Friday, September 26, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
I had coffee with Kami and Aly today before school. On a semi-regular basis we get out to have an honest chat about their views on things, their feelings about things, and their beliefs about things.
After they got their cinnamon rolls and I got my coffee, I started the conversation by telling them they could ask me any question they wanted to. Kami raised her hand and said she had one. “Dad, have you ever watched a rated “R” movie?” That one question led into the different ratings for movies and an age appropriate explanation about violence, horror, language, and modesty (or inappropriate sexual material). I told her that I do watch occasional rated “R” movies, but not if they are filled with sex, foul language, or unrealistic violence. I told them that I love real stories of history that movies try to repaint because it helps me appreciate what they went through.
That led into a conversation about swear words. Kami asked what the swear words were. So we went down through the list and I explained the dirty meaning of each one. We also talked about slang words and why we try to steer clear of using those substitutes. Although Kami looked at me and said, “Sometimes you say crap and fricken’.” I humbly apologized and said I need to work on that and eliminate those things from my vocabulary. (I hate it that my kids are old enough to call my bluff.)
Kami then initiated a conversation about “praying before we eat” at restaurants. She asked, “Dad, does anyone else pray before they eat in front of other people?” What an amazing conversation emerged out of that line of questioning. I love trying to explain these simple habits in simple words…but I’ll be honest, sometimes it’s tough.
I just love my little girls. I love nurturing them and I have to remember this in times when I get distracted by other lesser things vying for my attention and affection. Time is flying by, and these moments are fleeting.
Pray for me.
Friday, September 05, 2008
Thursday, September 04, 2008
As I walked in the front door, I could smell the aroma of fresh paint. Being that I struggled with huffing gas in my childhood, I’ve always had a proclivity towards things with toxic and intoxicating odors. Things like markers, rubber cement, burning foam and fuel. I’ve lost innumerable brain cells over the years because of this addictive affinity.
The girls were in bed, but Heidi wasn’t. She descended the stairs like a princess and I hugged her like we hadn’t seen each other in months. It’s amazing what even five days away from her does to me. She’s bewitched me body and soul, stealing Jane Austin’s line from Pride and Prejudice. Even the natural fragrance of her body was something that my senses were cathartically renewed to appreciate. Everything was startlingly new. The house even seemed freshly different.
After talking for a couple minutes, she told me that she had something to show me. I was picturing a long trail of rose petals leading toward our bedroom—not so much. But it did have something to do with the “loveshack” as it so happened. She had repainted our bedroom in my absence and it looked awesome.
I was so happy to be home. There is something awesome about being “away”, but it only is meaningful if it’s compared to being “home”. When your life is nothing but a feeling of “awayness”, you live with a perpetual sense of drifting, a gadabout restlessly and aimlessly lost. Home is the place where you hang your heart. It’s the place were “everybody” knows your name (your story). It’s the place where you don’t have to explain yourself or prove yourself or cover yourself. There is a freedom associated with home that is ineffable.
And as I laid my head down on my own pillow in my own bed at my own house, I rested with a restfulness that I had only few times in my life experienced. It was deep and rich and full. My mind raced with where I had been the last 6 days and how much I had taken in. There was no doubt in my mind; it had in some small, yet profound, way changed me.
My heart will always be pulled west. Go west young man. I know what this means now. Every young man must go west in his life, else his heart dies a slow death. You can be told that, but you have to go there to really know it deep down in your bowels.
And I know that now. I really, truly know that.