A Between-the-Lines Merry Christmas

I just spoke to my uncle on the phone. He's one of my dad's two brothers. It wasn't an easy phone call, and its probably one I should have made yesterday. These kinds of calls are definitely not my strong suit, and I'm sure it showed. His wife has been promoted from this life to Heaven.

We talked about God's timing always being perfect and about some words of wisdom from my dad. A slight injection for readers who might not be aware; my dad went home to be with Jesus 22 years ago.

But as Uncle Billy and I spoke these few minutes today, it was hard to say, Merry Christmas. It was hard because he was busy canceling doctor's appointments. On this Christmas Eve he was spreading difficult news of sorrow, by human standards. But before I could express any condolences, he was putting his perspective on today.

"Jesus was born to die," he said. "That's the only thought getting me through this." Jesus endured a horrible death and it was His death (and resurrection) that gives us hope. Real hope! He went on to quote my dad, who shortly before he died had told him, "I know I'm almost to leave this life. My job now is to stay faithful." My dad was a wise man, and it appears that dad's legacy lives on.

Uncle Billy will bury a wife for the second time this week. Life's lessons can sometimes be so hard. Timing seems so inconsiderate. But to those who are left behind, let's rejoice that our loved ones who have been promoted are experiencing the joys of both Christmas AND Easter like never before!

My Thanksgiving

This year is different. Every year, it seems that we are focused on the topic of thanksgiving about this time of year. I've noticed on my Facebook wall, many of my friends are posting daily items of thanks. That is really great, and I wish I had gotten in on that at the beginning of November, but quite honestly, I didn't want to start something and have it fall by the wayside.

As time moves on, and as we grow older and our children morph into the adults we've taught them to be, traditions change. I wrote a little bit about that last year around Christmas. But this year, it has hit me with a new level of sensitivity. Two years ago when my eldest daughter left home for college, as much as I missed having her around, it didn't really register with me as much. That's likely because my youngest was still home so it was still a lot of the parental responsibility at home to deal with. This past August, though, when my youngest left for college and we are the empty nesters, things got eerily quiet at home. A tank of gasoline would last a lot longer in the car. Going out to eat was a third cheaper than before. We began to adjust to the life of two instead of the life with child(ren) as it had been the previous 20 years.

This year, it has been so incredible to say, "Yes, the girls are coming home for Thanksgiving!" When I got home from my quartet trip this past Sunday evening, Emily had arrived home. Tuesday, she went to West Palm to pick up Abby. Now, they are both home and I'm a happy dad! I've been anticipating this week for quite some time. I think since it's here, I'm going to just kick back and enjoy it!

As life moves on and as children grow up, its true things change. I'm thankful for the way my daughters are growing up and maturing into these incredible young ladies that have Christ at the center of who they are. Since its truth that life changes, I could be no more proud of the way God is at work changing these two young ladies into who He wants them to be. I am confident that what Paul wrote is true in their lives, "...He who began a good work in [them] will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Philippians 1:6 NIV)

I trust that you will be thankful for your children and your family this Thanksgiving season. I certainly have a renewed sense of just what they mean to me.

I'm Sorry, Daddy

As I was growing up, it was common for my dad and I to play catch in the yard. It depended on what time of year it was as to what kind of ball we tossed. In the summer, it was a baseball; in the fall it was a football. In fact, dad was one of my Little League baseball coaches and when I played some high school baseball, he came to as many games as he could. We played church softball together for several years, too. I remember as a teenager and young man, I laughed at him when he ran. "You run like an old man!" I'd say. Those words haunt me today. My dad died when he was only 55. He was still a young man when he died! How could I say such things when he was still in his 40s, for cryin' out loud?! Those words haunt me today because even when he was 50, he'd outrun me today. I'm not yet 50, and haven't been physically fit enough to play an honest game of softball in years. Since I can't physically play the game at a competitive level, I've resorted to umpiring. It gets me on a softball field in a competitive atmosphere, yet I'm not feeling pressured to perform athletic moves in order to stay on the field. The pressure to umpire is much, MUCH different! Yes, there are times when I wish I had a glove. I've been nicked and scraped by the ball and foul tips at home plate still make me nervous. Line drives in the field still cause my heart to pound a little harder when I have to move quickly to keep from getting hit. Remember, I have no glove, and I'm not playing the game because I'm not as athletic as I once was! The most recent night I worked on a softball field was certainly a test. I'm not sure if God was testing me, or allowing me to be tested; but it was a difficult night. In the first game of three that I umpired, I was calling balls and strikes. The night started out well enough; I actually had a couple of close calls at the plate and no one argued with me. But then ~~~ A play was about to happen at the plate. The ball came screaming in from the second baseman who was the cut-off man in shallow right center field. It was up the third base line a bit; right where I was standing. I saw the ball heading my way, so I moved to get out of the way. The ball changed direction ~ toward me. I moved again, and it seemed as though there was a laser beam connecting the ball to my head. It seemed to tail right towards me ~ again. By now, the only thing I could do was turn. I turned and the ball just grazed my left arm. That didn't hurt at all. As I turned, though, I lost all sense of balance, and I started going down. At this point, all time seemed to go in slow motion. I saw the chain link fence of the backstop creeping closer to me. I knew I was going down. My gaze shifted toward the dirt getting closer to me. Then, finally I landed. Thankfully, there was no seismic earthquake, but a man of my girth hitting the ground is no laughing matter. Players, to their credit, came over to check on me. They asked if I needed some time to shake the cobwebs loose. I told one of them, if I take that kind of time, we wouldn't get the game started back. Later, some of the players who were watching this game, waiting to start the next one, were kidding with me asking if I was alright. I told them, the reason I'm umpiring instead of playing today is because umpires are supposed to stay upright. I'm not sure if I'm fit to be an umpire anymore! Now, please understand, I've got some other physical ailments with some joints and junk. I've been the doctors this past week with some other pains. But the part of my body that hurts the most right now? Yep, the strawberry on my right knee! So, yes, it pains me to remember me making fun of my dad running so slowly. At this point, I just wish I could run!