traditions; we like sitting in the TV room watching movies that we choose together, having dinner in the dining room, sharing a few gifts.  We did clear new ground for growth – we finally went to the Phillips 66 Museum where grandpa worked for many years.  There is a picture of him with his crew of aviation gas salesman and the planes they flew to reach their customer base.  It is good for the grandkids to see what their people have done.  He is from that generation that will never bring it up, let alone brag about it.

I cannot help but think that when we passed on the opportunity to find a NEW pizza place with the grandparents, we may have missed a chance at a new tradition.  If, per chance, a voice asks about that ‘old pizza place we used to go to’, perhaps we should listen.

It could fill the jar in a whole new way.

The Caged Finches of Perkins

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Maya Angelou – “I know why the caged bird sings.”

“A small bird will drop frozen from the bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.” – D.H. Lawrence.

The other day, we went to visit my grandma and my aunt in Perkins Pavilion rest home. In the lobby, they have a glass-enclosed cage that is full of finches. Birds provide a sense of comfort and a spot of nature for the residents, many of whom rarely go outside. These finches are of several species, and they always make me think of both Darwin and captivity. When Darwin visited the Galapagos, he was more interested in geology, and had tasked another with cataloging the many bird species on the islands. At the time, cataloging meant shooting them and taking them back to England. Once back in England, an ornithologist realized they had different beaks to open the shells of the nuts they found. Different nuts for different islands, apparently. This led to sub-species that were better suited to each micro-climate.
Once I begin thinking about adjusting to micro-climates, I wonder if it is difficult. Do we not, in fact, do that all the time? Don’t we have to “read the room”, “feel the mood”, or “know your audience”? Matter of fact, instead of developing a specialized “beak” for social interaction, we have developed an “all-purpose” interface so we can get along with the greatest number of people possible.
The Finches of Perkins seem happy. They do seem upbeat. They do appear to be content. But are these not human emotions? I have a sneaking suspicion that all they care about is that there is a steady supply of food. Their swift and nimble travels between the straw nests they have built and the seed boxes placed throughout the enclosure brings joy to a watcher. Though mostly dull-colored birds, they have an unmistakable vitality.
As I consider these sweet birds, I draw a parallel to the human residents of Perkins Pavilion, a full-care retirement facility. Grandma and Aunt Rosemary live there. My dad refers to them as “the sisters”. They eat every meal together, just like when they were kids. They are happy, although they both wish for better health. I wonder if they feel trapped. I wonder if they long for the wide open farmscape of their youth, or their fertile gardens so lovingly tended, or the open road at vacation. Do they remember the sweeping pastures of the flint hills? Do they remember the stink of the hen-house? Do the dream of the chilling winters, the searing summers, or the perfection of a spring evening before the mosquitoes have hatched?
I know Grandma has said she is ready to go on to heaven. It is not that she hates living, it is just that she does not feel well, misses Grandpa, and is not having a ton of fun during her days. She appreciates her family and loves keeping up with friends, grand kids, great-grand kids. She still looks at pictures, reads cards, listens to my dad read her letters and keep up with all the news from our extended family. She still prays for all of us. She turned 100 years old last November. We celebrated both her birthday and my aunt and uncle’s 50th wedding anniversary with what amounted to a family reunion. The most that had gathered in several years, in fact. Grandma not only made it to the venue, she stayed for several hours. Her clear and evident joy at seeing her people together was worth any amount of miles driven, plane tickets bought, schedules re-arranged. Her prayer at Christmas Eve dinner this year had all our eyes stung with tears – words, just a few, of humility and grace. In part, she said “we need to forgive, to love, and to care for each other”. Forgiving each other for our hurts – how we wish we could master that.
Aunt Rosemary does not remember too many specifics about all of us, or where she is living, or where she used to live. She is really happy, though, and always has a smile on her face when we go to visit. She enjoys hearing about our few chickens and can tell a story about when she cared for chickens back on the Gfeller farm. Although Rosemary does not go out (except for medical appointments), she loved hearing about the gathering for Grandma’s birthday. Even when she is not feeling well, she still smiles when she says where it hurts. Smiling through pain – how we wish we could master that.

I believe the finches daydream of wide open spaces and trees to roost in and nuts to crack and bugs to catch. I believe the sisters have a lifetime of memories to sustain them through the slower hours of their days.

I do hope the sisters – do the finches? – know what lessons we learn from them about contentment in life.

Do the sisters – and the finches – know how much joy they bring us still?

I Need Lunch Money

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That is how my teenagers tell me that they love me and still need me in their lives.  It isn’t easy for them to speak the truths of love, feelings, appreciation, validation, need in conventional ways.  My wife and I now know that if we push too hard, they just want more distance from us.  If we lay off, and step back, eventually they wander back into the room and ask us “what’s up?”.

As a matter of fact, sometimes they need my help.  I totally get, now, why my Dad is always happy to help me with dumb car stuff, or dumb house chores when he comes to visit.  It is fulfilling and heartwarming to do simple things with my nearly grown sons.  Check the oil, crawl around under the car reattaching that plastic thing that protects something, changing a tail light, driving in one of their cars to go get the pizza.  It’s ALL FUN!  I get to love them (not allowed to SAY anything about it at the time), and enjoy them being part of the world.

There is just no down side to that kind of interaction.  I’ll gladly pay for lunch.  All they had to do was ask.

Drink The Rain and Thank The Clouds?

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Water Deep recorded a song, “I Will Not Forget You”.  It starts out with “Many men will drink the rain and turn to face the clouds; many men will hear you speak, but they will never turn around.”

How sad the truth.  How accurate the phrase.

What can we do to help our friends realize that it is God’s voice that caused them to turn around?  Even though God formed the earth to make rain and weather (which makes doubters use science as an explanation), His mercy still falls like a drink of water to a parched throat. 

On a summer’s day, after the sun, wind, and dust of the Great Plains, my throat craves!  I lust after a huge glass of dark, freshly brewed iced tea.  I want to drink it until my front teeth ache, my stomach pooches, and there is still another gut-busting draught left in the glass.

THAT is where God wants me.  Thank God for – not the tea, it’s just the metaphor – the satisfaction to my itch, my unrest, YOUR sense of dissatisaction, unease, that “what am I doing with my life?” feeling.

God sends the rain on the just and the unjust; true.  The difference is this:  His faithful send prayers of thanks to him for mercy.  The unjust merely look for a way to gain from God’s blessing.

Sometimes

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Sometimes life just plain defeats me.  I don’t get so much of why this world is so complex, relationships need so much energy, forward motion takes so much fuel.

I do know all the book answers; I just…

It’s like if you are playing tennis, and your opponent hits the ball way to the other side of the court, for the 50th time, and you didn’t get to the ball the other 49 times.  You know you SHOULD run for the shot, but, well, doggonit, you probably won’t get to the ball in time, and it will be his point.  You know how your feet feel at that point?  Should I run or shouldn’t I?

Or, running in a road race,  and you just gotta walk at the water table around mile 4 with 6 to go.  Why bother making your body start running again?  It takes, sometimes, more mental toughness than our conscious minds have.

So, ignore yourself, and keep working.  It will be worth it.

What we owe each other

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As our kids grow up, and we grow together, my wife and I were just wondering out loud to each other, “What do we get out of these obligatory relationships?”  We are crazy about our kids, crazy about each other, and even crazy about all of our relatives/extended family.  Really!  We are truly blessed to avoid almost all of the awful stories you hear/read where families just scream at each other.

Still, it takes a LOT of WORK to keep a family moving in a direction that is healthy.  After we (meaning me and Ang) get through our ceaseless chore list and are reasonably certain that the house won’t fall apart/burn down/get repossessed/rot/flood/mold, we STILL have relationships to foster.  If we give our best effort at work, and the kids give their best efforts at school, what do we come home to?  What do we have left when we finally get to the house, pull up the drawbridge, and lock ourselves in our castle?  This world is exhausting!

My almost constant prayer these days (and believe me, I’m no holy man deliberately setting an example), is that we five people who live in this house can just LOVE each other.  So simple but it takes a mountain of resolve and a pile of good intentions and a vat of grace to see past each other’s unvarnished humanity and take care of us – better or worse.

Is it just us or is it tough for everyone?

P.S.  Remember the story from The Mexican?  Brad Pitt and Julia Roberts?  “How much is too much?  When do you say enough and that the relationship is over?”  “NEVER, Never is the answer.”  (or at least something like that)

Why I am tethered to Youth Ministry

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God makes addicts of adults who belong in youth ministry. Let me explain. Even when my wife or I have WANTED to quit serving as part of our church’s Youth Ministry Team, we just haven’t been able to entirely pull the plug. Every year, a handful of kids inject themselves into our reality, and allow us the privilege of having a relationship with them. Crisis to a teenager is just as major to them as crisis is to nations, families or governments.

Middle school kids are squirrelly. That is a fact of life, and a truth that youth workers must know before they enter the room. Kids hardly ever settle down enough to listen to the words that we as teachers and mentors speak to them. That makes God’s call on our lives to have RELATIONSHIPS with middle schoolers all the more important. They will only remember us because of the friendships we had with them, and probably won’t remember any of the biblical lessons we tried to teach them. Sometimes my most valuable ministry time is throwing pillows at all the boys in the ‘couch-pillow fight’, or listening to the girls explain the latest fight between different friends.

High school kids aren’t squirrelly anymore, but they are mostly bored with adults trying to tell them stuff. Why listen to one more adult on Wednesday night or Sunday morning? They listen to teachers five days a week, and their parents nag at them all the time. Again, our CRITICAL MISSION with high school kids is to establish relationships with them. The reason we need the relationship is because when that student needs a shoulder, or needs compassion, or needs biblical counsel, we have earned the right to fill that role. Establishing ‘cred’ is as easy as stopping to talk with them over donuts on Sunday, or asking various students about classes, hair cuts, new shoes, or a new cell phone. I get lots of interest when I ask a group about texting; as in, “how many texts do you send a month?”.

We can’t offer advice, counsel, or compassion unless we’ve inserted ourselves into their lives prior to their point of crisis. Teenagers don’t listen to people they don’t trust. They don’t believe people who don’t believe in them. They also don’t trust people who walk into the room and announce that they have to listen now, “because an adult is speaking”. Oh, sure, they will listen, but only like they listen to the principal at the mandatory school convocation in the gym. We need to demonstrate OUR belief in them (by hanging out with them, for instance) before a student will trust us.

God’s plan for youth ministry is simple. We model and we teach two things: love God, and love people. Start with what Jesus said was the greatest commandment, “love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul, strength”, and continue with, “and the second is like it: love your neighbor as yourself”. That is a story for another day.