I Miss My Dad 1-9-2003
I miss talking to my Dad. I could talk to Dad for hours. For most of my adult life I lived far enough from Dad that I would have to call him on the phone to talk to him. More often than not, I would call him only when I felt troubled, burdened or depressed. I would share whatever burden, woe, or trouble that was bothering me. He would listen, ask questions, listen some more and usually end our conversation by asking, “So why did you call?” I would answer, “Just to hear your opinions.” He would respond, “But I didn’t give you any.”
Yes, just by letting me talk, he would lead me into solving my own problems. Oh, sometimes he would offer advice. Sometimes I would even take it. But for the most part, he helped by just being there.
Bunny is always there for me, too. She will listen, ask questions, and listen some more. She will offer advice and sometimes I will even take it. I love her for that. But I miss my Dad. He was so removed from my daily life that he would see things through different eyes. An incident that I felt passionate about would be something he could not understand why I felt so passionate. He would often let me see my world in a different perspective. That provided balance in my life. For example, I would be very upset by the unfairness of a new tax. He would remind me that I should be thankful to be able to pay taxes – that meant that I had a job and earned money and I lived in a free country that required money to operate, etc. I would complain about the high cost of disposable diapers and he would remind me that I should thank God I have a child to diaper. I would complain that I had to memorize 20 Bible verses for Confirmation class and he would remind me that someday I might be in a hospital and those Bible passages would provide comfort in a time of distress. His words came true just 12 years later.
Dad is now in heaven. But I talked to him the other day. The traffic was backed up, the radio was off and I started a monologue with Dad. I shared with him the joys of the holiday season. I told him about our daughter Becky and how she is a very caring surgical room nurse. I filled him in on Bob and Lori expecting a baby in March and how Rich had a new apartment. I shared the letter I received from the Dean that complimented Russell on his fine academic record. I shared Bunny’s progress. I then spent lots of time talking to him about what was happening in my life. I talked, the traffic crept forward, I talked some more.
Then it struck me. I was no longer talking to my Dad, but I was talking to my Father – my Heavenly Father. I prayed for another thirty minutes. When I got out of the truck at home, I was emotionally drained, but at ease. My muscles were tired, but I was at peace. I walked into the house and heard Bunny’s sweet voice humming, “What A Friend We Have In Jesus.”
I miss my Dad, but my Father is always there
Yes, just by letting me talk, he would lead me into solving my own problems. Oh, sometimes he would offer advice. Sometimes I would even take it. But for the most part, he helped by just being there.
Bunny is always there for me, too. She will listen, ask questions, and listen some more. She will offer advice and sometimes I will even take it. I love her for that. But I miss my Dad. He was so removed from my daily life that he would see things through different eyes. An incident that I felt passionate about would be something he could not understand why I felt so passionate. He would often let me see my world in a different perspective. That provided balance in my life. For example, I would be very upset by the unfairness of a new tax. He would remind me that I should be thankful to be able to pay taxes – that meant that I had a job and earned money and I lived in a free country that required money to operate, etc. I would complain about the high cost of disposable diapers and he would remind me that I should thank God I have a child to diaper. I would complain that I had to memorize 20 Bible verses for Confirmation class and he would remind me that someday I might be in a hospital and those Bible passages would provide comfort in a time of distress. His words came true just 12 years later.
Dad is now in heaven. But I talked to him the other day. The traffic was backed up, the radio was off and I started a monologue with Dad. I shared with him the joys of the holiday season. I told him about our daughter Becky and how she is a very caring surgical room nurse. I filled him in on Bob and Lori expecting a baby in March and how Rich had a new apartment. I shared the letter I received from the Dean that complimented Russell on his fine academic record. I shared Bunny’s progress. I then spent lots of time talking to him about what was happening in my life. I talked, the traffic crept forward, I talked some more.
Then it struck me. I was no longer talking to my Dad, but I was talking to my Father – my Heavenly Father. I prayed for another thirty minutes. When I got out of the truck at home, I was emotionally drained, but at ease. My muscles were tired, but I was at peace. I walked into the house and heard Bunny’s sweet voice humming, “What A Friend We Have In Jesus.”
I miss my Dad, but my Father is always there
I Love Food 1-16-2003
Bunny tells me, “I eat to live, you live to eat.” Yes, I enjoy food. I enjoy lots of different varieties of food – Mexican, Italian, French, Chinese, Thai, Korean, German, and most any other country’s. I do, however, have some preferences. For example, salad is not food – salad is what food eats. Any body part used to process food is not food. (gizzards, tongue, brain, stomach, liver, kidneys and other such body parts are best used for fertilizer – in my opinion.) Also, I will not eat Jell-O in any shape, form or function. (I spent too many days eating hospital Jell-O.) With those three exceptions, I will usually try anything once.
Most of the major events in my life involve food. Every holiday, birthday, anniversary, Baptism, Confirmation, wedding and funeral gives me memories of a special meal. Most of the fun of Thanksgiving is found in the kitchen. Christmas cookies comprise a big part of Christmas. (This year I mastered Chocolate Mouse cookies with cute red licorice tails.) Easter must have ham and a lamb cake. The funeral meal seems to be a part of the grieving/healing process – lots of good memories are shared over pieces of pie. I gave Bunny her diamond ring after chateaubriand for two at Top of the Rock restaurant in Chicago.
I see many categories of food. There is comfort food – food I eat when I feel down. Chocolate is always good. Buttered popcorn is a winner. There is celebration food – food we fix for special occasions. Cake is a natural. There is fancy food – food we fix to impress. Anything with a two-syllable name fits here. There is finger food – God made fingers before forks. Little children have the best grip on finger food. Then there is down-home-cooking food – food that tastes best served from the top of the stove or fresh from the oven. Fried chicken, pot roast, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob are my favorites in this category.
I enjoy making food – spaghetti, sloppy Joes and meatloaf are what I do best. I can do roasts, hams, chicken, and other assorted meals, but I excel at omelettes. I am also excellent on anything I can prepare over an outside fire. If it fits on a grill, I can fix it. Fire is my friend.
So what meal is your Most Unforgettable? Do you remember the food or the company? Is it the presentation or the presence that makes a meal unforgettable?
Mine happened shortly after our first child was born. Bunny wasn’t working and the paycheck wasn’t stretching. We were a few meals the wrong side of payday when Bunny made a feast. She mixed up some flour and water, other magic stuff, a little shortening and voila – a pie crust. She sprinkled the crust with cinnamon sugar and we feasted on pie dough crackers washed down with Kool-Aid. That was a great meal. What made it so unforgettable? We realized that day God will and does provide for our needs. It was the three of us sharing a gift from God. It was fun and laughter as we said, “Someday we will look back on this and laugh.” It was the make-believe, “Here, honey, another piece of steak?” It was family sharing. It was unforgettable.
The other Most Unforgettable meal I have had was my first communion. I shook when I took the bread. I could hardly swallow the wine. I received the body and blood of Christ. I shared with the family of Christ. I was fully dependent on Him.
I pray, “Give us this day our daily bread,” and He does. Sometimes it is steak, sometimes crackers, but always it is His gift.
Most of the major events in my life involve food. Every holiday, birthday, anniversary, Baptism, Confirmation, wedding and funeral gives me memories of a special meal. Most of the fun of Thanksgiving is found in the kitchen. Christmas cookies comprise a big part of Christmas. (This year I mastered Chocolate Mouse cookies with cute red licorice tails.) Easter must have ham and a lamb cake. The funeral meal seems to be a part of the grieving/healing process – lots of good memories are shared over pieces of pie. I gave Bunny her diamond ring after chateaubriand for two at Top of the Rock restaurant in Chicago.
I see many categories of food. There is comfort food – food I eat when I feel down. Chocolate is always good. Buttered popcorn is a winner. There is celebration food – food we fix for special occasions. Cake is a natural. There is fancy food – food we fix to impress. Anything with a two-syllable name fits here. There is finger food – God made fingers before forks. Little children have the best grip on finger food. Then there is down-home-cooking food – food that tastes best served from the top of the stove or fresh from the oven. Fried chicken, pot roast, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob are my favorites in this category.
I enjoy making food – spaghetti, sloppy Joes and meatloaf are what I do best. I can do roasts, hams, chicken, and other assorted meals, but I excel at omelettes. I am also excellent on anything I can prepare over an outside fire. If it fits on a grill, I can fix it. Fire is my friend.
So what meal is your Most Unforgettable? Do you remember the food or the company? Is it the presentation or the presence that makes a meal unforgettable?
Mine happened shortly after our first child was born. Bunny wasn’t working and the paycheck wasn’t stretching. We were a few meals the wrong side of payday when Bunny made a feast. She mixed up some flour and water, other magic stuff, a little shortening and voila – a pie crust. She sprinkled the crust with cinnamon sugar and we feasted on pie dough crackers washed down with Kool-Aid. That was a great meal. What made it so unforgettable? We realized that day God will and does provide for our needs. It was the three of us sharing a gift from God. It was fun and laughter as we said, “Someday we will look back on this and laugh.” It was the make-believe, “Here, honey, another piece of steak?” It was family sharing. It was unforgettable.
The other Most Unforgettable meal I have had was my first communion. I shook when I took the bread. I could hardly swallow the wine. I received the body and blood of Christ. I shared with the family of Christ. I was fully dependent on Him.
I pray, “Give us this day our daily bread,” and He does. Sometimes it is steak, sometimes crackers, but always it is His gift.
Love Notes 1-23-2003
Last Monday Bunny had a vacation day and I had to work. She spent most of the day visiting doctors, running errands and planning a special dinner for me. When I walked into the house, she greeted me with good news about her doctor visits and one of my special meals – meatloaf, scalloped potatoes and corn-on-the-cob. One of the reasons this is a favorite meal is the cold meatloaf sandwich I can enjoy the next day. As I was eating my sandwich on Tuesday, I enjoyed a happy memory of the night before. I was struck by how much love she has for me – to work so hard at preparing a special meal when she is facing trials in her own life. My heart sang as I was warmed by her love.
That was a “love note” – a special, unexpected expression of her love for me. It was not the first “love note” that I have received. My Mommy used to write me notes on the napkin she tucked into my school lunch bag. More often than not, her note was the highlight in an otherwise stressful school day. My children would give me “love notes” in the form of hand-drawn crayon pictures. These pictures would depict me with the artist in some special pursuit – Daddy and me fishing, Daddy and me smiling, etc. I treasured each and every one.
Other “love notes” I have received (and sent) include flowers, little unexpected gifts, hugs and candlelight. Some of the most memorable “love notes” are words of encouragement and praise. Nothing sounds as sweet as, “Looking good,” or “Nice job,” or “I love you,” from someone you care about. “Love notes” are appreciated and easy to send.
The other night I was experiencing pain. I wandered around the house looking for comfort. I heard Bunny praying, “Lord, please send him comfort. Please give him rest.” Her words were a very special “Love Note.”
Can we not all send “Love Notes” to our family, friends, and neighbors?
I also appreciate the “Love Notes” God sends to me. I see His love in beautiful sunrises, gorgeous sunsets, and rainbows. I feel His “Love Notes” in the embrace of a friend, the warmth of the sun on my face, and in a refreshing summer rainfall. I see His “Love Notes” in the smile of a child, the eyes of my spouse, and the faces of the congregation. I read His “Love Notes” in the scriptures. I hear His “Love Notes” in the majesty of the thunder, the laughter of a baby, and the sermon on Sunday. God Loves me – God Loves you. Let us send “Love Notes” daily.
That was a “love note” – a special, unexpected expression of her love for me. It was not the first “love note” that I have received. My Mommy used to write me notes on the napkin she tucked into my school lunch bag. More often than not, her note was the highlight in an otherwise stressful school day. My children would give me “love notes” in the form of hand-drawn crayon pictures. These pictures would depict me with the artist in some special pursuit – Daddy and me fishing, Daddy and me smiling, etc. I treasured each and every one.
Other “love notes” I have received (and sent) include flowers, little unexpected gifts, hugs and candlelight. Some of the most memorable “love notes” are words of encouragement and praise. Nothing sounds as sweet as, “Looking good,” or “Nice job,” or “I love you,” from someone you care about. “Love notes” are appreciated and easy to send.
The other night I was experiencing pain. I wandered around the house looking for comfort. I heard Bunny praying, “Lord, please send him comfort. Please give him rest.” Her words were a very special “Love Note.”
Can we not all send “Love Notes” to our family, friends, and neighbors?
I also appreciate the “Love Notes” God sends to me. I see His love in beautiful sunrises, gorgeous sunsets, and rainbows. I feel His “Love Notes” in the embrace of a friend, the warmth of the sun on my face, and in a refreshing summer rainfall. I see His “Love Notes” in the smile of a child, the eyes of my spouse, and the faces of the congregation. I read His “Love Notes” in the scriptures. I hear His “Love Notes” in the majesty of the thunder, the laughter of a baby, and the sermon on Sunday. God Loves me – God Loves you. Let us send “Love Notes” daily.
What’s The Magic Word? 1-30-2003
“You’re Welcome.” How many times a day do you hear or say that phrase? When Bunny and I toured Germany, we heard, “Bitte, Bitte,” which translates as, “You’re Welcome”; hence, I can conclude that the acknowledgement of thanks is universal. When I say “You’re Welcome” to someone, I am acknowledging the fact that they felt gratitude for what I did and it was really my pleasure to serve them. So, if I would open the door for a person loaded with packages and they say, “Thank You,” they are expressing gratitude for my service. I respond, “You’re Welcome,” which means that it was really my pleasure to serve you.
Do we really think of all that when we say “Thank You” and “You’re Welcome”? I usually don’t. I am usually thinking about something entirely different. I respond automatically. If I were to stop and think of anything, it would probably be of my mother. She instilled the “Thank You” and “You’re Welcome” responses into my vocabulary when I was a child. Proper responses were big with my mom. If someone sneezed, it was, “God bless you.” If someone belched, it was “Excuse me.” If someone gave you a gift, it was “Thank You.” If you wanted something passed, it was, “Please.” If you made a mess, it was, “I’m sorry.” (Later it became, “I’ll clean it up.”) Mom drummed those phrases into me from little on.
When I was in Texas, I noticed that some mamas were adding other phrases to children’s vocabulary. I heard a lot of “Yes, Sir” and “Yes, Ma’am.” That was nice.
All of the phrases my mother taught me revolved around a basic concept, respect. I should respect other people and treat them politely. Polite speech was part of a mannered individual. That lesson means more to me today than it did when I was a child. I catch myself wanting to correct the dialogue on TV whenever I hear a child ask for something without the “Magic Word.”
It is my opinion that one way we can stand apart as Christians is in our speech. When we use our “Please’s and Thank You’s,” we are telling those around us that we do respect them. But I believe it goes beyond just respect for one another.
As we respect one another, it is just part of how we show respect for God. God created all life. If we respect God, we respect His people.
Thank you for all you do..
Do we really think of all that when we say “Thank You” and “You’re Welcome”? I usually don’t. I am usually thinking about something entirely different. I respond automatically. If I were to stop and think of anything, it would probably be of my mother. She instilled the “Thank You” and “You’re Welcome” responses into my vocabulary when I was a child. Proper responses were big with my mom. If someone sneezed, it was, “God bless you.” If someone belched, it was “Excuse me.” If someone gave you a gift, it was “Thank You.” If you wanted something passed, it was, “Please.” If you made a mess, it was, “I’m sorry.” (Later it became, “I’ll clean it up.”) Mom drummed those phrases into me from little on.
When I was in Texas, I noticed that some mamas were adding other phrases to children’s vocabulary. I heard a lot of “Yes, Sir” and “Yes, Ma’am.” That was nice.
All of the phrases my mother taught me revolved around a basic concept, respect. I should respect other people and treat them politely. Polite speech was part of a mannered individual. That lesson means more to me today than it did when I was a child. I catch myself wanting to correct the dialogue on TV whenever I hear a child ask for something without the “Magic Word.”
It is my opinion that one way we can stand apart as Christians is in our speech. When we use our “Please’s and Thank You’s,” we are telling those around us that we do respect them. But I believe it goes beyond just respect for one another.
As we respect one another, it is just part of how we show respect for God. God created all life. If we respect God, we respect His people.
Thank you for all you do..
