It is Finished

Congrulations to Josh Hamilton 4 HR Game...

Tears Optional: Laughter Required

Some of our most harrowing moments as families are the ones that are often the cause the most laughter on the day after. Laughter heals the bumps and bruises of this unpredictable blessing called life. We can remember that even in difficult moments, joy and laughter are right in the middle of the mess. As we laugh, the Holy Spirit whispers that we are going to be OK.

If you want to learn about angels, have sons each one requires a host of them. Sons are daring, amazing, unpredictable, gallant, blessed and require Febreze®. I have witnessed breath-taking stunts, barbaric duels, and drum solos that would rival any Rush concert in length and volume. Our fourth son was born on August 29th, 1996.  The world has never been the same for me since that day.  We named him Caleb because he had three older brothers so we knew he would be fighting in a land of giants.

I didn’t know if he would live to see 13 after so many rescues and close calls. As a toddler, He could be out of our sight in 5.3 seconds and send relatives trudging through forests, flea markets, pumpkin patches and retail malls looking for him. The police have been called on a few occasions looking for the two year old with a white patch of hair and a training diaper running through undiscovered territories with the wonder of Narnia. He’s the only child I know who has ever gotten stuck inside a recliner so completely that the parent had to call 911.  I’m not making it up.  It’s true. Imagine how my wife felt when she had to say the words- “We have a toddler who is stuck in our recliner.”

He captured his first squirrel before he ever thought of being potty-trained. When asked at the age of 9 what he wanted to do when he grew up, he said, “A policeman or a preacher, but if I can’t do any of that I’ll probably just be a rock star.” The scope of his chaos was limitless at an early age. He was born in Nashville but he must have some roots in Tasmania.

This year, Caleb joined the wrestling team and my life took another unpredicted turn. If you have a child in wrestling, you know- practices every day, rolling up the mat after every practice, bodies are flying everywhere, nose bleeds, jumping jacks, head gear, and a coach with the intensity of a spider monkey.

In fact, we just got back from our first tournament. Rising before dawn, we swam through the mass of wrestlers (or wrastlers if you’re from Tennessee) to find our team. There must have been 500 wrestlers in that gym. Caleb’s name was called to appear on mat 25. I watched nervously, praying for a good experience.    It wasn’t. Caleb faced a kid who already had underarm hair. Caleb fought valiantly and avoided being pinned but lost the match.  He never got a chance to even get on top of the guy.  As soon as the handshakes were over, Caleb ran away from the mat and went under the bleachers. My heart sank and I was left with the dilemma all parents have in times like these- what to say. What I would say has the potential of helping him through this or scarring him for life, I thought. I rushed out of the stands and found him in the dark cave of the musty bleachers. He covered his face with his hands. I had forgotten all the pep talks I’d ever heard and started an awkward, rambling sentence. Caleb stopped me and said, “Dad, just go away.” I obeyed.  They called his name for the next match and he returned with fiery vengeance and pinned his next opponent in less than 30 seconds.

   On the way home we laughed at our day of ups and downs: his futile attempts to get out from under the kid with underarm hair, my Barney Fife babbling to his momentary meltdown and all things that happened to us when we didn’t know what we were doing (like being a father and being a wrestler.) We laughed because we had conquered a new first and we were both going to be OK. Laughter is indeed a medicine that can cure worried parents, disappointing defeats, and any nasty half-nelson on a Saturday morning wrestling match.

Addictions

Imagine being in a dessert

Thirsty

Alone

Craving relief from the stress of that need

The longing for hope

The failed attempts to get there

To make sense of the journey

But you are tired and hopeless

This is the core of addiction

Most of us don’t like the word addiction

Most of us think addiction is a term reserved for those whose lives appear to be wrecked

We think of people living in the alleys and under the bridges of our society.

We think of the person who will do anything for the next fix

The next rush.

But me?

No.  I’m not that kind of person.

I have a few habits

We say to ourselves

But I am in control

My life is manageable.

But let’s be honest

We are all capable of losing it all because of our need for a painkiller

There’s the lonely housewife that finds her escape through food

The student who is addicted to pseudo relationships online.

The committed church member who carries the guilt and shame of pornography wondering if everything will collapse around him if he’s ever found out.

All around us there are people who indulge in their drug of choice everyday call gossip.

Some of us are addicted to the mind-numbing sedative of TV, sports, reality shows.

Instead of living our lives we watch others live out their lives on television.

Some of us are addicted to power and we’ll risk everything to control other people- even our relationship with God.

We’ve all known someone who became emotionally addicted to a relationship that ended their marriage.  Sex wasn’t there but the affair was real. And now their spouse and children are living through the shame and devastation of broken trust.

There’s that bottle in the second drawer of the office credenza

The painkillers hidden in the medicine cabinet

None of us want to admit that we aren’t healthy.

We’re afraid of someone finding out that our lives are out of control.

So we place everything sacred- our relationships, our marriages, our kids and our faith on the altar of addiction.

Years of despair

Hollow stare

Wasted life

Endless strife

Cloak of shame

A mindless game

This is the life of addiction

The wounded soul

No longer whole

Secrets kept

lonliness

But there is a better way.

It’s called today

Maybe instead of just accepting the well worn path of destruction and failure

Maybe take the path of courage.  It’s not easy.  It will take work.  It could be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But it might just save your life

Its called choosing sobriety instead of denial.

It’s called grace.

It’s called surrender. 

Mundane details

Went to Hendersonville Hospital after dropping Caleb off.  Checked on Joanne Johnson who is in surgery.  Spent time in the prayer room and now it's time to put Sunday together.

back from the walk

2 miles around the neighborhood and 1 mile on the tread mill.  I'm excited tonight to get a good nights rest.  I've got one-on-ones at the jail tomorrow.  I'm always exhausted when I get back from those.  I have about 10 prisoners than are still in the program.  

I'm doing reseach on addiction for the sermon Sunday.

Day off

I did absolutely nothing today other than a few household chores.  I was getting a bit stressed after all the busyness of work.  I'm about to take the dog on a big walk that will be good for both of us.  I've been walking around 2 miles a day.  We run into a number of our dog friends along the way- most confined by an invisible fence.  I'm sure that's frustrating for them as we gloat on the other side of the road.