I am feeling a little scared right now. A few years ago, I was overweight, obese really, and I decided to do something about it. So I set a goal to get back to my weight in high school. I worked hard, and started to get into running; as I approached my fiftieth birthday I had a crazy idea. We have a marathon in our town, not just a normal marathon, but the Pike’s Peak Marathon. This marathon not only goes on for 26.2 miles, it also features the added bonus of running straight up Pike’s Peak, the summit of which is at 14,115 feet. As if that wasn’t bad enough, competitors then turn around and run down the mountain. The total elevation gain during the race is 7,815 feet. I decided that I would set this race as my goal.
I have one little problem; that goal is more or less insane. Three years ago, I had never run further than maybe a few miles. I played sports as a kid, but running was never my thing. Sure I ran short distances, but never anywhere very far. How do I expect to get this done? The truly frightening thing right now is that I just looked at the race’s website, and there in the list of runners is my name. It’s official. I paid the money, and I am expecting to run the race in August, except right now I don’t feel like I can do it!
Do you have one of these crazy dreams? Maybe it is something you have long hoped for your child, or a life skill you are hoping they can one day master. Do you ever find yourself in the mood I am in right now, telling yourself, “There is no way this is going to happen?”
I’ve heard it before. If you have to evacuate your home what should you take? One year ago we had a devastating fire in our town. While I was concerned, and the direct impact on our family was fairly limited because the fire was “on the other side of town” I really didn’t think much about what I would do in a similar situation. One thing I did do was register for reverse 911 service on my cell phone. My wife and I talked about what we should take if we were ever evacuated, but soon after we had moved back into the rhythm of everyday life. Well, Tuesday of this week we were shaken out of our rhythm by a fire in our neighborhood. Within two hours we were out of our house with what we could take in our cars. This morning I was able to take a look at our home, which is one of the few, still standing on our street. We lost the barn, shed, garage, and our chickens but I am feeling very blessed right now!
I’ve also begun to think a lot about what matters most. When we spent the last few days not knowing the status of our house, it really did become clear; none of the “stuff” in our home mattered. Yes it will be a pain to replace lost things, but they are just that: things.
As I waited in a long line of cars to get to our house for the first time since the fire broke out, I got to talk to a few people who were also waiting. Some talked about those in charge and how they were not doing anything right. The officials are doing a good job; they may not be doing what everybody wants, but I know they can’t. Some are angry because not all the available information is correct. The fire covers 15,000 acres; they are not going to be able to get 100% of the information about every single home right. Some are not happy that they cannot get back into their homes, even though the fire is still burning. I understand the inconvenience that comes with not being able to be in my own home, but I also know that if one of these people were injured in the fire area they would be the first to file a lawsuit.
The bottom line is all of us are safe, my children and wife are unharmed. I don’t know any other way to say it. I do feel blessed that our home still stands, but to have my kids and wife safe makes me fall to my knees and thank God. As we celebrate Father’s Day, let us give thanks for the blessings we have and help others remember those blessings as well!
It was one of those nights.While the family slept, I decided to take advantage of the silence and get some work done.In the midst of my efforts, I turned on the television and stumbled across a movie from the 1995:Mr. Holland’s Opus.
Have you seen it?It’s always interesting to watch something a second time – especially when your personal circumstances have changed since your initial viewing.You often pick up on things that may have once gone right over your head.
Especially if you’re seeing something a second time for the first time as a parent of a child with special needs.
If you’re not familiar with the film, it featured Richard Dreyfuss playing the role of a newly married musician with a dream of being a great American composer. He wants to get off the road and concentrate on composition, so he takes a job as a high school music teacher.
As often happens, his job begins taking up more of his time than he wants to give. He becomes frustrated.His grand plan is being ruined!Then his wife gets pregnant and the pressures really start to mount.
Time and time again, he tries to keep his dream alive, but the job and his family demand all of him and the dream appears to be slipping away.
So, like many fathers, he begins to fantasize that he’ll be able to see the fulfillment of his dashed dreams in the life if his growing child.He even names the son after his favorite musician - just to be sure there’s no mistake what his life will hold.
I have been struggling with the issue of gratitude lately. How can we be grateful, or why should we, in times when circumstances seem so harsh? I am not talking about easy situations. If someone gives me money it is easy to be grateful. I talked with a co-worker who had been on a trip to Europe and had her wallet stolen on the subway. A bystander who saw it all happen walked up to her and gave her a hundred dollars so she could get to her hotel. In that situation it would be easy to be grateful. I am talking about the hard times, not just times when our blessings are obvious. I experience moments of gratefulness; what I'm after is a life of gratefulness. What I want for myself is a sustained posture of gratitude for the blessings I have been given. I don't expect to be some weird, unfazed, smiling robot without feelings; there are certainly times when my life seems hard and overwhelming. Taking the whole of my life into account, though, I am grateful for the person God has made me, and grateful for the people He has brought into my life. Once I have this general attitude, I find I have to deal with another important question: how do I pass it on to my children and others in my life? What parent hasn't tried to tell their children about the hardships they faced when they were a child? We all walked to school uphill both ways. These days, we've probably made a few changes to that clichéd line: we remind our kids that that we didn't have twenty-four hour TV or Internet. We didn't have video games, (well, other than maybe the local arcade's copy of Pac-Man.) We had to go outside! In the end, of course, all the speeches and stern talking-to's don't make as much of an impact as the example of a life lived.
My family and I have been to places where poverty makes it clear how blessed we are. We have seen how little others have in comparison; we have worked building houses for the poor in Mexico and helped with orphans in Guatemala, and it has made us grateful for our blessings. In my own life, this sense of gratitude has always lasted for a season. Sustaining it is what I really want.
As I think about this it brings to mind several stories I have heard recently. A news story about a family who had a child born with many issues stuck with me. They had been in and out of hospitals most of the time since the baby had been born. As the story unfolded it turned from the hardship of his youth to the triumph of his adulthood. While any number of things had happened along the way that many would consider setbacks, this young man saw those moments as challenges to overcome. Every time someone said he would never do something, he took it as a personal challenge. The best line from this story came from the young man's father. He explained that this was not the life he would have planned for himself, but looking back he wouldn't change it. A second story had a similar impact on me; I posted a link to that video on our Facebook page. A family tells the story of their son's life, the life of a young man born without arms. This young man is matter of fact about his life and his determination. He confidently asserts that there's nothing he can't do in life. There are just things he hasn't done yet.
Over the last fifteen years I have had the wonderful pleasure of meeting many people who are doing wonderful work with and on behalf of those with special needs. Many of them are working in very unique ways or areas to make life better for those with special needs. All of them speak of the vision they have or the experiences they themselves have had that gives them the drive to make a difference. These organizations are as unique as each person, and while their goals are different I have wondered if there is one common theme or statement which all of us are working on. Not a direct mission statement for each group but an over arching statement of the ultimate goal which we all have been uniquely gifted to address. I see this like the metaphor of many oars in the water rowing in the same direction. Is there something we can all state as the ultimate result of our work? It can’t be something small it has to be a goal, which we cannot reach on our own, it has to be something that even with all of us working together, still requires God’s intervention to accomplish.
The difficultly in developing this goal, may be the very diversity of the people we serve. For example we have created Sunday school classes for every age in our church, our church serves nursery to adults every week. Despite having these programs there are those in our church who don’t want their family members in our classes. They come every week and sit in the service or out in the lobby viewing area or continue to work with the youth department to have their child go to the standard Sunday school options. I have felt a twinge of hurt at times as they pass our room knowing we want to serve them, but I also need to understand that involvement in our program is not the ultimate goal. Having a different classroom to many, could be only a stopgap measure on the road to an ultimately better scenario.