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Story Toes

November 23, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                            November 23, 2016

                                             

I sat down on the couch to survey the crew. The crew consisted of our three grandkids: eight year old Jesse involved in a game of Super Mario Brothers; Corin (Rennie) scampering around the room as fast as a 20 month old body can go; and five year old Reagan whose attention was focused on the fact that her grandfather thought he was going to relax for a couple of minutes.

“Tell me a story, Granddad!”, she demanded as she plopped down on the couch beside me and draped her feet over my lap. “Tell me a story using my toes!”

A few weeks ago I was telling a story to her and Jesse from the same couch seat and I grabbed their feet as a visual aid to help me tell it. She giggled and giggled as I told the made up story about little piggies.

And Reagan never forgets! Her enjoyment in something translates into it becoming a tradition…thus two feet staring up at me with their multi-colored striped outfits!

“What story should I tell you? How about a story about a little worm named Squiggly?”

“Yes! Tell me a story about Squiggly!” Her toes wiggled in anticipation.

“Once upon a time there was a worm named Squiggly who decided he was a big enough worm to leave his Mommy Worm and crawl around by himself.”
“And did he have brothers and sisters?” Reagan likes to know all the details in any story I tell that I happen to be making up on the fly!

“Yes, he had many brothers and sisters, but he was the oldest worm child, so all of his worm siblings were still at home with Mommy Worm. So Squiggly said goodbye to his mom, they wrapped themselves around each other in one final worm hug, and off he went crawling through the dirt to discover what was on the other side of the mud patch.

“His mom probably missed him.”

“I’m sure she did. Your mom would miss you if you moved away, wouldn’t she?”

“I’m only five, Granddad!”, she informed me as she did the eye roll thing.

“Yes, I know…well, anyway, back to the story! Squiggly slowly crawled away, whistling his favorite worm song, “Way Up High In An Apple Tree.” He was all wiggly with excitement about the new places he was going to discover.”

“He probably misses his mommy.”

“Probably! After he had crawled across the mud patch and into the weed forest on the other side he got to thinking to himself, “I’d better find some place to sleep before nightfall.” He thought about the warmth of his mommy and remembered that he had left his worm blanket back at home. He got to thinking about the chilly darkness that would soon be upon him with no mom or snug covering to keep him warm.”

“He didn’t plan very well.”

“So he looked all around and around and finally…finally…he found a nice place that looked like it would be cozy and warm and almost like home.”

“Where was it?”
“It was right between two toes of a little girl named Reagan.” I burrowed one of my fingers between two of her toes and she squealed with tickling laughter. “Yes, it was right between two little toes,” I explained as she quivered with giggling. She pulled her feet off of my lap and hopped down to the floor. Her sister stared at her with a smile on her face.

About the time I took my next breath she was back on the couch, settling her feet into their place across my lap once again.

“And then what, Granddad?” For Reagan “story toes” have many chapters and episodes…and giggles!

Categories: children, Grandchildren, Humor, love, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized
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The Morning After…Watching The Grandkids

August 2, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                          August 2, 2016

                              

It’s the morning after supervising the three grandchildren for ten hours. I’m feeling the effects!

First of all, there’s my speech pattern! I’m talking in one and two word phrases, and repeating them two or three times. For instance, I stood in front of the refrigerator this morning looking at the containers of orange and apple juice and saying to myself “Juice! Juice! Juice!” I said it non-audibly to my inner self, but I said it with the voice of my sixteen month old granddaughter.

The morning proceeded.

“Waffle! Waffle! Waffle!”

“Keys! Keys! Keys!”

“Coffee! Coffee! Coffee!”

I’m afraid I’ll carry this toddler stream of repetitive verbiage too far. How will Carol react when she comes home from an errand and I greet her with “Hi Wife! Hi Wife!”? Or what if I discover the Half-and-Half container at Starbucks is empty and I carry the container to the counter shouting “Cream! Cream! Cream!”? I may never be able to go back to that Starbucks where I’ve been seen as a responsible adult for the last several years.

Really! Really! Really!

I’m looking at Pike’s Peak right now and saying to myself “Big! Big! Big!” This afternoon when I lay down for a nap I just hope I don’t whine “Pac-i!” Pac-i! Pac-i!”, as in “pacifier!”

The second after effect is my body whining to me. My lower back is reminding me that I’m not a young man anymore. Every time the grand baby looked up at me and said “Up! Up! Up!”, I obliged. Is there rehab therapy for grandparents? My arm muscles feel like I’ve done a full weight training workout at the Y.M.C.A. Actually, it has just been a day of squat thrusts and arm curls with a twenty-two pound weight! I thought I would sleep soundly last night out of exhaustion, but instead I tossed and turned in pain. I’m hoping I have the strength to fix lunch!, lunch!, lunch! I’m now speaking to myself again and thinking of my massage therapist, Jackie Landers. “Massage! Massage! Massage!”

Finally, the third after effect is a different kind of feeling whatsoever. It’s a feeling…a realization of blessedness! In the midst of one word demands and tried muscles I know without a doubt that I am a blessed man, a graced granddad! As I wrote in a blog post a few days ago, I am in marvel of the little ones! They make me feel young at heart even as I feel the age of  my body. I actually get a little emotional thinking about them.

Today is our five year old granddaughter Reagan’s first day of kindergarten. Jesse, our eight year old grandson starts third grade. They amaze me even as they cause me to need a nap. They have amazing parents who keep them grounded in the Word, on-course with figuring out what is appropriate and what isn’t, and immersed in unconditional love.

So even as my speech pattern has changed today and my body has gone south I wouldn’t change anything. To my heavenly Father I say the two words that the toddler does not repeat, but rather only says once as I hand her the sip cup full of juice.

“Thank you!”

 

Categories: children, Christianity, Grace, Grandchildren, Humor, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
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The Marvel of Little Ones

July 30, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                         July 30, 2016

                                     

I am a grandfather…three times over! An 8 year old professor in the making, a five year old CEO, and a 16 month old politician. The past two days “Grammy”, our dear Michigan friend Janet, and I have been watching the Three Miniature Musketeers since our fourth grade teaching daughter “Mom” went back to begin the new school year. Since my grandson often dresses up as Superman, Ironman, Batman, or Captain America I guess it would be more appropriate to refer to the three as “The Avengers!”

The two older kids entertain one another most of the time. We just have to be the Supreme Court Justices for decisions that can’t be resolved through sibling negotiations.

But the 16 month old! She is the Energizer Bunny with a diaper on!

And I marvel at her! I am amazed at just about everything she does, including the amount of poop that can fill her diaper! How can so much come out of someone so small?

I am amazed at how she can go from laughter to having a tantrum in the space of a few seconds…and then back again!

I am amazed at how she greets me with her pronunciation of “Granddad” every time I arrive in the room after being gone for…Ohhh!…maybe two minutes.

She amazes me with her determination, carrying around the handbag her mom has passed down to her. The handbag is about half her size, and she is determined to lift it and place it on the couch that comes up to her chest. Grunting all the way, she stays on task until it is heaved on to the couch…and then she promptly takes it back down, walks around for a few seconds, and then repeats the whole task again.

I am amazed at how relational she is. She is drawn to where the person or persons are, and when she is in the room she garners all the attention.

I am amazed at her capacity for mimicking. Grammy said the word “pizza” while she was in the room- not to her, mind you!- and she voiced her agreement with the word by shouting “PIZZA!” When her brother and sister dance in the middle of the living room, she dances. When her brother sits and reads she is prone to sit and “kind-a read”, also.

She stuns me with her understanding of boundaries. She stands in front of the DVD player and video game system and says to no one in particular “No no!” as she shakes her head.

I’m taken back by her impatience. She sits in my lap as I read a book to her, but if the pages aren’t turning fast enough she turns them for me…and even takes the book and throws it down! That’s my clue that we are done with that one! “Move on, Granddad!”

I am amused at how I can be her personal playground, as in climbing tree! Slap a sign on me that says “Jungle Gym!”

And what occurred to me in the midst of my two days of amazement was the fact that our Father God is just as amazed at everything each one of us does! God is still amazed at what a 62 year old grandfather does…good and bad! He is amused by our humor, and amazed by our words of wisdom. He’s taken back by our ability to figure out situations, make mistakes and learn from them. His heart is warmed by the depth of our relationships, and the care we offer to one another. He’s taken back by the amount of crap that is a part of our lives!

In many ways my amazement about everything our 16 month old granddaughter does is a reflection of how our Creator sees each one of us. He closely watches because he deeply loves!

Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Grandchildren, Humor, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Uncategorized
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Driving the Car With A Back Seat Full of Grandkids

April 21, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                           April 20, 2016

                      

Strapped in, buckled up, and securely fastened.

Carol and I drove the “Wolfe Bus”, disguised as a Honda Accord, down the road. The back seat was at capacity with three grandchildren. They looked like three kids locked into their roller coaster seats waiting for the ride to start.

A thirteen month old named Corin (Rennie for short); a five year old CEO named Reagan; and the eldest child straight from soccer practice, seven year old Jessie. “Grammy” and I didn’t have to worry about conversation. The back seat competed for it!

“Jessie, you can’t have any Cheetos, because I ate them all!”

“Reagan!”

“You can have Cheerios.”

“Da…Da!”

“Great!” he replied with seven year old sarcasm. “Grammy, did Reagan eat all the Cheetos?”

“Yes, but, Jessie, there weren’t very many left in the bag.”

“But I ate them all and you can have Cheerios.”

I contributed to the conversation: “Reagan!” (said with a semi-stern parental tone to it)

“Da…Ba..Ba!”

“Corin said she saw me eat all the Cheetos.”

“That’s not what she said.”

“Then what did she say? I’m sitting beside her and that’s what I heard her say.”

“She said, “Da…Ba…Ba!”

“Da…Da…Ba…Ca…Da!”

“I told you she said Cheetos.”

“Whatever!”

“Grammy, where are we going for dinner?”

“Home!”

“Da…Ba…Ca…Ca!”

“Corin says we should go to Cracker Barrel.”

Grammy looked at me with eyes that were rolling. “Reagan, are you Corin’s interpreter today?”

“Yes, when she has something to say she tells me and I let everyone else know.”

“Wow! Does she tell you to change her diaper?”

“No, she tells me to tell you to change her diaper, but she’s okay right now.”

“Ca…Ca…Blah!”

“Granddad, I finished reading those books you got for me.”

“Encyclopedia Brown?”

“Yes!”

“That’s awesome, Jessie! You read them really fast.”

Not to be moved out of the spotlight: “We learned the letter “Z” at Lil’ Sprouts yesterday. Do you want to hear it?”

“Sure, Reagan!” Grammy replied.

“Zebra, zoo, zookeeper, zoom, zig-zag.”

“That’s awesome, Reagan!”

“Z is the last letter in the alphabet.”

“Za…Ba…Za!”

Jessie giggled. “Corin is saying Z!”

Granddad humor: “I guess you could say that is the end of things.”

Confused silence!

“Ba…DaDa…Blah!”

Categories: children, Grandchildren, Humor, love, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
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Feeling Blessed

January 10, 2016

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                      January 10, 2016

                                         

It’s January 10, nineteen degrees outside, but I’m sitting inside a warm Starbucks sipping my Pike Place.

It’s a day when I’m feeling blessed!

Understand that I’m not feeling blessed because I feel good. My neck and shoulders have been tight and “feeling old” since last night, my nose is as congested as LA morning traffic, and my knees are feeling the effects of officiating a Friday night college game and four 5th grade instructional league games Saturday morning.

In essence, my body says go back to bed with three heating pads.

But I am feeling blessed because of the realization of what really is important and the understanding of what isn’t.

Family is important. This past week I got to hang out with my nine month old granddaughter. You know…read some books, played with a plastic piggy bank that makes music and swine noises, shared some food and bottles…normal stuff! I got to take my wife out for dinner last night, sit across from one another and talk about our days. She had been to a funeral for a seventeen year old, and I had coached fifteen year olds. We sat sharing the pain and the laughter.

Faith is important. I’m not listing it after family because it is less vital. It’s almost one of those things that doesn’t even need to be said, but I’ll say it anyway. Faith is important. Faith that God has this crazy life under control. That he doesn’t need a million Facebook “likes” to proceed with his plan, and be about his ways. I’m blessed because he is faithful regardless of how I’m feeling, and for many of us our faith fluctuates according to how emotionally up or down we are. In recent weeks I’ve had a number of conversations with people who have been on faith journeys for long periods of time. My soul has been blessed by the words and experiences of their faith journeys.

I’m blessed because of the relationships I have with so many people. I know that if I had a need for a listening ear, a heartache to share, or a celebration to toast that there are numerous folk I can dial up and they would be there. I’m blessed because I see that same quality of being present in my wife. The funeral she attended was for a son of a lady she has worked with. The empathy for her friend was obvious. Relationships bless us!

I’m blessed because, simply said, I’m the recipient of so many blessings. So often we fail to consider that.

So I sit in Starbucks #1 (my primary Starbucks hangout place), sipping on my second cup, staring at Pike’s Peak, and understanding the depth of my blessings.

Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Grandchildren, Humor, Jesus, love, marriage, Parenting, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church
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Popcorn Stories

October 5, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                            October 5, 2015

                                                 

My four year old granddaughter, Reagan, has a creative streak about her. I think most four year olds do, until stressed-out grown-ups tell them to conform to the norm. You know…color between the lines, not outside the lines!

Thankfully Reagan has a a mom and dad who encourage creativity…so whenever Reagan is in the car with me after I’ve picked her up from her pre-kindergarten for four year olds we have a unique kind of story time on the car ride to the next destination.

She calls it “popcorn stories”, because you’re never quite sure what’s going to pop up.

The way it works is she tells me what the story is to be about. Lately, she’s been fixated on a goat named “Billy”, a little boy named “Billy” (Billy the Kid!), and a fox.

I begin the story with those things in mind, and then when I say “Popcorn!” she picks up the story from there until she says “Popcorn!”, and then it’s back to me.

That back-and-forth goes on until we reach our destination.

It’s amazing the plot twists and turns that can happen in a ten minute car ride between an AARP member and a four year old.
Billy the Kid got captured by the mean old fox…Popcorn!

And the fox strung him up by his ankles until he was ready to eat him…Popcorn!

And the fox was listening to some of his favorite music…foxtrot…and fell asleep with his fox Beats wireless headphones on. He dreamed of running freely through fields of grain, and his own swimming pool…Popcorn!

Meanwhile Billy Goat was combing the hairs on his chin because they had tangles on them, and he decided to have a peanut butter sandwich with banana slices and pickles. And then he said “I wonder where Billy the Kid is!” I thought he was going to have lunch with me…Popcorn!

Stop!

Reagan and I have dealt with tornados, squeaky mice, mean little boys, pumpkin patches, and squiggly worms. You’re never quite sure where the story is going to take us, or how it’s going to turn out.

Each of us has just half of the story! We rely on one another to help row the boat down the stories stream.

I’m sure she will grow our of it after a while…hopefully, not too quickly…but perhaps we’ll get a few novels created in the midst of our vehicle before then.

Reagan is about about the story, which tells of a different kind of book that she is writing. It’s entitled How to Wrap Your Grandfather Around Your Little Finger?”

Categories: children, Community, Grandchildren, Humor, love, Parenting, Pastor, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized
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Waiting For Three

March 9, 2015

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                         March 9, 2015

                                               

“You didn’t take any of your cough medicine yet, did you?” asked Carol, my wife.

“Yes…it’s 9:30. Why do you ask?” I had been to see my physician last week with a respiratory condition. The “happy medicine” was my compensation for housing a cold and ear infection. The “happy medicine” has codeine in it and makes rabbits appear on the ceiling in the middle of the night.

“Kecia could be going to the hospital tonight. She was having contractions pretty frequently.”

Our oldest daughter is about to deliver number three. “If she goes into labor you need to go and say with Jesse and Reagan.” (Numbers #1 and #2)

“Oh!” Profound comeback!

We’ve been waiting for Mystery Child #3 for a while. Kecia doesn’t complain much about carrying a watermelon in her tummy, but you can tell that she is at that point where there is no comfortable position. Waiting for #3 has rearranged schedules, reordered priorities, remodeled the home. #1 and #2 went to Big Sibling Class last week. They learned what it means to be a Big Brother and Big Sister. It was a refresher course for Jesse. Reagan, however, got new schooling. It hasn’t hit her yet that she will be sharing the spotlight in the coming…years. When she was two she blurted out to me one night as we were having a treat at the ice cream yogurt shop, “No, Granddad! You’re Snow White! I’m the princess!” 

Waiting for number three is a time of the family being redefined.

And we wait! As 1 Thessalonians 5 talks about the coming of the Lord will be like labor pains on a pregnant woman, they come unexpected and everything changes.

We’re not good at waiting these days. A pregnancy is a good thing for a family to go through because it lets us know that the world does not revolve around our agendas and “honey-do” lists. In this case, it revolves around someone we can’t even see yet, someone we haven’t even shared a meal with…the unseen that changes everything.

Tonight might be a short night of sleep. I’ll be tempted to take a nip of the “Baptist whiskey”, my cough medicine, but I’ll try to abstain. I may hack myself awake all night, but I’ll be ready…as I wait.

Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Humor, Jesus, love, marriage, Parenting, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized
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The Squat of Faith

July 24, 2013

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                        July 23, 2013

 

 

      Carol and I took our daughter, Kecia, and grandkids Jesse and Reagan to the hot springs pool in Glenwood Springs, Colorado recently. We had a great time, marveling at the beauty of the mountains as we drove to and from.

At the pool Jesse was  splashing around under the watchful eye of his Grammie. Reagan, on the other hand, was having a test of faith with her mom on the side of the pool. She was wrestling with what level of trust to place upon the one who gave birth to her.

“Go ahead, Reagan! Jump! I’ll catch you.”

     “I want you to come closer, Mommy!”

     “I’ll catch you. Just take a step.”

      Like me the first time I jumped off the high dive at the pool, Reagan peered over the edge of the pool with heightened doubt and apprehension. It was that moment, that we all have felt in some way, where the tipping point has not quite been reached that will take us from stationary to stepping into the unsure.

I felt that a few years ago when Kecia and my son-in-law, Kevin, convinced me to ride a crazy man’s roller coaster at Cedar Point Amusement Park in Sandusky, Ohio. Top Thrill Dragster was thirteen seconds of insane faith. When they put bleachers beside an amusement park ride it is a bad sign for someone who isn’t quite convinced that the tipping point is worth the risk.

“It’s okay, Reagan! I’ll catch you.”

Reagan looked skeptical of her mother’s catching power, but she started to take the step…but bailed out.

More encouragement, more promises. She started to take the step again, but then at the last moment she went to a squat. Squatting brought her closer to her mom’s hands. She reached out with her own hands, touched the hands in waiting, and then stepped.

A squat of faith. Not quite the same fear factor that a step of faith requires, bit still a moving from dry to wet.

Sometimes steps have to be preceded by squats. For Reagan an hour of faith squats was required before a step of faith happened.

I had to leave the pool for a while, but when I came back the squats had disappeared and the leaps of faith had begun. Sometime in my absence the step of faith had been jumped over.

In church life there are the initiators, those who present an idea or leap into a new direction. Most churches have a few, if that many, people who would be classified in that group. Then there are the early adopters. Those people who take the step after someone else has initiated the idea. The third group is perhaps the largest group. They are the late adopters. They are the ones who need to squat before they step. Getting closer to the outstretched hands is imperative for them before they can take the leap.

My granddaughter taught me that squatting is okay. It’s like the sixteen year old driving the family car with her dad in the passenger seat…in an empty school parking lot when there isn’t a car within sight. It’s the phase she needs to go through to get comfortable with the challenge ahead.

Ultimately, the step has to be taken, but Reagan reminded me that some things don’t need to be rushed into.

Now watch! I’ll say that and she will end up being a ski jumper! Come to think of it, they kind of get into a squat position before they launch!

Scary!

Categories: children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom
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Walking With Reagan

July 8, 2013

My two year old granddaughter, Reagan (Not named after the President!), is a talker. She can talk the feathers off a rooster! She says more words in a minute than I do in a day.

The other night I went for a walk with her around the block. We covered more ground than Ripley’s Believe It Or Not. Here’s a sampling of our dialogue…all within the boundaries of one city block.

“I’m hopping like a kanga-woo, Granddad!”

“Did you see a kangaroo at the zoo?”

“No…we saw a giwaffe! It has a long neck and is wiwwie tall!”

“Do you like going to the zoo?”

“Yes! A kanga-woo is a jo-wey!”

“That’s right! Sometimes they call kangaroos joeys.”

“Grammy hurt her leg. Grammy has a hurt on it, wight there!” (Pointing at her right calf muscle.)

“Ah huh!”

“I don’t have a hurt on my leg! Grammy does!”

“Look the sky looks a little dark over there.”

“I’m not scared, Granddad. It’s dark at night, but I’m not scared anymore.”

“That’s good! Sometimes it can be scary in the dark.”

“But I’m not scared. Do you like wata-mewon?”

“Yes, I love watermelon! When I was growing up we had watermelon in the summer. It was my favorite!”

“I like it! Did Grammy have watt-mewon?”

“I believe she did.”

“There’s a little girl that bwoke her arm.”

“Broke her arm. Who broke her arm?”

“This little girl! She fell and bwoke it, and she cried because it hurt.”

“I hope you never break your arm.”

“I won’t! Now I’m hopping like a bunny rabbit!”

We turned the first corner, but she had already pretended to be two animals. It’s hard to put into words a conversation with a two-year old, but I guess you could say it was “wundaful!”

Categories: children, Community, Freedom
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