birthday day

fourteen. Fourteen. FOURTEEN. fourteen years of brown-eyed-curiosity.

fourteen years of focus on trains and bulldozers, lawnmowers and tractors. fourteen years of watching the weather turn from hail to snow to ice to rain and back again to hail.

fourteen years of pushing and pulling and growing and changing and challenging and laughing and crying. my eldest son is fourteen today.

i remember how he didn't want to be born. tucked in the eternal womb of warmth, he'd rather have stayed, snugly comforted by a environment that was constant and controlled.

i remember how he was eventually taken via c-section and how he didn't want to eat right away and didn't want to be undressed and changed.

from the word "go" this fourteen year old of ours thrived in routine and predictability. and we eventually caught on.

oh, how i pray this fourteenth year will bring deep and true and long lasting blessings of hope and joy and peace and strength.

may the year ahead be filled with calm strength that carries through every storm, wisdom that rides every wave of conflict, and love that fulfills every dream dreamt.

perspective

my perspective on a subway train bombing. horrible. unthinkable. how could someone do a heinous act? how could they take innocent lives? how could they knowingly strap a bomb to their bodies and in one act decide who lives and who dies? who do they think they are? why is their vision of life and death and eternal glory superior to another?

my perspective. the suicide bomber's perspective. who is right? who is wrong? who determines? if i have a choice and the suicide bomber has a choice, then we act of our own free will.

Why would I blame God for the suicide bomber's choice? What did He have to do with their act? Could He have prevented it? Would He have? My perspective says, "yes, this time, He should have stopped it, intervened, prevented loss of life. Or maybe, no, those people deserved to die because they don't live in a christian society." When I play God, I step into a dangerous role. I am limited. I don't have the entire picture. I don't have an eternally perfect perspective.

When I wrestle with horrible acts committed in the world I live, I recognize that I don't have the full perspective God has. And the only thing that gets me through is faith that I don't see it all clearly right now and I won't know why, but I can trust in the only true God who does. And that's a comfort, a strength, a power I can rest in.

passion defined by a nascar fan

Large, square-framed glasses encompass bright, blue eyes as they dance in animation with the passion the nascar fan expresses as he explains what nascar is. He introduced himself as "Stan" and patiently answered all of my ignorant questions regarding a sport I know nothing about. Stan shares the 9 hour journey that lead he and his wife from California through death valley to the Las Vegas 400. "Turn four", Stan proudly informs me, "is the best place to sit. You see it all!" Stan is covered in nascar gear, from his hat to his sought-after M & M designed yellow jacket. "There are three racing series...in my opinion, the truck series is the most fun...man, they really race. Nationwide series is next, then comes the Sprint Cup series. If the ran delays the nationwide series on Saturday then they'll race in Monday. We will stay through, probably until Wednesday. It's really great to watch'em race." "Now, Michael Waltrip is something else. Decent guy. I once watched him spend extra time with 4 kids from one family-see-that's the future of nascar-and he hung out with them. Incredible......"

Passion-I saw it through what he was wearing. I experienced it as he talked with me. I recognized the legacy it leads by bringing up younger generations in it. Stan was a non-stop-full-throttled-testimony to passion.

So, application time. What am I passionate about? Do people, strangers even, know what I am passionate about while in conversation with me? Do I spend time bringing the next generation up to speed with my passion? The greatest enemy in my life is melba-toast-bland living.

while waiting for the city bus

Faces solemn, expressions resigned, the bus riders wait for the next bus in various places on the side walk. Ear buds attached, backpacks fastened in place, books open, but ears always attuned, they know when the next bus will come. It's like some inner clock that I didn't inherit, they stand and watch silently. And then, as if on cue by some unseen conductor, they rise and begin to walk toward the oncoming bus, standing in the precise stop the bus will stop. Boarding comes like breathing in air, a stance of calm confidence juxtaposed against my slight-panic-caution-pose. I am not in control. I don't set the pace. I can't problem-solve alternate routes if traffic is heavy or if I am inpatient. The riders taught me to release control of things I cannot pseudo-control anyway. How much of my energy is spent on controlling things I am not in control of?

Princess.....

I cannot take care of you if you take care of yourself.

I cannot give you all I have for you if you find it yourself.

I cannot provide for you if you provide for yourself.

I cannot go before you if you are leading the way by yourself.

I cannot show you my way if you go by yourself.

I cannot be if you are being.

I cannot shine if you are in the spotlight.

I cannot if you insist on doing it.

I will not.

a birthday wish

i remember the flute-playing-ultra-smart-barefoot-running-night-owl the most.

i looked up to her skill, her strength, her savvy. she went distances i could only imagine; never having the courage to go there myself. far away places, with foreign food and language-germany and egypt and china, the world was her oyster.

i analyzed her friendships, evaluating how she interacted with her girlfriends.

i observed the books she read-big, thick ones that she'd tenaciously pour over hour after hour.

and her stories; vivid and deep, soul searching characters on adventurous quests. and her art and her brilliant mind.

she went before me. her firsts before my firsts. and then the firsts stopped.

and we seemed to trade roles. only the mutual admiration society ended. and the distance grew wider and taller and deeper until it seems as though its impenetrable. but that doesn't stop my birthday wishes...wishes big enough to dream about, big enough to hope in, wishes of a bond that's strong and true. we have things in common,with heredity you can't escape it. i wish her much love, deep joy, and warm peace tonight. and although we no longer speak the same language, i hope one day for unity.

signs that spring is coming!

• I see real dirt alongside of the house. Real dirt!
• The sun shines much brighter and warmer.
• The days are getting longer, it isn't getting dark at 4:00 in the afternoon anymore.
• Marathon training is beginning.
• Every now and then, my family runs outside and to the car without a coat on.
• I hear birds tweeting. Real birds. Tweeting. Not people tweeting.
• The snow is melting sooner.
• I am getting mail for summer camp. summer vacation spots. summer events.
• flip flops are back in the stores.