Beginnings Part II: A Walk to the Lake.

Beginnings is a little segment of this here blog that will deal with my observations of how I remember becoming the man who I am today. They will not be in any chronological order. I will just churn 'em out as I see fit. I have taken the hindsight is 20/20 approach and have retitled my post earlier this month about when I first heard about homeschooling under this moniker. that's why today's installment reads part II.

A Walk to the Lake

In the summer of 1983, I was just graduated from high school and just asked by my Campus Life staff person to volunteer and help the club for the coming year. So as I took the bus up to Silver Birch Ranch in Wisconsin. I was part staff, part student. Like most 18 year olds, I felt all adult and none kid.

At camp I remember being mostly student. I clowned around a lot and made people laugh. One such time was early evening as many of us were going down to the lake to swim. I was in a jogging suit with my swimsuit underneath. I was pulling all my unneeded clothes off and tossing them where they might land saying very loudly: "Must! Swim! Now!" After I had all but my trunks off, I ran wildly into the water and dived in as the water came up past my trunk.

Apparently, I created quite a scene, as one of the new Campus Life staff people asked the person they were standing with if I might perhaps, be a "special needs" child.

As I approached the water I was of singular purpose: entering the water. In the years that followed, John Swale, the staff person who questioned my ability to function in normal society, became a friend and mentor.

What I gleaned from our friendship was this: approach life like I approached the lake. A singular purpose of following Christ by serving others. This approach brought me to Western Illinois University, where I met Amy, brought me to Russia, South Carolina and back to Illinois. Through the years, I have sometimes lost track of that purpose, but God has always gently nudged me back in that direction.

Now a quarter century has passed since that walk to the lake. It is important that I continue to model the singular purpose of Loving God through serving others to my family. But I still like to walk into a lake helter skelter from time to time.

Next Time: Skiing, Swimming, Super Bowl, or Sox Fest.

Random Postings: The Guy who Makes the Donuts

A few years ago we had a family website and I would write occasional articles on it. Consider it a pre-blog blog. I named those articles Memo: Random. Occasionally I am going to post them here under Random Postings. This one is back 7 years ago from 1/27/2002.

Recently, I have been waking up in the middle of the night, usually around 3 A.M. Most nights, I go right back to sleep, but sometiimes I don't even try. This morning was one of those occasions.

I woke up at 4:30 after 4 hours of sleep. My wife, Amy, was feeding Charlie our soon to be 3 month old boy. She put him into bed and went back to sleep; but I was wide awake. So I got up, went into the computer room and looked up some things on the internet.

At about 6, our daughter Emma walked in the room. In order to let the other half of our family stay sleeping, I quietly got her dressed and we went out to buy donuts. I didn't have any cash on me, so we went to a Dunkin Donuts that I "remembered" accepted credit cards.

Emma and I got out of the car. The store looked how I expected a donut shop to look at 6 o'clock on a Sunday morning: sparsely populated. There was one car in the drive-thru, one customer ahead of me, and one "regular" nursing his coffee in the corner booth.

When it was our turn, I made our order, making sure to get a good variety. I asked Emma to tell the man what kind she wanted and in language typical of a 2 year old, she said she wanted a white one while pointing to a powdered donut. (If 2 year olds couldn't point it would be a lot harder to understand them.)

When it came time to pay, I pulled out my checkcard and much to my surprise and dismay was told I "remembered" wrong about them accepting credit cards. They did not!

I rather sheepishly had to admit, I had no actual money on me. My plan was to run to an ATM, get cash, and pick up the donuts. The counter person told me to just take the donuts and pay him back another time. I was reluctant to accept his offer but he insisted.

Emma and I took the donuts, went back to the car, got cash at the ATM and came back. By this time, activity at the store had perked up a little. I got in line to pay the guy back. At the same time the "regular" got in line behind me. I thought he was just refilling his coffee but he had come to talk to me.

The man was probably my Dad's age (late 50's/ early 60's). He was the kind of person Emma would refer to as a Grandpa. To Emma, there are four types of males (Baby, Kid, Man and Grandpa). He told me that I did not have to pay for the donuts, that he was picking up the tab.

The most embarrasing part of this incident of not bringing cash was the implication that our family was destitute and needed to panhandle for donuts. Thinking this was his impression, I politely declined indicating "I have money." He responded, "No, I've got it. It's for being honest and coming back."

I was still tempted to refuse his offer, but I think I correctly labeled that temptation as stubborn pride thanked him and went back home.

Many thoughts have penetrated my cranium about what kernel of truth to pull from this man's act of kindness. The first thought I had was that honesty must be a small commodity these days when a total stranger thinks it an oddity that needs to be rewarded. Another along those same lines was that honesty should be a given and needs no reward. The third was always keep $10.00 in the glove box for donut related emegencies. Finally I latched onto this:

Honesty, like any virtue should be pursued, taught and praised when seen in action. As a member of our society, the "regular" was simply affirming the ideal of honesty by giving my family breakfast on the house.

As Emma and Charlie grow up, Amy and I will try to teach them many valuable lessons about character. I can think of none stronger than when you spot virtue in our fallen world: be the guy who buys the donuts.

Meanwhile in 2009: The Dunkin Donuts was torn down recently and a new Dunkin Donuts just opened up at the same location. They now accept credit cards at least I "remember" using one there. :)

Next Time: Beginnings Part II: A Walk to the Lake

Awana

I stare at a blank page. What to write? What to tell you. What to share? Jimminy Christmas, it's cold out there. No, that's not what I want to write. Jinky's it's tough to write.

That's the last time I leave the computer unattended!! I mean I leave ONE minute to tuck in my daughter, and when I come back: gibberish. (Aka, my wife got ahold of the keyboard!)

No matter, I'll get back on track. AWANA! Awana is what works for me. If you are not familiar with AWANA click here.

Awana is like scouting, except instead of cookies and merit badges, you memorize bible verses. Who would want to memorize a cookie anyway? Emma is in Truth in Training which is for 3rd through 6th graders. Charlie is in Sparks which is for K-2nd graders. Next year Lucy will be in Cubbies. Each week the kids have a theme night such as sports night, or crazy hair night. I have so far been unsuccesful in my bid for Paint Your Neighbor's Spaniel Purple Night. But I understand that in these hard economic times, not everyone can afford purple paint.

Crazy Hair Night!

Last weekend was the Awana Grand Prix. The Grand Prix is very similar to the pinewood derbies I ran in as a cub scout. Charlie and Emma both entered and we took some school time to design and paint the cars. As a family we did not fare very well in the races, but we still enjoyed ourselves. After the races the children's pastor preached a message of how important it is to finish the race of life in the winners circle by becoming a follower of Jesus. It was so reminiscent of the scene in "Chariots of Fire" where Eric Liddel preaches after a race he just won about running the race of life.

Awana, works for me because it meshes the spiritual with the other experiential components of growing up. It also works for me as a home school dad: we start school each day memorizing God's word. To see what works for other folks please click here to go to the Works for me Wednesday page at Rocks in my Dryer.

Next Time: Random Postings: The Guy Who Makes the Donuts