I Found a Seashell!

We hadn’t been at the beach long when it happened. Though Carter had been to the beach before, this was the first time my three-year old grandson truly grasped the sand and the sea. We had all lined our chairs up for the day, beach toys cluttered the sand, and snacks were already being consumed when Carter headed to the ocean. He suddenly stops, stoops down, picks up a small shell, and screams with delight, “I found a seashell!” Running back with a smile the size of Texas, he proceeds to go down the line of chairs showing off his find to each of us. Each person responds as though he had found a piece of gold.

The shell that Carter had found was anything but special. It was small in his own little hand. It is one of thousands, no millions of little brown shells that lie along the beach. No one picks up little brown seashells, but Carter did and when he did, it changed everything. What was common to us was special to Carter, and suddenly, what was extraordinary to Carter became spectacular to us. Smiles were everywhere!

What if we all lived out life the way our family reacted when Carter found his treasure. What if we made other people’s small successes feel big? What if we celebrated the fact that someone figured out how to run the remote control on the smart tv, boil water or make toast? One of my favorite cartoons is Calvin and Hobbes. In one particular strip Calvin shows Hobbes how when he stuck bread down in the toaster it popped up later as toast. In the last frame the two are absolutely awestruck with wonder and excitement over how bread became toast.

Unfortunately, social media and life as a whole has taken away to excitement of small wonders and accomplishments. Instead of being excited for someone else’s successes, we tend to compare, become jealous and even belittle their small victories. Tragic. One would wonder what would happen if we began to encourage and celebrate each other intentionally.

What if we listened to the co-worker that often seems crabby, spoke an encouraging or kind word? Possibly it could change their perspective. How about investing in what inspires or energizes our spouse? Maybe we would find the spark that has been missing. What if we encouraged our kids when they fall short of a goal or aspiration rather than show disappointment? Little subtle changes in our attitude and actions can go a long way in impacting others.

What if we would have responded to Carter’s find differently? “What if we had said, don’t you realize there are thousands of those little shells? That shell is so small and ugly, you should see the one I found.” It would have crushed him. Without realizing it, often we crush others, not intentionally, but by simply not being in the moment.

The holiday season is nearly upon us and with it comes friends and family who step into our life for a short time. This season be intentional to listen. Decide to celebrate small successes. One can only imagine the change you might bring to someone’s world and your holiday season.

Our Kids Can Thrive

One of the more amazing human interest stories has been unfolding over the last few weeks and its had me transfixed. It involved the four children who survived a plane crash and then 40 days in the Amazon Rain Forest in Columbia. What makes this story, and their survival, even more remarkable was their ages, thirteen, nine, four and one. In conditions that would be difficult for adults to survive, remarkably, these four kids did.

 

When news of the crash hit, the Columbian government immediately sent troops in to look for survivors. They were able to locate the plane, found three adults who had died, but there was no sign of the children. The search eventually moved from days to weeks and with each passing day hope of their survival waned. Planes flew overhead, men and dogs searched, and helicopters hovered. They used all types of communication trying to connect with the kids, simple pamphlets were dropped overhead and a voice recording of their grandmother blasted from helicopter speakers. What kept the search active was occasional evidence that the kids were alive; a ribbon, small footprints in mud, or a scrap of food that had been discarded. Finally, on the 40th day, all four children were found. They were in relatively good shape, a few cuts, some bug bites, and obviously very hungry. The thirteen-year-old, Lesly, account of the adventures gives us insight as to how they survived.

 

First, it’s important to know that the kid’s family were indigenous. These kids were natives to the land, grew up around and were accustomed to difficulty, and knew some basic necessities for survival. Someone had invested in educating them in how to live in their world. Lesly had knowledge of the land, the environment, and some awareness of danger, both of people and animals. She somehow was able to navigate the rest of the kids to safe spaces for 40 days. We’ve learned that the area of the crash was filled with venomous snakes, panthers, leopards, and many other precarious animals, yet throughout the entire ordeal, not one animal harmed them. She was conscious of needing to be careful of men. The area was known to be a place where drug dealers and gangs would hide. During the 40 days, though the soldiers didn’t see the children, the kids saw them. Lesly would tell the smaller children to be silent and cover the mouth of the baby until they had left the area. There was 50lbs. of flour on the plane and Lesly was able make meals with it. She knew which jungle fruit was safe, and though the food was meager, they were able to survive. Finally, there are conflicting reports to the timing of their mother’s death, one account says she died instantly, while another says she survived four days. The account of the mom living four days says her last words were, “I’m dying, but someone will come and help you.” If true, what powerful last words of hope.

 

There are so many life and spiritual lessons to be gleaned from this amazing story. We see the value of a godly heritage and realize we must not take it for granted. We learn the importance of spiritually educating our kids, that if we prepare them, they can navigate the difficult world culture and climate they have been placed in. While it true that our kids are growing up in unprecedented times, this encounter gives us evidence that if we train up our children in the ways they should go, they can, not only survive, but thrive. These kids survived nearly impossible conditions, without any adult help, because they had been prepared.

 

Whether true or not, the supposed last words of their mom, that someone would come and rescue them, are words we must remind our kids of consistently. They must know that there is someone who can help them, that there is a helper, Jesus, His Holy Spirit, that can rescue them, protect them, and guide them to safety.  Train up your children in the ways they should go. 

Crazy Squirrel

One of my main family objectives has always been to make sure that our home has been filled with laughter. Often that has meant being the source of silliness or the recipient of one of our kids pranks.

When our kids were young, I would often find myself pushing them on the swing in our backyard. One day one of our kids saw a squirrel and said, “dad, look a squirrel,” as I turned to look, a foot hit my backside. It was just a brush, but I heard a giggle, and I realized I had an opportunity to create laughter. From that simple moment came one of our kids’ favorite activities, “crazy squirrel.” I would push the swing, they would yell “crazy squirrel,” I would turn, they would hit my backside, and I would tumble, summersault, and flop like I had been hit by a two by four. Over and over, they would hit me, I would tumble, they would laugh, cackle, and giggle until they were in tears, and then I would hear, “do it again dad!” This became the swing set routine for years. I have tumbled, and flipped more times than I can count. To this day when Gent or Ris see a squirrel they still say, “hey dad, crazy squirrel” and there is the biggest smile.

My grandson doesn’t’ know it yet but soon crazy squirrel will return. I’m hoping I’m still fit enough, and even if it means being a little sore, I’m planning on flipping and falling just to hear the cackle and laughter of Carter. Why? Because there is no better gift you can give your family than laughter. It doesn’t matter how old your kids are, laughter is always good medicine.

How do I know? Saturday Mary, Gent and I took a quick day trip to Washington D.C. We visited a few museums and saw some landmarks. It was at one of those landmarks, the Washington Monument, when we decided to take some pictures. Gent had the iPhone, and I was waiting for Mary to get in place when I heard Gent say, “dad, hold your hand like this.” I saw the smile on his face, and I knew what was up. He wanted my palm turned up like I was holding something, I complied, and then the requests, “a little left, up some, over, down and to the right, yep right there, hold it.” And then it came, a roar of laughter and a big smile. I was holding the Washington Monument in my hand. I knew where it was going, it was just a matter of when, Insta. Didn’t care though. I made my twenty-six-year-old son laugh, created a memory for a lifetime, and reminded him that he’s worth any prank he ever wants to pull on me.

Too many focus on giving kids things that cost money, but one of the greatest gift you can give them, is the gift of laughter. It will remain long after you have passed. Still have doubts? Ask my daughter, Risa, about some socks that ended up in my pillow for a week and then get ready to see the biggest smile and tears of laughter. Here her story and then watch for my revised and corrected version in a later blog!

The Value of Sleeping in an Airport

My son Gentry has a zeal for life like no one I’ve ever met. He’s 26 and loves to travel the world. He’s been to countless National Parks, Ireland, and Iceland, yet ask him today what one of the highlights of 2022 is, and he would tell you a day trip with his dad. Unfortunately, the past year has been filled with much upheaval and one of the tragic results was me saying, “no” to countless trips that Gentry wanted to take with me. Finally, with our pastoral transition behind me, a little extra cash, and some spare time, I was able to say yes to a trip. First, I should say I am thankful that Gentry continued to ask me to go on trips; that he didn’t give up on me. He had every right to become bitter and resentful. What it spoke to me was, that more than any gift I could give him, he wanted to have time, make memories, and experience life with his dad. Again, a blessing I will forever be thankful for. As for the trip, it was short, just one day. It started early, 4 a.m. We were on a plane to Detroit by 6 a.m. and by 10:30 a.m. we were standing in Denver. He had rented a car, planned the day, and taken care of every imaginable detail. The day was amazing. It wouldn’t be a Gentry trip if it didn’t mean getting lost, we managed to do that within the first hour, trying to find a Dunkin Donuts. Somehow, we ended up in the middle of an office complex parking lot. Once we got our coffee, we were off to the Garden of the God’s, a state park just south of Denver. We walked, hiked, and climbed for a few hours, though both of us eventually admitted it was a little less than overwhelming, and that there were so many people on the rocks that we felt like ants at a picnic. From there things got much better. A much bigger venue, and a lot less people. Pikes Peak. We enjoyed every twist and turn, the scenic views, and ever-increasing snow. We ventured up the mountain to a little over 13,000 feet when we rounded a corner to see a park ranger. The news was not what we wanted to hear. Winds were blowing at 75 mph, with gust over 100 mph. Our journey had ended. We through some snowballs, got some pictures, and headed back down the mountain. The day was long from over though, from there he had planned our next expedition, downtown Denver. We saw Mile High Stadium, Coors Field where the Rockies play, and some local shops, before finding a restaurant and settling down for dinner. The day was over, so I thought, but Gentry had one more adventure for me to experience. Flights were tight, but he managed to get a us a flight to Houston, one caveat, we would have to sleep in the airport, something that he had done many times, but would be my first experience. I survived. I woke up understanding that there are some strange people in airports after midnight, sore, and very tired. By noon on Sunday, we were back in Noblesville setting at Chili’s, reliving the journey, and already embellishing the trip. Some simple observation. No matter how old they are, and no matter how busy you may be, take time for those who matter most. Make more memories than money. Give your kids, regardless of their age, the best you have . . . yourself.