Home is where the heart is

     There is a blaring silence reverberating off the wall of our house tonight, this first night of my temporary bachelorhood.  Yes, Karlye and her mother (God love them) through some mix of bravery and insanity took off in our minivan with 5 kids and 3 bikes on a road trip to Texas today.  I at last have the house to myself for a week, no noise, no chaos, no dirty diapers or bedtime battles.  I have been looking forward to this week with great expectation.

     Now that it has come, as glad as I am to have some time to myself, I am finding already that part of me is missing.  My best friend and five greatest treasures are gone and I think they must have packed part of my soul somewhere in the back of that minivan, because for the life of me I can't seem to find it here no matter how hard I look.  Without them, this home has reverted back to a house.  This silence comes at a price.  Things just aren't the same without the nightly routine.  I don't know how Josiah will be able to sleep without me to tuck him in. I won't have Grace stalling getting to sleep with her nightly request for "Two kisses, two hugs, prayer time and tuck me in".  As much as I enjoy the "me" time I am realizing how important the "us" time has become to me.

     I am not completely myself without my wife and children.  I will certainly enjoy my time alone.  I thrive on the respite from the normal cacophony that fills this place.  I will sleep soundly without fear of waking up at 3:30 to Bill O'Reilly when Karlye is having trouble sleeping.  No small person will disturb my slumber by climbing on top of me in the middle of the night.  I just wonder though if a full night of sleep alone is half as good as an interrupted night of sleep shared with the person you love most in the world.

     I know that somewhere in a hotel room in northern Texas tonight, bedlam reigns supreme.  There is arguing and fighting and kids with a days worth of pent up energy are driving their mother and grandmother to the limit of their patience.  I am very happy not to be a part of it, but I wouldn't mind a little glimpse of it, just to know that even though separated from me by 300 miles, that piece of my heart is still beating.

    Sweet dreams my precious ones.  I love you.

Happy Anniversary

     Today is our 12th anniversary.  Somehow it doesn't seem as glitzy or exciting as 10 or 20 years, but then every anniversary is a milestone, which is why we celebrate them.  I'm not sure how I would have pictured us 12 years down the road, if I had taken the time on our wedding day to consider such things, but I probably would have been a little idealistic.  Probably I would have imagined a stunning couple staring lovingly into eachother's eyes cuddled close by a roaring fire or something along those lines.  I doubt I would have envisioned lunch at Jason's Deli with 5 kids, potato chips and hot dog chunks scattered on the floor.  Nothing says romance like hunks of food on the floor.  But then, reality seldom matches up to what we dream it will be.

     I would have thought, in my long lost naivete, that 12 year into a marriage, we would have perfected the whole relationship thing.  I would have imagined that we would be past the point of petty arguments and reached a place where we could look past or laugh off the little annoying quirks we each brought into the relationship.  Yeah, I guess I thought that 2 or 3 years into this marriage, we would have pretty much figured it all out and then could enjoy the next 50 or so just cruising along without conflict or misunderstanding.   

     So much for for pipe dreams.

     The reality is perhaps less glamorous, but I wouldn't trade a minute of it.  I love my wife more today than ever before.  We struggle through the day to day challenges of marriage just like everyone else, but we never even consider giving up.  She helps me to be a better person than I would ever be on my own.  Believe me, I am far from perfect, but I am a much better man because of her.  I hope that in the next 12 years I will become the kind of husband that she truly deserves.

     I hope that she knows how much I love her.  I hope that the love I have for her is always more than words; that it is a love lived out daily in such a real way that it becomes a place where she feels safe and content.  I hope that through the way I love Karlye, my children feel safe and can see a picture of how a man should treat his wife.  I admit, I have a long way to go, but having her in my life makes me want to be better tomorrow than I am today.

     So on this 12th anniversary of our marriage, I want to take the time to tell my wonderful wife a few things that I don't usually take enough time to say.  I love you Karlye.  I love you for being such a stong person.  I love you for the way you care for our five kids.  I appreciate the hard work and grueling effort that you put into making our home a safe and caring environment for me and the kids, each and every day.  Thank you for putting up with my grumpy moods and angry outbursts.  Thank you for the sacrifices you make for me and the family.  Thank you for 12 wonderful years and five terrific children.  I am glad that I will have the chance to grow old with you.  I look forward to the rest of our journey together.  It may not always be a smooth ride, but I'm certain it won't be boring.  I am so glad that God brought us together.  You are my life.  Happy anniversary.

     Ah, back in Tonganoxie.  Traveling to a city like Chicago always reinforces how glad I am that I live in the middle of nowhere.  Surrounded by miles of concrete and buildings and millions of people makes me claustrophobic.  It also makes me feel small.  I get the sense that I am just one small ant in a massive ant hill.  I know some people live for the bustle and movement of the big city.  Me, I'll take the less hectic route through life.  I enjoy knowing the woman at the check out counter at the grocery store.  I like meeting friends every few feet when I walk through the city park.  There is a comfort in the smallness of this corner of the world.  I can breath here.  Maybe I am not made for greatness, but I am content with what I have here; my life, my family, my home.

    I did enjoy watching my kids experience the city.  They adapted very quickly.  I looked at Caleb and could almost see him like some street-wise character from a movie.  Of course, he wasn't all that street wise as several times he attempted to place himself directly in the path of oncoming vehicles.

    The kids loved the Shedd aquarium and the Museum of Science and Industry.  I realize that you don't get stuff like that in the small town.  I suppose that's why we occasionally venture into the big city. 

    I just wonder sometimes if we aren't somehow spoiling our children by taking them too many places.  It seems like the more we go, the less they appreciate what they are getting to do.  I was in awe when I first went to Chicago as a teenager.  I don't think they experienced even the slightest twinge of real excitement.  Sure, they had fun, but for them, it was just another trip. 

     The  again, maybe things will not always be so easy to do.  Maybe the economy will come crashing down even worse than it already has and traveling with 5 kids will become next to impossible.  I guess I should be thankful or the ability to do these things as a family while time and money permit. 

     In the end though, I realize how blessed I am with a wonderful wife who makes me take fie great kids on trips that I would never be willing to take without her prodding.  I come back from them all a little tired but very aware of the great riches I have in this little troupe we call a family.  You can take all the fame and wealth the world offers you.  You can live in your up-scale hi-rise department on Lake Shore Drive.  We're good just the way we are in our little town in Kansas.

The Windy, Rainy, Chilly City

Ahhh Chicago. The last time I was here Barak Obama was some community organizer running for the senate. I actually walked past one of his big promo events and remembered thinking what a weird name he had. That was summer 2004, this is the fall of 2011. I definitely. Prefer the summer weather to this cold rain. 48° never felt so cold before. I think October in Chicago is like March in Seattle with hurricane force winds. The kids seem to be troopers though and as of yet have not been overly whiny about the rain and cold. Okay, enough blogging from my iPhone. Gonna call it a night and maybe tomorrow I'll take more pictures. Unfortunately I left the camera at home.

Preacher Man

     This week at church I preached my second-ever sermon.  I know that I am not made to be a preacher.  I don't like being in the spotlight.  I could write sermons.  I have plenty of opinions and am not at all afraid to say what I think.  I just don't like being front and center.  I don't like to be looked at and watched.  

     When I started dating my wife, my future brother-in-law used to call me Preacher Bill.  I'm sure he meant it with the utmost respect, however I had never preached a single sermon in my life.  I remember going to Christian youth camps as a young teen and they had this this called the "Young Preacher's Club".  I always wanted to give it a whirl, try my hand at the whole fire and brimstone thing, but I was simultaneously terrified of getting up in front of people.  

     Now twice I have filled in for our Pastor while he was away for various reasons.  I have learned a lot of respect for him and what he does just on Sunday morning.  Add in all he does the rest of the week, and I don'r know how he manages to do it week in and week out.  The same goes for all pastors.  This is pastor appreciation month, and I can't think of a group of people who deserve out appreciation more than pastors.

    Pastoring used to be a highly respected profession.    Many of the founders of the country were pastors.  Pastors were the ones who people turned to for guidance and insight, for counseling and encouragement.  They held the nation together through times of tragedy and pushed us to be a better people.

     Today is is most common to see a pastor on TV or in a movie portrayed in a much more disrespectful light.  Hollywood would have us see pastors as backwards and uninformed.  They might be good intentioned, but usually are made out to be hypocritical and scheming snake oil salesmen, who bang on a big Bible and then secretly bed their secretary or live high on the hog off the Social Security checks that their brain washed elderly parishioners send them dutifully each month.  Their children are also usually the most rebellious and promiscuous kids in the local school.

     Sure there are always examples of pastors who have blown it, and I have known my share.  The fact remains though that most pastors serve God faithfully their whole lives, with little or no recognition for the amount of time and effort they pour into their work.  The work long hours studying and preparing sermons and lessons that people will listen to with glazed over eyes.  The are always visiting at the hospital when anyone gets sick.  They get called in the middle of the night.  They spend hours listening to people's problems and seldom have anyone think for a moment that they might occasionally be dealing with some of their own.  It is for the most part a thankless job. Many times they don't have a lot of close friends, because I think most people don't feel comfortable around them.

     I just want to go on the record and say that I am lucky enough to have two amazing and hard working pastors who are as above reproach as men can be.  They deserve a ton of praise for all they do.  I don't know how they keep going week after week and still do such a great job at being husbands and fathers.  They are men of God who put Him first in their lives and live out their faith boldly and without hypocrisy.  Thanks Mike and Mark.  I am proud to know you and call you both friend.

     So anyway, I preached as a fill in for Mike this week.  It was a privilege.  I don't know if anyone else got anything out of the sermon, but I know that I needed to hear what I had to say.  I'll post a link should anyone else want to listen.

Living For Christ In A Hostile World - Sunday 10/9/2011

     

Englewood, FL

Well, It's been crazy with all of us on a road trip for 3 days and I haven't gotten a chance to write anything, but I will. In the meantime, here are a few pictures.

Whining

     This morning I heard a story on the news as I was getting ready for work.  Scientist somewhere have conducted a study to find out what the most annoying sound in the world is and it turns out that it is (drum-roll): whining kids.  Now the first thought I have about this is why the heck did people spend money to learn what any parent in the world could have easily told them for free.  On second thought though, it is kind of nice to have some solid evidence that there is a good reason I often fantasize about ear plugs.
   
     As dads, we have developed an uncanny ability to block out the sound of whining.  Moms don't seem as skilled at this and that is probably for the best because sometimes I'm sure there is a legitimate reason for the whining.  You probably want at least one parent capable of hearing the children in case they happen to be bleeding profusely or have managed to wedge their foot in the hole at the bottom of the toilet bowl.  Most of the time though, children revert to whining for far less serious things like wanting a bowl of rice crispies at 6:00 in the morning or their older brother not letting them sit in the correct seat at the dinner table.

     Dad's are far less adept at blocking of the sound of an angry mother who has been effected negatively by a child's whining and so, we ultimately are forced into action one way or another.  With 5 kids, there is an constant background noise of whining.  It starts about the time the sun rises and continues unabated until 10:00 at night. This is why I stay up too late.  It is the only time I can actually concentrate.

     I love kids.  Every day is a learning experience.  Today we learned that geckos really can snap off their tails if they feel their lives are in danger.  It turns out that having an 80 pound 8 year old grab you and try to shove you down his brother's pants produces an adequate amount of fear to make you lose your tail.

     I honestly don't know how Karlye can put up with them all day.  If I was a stay at home dad, there would be sound proof cages installed in the basement.  In the old days when I was a kid it was easier.  There was the outside.  Mom would kick us out the door and lock it behind us, the attic fan running to block out the sound of our whining.  Those were simpler days when no one worried about some sicko abducting children out of your yard.I'm sure we were bored out of our minds most of the time, but we always somehow managed to find something to do.  Now the kids have Xbox and Wii, satellite and Netflix, computers and a thousand toys and there is absolutely nothing that they can find to occupy their time.

    Well, will did manage to install malware on my computer so I would have hours of fun trying to get the internet running again.  One of the kids entertained themselves by twisting Karlye's glasses and popping the lens out.  I think I am going to need to take my poor wife out for a relaxing night out, or send her to get a massage.  I need to keep her healthy and happy because if she every quits on us then my only option will be to start reading through military school brochures.

     In all seriousness though, life without children would be so dull.  We have friends who chose not to have kids.  They have dogs instead.Not pet dogs, but family member, surrogate children dogs.  Yes they get to go out anytime they like, they can jet set all over the place and don't have to make emergency trips to the grocery store for milk and bread.  I'm sure they are quite happy with the life they have chosen, but something tells me that despite all the noise and chaos I have experienced a joy that is greater than any they will ever know.  Life is short and the only thing that lasts is imprint we make on the lives of these little one that God has given us the awesome responsibility of turning into the next generation of men and women.  I scarcely feel capable of fulfilling that task.  I worry every day that I have failed them as a father and that I am messing them up beyond any help of their future therapist.  I think every parent has felt that way though and most of us turn out okay.

     So while they can whine and can annoy, they also are capable of some of the sweetest most tender expressions of love.  It is those moments that more than negate any frustration that they give us.  I just need to remember that the next time I'm trying to talk to the annoying survey lady on the phone and Josiah screams at the top of his lungs 2 inches from my ear.