Archive for the ‘Parenting’ category
September 8, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 8, 2018
Squirrels were named after sixth graders! When you’re around sixth graders for very long you just automatically blurt it out. “You’re squirrelly!” And then someone saw a furry looking hyperactive, confused critter climbing the tree in their front yard and he said, “Wow! I’m not sure what that thing is but it’s as squirrelly as a sixth grader so I’m going to call it a squirrel!”
Okay! It probably didn’t happen that way, but it’s a good story, and if you’ve been around sixth graders for very long you understand how plausible the story sounds.
Yesterday I was teaching sixth grade physical education. It’s kind of like filling thirty balloons with air and letting them go all at the same time.
We were teaching the students a new game, which was not complicated to understand. It involved trying to get all of the people on one team to the other end of the field without having the flags they wore around their waists pulled by someone from the other team.
Simple, right?
The other teacher I was partnered with that day explained the game thoroughly and then said the words that she wished she could take back, the words that cause body tremors and sweating.
“Are there any questions?” Hands shot up in the air like 4th of July bottle rockets.
“What if…someone doesn’t mean to fall, but he does? Does that mean he’s frozen until he gets freed by one of his teammates?”
“Yes.”
A future lawyer. “What if…the person who falls has been tripped, pushed, or in a collision that results in his tumble? Would he be held liable for the consequences of the action, or would you take into consideration extenuating circumstances…AND, is there an appeal process in place for the defendant?”
My teaching colleague has a blank stare for a moment. “We will consider each action individually.” The student starts to ask a followup question, but my colleague ignores her and looks at the body attached to another raised hand.
“What if…I’m running down the field and my flag falls off just because? Can I just put it back on? You know…like the wind just blows it off of me, because that wouldn’t be fair!”
“If your flag falls off because of the wind or as the result of some other act of nature you can put it back on and resume the game.”
The future attorney is raising her hand and waving it wildly as she considers her case before the Court of Sixth Grade PE Appeals. The teacher contines to ignore her, and turns her attention to a squirrel sitting on the top row of the bleachers.
“What if…someone calls my name and when I look to see who said my name a different person from the other team runs by and pulls my flag off?”
“Then you are frozen until a teammate frees you.”
“Ahhh!” he responds with a look of agony.
Redheaded girl with a bored look wishing she was in math class. “Do we have to play?”
“Yes.”
Blonde boy who has a tendency to want to always say things that makes his other squirrelly classmates giggle. “What if…someone’s shorts rip right down the middle and their underwear is showing?” Giggles from the gathered.
“If that happens they will be out for the rest of the game.”
“That’s not fair!”
“By the time they go back inside, change shorts, and come back out again, our class period will be over.”
Future prosecutor’s hand going berserk.
“Is this question relevant?”
“Yes, absolutely!”
“Okay! Last question because we aren’t going to have that much time to actually play the game.”
“I’m not throwing any accusations or inferring that a certain person, who will remain anonymous, would do this, BUT…what if someone from the other team made some offensive remarks about another person in the course of game play? Would that be grounds for, so to speak, legal action?”
My colleague looks at her with a facial expression that communicates “No comment!’
“Okay! Mr. Wolfe’s class is red and my class is yellow! Let’s play!”
And the squirrels rush the field to play the game for the one reason we’ve planned it for. That they will run around like crazy for the next fifteen minutes!
Categories: children, coaching, Freedom, Humor, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: middle school, middle school physical education, middle schoolers, Physical Education Class, sixth grade, sixth grade students, sixth graders, squirrels
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September 5, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 5, 2018
Two weeks ago my cell phone rang around 8:00 in the evening. I was finishing up the rewrite on the sequel book to the first one…that I hadn’t planned on there being a sequel to!
I picked up my phone and saw that the call came from my oldest daughter, Kecia. So I answered, as I have a tendency to do, by speaking Spanish.
“Como esta usted?”
“Huh?” came the high-pitched voice on the other end of the line. It was my ten year old grandson calling on his mom’s phone. Jesse does not speak Spanish yet, at least the way I speak it!
“Is this Jesse?”
“Yes, Granddad!”
“Oh!” (pause) “What’s up, Jess?”
“Well, we just finished Red Hot: New Life in Fleming.”
“You did?”
“Yes, and we really liked it!”
“You did? That’s great!”
I had sent the book draft in an email attachment and each evening right before bedtime Kecia had read a chapter of the book to Jesse and my granddaughter, Reagan. They had read the last chapter that night.
If no publisher picks it up for publication I know at least three of the most important people in my life will have given it “five stars” in their evaluation. (Now they are reading the sequel at bedtime!)
Kecia told me that they had cried when a tragedy had occurred for one of the main families in the book. And she told me that they had enjoyed a certain chapter so much that they read it twice.
Both of the grandkids (Their 3 year old sister isn’t quite into the reading and listening stage yet, although she does get read to every night.) are avid and excellent readers, encouraged by their third grade teacher mom. Their reading level is far above the average for their peers. It’s a byproduct of the fact that they have ended their day with a reading time for as long as they can remember.
So now I wait to hear from the publisher who has the draft. I pitched it to the managing editor of a publisher back in May at the Colorado Christian Writer’s Conference. He gave me his card and told me to send it to him. Since then we’ve exchanged a few emails and he’s told me it won’t be until around the end of October before they’ll make a decision.
Another publishing house of the “vanity publishing” type wants me to pursue it with them, but a good-sized payment is attached to their contract…that is, I pay them and sometime down the road…in a future life maybe!…I’ll break even!
My two good friends, both with knowledge and experience in the print industry, continue to encourage me and tell me that it is an excellent book. They have edited both my original draft and then my rewrite…as well, as the sequel. They have been drawn into loving the characters and have come alongside me as plots have been shaped and considered. In certain times in the writing of the book(s) one of them has said something like “What if…?” or “Why did you take the scene in that direction?”
The publishing industry is tough competition these days. Companies are much more selective in what they are pursuing. In this time of 140 character tweets people don’t read like they used to. BUT people will still read a good story!
For now I have at least three people who’ve given me five stars. Actually, my two editing friends would join the three related to me, so I guess I’m at five people!
Now I’ve started writing Book 3. It seems somewhat strange to write a third book in a series where even the first novel hasn’t been published yet…but I want to see how the story ends!
Categories: children, Christianity, coaching, Community, Freedom, Grace, Grandchildren, Humor, love, Novels, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: book draft, christian fiction, Colorado Christian Writer's Conference, editing, library, literary works, Novels, print industry, publishing, publishing a book, reading, reading fiction, Red Hot: New Life In Fleming, vanity publisher, writing, writing fiction
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September 3, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 3, 2018
(The seed thought for this blog post comes from hearing a sermon by Rev. Ed Stucky)
“Lord,” Ananias answered, “I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your holy people in Jerusalem. And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call on your name.” (Acts 9:13-14, NIV)
Sometimes we treat God like he’s the parent of teenagers…and we’re the teenagers! Remember those days? You know, when, in your opinion, your parents were completely clueless!
We believe it’s necessary sometimes to tell God what he doesn’t seem to know. It’s one of the ways we can stay in control, believing that God doesn’t have it all together, a divine being with developing dementia.
The Bible gives us more examples of people trying to correct God’s poor decisions than people who took him his word. Moses tried to straighten him out at the burning bush. He was sure that God had mistaken him for someone else, kind of like Isaac mistaking Jacob for his brother Esau.
Ananias felt God needed an update on who Saul (to be renamed Paul a little later!) was and what he had done. Like a royal advisor, he brought necessary intel to the Almighty All-knowing on this man coming to his city.
If the Scriptures are filled with examples of people doubting God’s directives we can be assured that it’s a recurring story in our faith journeys. When God directs it’s rarely for something that we would naturally do. For instance, he didn’t have to tell me to go to Starbucks this morning and order a cup of Pike Place coffee. He knows that it’s part of my routine. However, if while I’m at Starbucks he nudges me to give a $20 bill to a man who has just walked in I might very well inform him that I only have one “Jackson” left in my wallet. To which he would reply, “So?”
Faith in the Lord is a slippery thing. We talk about it, learn scriptures that convey it, read stories of it’s existence and magnificence…but when the rubber meets the road of our life we challenge Jehovah God’s intelligence and wisdom. It is the evidence of our fallen nature. We’re prone to believe in the wayward guidance of the Deceiver that sounds good rather than the trusted voice of the Deliverer that causes a queasiness in our digestive systems.
Lord, we believe! Help us in our unbelief!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Jesus, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Acts 9:13-15, Almighty, Ananias, Ananias and Saul, Belief, believing in the impossible, Isaac and Jacob, Jacob and Esau, obedience, trusting, trusting in God's leading, trusting in the Lord
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September 2, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W September 2, 2018
When my dad passed away last February it was the end of a generation. It was also the end of a gathering place for family keepsakes. Dad’s apartment in the Wyngate Senior Living Complex needed to be packed up and moved out. That task fell upon my sister and brother-in-law to complete after my family flew back to Colorado, and my brother drove back to Frankfort, Kentucky.
A few weeks later a box arrived at our house packed with family pictures, an iron skillet, and various other items that had meaning to the Wolfe clan.
And in the box, stuffed down in a corner by a tube of Brylcreem, was Dad’s hairbrush. The bronze-colored handle fit my hand easily. When I picked it up out of the box a flash flood of emotions surprised me. I recognized that this hairbrush had stroked the hair on Pop’s head for years. In his last few years it would be accurate to say that it didn’t have that many hairs to brush…kind of like a cornfield during drought conditions!
Each morning since I opened that box I’ve used Dad’s hairbrush on my own head of hair…well, with the exception of the few weeks when I shaved my head because of a lost bet with one of my basketball players (See “WordsfromWW.com” 3/4/2018 blog post “My Last Day With Hair For a While”).
I’ve moved my part over to the left slightly to allow the brush to take a longer stroke. Having a part in my hair isn’t as easy with a hairbrush as it was with a comb, so I’ve just relocated it closer to my left ear. Darla, my barber, shows me a path that I simply trace over each morning.
And each day I pick up that hairbrush and hold it in my hand I think of Dad. It’s a simple thing, a moment of reflection and connection.
There are some people that you miss about as much as a hemorrhoid…and there are other people you miss like your heart has been cut from your chest cavity. Dad was our heart, our wisdom, the groomer of our civility.
As I ponder the words I write this morning my emotions rise up from within. It is the way things should be; that our parents reappear in the moments of ordinary routines.
For my mom, who passed away five years ago today, she comes back to life every time I see a crossword puzzle, or see a pair of those fuzzy looking house slippers, or eat a ham and cheese omelette. (I ate one last night!)
For Dad, he shows up anytime a Kentucky basketball game is on TV, I put hamburgers on the grill, and…brush my hair!
A lot of people think of flashy events and extravagance when they remember people from their lives. Flashy would not have been a word that anyone would have used in describing my dad. The motorized wheelchair that he used for the last year or so of his life was about as flashy as he got! His life was more like a consistent steady walk with strides of patience and humor.
It was more like a stroke from a hairbrush, long and loving, the same day after day.
Categories: children, Community, Death, Freedom, Grace, Grandchildren, Humor, love, marriage, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: brushing your hair, Brylcreem, combing hair, elderly, elderly parents, family, family memories, hairbrush, memorable moments, memories, older generation, parental influence, parents, passing away, remembering, senior adults, senior citizens
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September 1, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 1, 2018
I was asked to substitute teach one day this past week in the classroom that serves as the base for the students at our middle school who have special needs. As the day went on I realized that I was the student and they were my teachers.
They treated me special!
One young lady let me join her in the morning for a few minutes of lego-building before she headed to class. I built a Starbucks drive-thru, which she flashed a smile about, but then threw me a look that told me that I needed to get back on task and stop goofing around.
A boy drew me into being a customer at his pretend restaurant, but when I didn’t put both of my legs squarely under the table he gave them a slight shove to get them where they are suppose to be…before taking my order of a pretend double cheeseburger and onion rings. A couple of minutes later when I had gone to the pretend restroom and then back to the table he repositioned my legs once again under the table like they are suppose to be.
Another young man drew an amazing picture of a mountain nature scene. His classmate flashed a “dab” for me a few times and explained to me what each of the three rubber snakes draped around his neck were with accompanying vital information that might save my life if bitten.
Towards the end of the day the lego-building student “instructor” was working on math problems. She pulled another chair up close to her and smiled at me.
“Would you like me to sit down?” She smiled, nodded her head, and patted the seat. Since my lego-building skills were suspect in her eyes, maybe I also needed math help.
Let me interject here! The para-professionals who work with the students are awesome. They guide them towards success in its various forms, whether that be improving their organizational skills, completing assignments, or relating to the other 1,200 students in the middle school. Every day is punctuated with the extreme emotions of tears and laughter.
The students who take on the role of “peer partner” during each class period of the day are just as incredible and important. They walk with their students to class, help them conquer difficulties, and bond with them in lasting friendships.
Last year an 8th Grade special needs student was on the school basketball team. Coach Achor told him he would play in a game sometime during the season. His anxiety was evident as he faced the possibility of that, but then the day of the game arrived. All of the special needs staff- para-professionals, teachers, peer partners, and other special needs students- were there. When he went into the game they all cheered.
And then when he made a basket they all cheered…and cried!
Last week I went back to school for a day to be taught. By 2:45 I had learned a little bit about acceptance, grace, the love of life, and the humor hidden in the simplest moments of life.
The next day after that I was the guest teacher for 8th Grade science. The student who had drawn the incredible picture of nature was in one of my classes.
“Hi, Mr. Wolfe!”, he said immediately upon entering the class. “What are you going to do this weekend?”
“Well, (his name) I’m going to do some running, some reading, some relaxing, and some writing.” I should have added, “In fact, I’m going to be writing about you!”
Categories: children, coaching, Grace, Humor, love, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: acceptance, autism, autistic, challenged, challenges, children, dab, Lego building, middle school, para-professionals, peer partners, special needs, special needs students, Starbucks
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August 28, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. August 28, 2018
Today, Tuesday, is my day off this week. I substitute teach the other four days of the week. Last week I manned a classroom Wednesday through Friday. Most of my days so far have been spent being the sheep dog for seventh graders. You know, chasing behind them and barking loud enough that the ones threatening to become wayward from the flock correct their perilous destinations!
Seventh graders in August are like caterpillars who haven’t cocooned yet. They are still wobbling around trying to find their way. The incredible thing is that most of them will evolve by the following May into beautiful butterflies of various brightness. Resisting temptation, their teachers will abstain from squashing a select few!
Last week most of the seventh grade flock headed towards the green acres of educational grazing, but there were a few who seemed drawn to the brier patch. I’ll call them “the warts of seventh grade”, the oddities who stand out like a bald man wearing a petticoat and drain teachers of energy and patience.
There are the warts that LIKE to be noticed. When the attention of a class gets too focused on knowledge and away from them an outburst deadens the pursuit of discovery. One wart’s stainless steel water bottle redirected the attention of her class half a dozen times as she dropped it, tipped it over, and kicked it. Each drop had the same effect of someone raking their fingernails across one of those old chalkboards we used to have…back in the old days! the student squealed in glee at her ability of distract.
One boy, resembling a bad rash in the midst of academia’s complexion, must not only be ADHD, but a few more letters added onto that. Like a bug headed for a zapper, he doesn’t seem to be able to keep himself from being sent to the principal’s office.
And then there are the few who mistake their warts for being adorable freckles. Like a bad case of acne on the teenager’s face, their teachers will be applying steady applications of disciplinary Clearasil to help their classroom complexion. For an even more select few there is now Clearasil Ultra that applies even deeper forms of correction.
In August “the warts” stand out. By next spring the beauty marks will, thankfully, command more of the attention. It’s why teachers teach! They teach for what they believe will be the result towards the end of the nine month journey, the vividness of their students’ discoveries, and the hope that warts can even be transformed along the way.
Categories: children, coaching, Freedom, Grace, Humor, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: 7th Grade, butterfly, classroom, classroom distractions, cocoons, educational discovery, school classroom, Seventh Grade, seventh grade boys, seventh grade girls, seventh grade teachers, seventh graders, sheep dogs, substitute teacher, substitute teaching, teaching, teaching middle school, warts
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August 25, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. August 25, 2018
I was standing in front of the classroom of thirty-five 7th Grade students. It was the second class period of my day, having already traversed through the treacherous path of Period 1!
I partially sat down on the table in front of the classroom to begin taking attendance. I looked down at my long attendance sheet of names and noticed something else.
I was unzipped! Not just a little bit, or with partial coverage, but as wide open as a Montana range!
When the revelation of such a moment becomes known to a person several questions immediately follow: How long have I been this way? Who noticed? Who noticed, didn’t say anything to me, but is now saturating the school with the news? What do I do now?
The “what do I do now” question was easy to answer. I casually covered the front with the attendance sheet and tried to look like I was searching for someone as I made my way to the back of the classroom. Thankfully my classroom that day was located in one of the “portables” outside the school building. There are restrooms in the middle between the two classrooms. I headed for one of them and executed a quick zip!
I don’t know if anyone in that class had seen my underlying underwear, but I still turned a shade of sunburn red for a few moments.
It’s funny! I can recall three times in my lifetime when I was inconveniently unzipped. Well, anytime would be inconvenient, but three times it has occurred at the most inconvenient moments possible!
Friday was the third!
The first time it happened was a number of years ago when I was pastoring the First Baptist Church in Mason, Michigan. We hosted the annual meeting of the American Baptist Churches in our area. Representatives from about forty congregations gathered in our sanctuary. I walked to the front of the sanctuary to welcome all of the guests and to say the opening prayer. I stood on the front platform- with no pulpit to shield me, mind you- and gave words of greeting to those in the crowded sanctuary. When I finished I walked down the center aisle to the back.
And when I reached the foyer I noticed that I had, evidently, been flashing the congregation the whole time! In front of our Executive Minister, my Area Minister, others who had smiles on their faces, and a few stone-faced folk who had starched their shirt collars too much!
That event happened almost thirty years ago and I can still replay it in the nightmares of my slumber. Most of the time I’m now able to chuckle as I think about it.
The other time when, so to speak, I “opened up” to people happened in the Colorado Springs airport. I had gone to pick up my friend, Artie Powers. It was back in the days when someone picking up a passenger could still meet him at the gate. I walked down the terminal to where Artie’s plane would arrive. I noticed several women smiling at me as I strolled at a leisurely pace down the corridor.
“I must be looking pretty good today!” I thought to myself. I met Artie and as we walked back through the terminal together he said to me in his distinctive West Virginian accent, “All the cows are out to pasture!”
“Huh?”
“You’re unzipped!”
It was at that moment that I realized that the smiling women weren’t entranced by my good looks. They were humored by my cluelessness!
They say things come in threes. Well, I’m hoping that’s true! I’m considering the idea of simply wearing sweat pants with a draw string in front and no zipper…but then I’d probably have a rip in the back that would just end up revealing my Hanes from the rear!
Categories: children, coaching, Grace, Humor, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: 7th Grade, being embarrassed, clueless, embarrassing moments, embarrassment, substitute teacher, substitute teaching, the barn door is open, unzipped, zippers
Comments: 2 Comments
August 21, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. August 21, 2018
In another example of guys having a hard time keeping it in their pants, Paris has installed several public urinals along its streets. The “uritrottoir” (a combination of the French words for urinal and pavement) have been installed in various places to combat the problem of people urinating in public. (I’m not making this up!)
Now a man who can’t hold his beer can walk right up to…this thing!…that resembles a trash can, and take care of business. One of the “uritrottoirs” is located right along the Seine River. Tourists boats go up and down the river. Now they can add another “sight” to their tour.
The creator of the innovative urinal says that it offers an ecological solution to public peeing. One of the relief stations is 20 meters away from an elementary school.
Growing up in Kentucky I was accustomed to relieving myself in non-public restroom places. When our family of five drove the curvy roads between Winchester and Paintsville to visit the relatives we’d often have to pull over to the side of the two lane highway in our 1958 Ford Fairlane so that one or more of the three kids could take the pressure off. Dad would watch for cars as we stood a few feet off the road. At our Mamaw and Papaw Helton’s farm there were a number of times where, in the midst of playing outside, I stood on the foot bridge over the creek and took care of business. The outhouse was just a few feet away, but the outhouse also…had spiders and cobwebs and dark corners that six year old boys, like me, tried to keep their distance from.
But that was in rural, agricultural Kentucky!
On the “uritrottoir” there’s a drawing to demonstrate to the urinators how to…pee! The drawing is a bit humorous because no normal action of relieving oneself would look like that.
I’ll be in Paris next May, but I won’t be using the outdoor facility. I’m at an age where it’s difficult enough to just get started. Having people watching me has a negative effect on my speed. I’d be standing there for like…20 minutes and six passing tour boats!
And you can’t be inconspicuous with the “uritrottoir” because they are bright red! If you’re standing in front of one it’s like you’re shouting “Hey! Look at me!”
They even have flowers on top of them. I guess that’s like organic potpourri!
I’m just a little unsure of this “advance” in civilization. Listen! If you can’t hold it long enough until you get to the next public restroom you’ve got some real issues!
And talk about gender bias!
Categories: children, Community, Freedom, Humor, Nation, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Paris, Paris Uritrottoir, pee, peeing in public, public urinating, relieving oneself, Seine River, Urinals, urinating, Uritrottoir
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August 20, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. August 20, 2018
The allegations against Bill Hybels, Lead Pastor of the Willow Creek Community Church in the Chicago suburb of South Barrington, have caused a torrent of unrest and a flood of tears in the Christian community throughout our country. Hybels began Willow Creek back in the 1970’s and it has influenced the thinking and ministry of thousands of churches around the world.
The allegations of inappropriate flirtations and embraces that lingered too long have come in the midst of the tidal wave of other “MeToo” movement outraged voices. The accusations against Hybels have traced acts of inappropriateness back to the 1980’s.
It’s sad! It’s sad for everyone that has had to speak in this tragedy, from accusers to accused to church leaders to the two people who had already been named to succeed him as pastor, and who now have had to back out of their decisions.
I’ve read several books that Bill wrote, attended a few Willow Creek services, been a Global Leadership Summit conferee, and referred back over the years to lectures from those Summits that Hybels gave.
And now the church of Jesus Christ has its mouth open in disbelief! Questions thunder from the pews. Was it all a farce, a big show with no substance? When he was seeking to attract unchurched people to attend Willow Creek what were his true motives?
When leaders fall questions abound. We want our leaders to be above reproach. In fact, when a leader with a great personality has accusations hurled at him/her most of the followers initially react defensively in support of the accused.
Side step! We all fail and fall. When a leader we follow fails, however, it’s similar to when we were kids and heard a rumor that Santa Claus isn’t real. We refused to believe it until some of our friends confirmed the suspicions. We don’t want our leaders to be fallible!
Back to the blog road! When people idolize certain personalities they tend to not see the impending avalanche until it’s too late.
There are those people who are cynical and skeptical about everything…and there are those people who would believe the earth is flat if a certain person said it.
So…in recent months big-time football coaches, famous actors, politicians, mega church pastors, priests, denominational leaders, film directors, civic leaders, other professional athletes, and CEO’s have been held responsible for past actions. Accusations have been made against our current president, but his supporters have been acting as shields in defense of him. We’re not sure yet how that one will play out.
When followers become disillusioned with those they’ve believed in, it leaves a mixture of apathy and outrage in its wake. Who is speaking the truth if the truth tellers are found to be suspect?
A conflicted form of grief fogs in our understanding of how life is to be lived and how the world operates. And where there is grief there must be a chapter of healing- slow and painful, seeking to find that firm place to step onto.
And, finally, where there is grief over what has been and what is there will be the ripple effects of loss and revision. Things will change. The people who journeyed in the caravan known as “church” will not be the same. The disillusioned will seek to find different kinds of oases and we can only look at them and say “We understand!”
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Jesus, love, Nation, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, Teamwork, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: accusations, Bill Hybels, disgraced, disgraced leaders, fallen leaders, fallen nature, fallible, Global Leadership Summit, idolizing, inappropriate actions, Romans 3:23, sexual allegations, sexual assault, sin, Willow Creek
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August 19, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. August 19, 2018
Our oldest daughter, Kecia, and her husband, Kevin, ran in “The Beast” this weekend in Breckenridge, Colorado. The Beast is about a half-marathon, but includes a multitude of obstacles and challenges throughout, like climbing walls, jumping through mud, and walking on hot coals! Okay, just kidding on the hot coals part!
Meanwhile Grammy and Granddad did another form of The Beast at home. We kept the three grandkids- ages 3, 7, and 10! Like our daughter and son-in-law we also had a multitude of challenges and obstacles. Our challenges included keeping the house from looking like a war zone, teeth brushing time, meltdown moments, and striving for most of the food on their plates to actually be eaten.
It’s Sunday morning and I’m “on break” at Starbucks at 7 AM before heading back to the fray and facing the next obstacle of getting everyone in the car to drive 45 minutes to Simla, Colorado for church. The ride home from there will be comparable to coming down the home stretch of our “marathon grandparenting” race! I’m doubting that there will be a water station and available Powerade at the finish line! That’s okay, we just need a bed!
Carol and I love our “grands”, even hoping for more! We also recognize that we’ve both been like “grandparenting sprinters”, not marathoners. We’re used to two hour stints, not 48 hour ultra events. Like an actual marathon it has been a weekend of exhilaration and exhaustion.
Like the three year old singing with revised lyrics as she played with Play-Doh.
“This old man, he had three; he had three on my knick-knack…and a knick-knack patio, give a dog a home, this old man comes running home.”
Or our ten year old grandson watching an international fencing competition on TV and figuring out the scoring system they use.
And our seven year old helping her little sister, and playing “McDonald’s drive-thru lane” with her.
On the exhaustion side there was bedtime! But bedtime at the grandparent’s house is seen as being more like a sleepover, full of giggling and getting their second wind. There’s a lot of movement and talking..and movement…and “I want a drink of water”…and movement…and threat of being duct taped to the bed…and crying…and finally…finally sleep! During the night, however, like chess pieces, there’s a rearranging of where each of the slumberers ends up by Saturday morning.
Last night Carol looked at me and said “I don’t remember being this tired when we were raising our three kids.”
“We’re out of shape, dear! A bit flabby in the grandparent mid-section!”
On the positive, we took them to Noodles for Saturday night dinner and each one of them ate EVERYTHING on their plates…well, except for what the three year old dropped on the floor beside her chair! I ordered an extra plate of pot stickers because they were still hungry!
When I was growing up my parents would take my brother, my sister, and me to our Mamas and Papaw Helton’s for a week in the summertime. They had a farm in the eastern part of Kentucky. If nothing else this weekend has given me a new appreciation for their stamina, patience, and strength.
And they had 12 grandkids! I feel a bit wimpy and weak being exhausted by three!
I’ll try to be in better shape for the next “Beast”. Kecia and Kevin are doing another race for insane people in a month. They’ll be gone a little longer next time, so for us it will be like doing the grandparenting “Ultra Beast”!
One thing’s for certain for that next time! We’ll be at Noodles again!
Categories: children, coaching, Grandchildren, Humor, love, marriage, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: bedtime, grandchild, grandchildren, granddad, granddaughters, grandfather, grandkids, grandma, grandparents, marathons, meltdowns, Noodles, Play-Doh, sleepovers, Starbucks, The Beast
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