The Puzzler

I've already confessed that I'm NOT the sharpest knife in the drawer, never have been, never will be.  However, God has placed into my care a delightful and artistic little princess, and she loves puzzles.  Check that: LOVES puzzles.  I do not.  Yet, since I love my daughter, I will continue to sit with her and do puzzles together.  I struggle with 12 piece puzzles, yet alone more complicated ones, but when she came into possession of a 50 piece puzzle (thanks to my wife), I looked for excuses to avoid this past time hobby.  She finally corralled me into joining her over the weekend.

 That sweet face is hard to deny when making a request.



So we worked and worked and worked on it, while also watching "Tinker Bell: The Great Fairy Rescue."  By the way, a good flick even for adult standards.  Those pieces are so small and the image is different from the actual completed puzzle (thank you puzzle maker!).  After several attempts, we finally completed it.  I must say she finished the puzzle by adding the last four pieces all in the center section.  Very proud of her creativity and artistic personality.

The completed puzzle (notice the "Cars" emblem is on different corner from the box).



All of this was achieved after I had played basketball with some men in the church.  I did better in not over extending myself in running up and down a court.  It helped that we had more men (20) so we rotated every five minutes (hallelujah!).  We had another great time, looking forward to our next adventure in two weeks.

Last pic of Mary talking me into going to Dunkin Donuts before preschool.  Not that it takes much to convince me of going there...love their coffee!

Love that Goes the Distance

Since it's Valentine's Day and the nation is all a flutter with romantic ideas and conceptions of love, I wanted to take just a moment and share through my personal convictions.  I was raised in a home filled with love.  From grandparents, to parents, to aunts and uncles, to siblings, to cousins, to neighbors, to school teachers, to community leaders, to friends, to class mates, to church members...we all loved one another.  No it wasn't an idyllic community, it was a real community.  Bumps and bruises along the way, but there was love.  Even now I'm finding it hard to believe that I was raised in a special place and time that embraced love and loving others.  What was so special about this magical childhood?  I believe it was faith.  Even those who did not embrace Christ, still revered those who did.  There was a common understanding of boundaries defined by God through His teachings.

Often in today's culture, love is watered down to include all types of infatuations.  "I love chocolate!"  "I love clothes!"  "I love cars!"  "I love the beach!"  Are equalled to our love and devotion to God for His Son Jesus Christ.  This culture and moral relativism has crippled our nation and churches.  There is one standard: God.  He has given to us His Word, His Son, and His Holy Spirit to guide and direct us.  There are many paths in life, but only one will lead us to God.  No matter how hard you believe, you can be wrong.  Right is not based on hard belief, it's based on following God.  If God has told us something is wrong, then it's wrong.  In all situations, in all climates, in all cultures, in all time...it's wrong.  Wrong for you and wrong for me.  We can easily be swayed by life experiences, but if it contradicts God and His teaching, then it's wrong.

Love from God is pure, holy, and available to all.  Have you made the choice to trust God with your life?  I hope you will take that leap of faith and trust Him with your whole being.  Happy Valentine's Day!

Lessons from the Court

"Woe is me!"  Seriously, what was I thinking?  Sure I remember well from childhood days (even the teen years) of running up and down a basketball court with friends, but now I'm 45 years old and well over 200 pounds (no need in getting too personal with weight, unless you're my doctor).  Some church friends (loosely implied) get together twice a month to play some basketball, and I finally agreed to check it out and play some.  Not sure as to who would be there, but I had to take part since I've invited a few men (younger than me too) to come out and join the festivity (once again loosely implied).  After I walked into the Family Life Center, I knew my friend pain would be elated.  I was the second oldest of the 16 men there.  Not only that, but I'm also packing extra weight (hence, the need to exercise), and running up and down a court (why the need for full-court???  surely half-court is almost as exciting) for an hour is setting me up for a visit with Icy Hot products. 

Yet, here I go.  Mind you, I'm not that bright.  I could have ignored the plea to join in some recreational fun, or I could have feigned a muscle pull early into the game, or I could have just walked the entire time (which would have alienated team mates), but NOOOOOOO, I just had to put forth an effort.  Dig down deep.  Go the extra mile.  Hustle.  All those good words that I usually offer up to someone else, has now come back to me ten fold.  So I would run for 5 minutes and then rest for another 5 to 8 minutes (thankful for the free substitutions).  At the end of the time, not too shabby for an old man who has not done that for 20+ years.  Made one shot out of five attempts.  Two assists and five turnovers.  Fouled several times, but no one called it since their shot went in, and only fell down three times while retreating back for defense.  Again, why the need for full court???

There were no medical personnel to offer oxygen, but if they were here, I would have gladly taken them up on that.  My lungs were burning and screaming "Stop!"at my legs and brain.  Still it was a good time that brought laughter, and I'll probably do it again next time.  At this rate, it will only take me about two years to get in better physical conditioning, but just wait until then.  Look out I have a goal in mind.

The lesson here is to get involved.  No need to sit on the sidelines and watch.  Get out there and take part.  No different as a parent, you must be involved with your children.  No matter the hobby, subject, sport, or leisure time, get in there.  Get off the couch and be active.  How about your spiritual life?  Are you reading the Word of God?  Are you praying?  Are you sharing your faith?  Are you taking part in the local church?  You are needed.  Get active.  Get in the game.  Sure I'm tired and sore, but it's a good tired and good ache.  No more excuses, get in the game.

Flight of the Tiger Balloon

Last night at church, the children's music ministry kicked off the celebration for the "Jungle Safari" musical.  It was a great night with jungle decorations, themed wall decor, and tiger-print balloons.  Oh yeah, zebra too.  Sounds of laughter filled the Family Life Center as children talked, sang, and a few listened to what's in store for this year's musical.  It was also good to see the adults dressed as safari leaders, and a few with painted faces to help set the right tone.  Each child left with a balloon to help reinforce the lesson and theme.

After Mary and I made our way home WITH an animal print balloon, we were both walking up the stairs to the front door...when I noticed the balloon drifting off into the air (minus the weighty-object-thingy).  "Mary!" I exclaimed, "what are you doing?"  She smiled at me.  "I wanted to give it to Nana" she calmly said.  Then we both watched the balloon drift over the neighbor's house (shout out to Don and Tracy) and into the darkened skies ever so lovely.  With a tear in my eye, I watched my little girl smile widely as she whispered, "I love you Nana, and I miss you.  Bunches and bunches."

So last night at our Bible story time and prayer time, we talked about Nana receiving her gift from "princess Mary" and how excited she must have been to see the balloon and then showing it off to anyone willing to listen.  My, how I love the innocent imagination of children and how they are eager to express their thoughts.  Any thoughts.  Like when you walk down the aisle of the grocery story and she comments, "He has a funny look on his face.  Doesn't he daddy?"  Loud enough so those two aisles over are able to hear her.  (She gets that from her mother.  Hey, I'm writing this.  If she wants to challenge this, then she can write her own blog.)  Or when she is in big church and whispers (her whispers are heard all over the congregation) "Your breath smells like coffee."  Which it does, but no need to tell others.  Besides, coffee is good!

Yet, in my mind (and humble opinion) Mary has helped me with the process of grief.  I certainly do miss those conversations (even when I listened most of the time), her laugh, her sermons, her smile, and her encouragement.  My, how silent life has become, but we do have hope.  I'm reminded of that hope each time I touch a Bible.  Hear a Scripture verse read aloud.  See a picture of a family.  Taste a sweet dessert (especially red velvet cake...yum!).  Memories serve a great reminder: live life.  Don't wait for it to happen...live.

My encouragement this week: go buy a balloon and let it soar into the sky.  Perhaps your imagination will take you to a place filled with pleasant and wonderful memories.  It sure did for me, Mary too!