Song

Remember, we are part of a universal chorus; a collective of individuals united together under one communion. We are placed exactly where we are needed for the beauty of the whole, all under the passion and abundance of Christ.

In keeping with this blog's theme; I am eternally thankful for this.

Memories

Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose. ~From the television show The Wonder Years

Today and for quite some time I have been thankful for memories.

Recently, I have experienced multiple yet inexplicably random flashbacks. Anything from visions of my grandmother’s sunlit silhouette watering a willow tree, to thoughts of Kaisha climbing into my cherry red classic Mustang when we first started dating. I’ve had glimpses of “Hee Haw” run through my thoughts as well as moments of reading Walt Whitman on the deck of Uncle Raymond’s sailboat. All these moments that pop back into the present from time to time deserve so much explanation, they’re all epic stories, if unpacked individually, yet for some reason daily existence has a way of shrinking them into small blips. The day may allow time for a smile or even a chuckle but these recollections are quickly pushed back into the recesses. My story, my grand story, which in turn affects your story, can only be told by remembering these small moments. They cling together to form who I am.

Like the time my college roommate burned down our apartment while frying shrimp and showering simultaneously.

Like the time when Joe, Joey, and I swam out to an island somewhere in Lake Lanier and covered ourselves with a red/yellow clay mud from head to toe, a little homemade spa day.

Like the time my pawpaw filled a bowl with water and then floated a glass of Coca Cola in it - per my hankering for a “coke float”.

Like the times Samuel used to take naps on my chest while swinging in a hammock outside our house in Alabaster.

Like the time when I along with two others purchased over one hundred raw oysters, they where on sale as it was the last day of the season, and downed them in one night.

Like the time Samuel found a chicken head lying at our door; good job Elie (dog).

All these moments, fleeting from the spotlight yet in fact telling the entirety of the production. For these moments, when remembered at oddly placed times in the day, I am thankful.

I am also thankful that I have broken the blog drought.

“The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning…”

- Lamentations 3 –





Today I am thankful for the -

Peaceful embrace of easy falling snow
Blanketing with vigor
its uniform purity
covering
the day…

Innumerable collaborations of frozen white rain
Parachuting onto our lawns
Invading our pain, with a convergence of
Mercy,
Peace,
and Love

Supple Joy
unexpected,
unplanned,
unknown…

What’s next?
What surprise lingers just moments from now?
What creative expression is just around the corner?

GOD has in mind, new Glory…

We now, with fresh reminders, anticipate delight.

Pimp or Pastor?

I am thankful for those who do not allow themselves to be caught within the restraints of culture or society. Those who hear something different, who see something other than the norm. They walk around as if they know something; something enlightening. As if they have been given a gift.

"He who has ears, let him hear."

Those among us that see; bless this world with amusement, with provocation, with inspiration.

C.S. Lewis in "the Weight of Glory" offers the following:

"It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would strongly be tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal."

Makes you wonder. If we knew the true nature of the man pictured above would we be tempted to worship or would we run in horror? Either way this guy looks like he has something brewing a bit deeper than what you and I might call normal. There are no mere mortals. If we all lived a slight bit closer to our spiritual reality this world would burst with color, sound, and texture.

May your light shine; the light of Glory; the light that was in the beginning; the light that the darkness cannot overcome. "To live is Christ."

Like the delicate whiskers found within the small of a women’s back,

Like drops of due clinging to the newly birthed foliage of the garden,

Like puddles of rain dancing in the dark of night,

Like the smooth surface of a pool seconds before havoc is unleashed

'

…moments all to often pass through time with no real acknowledgement, no witness, no thank you. We remember moments, but do we taste their aroma thick in the current? Do we live the life found within the moments? Moments that have been culminating for thousands of years, they burst into our view, alive and fresh for consumption, there purpose is to inspire, and they are filled with delight when they are noticed.

'

Praise God for continued creation; for the flow of days. Praise God when our eyes are open; when our hearts are aware.
'

Thank you for moments.

The Journey

Today, I am thankful for past writings. Below is an email I sent out a number of years ago to a few close friends. It's fun sometimes to remember.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Samuel came up to me recently saying, "Daddy, I need to show you something. I found something!"

Mattie and I where up for a nice surprise, so we began to follow Samuel outside to see what he had found. Samuel led us around the house full of excitement and anticipation. As we entered the side yard all three of us, with Samuel on point, marched directly into a large pile of leaves.

Samuel began shuffling through the pile ferociously. Pushing and pulling the leaves around as if he had misplaced the surprise. By his demeanor I knew there must be something wonderful underneath. Mattie and I joined in the search.

"It was right here." Samuel voiced his frustration.

"Maybe, it’s over here?" he continued, not giving up hope.

After another several minutes we all sat down together. Not really giving up but simply taking a brief break in the search. We never really found anything that day. The something that Samuel had found personally was apparently rather elusive.

Now maybe there was something or maybe he just thought there was something, but the experience left me smiling from ear to ear. The wonderful something Samuel had found; that something he was desperately trying to share with Mattie and I was unreachable. In fact I’m not sure it was tangible at all. I believe it was relational. Maybe Samuel took us on his seeking mission simply for the comradery, simply for the company.

During those few moments we all shared in the faith that there was something physically there, amazing to behold, but somehow we never found "It". But I’m not sure if the “Journey” wasn’t the prize. The time we spent together in the wind; in the leaves; in the day was in fact the prize. Our participation was the treasure. Samuel reminded me in that simple moment to enjoy the ride, to enjoy the experience, the search, and to enjoy the people searching with you.

I’m enjoying the ride, are you?

There is a transcendent communion found among those whom have witnessed the divine, and although I did not know Lygon Stevens in this world, I am anxious to meet her in the next. The purity of truth that flows from her pen gives witness that she indeed has tasted the nectar of Almighty God. Take a moment, experience her story, and crave the eternal once more.

www.heightsoffaith.com

For her life I am thankful.

Snow Day

Proverbs 31:21

" When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet."

Or as Eugene Peterson translates in the Message.

"She doesn't worry about her family when it snows; their winter clothes are all mended and ready to wear."

Kaisha, the kids, and I bundled up yesterday in our best scarlet, ok maybe not scarlet but in some pretty decent looking winter cloths. We set out into the snow for a trek around the neighborhood ending with a fairly nice snowball fight and the construction of a miniature snowman ice skating on our pond.

Kaisha made the comment that this event would make the blog, so to self elect a prophetess in the family I scribe these few lines...

"An excellent woman, who can find?"

Kaisha did most of the bundling. Layer upon layer, hats, gloves, scarves all on whiny little kids that of course had to relieve themselves after realizing they where fully clothed.

For my wife, I am thankful. For our walk, I am thankful. And for the gracious peace of falling snow purifying our reality with a covering of white, I am thankful.

A great 1st snow day of 2010.

Roll Tide.

The gift of peace

Yes, yes, I am thankful, just not taking the time to reflect.

It’s the small things lately that keep me smiling and saying thanks again and again.

Last night, I just put the two older children to bed and took Emma in my arms to sit down and watch the Orange Bowl. I had been attempting this all evening, however did not make it to the couch until about 2-3 minutes before the half. Kaisha is working late again and the parental staff at home was down to one last night. But regardless, I was given a gift, a brief momentary gift, of Emma completely calm, in my arms, and watching football. For that moment I am thankful. Her tiny little hands, her soft warm head, and briefly her complete attention on Iowa and Georgia Tech. (Not sure for which team she was pulling)

Another please: This morning while driving the girls to day school my vehicle broke through a flock of birds scattering them through a picturesque landscape of steaming winter streams and old dilapidated wood paneled shacks. The frost glistening; the sun shining; and birds flying. For this brief glimpse at peace I am thankful.

I’m even thankful for future excitement. The possibility of snow conjures up Samuel and Mattie giggles, of which I love. Maybe a snowman is in our future. Remember to get the bread and milk, I hear they are running out.

Believe

Ok, so the daily entry attempt failed miserably, but there’s still hope. There’s still time. There are a couple days left in this year and hopefully a number of days to be experienced and thankful for next year. So, I will again begin the task.

I am thankful for 2009 and look forward to 2010.

I was thinking about showing a post from John Piper’s blog entered back in November of 2008; but not today, maybe tomorrow. For today, my wife suggested that I be thankful for Christmas.

She proclaimed boldly, “We pulled it off. It was magical. It snowed. Santa did come, and they believed.”

Her words tickled my ear and for this I am thankful. For Kaisha grasping at satisfaction I am also thankful. But mostly, I am thankful that the words above will be repeated someday in a slightly different manner.

As we join in communion with Christ we will one day be able to join in the celebration feast of “Pulling it off”. It will be magical, as it has been for all time. The grace and mercy of God our Father through Jesus Christ our Lord has rained down upon us, or in this case snowed down, and Jesus did come. (I know, odd comparison of Jesus and Santa – I do ask forgiveness for this – but hopefully you see where I am) And finally we did, you did, they did believe.


-Glory-


In John 6 - Jesus answered them, "This is the work of God, that you believe…”

I pray your Christmas was magical in whatever fashion you celebrate. But more deeply I plead that you feel the magic, experience the snow, are touched by Jesus and believe in all he is…this year, next year, and forever.

Telling it like it is.

.

To all those facebookers having a bad Monday. Cheer up, you have it made.

I'm thankful, are you?

Samuel

Six years ago today, Kaisha and I woke up in a labor and delivery room at Brookwood Hospital.

At 5:14 pm, after all the pushing and prodding, a beautiful boy weighing 6 lbs. 6 oz. came screaming out.

He was perfect and in spite of a few scares, both physically and emotionally, he still is.

Today, I am grateful for Samuel.

Our little Prophet. (That's a story for another day)

Skate Center Christmas

We skated.

I skated.

Kaisha skated.

Samuel - shuffled around while on wheels.

Mattie - fell, crawled, shuffled, and fell again.

Emma took a nap.

I am thankful that our worst injury was when Samuel bit through his tongue; causing a slight blood scare. I noticed later a few droplets out on the "rink". But as they say out on the "rink", "Don't slow down, you might fall." That's what I say at least.

We skated under disco balls and flashing lights.

We did the "Hokey Pokey".

We ate pizza

We had a coke.

We skated, 80's music and all.

I am thankful for the silliness of last night. And for the silliness of today; I ate at a German restaurant with a friend. I had knakworst and bratwurst, schnitzel and spaetzle, red cabbage and brussel sprouts. Tomorrow we are going to a parade, my family and I, not the friend I ate German with. Samuel is having an inside camp-out for his birthday Friday night. We are having breakfast with Santa Saturday morning and Christmas with the family Saturday night. We are having two more Christmas's next week. Then another one on Eve and Day. And don't forget that Santa Claus is coming to town.

Sometimes I think our life is the, "Hokey Pokey".

And during all of the seemingly random, yet well planned events, over the next couple weeks Samuel will shuffle around, Mattie will take a couple falls, and Emma will take a nap. For this I am thankful. Can't slow down, we might fall.

Wind

He who forms the mountains,
creates the wind,
and reveals his thoughts to man,
he who turns dawn to darkness,
and treads the high places of the earth—
the LORD God Almighty is his name.
(Amos 4)

Today, I am thankful for the wind.

The Hebrew word for wind is often interchanged through various translations with the words for breath and spirit. I, not being a scholar, do not fully understand why so many words seem to have different meaning, pending on who does the translating, but at simple face value, I appreciate this thought.

The God of the Hebrews, Elohim, offers his wind, his breath, his spirit today for our consumption, our appreciation, and our enjoyment.

I experienced this touch of the Lord God Almighty today during a brief lunch break. In his merciful form God has kissed the surface of Lake Wilson today with an awesome display of his Glory in the form of a rapidly advancing cold front. His wind; his breath; his spirit have transformed a calm lake into mighty and turbulent soup. The lake feels more like the ocean than a river. Large waves pound the banks. Glistening sunlight blinds in its reflection and seagulls struggle to fight the volatile gusts.

To quote a friend, “My, that sure is a purty river.”

Today I am thankful the LORD has lifted his Spirit within me by Breathing his Wind over me.

May you also experience the creation of the wind today and know the LORD God Almighty is his name.

Elvis

Today, I am thankful for Elvis. Yes, I'm aware of the cheesiness, however, I heard this song last night and had to stop a moment. I use to listen to Elvis with my Mawmaw on an old Hi-Fi stereo around Christmas time. The thoughts of her big yellow couch, orange chase lounge, and knob controlled cabinet TV decorated with a small white snow flocked Christmas tree simply takes me to another place. Elvis crooning from the living room. Cracking fresh pecans and drinking eggnog. Good times.

Today, I am thankful for musicians, poets, and entertainers
that can take us back to another time. I am grateful that we live in a creative world and that there are individuals who thrive in the process of creation. I am also, thankful for the memories that they invoke from time to time.

So take a moment and see where this song will take you. Enjoy.



Holly Leaves and Christmas Trees: Elvis Presley

Somewhere in, in the distant night
I hear Christmas bells
The gentle snow keeps falling down on people
Who are homeward bound
That's the way it's always been
The circle never really ends
Christmas seems to come and go
Home's a place that I don't know
Holly leaves and Christmas trees
It's that time of year

Lights aglow and mistletoe
Don't mean a thing when you're not here
As I walk, walk this lonely street
The sound of snow beneath my feet
I'll think of how, how it used to be when
Holly leaves and Christmas trees
Use to mean so much to me

Burst into Dance

Found within magnificent prose of awe and thanks there is a gem. A gem for which I am thankful.

Mary’s Song - The prayer of Mary, found in the gospel of Luke, after her encounter with Elizabeth, mother of John the Baptist. What a wonderful expression of joy and thanks found deep within the mother of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

However, what I am thankful for today is a particular translation of the opening line, namely the following:

I'm bursting with God-news;
I'm dancing the song of my Savior God
(Message)

The more traditionally accepted translations read:

My soul doth magnify the Lord,
and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.
(KJV)

My soul glorifies the Lord
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior
(NIV)

My soul exalts the Lord,
and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior
(NAS)

But, to relate to Mary, as best we can, at least when attempting to understand emotion, we can magnify, we can glorify, we can exalt. But, how much more to the point, do we simply, “Burst”. How can one from our culture truly and without pretense dissect the heart felt meaning of antiquated language like magnify, glorify, or exalt. But bursting, we can wrap our minds around bursting.

To Burst: not able to hold or control, to break apart into pieces, to be filled to the breaking point, to have excess emerge suddenly.

We can see that, we can understand that, we have felt that, we have tasted the sweetness of such a passion that simply cannot be held.

Thanks Eugene for allowing the word “Burst” to take on a holy interpretation.

Further, and maybe even moreso, I am grateful for the phrase.

“I’m dancing the song of my Savior.”
(Message)

Not dancing with my savior, not dancing to the song that my savior likes, not dancing for the savior, but in fact “Dancing the song of my Savior”.

There seems to be a connection, a bond, a relationship - so powerful that not only does she magnify, glorify, or exalt, but she becomes a part of the very expression of God. The two become one, a marriage, a kiss, a dance. Such mystery cannot be found in words like, rejoice. Maybe the mystery cannot be found in words or analysis at all. Instead it must be acted out. There must be motion, there must be art, there must be inhibition – the type that cannot be contained, the kind that simply bursts forth.

So for today: thank you, God, for allowing us to join in your dance.

"Jingle Bells, Daddy"

I know I know, shut up about the kids, but I have been taken back by how adorably sweet Mattie is this Christmas.

For the last two days my mother has kept Emma during the day. Mattie and I go by after work to pick her up. Mattie gets so tickled at MeMe’s door mat and wreath, “Jingle Bells, Daddy”. Her face glows with excitement each time she notices a new Christmas decoration. MeMe now has ten stockings hung by her chimney, at least four table top trees and garland hung everywhere. The lights and color, the warmth and joy, the cookies and candy has Mattie beaming. She is beautiful, sweet, happy, silly, and just plain fun.

For this, I am thankful

With kids at these ages I expect a certain amount of holiday spirit but the volume shown has given me pause. Even with all the craziness, worry, insecurity, and confusion of life I have to take a moment and settle in for a Great Christmas. These ages; these reactions; will really only be around for a short time. I am planning on soaking as much in as I can.

I hope you take time to be thankful as well.

Small Comforts

Crawling into bed, snuggling under the covers, the cool smooth feel of the sheets, the warm security of a roof over my head deflecting the rain, the surrounding walls to block the wind, indoor plumbing, hot water beating down from the showerhead begging me to wake up, a microwave to reheat yesterday’s coffee, switches on the wall that bring light to my world whenever I want…

For these things I am thankful.

During a conversation last evening the idea of God being fair arose. I am confident he is not. Is it fair that I have a bed, a shower, a microwave…when there are folks all over the world that do not have these comforts? Why do I deserve a beautiful wife and three wonderful children, when there are great people all around that wish for the same but somehow fall short? Why was I born to a loving family? Why was I born in America? Why was I born in the 20th century? I do not deserve any of the lavish blessings that flow from above. But I am very thankful for them.

Some may say, “Well that’s life, that’s not God.” Are God and Life not synonymous?

“For In Him we live and move and have our being.”

“Every good and perfect gift is from above…”

Reguardless of your position, “Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good.”

Traditions

They connect our present to our past. They encourage constancy for our future. We pass them down through the generations, irregardless of our awareness, hoping the next will remember the prior. Depending on the context, the word can take on an air of staunch futility or a feeling of warm remembrance. This time of year often lends itself to the later.

Last evening my family began our Advent. Now, the traditional mimicking of ancient longing and waiting for Salvation to enter the world through a messiah begins four Sundays prior to Christmas day, however, at our house we take a more secular approach and begin on the first of December. This practice allows us to pop a quick chocolate each night as we await the coming of Santa Claus. The kids love it and I do too.

My grandmother on my dad’s side had my sister and I an Advent calendar every December. The anticipation was often too much and we'd eat the chocolate days in advance. But Nanny didn't mind, she probably even related a bit to this desire. Participating in the practice my grandmother passed on her traditions as we continue to do so now; passing her tradition to the next generation. The modern practice of the Advent has its origins with German Lutherans. This makes a connection since Nanny was a native to Munich, Germany and attended Lutheran Mass in her childhood.

Last night, we also put up trees in our children’s rooms. Now there’s an odd tradition. This practice has been linked to ancient pagans - ranging from Roman Saturnalia to British Druids; Norse mythology to earlier Christianity. But the constant here is that we continue to put them up, decorate them, sit around them sipping cocoa - remembering years past while hoping for years to come. We love this tradition and accept it as if we originated its oddity.

For this I am thankful.

I am thankful that my generation is linked to generations from millennia past. I am thankful that regardless of my efforts my children will take on tradition. Good ones, bad ones, odd ones, fun ones; they too will be linked to this broad communion of all the peoples of the world; not only within their time but encompassing all time; from Lutherans of a few hundred years back to Druids thousands of years ago.

We are a collective of our past as we hope for our future.

The waiting for the Christ is over, yet we continue to long for his return. We are connected. Thousands of years cannot separate. For this mystery, I am thankful. I am also thankful for the smiles on my children’s face as they eat their Advent chocolate by the light of the Christmas Tree.

HO...HO...HO

Last evening as we began the tumultuous process of decking our halls, we ran across our collection of Santa hats. We of course immediately donned our gay apparel and began dashing through the house chanting all the carols we could remember. As the night came to a close, even the most mundane acts of bedtime took on a Santa theme. HO, HO, HO, while brushing teeth, hats on while reading stories, Christmas smiles while saying prayers. The entire evening was lost within the spirit of the big guy.

I remember from childhood, mother chasing my sister and I through the house. We would giggle and scream as we peeked around the corners attempting to avoid collision. If we were watching a TV movie we would jump up during the commercial breaks to get our fix of fun or as mom would announce our exercise for the night. I find myself doing the same with my children. There is always time to be silly when there are children in the house. Always time to laugh and enjoy.

This morning as the kids emerged from their sleepy rooms they both had on their Santa hats. Breakfast and cartoons where lifted slightly higher by the magic of Christmas this morning. My two little Santas wearily surrendered their hats just before time for school. Today is December the 1st I tell them. There are many more days of Christmas to come. We’ll play Santa again tonight.

For these times of Joy and for the remembrance of past graces, I am thankful.

Pasta

Samuel, my oldest, stood boldly in front of me last evening requesting assistance. He needed help. In one hand he held a lovely multicolored penne pasta necklace, in the other he held a spool of clear tape. There had been chaos in his world of dry noodle adornment resulting in a fracture, in fact, a clean break had occurred rendering one piece un-usable entirely. His request was simple. Please help.

We first thought it possible to join together as a team, one holding the pasta while the other took on the job of taping. This apparently causes many problems. On the rare occasion the tape adhered to the noodle properly the pieces would convulse into an unsolvable puzzle rendering the task vain. My larger hands combined with his rather unsteady smaller appendages simply did not work well together.

In the end he surrendered the entire job of re-creation to his father. After a few minutes there was success and I can proudly say we have a fully reconciled pasta necklace on hand.

For this experience, I am thankful.

I simply pray that I remember to take all my major problems to my Father, surrendering all to his expertise.