When Father’s Day Is the First Day of Summer: An Ode to Those Who Fathered Me in my Youth

This year, the first day of summer fell on the 3^rd Sunday in June.

Father’s Day, your day, has the most light our year will offer.

As I watch the sun finally concede its end

and transfer the domain of  our world over to the night,

I think about those summer nights,  ♪oh those summer nights♪.

Those summer nights we spent together were as different from Danny and Sandy’s

as the fleeting day is from the fast approaching night.

Instead of chasing that illusive specter I’ve come to know as teenage romance

I spent those nights basking in your love,

Soaking it in as we watched our bobbers float on the end of translucent lines in between lily pads while listening to baseball on a radio powered by D-Batteries.

Not speaking much but saying volumes to each other.

Then later on those summer nights we’d gather lawn chairs into a circle,

So we could watch orange, yellow, and crimson minstrels dance on a stage the that we made of pine, oak, and ironwood.

You’d tell me stories of when you were my age and I’d listen as I roasted marshmallows, drank Sprite, and ate French-onion flavored Sun Chips.

There were those Summer Days too.

We spent them floating in foreign lands where the conifers dwarfed us in size and outnumbered us in population

and it was more likely to see a moose than an unfamiliar face.

There’s the raspberry patch in the backyard

Where I’d act like a baby bird, opening my mouth skyward and chirping

Waiting expectantly for you to gently place those freshly picked berries onto my tongue like a communion wafer.

Earlier yet there’s those summer mornings

When my alarm clock wasn’t an evenly timed electronic beep,

but rather the scent of pancakes and sausage links wafting through my bunk bed.

There’s the cribbage board set between us on a red-and-white-checkered plastic tablecloth

We’d play game after game while being serenaded by the duet of rainfall on the tin roof over our heads and polka music playing in the next room.

These memories and so many others you’ve placed into my hands like seeds to be planted

Some slipped through my youthful fingers and rolled away,

Only to be found flourishing in dusty corners and under half-read books while I’m looking for something else entirely.

Some you helped me plant right away in the fertile soil of my young heart

There they’ve grown and blossomed, producing sweet fruit that begs to be savored and shared.

The rest I’ve kept tucked away safely like precious jewels.

I’m saving them for the hearts of the children I will father

So that your legacy of love will flourish even beyond my lifetime

So, today, on your day, the tipping point of the never-ending, always changing battle between light and dark for the 24 hours we call a day

I simply want to say THANK YOU.

Thank you for being a father to me in the summers of my youth and those beyond.

I Don’t Condemn You

Performed Live At Fellowship Church

I Don't Condemn You

I’m thrust before you, caught in the very act,

Surrounded by dark shadows and choking dust.

I’m afraid.

Afraid that you’ll see through the coverings I’ve made for myself from the leaves of office plants and dental floss,

Paired with a sharp wit and a charming smile.

I’m afraid you’ll sense the dark, stinging liquid coursing through my veins,

Smell the rancid smoke that fills my lungs,

And see the sick desires of my heart.

I’m expecting fire to fall from the sky and render your judgment upon me.

Instead you drop to your knees and use your finger to draw in the dirt,

Silently and intently.

You draw for a long time.

The silence persists as the dust settles and the shadows leave.

The last vapor of darkness disappears from before my eyes and your gaze shifts from the art at Your feet to my face.

Your lips begin to move and I cringe,

Expecting a clap of thunder, the crackle of a blaze, and the smell of charred flesh.

Instead I hear a caring, gentle whisper asking me,

“Where are those that condemn you?”

I look around, they’ve disappeared.

But, I’m convinced that they’ll be back,

Returning in the dead stillness of the night like they always do

Starting as a whisper that steadily crescendos into a deafening chorus that sounds like my own voice.

You see, my greatest accuser, Satan, is a sick ventriloquist.

He warps and throws his own lies to make them sound as though they are coming from the top of my own throat.

I’ve heard these shameful melodies so often that I know all the words

And all too often I’ve added my own baritone drawl to the choir.

Even now I begin to hum one of those all-too-familiar choruses

But You stop me.

“It’s only you and me here,” You whisper “and I don’t condemn you.”

Your words sound too good to be true

So I begin to sing and sing loudly, louder than when I’m alone in my car and a Taylor Swift song comes on the radio

I’m hoping to drown out your gentle words and erase them from my memory.

You simply repeat what You’ve said, “I DON’T CONDEMN YOU”

At Your words the shameful choir falls silent,

The sky opens up and glorious light pours through accompanied with angelic harmonies

I finally hear Your promise

And I believe it.

I look down, the dental floss and plastic leaves are gone.

They’ve been replaced by a brilliant white robe and a glorious crown.

You help me to my feet, put Your hands on my shoulders, look into my eyes and state,

“I don’t condemn you. Go, sin no more. Be free.”

Selah: My First Lesson From 13.1

Selah. It’s a Hebrew word that shows up 73 times in the Psalms. It strikes me as odd most of the time when I come across it while reading. What’s an untranslated Hebrew word doing in my English (or Spanish) Bible? I did a little searching online, the simplest (and best) definition I found is “A call to pause and reflect”.

I need to answer the call of Selah in my life. A week ago I completed my first half marathon and one thing it made blatantly obvious is that I struggle with both parts of Selah.

Pause

It has been a legitimate struggle for me over the past week to pause and take a break from running (and serious exercise for that matter). I simply don’t feel at ease while taking a break: for instance while I’m at work I don’t take a lunch break, I simply eat my food while completing a task or in between customers at the cash register.  I don’t know when I learned to equate staying busy with self-worth but it must have been early in my life because it runs deep. Unfortunately, all it really does it leave me feeling tired and overwhelmed by all the tasks I’ve tried to cram into one 24-hour period with the hope that I’ll stay busy enough to feel valuable.

The biggest thing for me is realizing that there is a difference between pausing and quitting. Pausing implies a temporary break with the intention of continuing, while quitting is permanent. I’ve noticed that when I’m watching a movie I will hit pause to go grab snacks or use the bathroom if I’m engaged in the plot development, but if I have something playing just to “fill the void” I’ll leave the room and miss good chunks of the movie without much care. We pause when things are important. I want to continue running and biking long distances, and in order to do that I need to pause and take time to rest and recover.

Reflect

Mirrors allow us to see ourselves, take stock of how we look, and make any modifications we deem necessary. I would say that I’m not overly concerned with my physical appearance but I can’t imagine even going even a day without seeing my reflection. I certainly don’t spend anywhere near the same amount of time reflecting upon my thoughts and actions as I do looking at my physical appearance in the mirror. This is probably why I don’t allow myself to rest: I don’t take time to acknowledge my own accomplishments and give myself credit where credit is due.

Over the past week I’ve struggled a lot with feeling shame about not lifting weights at the gym, going for runs, or logging training miles on my bike. I’ve needed to shout to myself “YOU JUST RAN 13.1 MILES! ALLOW YOURSELF TO REST.” A half marathon is no small feat; I forget that. I also forget that when I started running in October I would have been happy to be running 5k’s by now. On top of all that I also forget that I finished more than 2 minutes under my goal of 2.5 hours, which was a pace that I thought would push me beyond my limits even under the best circumstances.

I’ve always been terrible at rest and it has been to my detriment as an athlete and a person. The simple solution is to incorporate “Selah” into my life, set up markers within my routine that beckon me to take pause, reflect on what I’ve accomplished, and give myself permission to rest and recover in order to continue doing the things that are important to me.

Goals: Better Late Than Never

As of yesterday, I’ve been 28 for an entire month and until very recently I hadn’t set or announced any definite goals for my 28th year. It isn’t that I haven’t been thinking about what I’d like to accomplish this year, I have been. I simply found it hard to make a complete yet concise list.

Over the past couple days, I set aside time to compile and edit the list of my hopeful accomplishments for my upcoming year. There are things like completing a half-marathon, practicing music on a regular basis, and developing myself as a leader. Overall, my goals fall into one of three categories.

(1) More Value, Less Volume

I learned this principle from being an endurance athlete and I want to apply in other areas of my life as well.  My diet, my media habits, and how I spend my time could all benefit from a little less quantity and a lot more quality. This is not to say that I won’t ever go to McDonald’s this year, drink excessive free refills of Caribou coffee,  or binge watch clips from The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon on YouTube; I just hope to do those things with less and less frequency.

(2) Changing My Lenses

In all actuality I will probably need to get new glasses this year and with new glasses will come a (slightly) better perception of the world that surrounds me.

Metaphorically I hope to see my world in a more positive light in the coming year. There are bad things and terrible situations in the world, and I refuse to gloss over them. I won’t ever try to put a positive spin on things like cancer, war, or poverty; things like that are simply and completely terrible. However, I do find there are a lot of “neutral” things in my life. Unfortunately, my default mode is to interpret them negatively and use them to deprecate myself and my life choices.

One good example of this is my bed. I have a pretty small room in the house I’m renting. In fact, I’m fairly sure it was never meant to be a bedroom because it doesn’t have any closet space whatsoever. When I moved into the house last January my solution to the lack of storage space was to loft my bed and use the space underneath as a closet. It works pretty well, but makes my sleeping situation a bit comical. When I lie on my back I have about 8 inches of space between my face and the ceiling, so I refer to my bed as "the sleeping pod". So, I’m given the option of viewing this as a negative: let’s be real, I’m 28, I should sleep like an adult in an adult bed. I might as well have a race-car bed frame, right?  I can also view this as a positive: I’m 28 and I still get top bunk, which is awesome! Plus, I’m living within my means using the space I have to its full potential.

(3) Keep on Keepin’ On

The movie Joe Dirt is a classic for many reasons, one of which is that it is full of little nuggets of wisdom, like the quote above. I’m a pretty great guy and I’ve done some amazing things in my previous 27 years on this earth. I hope to become a better man and keep doing amazing things. ‘Nuff Said.

Love Does: The Spoken-Word Poem

What does love do?

Does it, at the sight of her,
use the wings of a thousand butterflies
to tickle your heart and send it on a roller coaster ride
in, around, and through your chest?

No, that’s attraction.

Does love wait on her doorstep in a tuxedo,
roses in one hand, champagne in the other,
with an 80’s rock anthem blaring in the background?

No, that’s romance.

What love does is
pay for lunch when you’ve forgotten your wallet
love comes with you, cheers you along,
and celebrates with you when accomplish your dreams
Love drives 2 hours simply to sit with you in tearful silence at a funeral.

Love picks you up, dusts you off,
and reminds you that you are not the sum of your shortcomings and failures.

What love does, has done, and will continue to do is
take this heart of stone,
which has been marred by abuse
and calloused by neglect,
and turn it into a heart of flesh
that lives and beats,
hopes and believes.

Love begins with the heart but does not stop there,
it propels life out into the extremities
and changes the whole person.
It has transformed prostitutes into princesses,
murderers into missionaries,
and critics into collaborators
and it will transform the scared,
selfish little boy I believe myself to be
into a mighty man seeking after Gods own heart.

Love does not do all of this to gain for itself,
but rather love does to show us how amazing we truly are
and to teach us how to live as beloved.

Compliments and Free Couches: Learning the Art of Self-value

I work retail, so between helping customers and stocking shelves there is usually quite a bit of time to converse with my boss and coworkers. Lately, one of our favorite topics of discussion has been my endeavors into dating that, I have to admit, are pretty comical. While discussing my most recent “failure to launch” my boss quipped, “Maybe you’re like a couch that you don’t want anymore, if you put it on the curb with a sign that says “FREE” no one will touch it, but as soon as you say it costs $5, it will go”. It was funny and as I thought about it throughout the rest of my shift that day I began to realize how true it was: no one will recognize the value of what you are offering until you put value on it yourself.

That night, on my bike ride home, I received one of the most meaningful compliments I’ve been offered recently. A pedestrian shouted to me (twice), “You’re lights are excellent!” I replied with a quick “Thank you” and continued home because while my lights were excellent, my clothing choice was not and I was really cold. As I arrived home I began to ponder why I appreciated this stranger’s compliment so much. It was because I agreed with him. My lights are excellent: I’ve spent a decent amount of money on them and get pretty excited when talking about them. It was nice to have someone else acknowledge the value I put on them.

It made me realize that there are a lot of compliments that I am offered that I don’t receive, a lot of praise that I shrug off insisting that the person must be misinformed. I simply don’t agree with them about the value they see in me. I want to learn to see the value others see in me and stop deprecating the man that I am. I want to be able to receive any compliment offered to me with genuine thanks.

This concept transfers into my faith life because the biggest compliment that I constantly reject is that I’m beloved, so much so that Jesus was willing to die for me in order to have a relationship with me. Brennan Manning wrote, “Genuine self-acceptance is not derived from the power of positive thinking, mind games or pop psychology. IT IS AN ACT OF FAITH in the God of grace.” It is time for me to have a little faith, accept myself as I am, and learn to receive any and all compliments I am offered.

Ending Well, Disappointed

“Goals shouldn't be easy and they shouldn't always be met, because then they're not really goals" --Tim Ek

The New Year is a time many of us use to “start over”, set goals for ourselves (or rather the selves we hope to become), and do our best to start on a path towards achieving them.

During the past week I’ve spent a little time looking back on my year gone by and I have to admit that I feel disappointed about some of the goals I set for myself in January 2014: my weight still hovers around 200 pounds, I’m still employed by the same company, and I’m still single. On top of these things remaining unchanged throughout 2014, there seems to be very little hope of them changing in 2015.

But, I’ve come to that conclusion only looking at 2 of 365 days.

In the other 363 I’ve done a lot of work that I don’t give myself credit for. I biked over 4,000 miles, finished races that I wouldn’t have imagined completing even a year ago, and logged race times I thought were reserved for guys who weigh 50 pounds less than me and have $10,000 carbon-fiber bicycles.  I started running, practicing yoga regularly, and enjoying vegetables. I started a leadership position at my church. I asked around 35 women out to coffee and even went on a quite a few dates. I faced a lot of heartache, confusion, and adversity including being stung on the lip by a wasp at the halfway point of one of my century rides. In my attempts to accomplish my goals I have learned a lot about my heart and myself.

My sense of accomplishment should come from those 363 days, not in the accomplishment of some lofty aspirations I had set for myself on an equally as frigid morning a year ago. At the same time, I would have never experienced those successes had I not set those goals that I didn’t achieve in the first place. As a man who’s perpetually questioning whether or not he is wasting his time, this is a very hard concept for me to wrap my head around.

I’m often tempted to treat these “in-the-process” successes like some sort of pitiful consolation prizes, decide that accomplishing my goals isn’t worth the time and effort, give up and quit. This will inevitably undo any progress I had made: my body will still want to consume the same amount of calories it took in while I was exercising daily, I wouldn’t have to leave my house, and I’d stop dreaming. The pounds would start stacking up, my muscles would atrophy, self-doubt and self-deprecation would return, and the thought of change would become simply overwhelming.

So, this year I’m still setting some pretty lofty goals for myself. While I hope to achieve them all, I’m going to be ok with some disappointment because I’m putting value on the effort I’ll put into achieving goals that will challenge me, instead of the single moment of having accomplished them.

Galatians 6:9
“Let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”