With Mr. Jacob passing his 34 month birthday this month, he probably has about a 1,000 word vocabulary and is now starting to progress with potty training. But this was not always the case. In past days, crawling was the craze of the day with walking still a few months off.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Gary and Joyce Varden (May 12/6, 1950-June 11, 2006)
They were high school sweethearts who were born just six days apart in Evansville, Indiana. She was the oldest daughter of a family of 8. He was the drummer in a band, and her parents did not approve of him dating their daughter. The were married at 18 and had their 2 kids not too long after that. They lived in the same house almost their entire marriage, the one with the single, small bathroom which everyone fought over. They were loud and not shy about telling the other what they thought but quick to forgive and make-up. They were not strong Christians when they married but quickly learned that Christ was essential for making their family worked. As other friends left their church for different reasons they were faithful, every Sunday morning, Sunday night, Monday night visitation and Wednesday service and choir practice. Theirs was a great love story.
The video below is of Jacob's first Christmas at their house. Erik, Carrie and his 3 boys were there as well. Looking at it now, it seems like a lifetime ago but also a very recent memory. A doubt arose in my mind for the briefest of moments that they are not really gone. I can still recall their presence and spirit of the room when they were in it. Almost like I have just gone too long without talking with them. But the doubt faded quickly and I was reminded that I won't see them on this side of Eternity.
Their void in our lives has been very deep and very dark. Now that I lived this year, this year with where my beloved wife has cried and hurt so much, I have no illusions about what a trial really is. I have heard sermons preached on the value of trials, repeating Paul's words that we exult in our trials because they bring about perseverance, and perseverance brings about proven character and proven character brings hope in the love of God and this hope does not disappoint. In those sermons, I nodded piously at the wisdom in this statement. I nodded because this seemed so simple, like a formula for peace. I was completely ignorant of what a trial truly was and what life was like for those who actually experience pain beyond the tedious, daily frustrations we tend to call trials.
I now understand a trial is not a starting point for 4 part plan to praise God and being holy. I now understand a trial, a true trial, is a conundrum in which you feel completely lost and without direction or without a clue as to how to alliviate the gross pain that consumes you. I understand a trial makes you question what you believe about yourself, life and God. I understand a trial makes you want to go numb or escape because nothing seems to be as good as it use to be.
I now understand Paul was not casually giving us a little something to ponder but throwing us a life line because you are drowning in pain. His words are not to be spoke with a light air about them but in a voice like we would use to tell a person who fell off a building not to let go of the ledge because help is on the way. Just hold on a little longer! You don't have to do anything fancy, just hold on the best you can! If you can just keep your grip, you can make it! You can do it! The longer you hold on, the stronger you will become! You are not getting weaker, you are getting stronger! You can make it! He is coming! Don't lose hope; He is going to rescue you! And when He comes, and pulls you up, you will love Him even more than you did before because He has saved you! Just hang on!
That is of course all you can do. There are some good council on dealing with grief, and I believe we need to be active in our grieving, but you also just have to make it through and hang on to life the best you can. And it typically is not pretty or graceful.
Driving to Evansville the day after their death, Shannon got a beep on her cell phone indicating a voice mail. Cell phone voice mails tend to be a little flaky, but this was extreme. In this case, she was just getting a voice mail that was left over 2 weeks earlier. It was from Mom. She called to sing Happy Anniversary on May 25, her tradition of singing to us on our birthdays or anniversary. The voice mail captures both her love of her daughter and the joy in her life. When Shannon listened to it, she of course cried, but she also felt joy because she got an unexpected gift from Someone to help her hold on.
Mom signing Happy Anniversary
The video below is of Jacob's first Christmas at their house. Erik, Carrie and his 3 boys were there as well. Looking at it now, it seems like a lifetime ago but also a very recent memory. A doubt arose in my mind for the briefest of moments that they are not really gone. I can still recall their presence and spirit of the room when they were in it. Almost like I have just gone too long without talking with them. But the doubt faded quickly and I was reminded that I won't see them on this side of Eternity.
Their void in our lives has been very deep and very dark. Now that I lived this year, this year with where my beloved wife has cried and hurt so much, I have no illusions about what a trial really is. I have heard sermons preached on the value of trials, repeating Paul's words that we exult in our trials because they bring about perseverance, and perseverance brings about proven character and proven character brings hope in the love of God and this hope does not disappoint. In those sermons, I nodded piously at the wisdom in this statement. I nodded because this seemed so simple, like a formula for peace. I was completely ignorant of what a trial truly was and what life was like for those who actually experience pain beyond the tedious, daily frustrations we tend to call trials.
I now understand a trial is not a starting point for 4 part plan to praise God and being holy. I now understand a trial, a true trial, is a conundrum in which you feel completely lost and without direction or without a clue as to how to alliviate the gross pain that consumes you. I understand a trial makes you question what you believe about yourself, life and God. I understand a trial makes you want to go numb or escape because nothing seems to be as good as it use to be.
I now understand Paul was not casually giving us a little something to ponder but throwing us a life line because you are drowning in pain. His words are not to be spoke with a light air about them but in a voice like we would use to tell a person who fell off a building not to let go of the ledge because help is on the way. Just hold on a little longer! You don't have to do anything fancy, just hold on the best you can! If you can just keep your grip, you can make it! You can do it! The longer you hold on, the stronger you will become! You are not getting weaker, you are getting stronger! You can make it! He is coming! Don't lose hope; He is going to rescue you! And when He comes, and pulls you up, you will love Him even more than you did before because He has saved you! Just hang on!
That is of course all you can do. There are some good council on dealing with grief, and I believe we need to be active in our grieving, but you also just have to make it through and hang on to life the best you can. And it typically is not pretty or graceful.
Driving to Evansville the day after their death, Shannon got a beep on her cell phone indicating a voice mail. Cell phone voice mails tend to be a little flaky, but this was extreme. In this case, she was just getting a voice mail that was left over 2 weeks earlier. It was from Mom. She called to sing Happy Anniversary on May 25, her tradition of singing to us on our birthdays or anniversary. The voice mail captures both her love of her daughter and the joy in her life. When Shannon listened to it, she of course cried, but she also felt joy because she got an unexpected gift from Someone to help her hold on.
Mom signing Happy Anniversary
Friday, June 8, 2007
New Poll
Since I so desire this website to reflect the needs of my numerous audience, please reflect your post preferences in my new poll to the right. I have some great shirtless photos of me that I am dying to publish.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
VBS...remember when
This week is our church's VBS. I was talking with some random person at the Kroger in our town, and I mentioned "VBS". She gave me a puzzled look, and I clarified "Vacation Bible School". She sort of said "ahh ha" and nodded, but I don't think she knew what VBS was.
That floored me. I thought even the pagans knew what VBS was. I figured everyone had a VBS experience at some point in their life, at least in the South. I looked up VBS at Wikipedia and found a weak reference. It does nothing to capture the essense of Vacation Bible School nor its impact both in churches and individual's lives. It remains the largest source of evangelism in Southern Baptist life.
More than that, it is just a great source of memories. My most memorable experience at VBS was in my 6th grade year. I was pretty mature for an elementary age Christian, and I expressed an interest in teaching the preschool kids at VBS. Hey, a boy can only make so many miniature mangers out of popsicle sticks. I was ready for something different. Besides, I figured I would still be able to go to the recreation rotation with my friends which was my favorite part. I don't recall exactly whom I spoke to or what I said, but I certainly meant helping and not actually teaching.
I show up on the Monday of VBS and low and behold I am listed as co-teacher for the 2s and 3s along with a girl in 8th grade. She came up to me with a look of horror and said "We are in charge of the 2s and 3s". I was stunned. I just liked playing with the little kids and thought it would be fun as a change of pace. Actually leading the a class full of kids was way out of my range and expectations.
As I recall, most of the mothers just dropped off their little ones with two bewildered teens without a second thought. I kept waiting for them to stay and actually take charge. Now that I am a parent I can sort of understand as you are so excited for a little break and just want minimal assurance your child will not be harmed. Me and the 8th grader were thought of as good kids, and it is VBS. 4 hour break from our kids!
Thankfully, a couple of moms stayed. I remember one mother being a little exasperated at us for being the teachers but not taking charge. She should have been exasperated at whomever signed us up. What was that person thinking? I was spiritually mature for a 6th grader, but reading your Bible daily does not teach you to change a diaper nor inspire you to do so.
 Then at the end of the day my friends who were actually in the 6th grade class kept telling me all their fun stories. Actually, they were fun in the sense of acting out in class and annoying the teacher. The preacher's grandson was the worst. It was at that moment that I began to notice a difference in myself and my friends in terms of our view of the church and spirituality. Not that I thought I was better than them or something ridiculous like that, but that I took it seriously and they did not. I was actually glad I was not in the 6th grade class because I knew I would be torn between playing along with my friends in acting out and wanting to learn and be a part of the class.
Not that I preferred being stuck with a classroom full of babies for 4 hours a day. Playing with the kids got old after about 20 minutes which was about as long as I had actually played with a 2 year old at one time. I misjudged how much I like playing with little kids. Truthfully, I liked playing with them as long as they entertained me. But I held to my committment and helped all day with those crying poop machines.
Being my 6th grade year, I was through with VBS as a student. I recall playing wiffle ball with my friends on the Friday picnic concluding VBS and feeling sad that I would not be coming back next year, neither as a student nor as duped volunteer. Looking back, VBS, for me, was not especially memorable from a spiritual growth stand point. I was not saved during a VBS nor had some great lesson that changed my life direction. The crafts were a little corny, and I was not the type of person whom crafts made an impact on anyway. Heck, my favorite part was kickball for 20 minutes with my friends.
But I would not trade my VBS experience. I associated it with Summer and Summer was not complete without it.  For 5 consective days, you get loved on by a bunch of people, listen to the piano tell you to stand up or sit down during assembly, say odd pledges and sing funny songs you never do anywhere else, actually talk to the Pastor which all kids find exciting because this never happens any other time, make some strange but occasionally cool crafts, get all sweaty playing games and then cool off eating snacks and drinking a Coke, all while hanging with your friends without the confines of sitting quitely behind a school desk.
And in the middle of all of this you get Bible lessons every day, and these lessons speak of truths which tend to be forgotten from Sunday to Sunday but now as a daily influence seep into your mind, and these truths start to make sense that this Jesus truly loves you and that nothing in the world makes more sense than to believe in him and follow him, even if you are completely clueless of where he will lead you but it doesn't matter because if Jesus is at the center of something as cool and wild and fun as VBS, he has got to be good.
That floored me. I thought even the pagans knew what VBS was. I figured everyone had a VBS experience at some point in their life, at least in the South. I looked up VBS at Wikipedia and found a weak reference. It does nothing to capture the essense of Vacation Bible School nor its impact both in churches and individual's lives. It remains the largest source of evangelism in Southern Baptist life.
More than that, it is just a great source of memories. My most memorable experience at VBS was in my 6th grade year. I was pretty mature for an elementary age Christian, and I expressed an interest in teaching the preschool kids at VBS. Hey, a boy can only make so many miniature mangers out of popsicle sticks. I was ready for something different. Besides, I figured I would still be able to go to the recreation rotation with my friends which was my favorite part. I don't recall exactly whom I spoke to or what I said, but I certainly meant helping and not actually teaching.
I show up on the Monday of VBS and low and behold I am listed as co-teacher for the 2s and 3s along with a girl in 8th grade. She came up to me with a look of horror and said "We are in charge of the 2s and 3s". I was stunned. I just liked playing with the little kids and thought it would be fun as a change of pace. Actually leading the a class full of kids was way out of my range and expectations.
As I recall, most of the mothers just dropped off their little ones with two bewildered teens without a second thought. I kept waiting for them to stay and actually take charge. Now that I am a parent I can sort of understand as you are so excited for a little break and just want minimal assurance your child will not be harmed. Me and the 8th grader were thought of as good kids, and it is VBS. 4 hour break from our kids!
Thankfully, a couple of moms stayed. I remember one mother being a little exasperated at us for being the teachers but not taking charge. She should have been exasperated at whomever signed us up. What was that person thinking? I was spiritually mature for a 6th grader, but reading your Bible daily does not teach you to change a diaper nor inspire you to do so.
 Then at the end of the day my friends who were actually in the 6th grade class kept telling me all their fun stories. Actually, they were fun in the sense of acting out in class and annoying the teacher. The preacher's grandson was the worst. It was at that moment that I began to notice a difference in myself and my friends in terms of our view of the church and spirituality. Not that I thought I was better than them or something ridiculous like that, but that I took it seriously and they did not. I was actually glad I was not in the 6th grade class because I knew I would be torn between playing along with my friends in acting out and wanting to learn and be a part of the class.
Not that I preferred being stuck with a classroom full of babies for 4 hours a day. Playing with the kids got old after about 20 minutes which was about as long as I had actually played with a 2 year old at one time. I misjudged how much I like playing with little kids. Truthfully, I liked playing with them as long as they entertained me. But I held to my committment and helped all day with those crying poop machines.
Being my 6th grade year, I was through with VBS as a student. I recall playing wiffle ball with my friends on the Friday picnic concluding VBS and feeling sad that I would not be coming back next year, neither as a student nor as duped volunteer. Looking back, VBS, for me, was not especially memorable from a spiritual growth stand point. I was not saved during a VBS nor had some great lesson that changed my life direction. The crafts were a little corny, and I was not the type of person whom crafts made an impact on anyway. Heck, my favorite part was kickball for 20 minutes with my friends.
But I would not trade my VBS experience. I associated it with Summer and Summer was not complete without it.  For 5 consective days, you get loved on by a bunch of people, listen to the piano tell you to stand up or sit down during assembly, say odd pledges and sing funny songs you never do anywhere else, actually talk to the Pastor which all kids find exciting because this never happens any other time, make some strange but occasionally cool crafts, get all sweaty playing games and then cool off eating snacks and drinking a Coke, all while hanging with your friends without the confines of sitting quitely behind a school desk.
And in the middle of all of this you get Bible lessons every day, and these lessons speak of truths which tend to be forgotten from Sunday to Sunday but now as a daily influence seep into your mind, and these truths start to make sense that this Jesus truly loves you and that nothing in the world makes more sense than to believe in him and follow him, even if you are completely clueless of where he will lead you but it doesn't matter because if Jesus is at the center of something as cool and wild and fun as VBS, he has got to be good.
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