I resisted the call of the doughnuts this morning at church. Walked right up to those boxes of hot Krispy Kremes and snubbed my nose at them. Turned my back on the boxes of chocolate covered, creme filled, jelly injected babies. No powered sugars for me. I am a man of integrity. A man of discipline. A man of strength. I'm also no fool. I could plainly see there was no limit. And no one watching. Well, one person but easily distractable.(there's a little red line under the word distractable. Does that mean it wasn't a word before now?)
Cake doughnuts are my favorite. Well, except for hot glazed. Tell me you haven't sat down and polished off a dozen with a 1/2 gallon of whole milk. But you're limited with those because you can only take one at a time and eat it which means you have to come BACK to get another which means you're back under the watchful eye of the doughnut guardian. They pretend like they've not seen you before as they smile and hand you another. But I know that THEY know I've been there before. And they're counting! I can see the wheels turning in their head. "Hey charity begins at home pal" I imagine myself saying. "So does gluttony" he imagines back. But the cakes are different.
Cake doughnuts are not messy. I discovered this in high school. On the way to school was an Albertsons grocery store that sold 10 doughnuts for a dollar. I know, crazy right? I also figured out I could fit 10 doughnuts in my jacket pocket if I lined them up right. So out I'd walk with 2 lbs. of heaven in my pocket. To be honest, it took me a couple of weeks to get it right because I tried it with chocolate covered, jelly, glazed, custard filled and various others. All to messy and sticky. The chocolate covered were the worst because if people see you pull your hand out of your clothing and it's covered in this brown goo, they jump to conclusions. Wont talk about that one. Turns out, cake doughnuts are perfect for clandestine portability.
The other benefit of cake doughnuts is this. When you burp, the flavor comes back up. And not, as you might expect, with a stomach acid taste mixed in. Just pure, unadulterated cake doughnut taste. It's the food that keeps on giving. And if you eat enough, say ...10, that flavor can last all day. My friends say they would see me all of a sudden get a smile in the middle of class and they knew. The doughnuts.
So this morning I resisted for a few minutes then decided one wouldn't hurt. (that's how it always starts isn't it?) Under the watchful eye "HEIR DOUGHNUT" I got my doughnut and a smile. And all of a sudden I couldn't stop. I had a small child spill a cup of juice to distract the people and I grabbed 4 and stuffed them in my pocket and away I went. When I got into church I had this guilty look on my face. Terri asked what's wrong and I said "nothing". OOOOPS! Crap. She got a whiff. Doughnut breath. Busted.
Well, when I do something like this I'm only cheating on myself. I was watching a movie last night, a true story about a man and wife who risked everything to save their children. The acting was good and you really believed they loved the kids. It made me want to be a better man. Do you ever do that? Go see a movie, go hear an inspirational speaker or preacher and you really get jazzed up and you say "I'm gonna be a better me"? I do that a lot. I get all emotional and cry, tell God tomorrow is gonna be different.
So I wake up and it's more of the same. What makes us do that? Or, don't do that? Why is it so hard to change? To be different? I don't know exactly. Lots of things I suppose. Too much to get into here. I just know that tomorrow is a new day, a new opportunity to be a better me. To be more like my DAD. A chance to let His character to shine through. I wont give up. I "press toward the mark...". I am a good son and proud to be His own. I plan on living in an honorable manner tomorrow. What else can I do? I love Him.
(to be clear, there is no "heir doughnut". We have wonderful people who give out doughnuts. No limit.Well, until now. for me)

store bought

I made a mistake early in my marriage that I've lived to regret. Truth be told, I've made more than one. 6 I think. In the first ten minutes. Not a very auspicious beginning. This particular one had to do with food which we all know is the way to a mans heart. My heart anyway.
The 1950's were( or is it was?) a great decade. Television really took off and everyone had to have one. And they were expensive! But they sold. And people couldn't get enough - even if they only had 2 or 3 channels. Most people don't remember that most stations quit broadcasting in the early evening because there wasn't anything to show (though I can't claim first hand knowledge of this 'cause I was born in the 60's. But I've heard. People would sit and watch. And eat. Enter Mortons , Banquet, and Swansons.
TV dinners. Pot pies. Salisbury steak and gravy. Chicken and veggies.What a wonderful invention. You just open up the box, pop 'em in the oven and in 15 minutes you had a piping hot meal ready to eat. In front of the TV. Finally gone were the days when you had to set a table, eat and then have all those dirty dishes to clean up. Not to mention the rig-a-ma-roll of having to sit and look at one another and talk. So overrated.
Pot pies were the best though. Not the Mortons pot pies. They only had crust on the top. Cheap skates. Did they think we wouldn't notice? Swansons had crust on the bottom as well as the top. This was my pie of choice. Chicken flavor. Seriously though, was there any difference between the turkey or the chicken? They look and taste exactly the same ( in fact, do we really even know if that was real meat in them? Could have been dog. I guess that's meat though...). All I know is that I loved them.
In 6th grade my mom went on vacation with the rest of the kids and left me behind with dad so I could go to summer school. And being the culinary wizard he was, he went out and bought 2 weeks worth of TV dinners and pot pies. And doughnuts. To cover both food groups. I went through my 2 week supply in 4 days because I ate 3 ate a time. Despite what the box says, One does not a serving size make. I ate like a king that week.
Back to my mistake. Going into marriage I KNEW what pot pies should taste like. So I come home from work one evening and was greeted with the vaguely familiar smell of pot pie. "Look honey, I made your favorite- pot pie." Mmmmmm boy! I kiss her and rush to the table and sit.With a big smile on her face she comes over and sets this square dish on the table. Square? Where's the little round tin foil pie pan? "Looks great Terri" I lie. She serves it up. No no no no. This is all wrong I think. Where's the bottom crust!?!? I take a bite and it's good. Real good in fact. But not, in my small mind, as good as Swansons. And using that same small mind, practically filled to the brim with weeks of marital wisdom, I tell her so. It's the last time I've had home made pot pie. She has such a long memory.
I've had so many processed or prepackaged foods over the years that I think THEY are the real thing. Sometimes, I even eat the real thing and think it's just so-so. Pot pies, popcorn, frozen waffles, etc. all taste good. And they'll do.Mostly. But they aren't the real thing. And I'm looking for real. But real is sometimes hard to find. And can be expensive. But worth looking for.
My walk with Jesus is kinda the same. I've never wanted to be Baptist or pentecostal or whatever. I've wanted to be like Peter or Paul or others that have walked with Jesus.I wanted the REAL thing. But over the years I've had an awful lot of the Swanson version of Christianity and have gotten used to the taste. And you know what? I'm a lazy man and have let that be good enough. It gets me by. It's been too easy to follow the "program" and not pursue the good meal. Or pursue with much vigor. Maybe tomorrow I will run after my DAD with more uumpphh . I really do want to "eat and drink of Christ" all my days....

My chair

Christmas 1973 was my year. It was the year I got the best the best gift I never got. No that's not a typo. I never got. It was a gift given to someone else in the family but it became mine. Possession is nine tenths of the law right? I think that was the year we got our first microwave- an Amana "radar range". I guess that was when the Moon shots was still the rage so something with "radar" in the name made it sound more futuristic. Mom was all a twitter about it. I didn't get what the big deal was - it was as big as a Curtiss Mathiss TV and all it did was heat cold coffee. That wasn't the gift I am talking about though.
I'm sitting in an antique office chair that is probably what you're required to sit on as you burn in hell. It is so uncomfortable. I was doing some work for a woman late last year and she was throwing out this chair so I asked if I could have it. My office chair was an old kitchen chair so I needed an up grade and this seemed to fit the bill. Except that it's not comfortable and it's about to fall apart. And I think it's scratching the floor. And it squeaks. "Other than that Mrs. Lincoln, how was the show"? I'm a sucker for this kind of thing though. When I was in college I found the same kind of antique chair in a dumpster behind the Methodist church and loved it for many years. It wasn't comfortable either.(at some point in my development I will realize things in dumpsters or on trash heaps are there for a reason. But I hope it's not until I'm older)
So what does this have to do with the Christmas gift? It was a chair. My mom got my dad a Lazy Boy rocker recliner- burnt orange in color (it was the 70's). You know, I didn't think much about it at the time, I mean, it was just a chair and I was 10. What do 10 year old's know about chairs except you got whipped if you spill something on it. I did. And I did. But I learned.
I wasn't allowed to watch "All in the Family" much as a kid but I gleaned one important fact- a man has to have a chair. And in our house hold, it was to be this burnt orange chair.Before the chair came along we sat on orange crates and tree stumps. It was so plush and comfortable. You sat in it and the chair wrapped it's arms around you and rocked you to sleep. And to my surprise and delight, my dad didn't care that much for it. He was more of a stationary sitter.He was a smoker at the time and based on my own abilities, I don't think he could smoke and rock at the same time. So it became MY chair. God is good!
Leaving for college was a sad time for me because of the separation anxiety. Not from my family but my chair. We had spent a lot of time together. I'd rocked through 3 sets of springs. But what a joyful day it was when my mom came to visit and brought the chair. Reunited at last.
And I wore it out. I rocked through 3 more sets of springs. It got dirty. The upholstery was torn in several spots. And there was never a more comfortable chair. It was really an embarrassment for Terri when we had folks over because the seat was ripped and it was covered with a towel. Finally the day came in 1994 when we just had to get rid of it. I now know what people feel like when they have to put their dog down. I took it to the dump and pushed it out of the back of the truck. I cried. As I drove away I kept looking in the rear view. A sad sense of longing followed me home.
well, life moves on. Nothing lasts forever even though we want it to. Sigh.I have a Lazy Boy now. It's brown. It's comfortable. And I've rocked through 3 sets of springs on this one too. It was a gift from Terri. Because every man needs a chair.

walking

Walking by faith. It's what we're supposed to do but what does that mean? I used to know so much. Do you ever feel that way? Now I think I don't know anything for sure. It's like people with no kids telling some one with a 2 year old how to raise them. Or a teenager. I worked on a construction crew in West Palm Beach building fancy mansions and sometimes an architect would design something on paper that couldn't be done in wood. We'd say "he obviously never picked up a hammer...". Sometimes life changes your perspective. Not the truth, Just how we look at it. Life is not "3 easy steps to..." , It's a curvy, winding road with hills and valleys and more pot holes that I could have imagined. The thing I would have had the hardest time imagining is that I would dig most of the pot holes!
So. Walk by faith. Most of the times I've heard this it concerns money. As in you don't have enough and these are the only spiritual words I have in my arsenal I can throw at you. It's mostly 'cause I'm not smart or wise enough to tell you how I would act in your situation.(and isn't this what discipleship is, telling some one what you've learned in dealing with similar situations?)
I remember in college I was gung ho for Jesus and I wanted to do every thing the bible said. Well, most of the stuff. I can still here myself praying "...and I want to trust You for daily needs. I want just what it takes to make it through today and we'll talk about the next day when it comes." I really did. I just wanted to be close to my DAD, to hear His voice,to see what He was doing. I wanted to do His stuff with Him. He meant a lot to me then.
But then I started to grow up. I got married. I had children. A car. A house. A JOB. As much as I had not wanted it in college, I was( and still am) stuck with the American dream. And I don't even have that much stuff!I've created this world for myself and family I guess because as an American it's what comes next after college. And it looks good on us. Shows we're on the "right" side of the tracks. But in pursuing this road I've turned from walking by faith to walking " by Mark". Whatever I can provide. And If I get in a pinch, I know God's got my back. Sheesh.
It's not comfortable for me to trust God. I want to you know it's just that my faith in my own abilities is stronger than the faith in my DAD. I've been exercising the wrong faith muscle. But I'd like that to change and I may have that opportunity at this point of my life.
Why is this on my mind? It really came about Jan. 1 on the Today Show. There was a story about a man (Joe Ades) who sold potato peelers on the streets of NYC. And he made a lot of money- selling $5 peelers. He had a Park Ave. apartment, ate in fine restaurants and hob-nobbed with the wealthy. But he spent what he earned very quickly. Asked if he was worried money for the future since he had none, He said no, that the exciting part of living was the challenge of getting up the next day and doing whatever it took to make a living. There was a gleam in his eye as he spoke. He had life!
I want there to be a gleam in my eye. A gleam when I tell someone about my faith in my DAD and his provision. His kindness to me. His caring of me and my family. I have an opportunity to exercise my faith muscle for a while. I really hope I do it and not rely on myself. Again. I kinda want to be like Joe Ades. Mostly though, I want to make my DAD proud.

So tired tonight.I worked all day today and was tired through it all. Sigh. I've wanted to type something since I got up this morning and was so excited to get home and "get it down on paper". The trouble is, my mind is blank. I got nothin'. It's the same feeling I had in almost all my finals in college. It must be writers block but can you get writers block at the beginning of your writing career? Really? Have I run out of stuff already? Well, it was nice while it lasted...
So how do I write my final column? Column? Really, have I been that delusional? Ok, so blog. I've written a BLOG for one week now. Not a "column". I suppose a confession is in order. No, not plagiarism. Have you read my stuff? In keeping with other famous people, Mark McGuire admitting to steroids, Tiger Woods admitting to...Tigerisms, I have something I've been dying to get off my chest.
A few years ago, on a day I wasn't feeling too well and it was cold and rainy I decided to go see a movie. Some action flick that Terri had no interest in seeing, I don't even remember the name.Movie and popcorn on a rainy afternoon does a body good. The only problem was that I didn't tell Terri. And I should have. But I thought she might have been mad. But then it happened again a month or two later. And then a few weeks later. It wasn't about the money at first but the fact I wasn't telling Terri. And I was missing work. Well, this has been going on for a few years now, meanwhile, my business has suffered and I've spent money on movies and popcorn when I could barely pay the mortgage. It's like a drug addiction - I can't stop. I keep saying "this is the last movie..." but it never is. I am so ashamed. I am so weak. Well, they say admitting you have a problem is the first step to the cure. We shall see. We shall see. I hope God will be merciful to me.
well, that's all I have to say for my last column. Sorry. Blog.If it has been meaningful in any way to you I wish you'd let me know. I know how hard it is to overcome stuff. And one last thing...everything I've written in this column,sorry, blog, is absolutely false. I've never been to a movie without Terri's knowledge in my life- we keep no secrets(except the 1st Batman movie in 1989.sorry)I was just trying to get a rise out of her. If you don't here from me for a while it's 'cause it got too big a rise....

Being prepared

I went to a bible study last night. Home group we call it but it meets at the church. Hummm. Well, I guess it's Gods house so that's ok. We ( Terri and me ) haven't been going that much of late because it's on Thursday nights and Survivor's on that night. It's weak but the only excuse I've got. So we went last night - kind of a last minute decision. I should say that me and bible studies, or church for that matter don't get along too well. My mind wanders, I'm fidgety, and the music is too loud. Do you ever see that kid in church sitting next to his mom, with his cute tie and dress shirt on and he's looking up at the ceiling counting ceiling tiles? Or the pin holes in the ceiling tiles. That's me. Now. So I don't do sitting very well. They tell me I'll grow out of it...
So we show up and do the chit - chat thing, the snack and drink thing and then get down to business...the teaching! ...1 ceiling tile, 2 ceiling tile, 3 ceiling tile... . It's the Beatitudes tonight. "Blessed are the..." 4 ceiling tile, 5 ceiling tile..."Blessed are the merciful...KNOCK,KNOCK,KNOCK!!! I turn and look at the door and there is a man at the door and he motions ME to come out. I'm sitting in a plush couch so I motion for HIM to come in. So he comes in with his wife and child and tell us a story about his car burning up in Alabama(how'd he get here?) and he came here to the VA for something or the other. I forgot the details. He was looking for money or a ride to a motel where they had their stuff. We didn't really have anything to give so it was a little awkward for a moment. For them too. It must have been hard for them. Finally some one said we had some food and to please help themselves so they went to the back of the room and ate.
Soooo back to your previously scheduled bible study. "blessed are the merciful...". Munch, munch, munch, crunch, crunch, crunch. Glug,glug,glug. Mmmmm. Aahhhh. Munch,crunch,glug. How can you have a bible study with all this going on? Strangers eating our food(well,ok so I didn't actually bring any food) while we're trying to go about our business as usual. Very uncomfortable for me . Like, whats next? What's are we supposed to do after they finish eating? Thankfully for this family, I was not in charge. I would have dropped the ball so completely. I was not ready. I was not prepared. I was NOT prepared!
I am grateful for the others at the group that night. They WERE prepared. One woman said she and her daughter had felt God wanting them to use their home for some one who needed help. She practically jumped up and insisted they stay at her house.One guy left to go to the atm for cash, and gave them a ride to the hotel their stuff was at. We prayed for them. Some knew just what to pray for. These peoples needs were being met by people who were prepared.They were not being met by me- too busy counting ceiling tiles. I'm so ashamed.
It was just yesterday so I don't know what happened with them today. I suppose it could all been a scam and we got taken advantage of.Don't think so though. But whatever the case I learned something yesterday. The Boy Scouts have it right you know. "Always be prepared". It's my intent to pay attention to my DAD and see what He's doing. To be on my toes, looking for opportunities to get involved in His doings. To be prepared...

silence

I had a good day of work today. Finished one job started another and another one tomorrow. I usually listen to the radio or audio book but I'm trying to stop and just listen to silence for a while. To be alone with my thoughts. And if they're my thoughts, I'm very alone. Well, not really. In fact I have the opposite problem. My marriage counselor (Yep, marriage counselor. Sorry to spoil the image of perfection. He's on speed dial...) says I have A.D.D. or something close to it. I prefer to say I'm child-like. Anyway, my thoughts don't stick around for long and anything profound or just interesting disappears if I don't write it down.I have a note pad to write stuff down but the thought of putting it in my pocket vanishes before I can get around to doing it. Sigh. So I have a very active mind.
I've worked for myself for 14 years and I've worked alone so I have lost the art of casual conversation. At least while I work. For some reason I can't push a brush and roller and talk at the same time (insert "walk and chew gum" joke here). I have to stop and listen. Which is ok 'cause I enjoy conversation. But time is money. It bugs me to see workers jawing instead of working. It's because they work for 12 bucks an hour and not the company. Grrr. So where was I going with this?(A.D.D.!) Oh. So I'm on a ladder and in my silence I'm trying to listen to the voice of my DAD. I ask all kinds of questions, tell Him my woes, tell Him good stuff. tell Him a few jokes (He never laughs which is killing my ego...). I would LOVE to hear back. I do some, but what I have in mind is more like a conversation. Of course maybe He knows I'd never get work done (how much work would YOU get done if God was talking to you...?). I just want it to be like a Father/son business and we'd both be out there doin' the stuff together. Well, that's what I want. Will I get it? I don't know. Is that how it was for Jesus?(talk about a Father/Son business!!) But I'm willing to pursue it. It all starts, for me, with silence......
Let me know about your conversations with God.

snake

I have a snake. I've had snakes quite often over the years but they always manage to escape. Which is why I'm not allowed to keep them in the house. It always amazes me how they find their way out but I guess the have nothing better to do than look. And eat. which is why I have had them. When I was a kid (a younger kid) my cousins had a boa constrictor and when we'd visit they would feed him. Or her. How can you tell? Anyway, I just was fascinated to see them drop a mouse in and the boa would pounce, or the snake equivalent of pounce, and breakfast was served.
I'm a guy, mostly a kid if truth be told, and I like guy things. Except for my daughter, snakes are a guy thing. And we like them, not 'cause we like to hold them or they're cute, but because we like to see them kill and eat. I have a 2' corn snake and I bought a mouse that I knew was too big. Or I thought I knew. Really, how do you know what's too big. Or better yet , how do they know? They have a brain the size of a bb. So I dropped him in and ZAP ! Snakes can move soo fast.I know it's gross but I like to see him wrap himself around the poor, unsuspecting mouse who squeaks once (which roughly translated means "oh crap...") then his eyes bulge and his leg twitches and it's over. Then the snake opens his mouth impossibly wide and swallows the mouse. I've done this many times and each time I do it I just watch in wonder.
Wonder. What is that? To sit and stare in awe? To be so fascinated you can't take your eyes off something? You say "how can that be?" or "wow" or "how is that possible?". I get like that every time I watch a snake eat. Wonder
I'll tell you when I don't get like that often enough. When I sit with God. Or walk with Him. I'm not fascinated. I don't go "oh WOW" enough. I'm mostly too busy with the things of life I just don't pay enough attention. I've lost that sense of wonder. It comes in spurts but it's not a way of life. I want better. For Him. He deserves so much "WOW". I'm praying that He'll open up my mine to His WOWness. He is deserving of my fascination, my wonder. How 'bout you?

What did you sign up for? You know, what did you expect it would be like when you became a christian? I think like a lot of people who "got saved" when they were young, I had no expectations. I just didn't want to go to hell. I had a wonderful youth minister who showed up when I was a junior or senior in high school and he was different. He didn't get involved as much in the games and activities of the kids like other guys before him. He was interested in Jesus. It's not to say his predecessors weren't, just not like him. He did stuff for and WITH Jesus. He was fresh out of seminary where he did the stuff (Jesus stuff) not for class credit, not for pay, not 'cause his sunday school class was doing it. He did it because it was what Jesus was doing. So he got on board and changed lives. He seemed to really know God , not just about him. It was an amazing 2 years I spent with him. I learned a lot. But it wasn't the bible though. Oh there was that to be sure but what I really learned was this dude KNEW Jesus. He talked, listened, smiled with and at Jesus. He had fun with God.
THAT is what I signed up for. Well, not at first but I grew into it. God was real. I saw it in this mans life. This is what I wanted to be when I grew up. They say the most spiritual people you know also live 500 miles away. You can't really see their life. You just hear the stories. Well, a man who loved Jesus lived 5 miles away and I got to see him a lot.And he really did love Jesus. So I wanted to be THIS kind of christian. I wanted to wake up each morning and really meet Jesus. Eat bowl of oatmeal and toast with Jesus and say "what are we doing today"?. Then we'd go do it. I'd open the good book and Holy Spirit would say "check his part out" . We'd spend good parts of the day just talking. Not praying. Just talking. Then in the end, He'd tuck me in, kiss me good night and we'd do it all over again tomorrow. That happened some. But not often enough.
Funny where you end up in life. Or sad. The alcoholic doesn't plan to be one. Nor the drug addict. Or the porn addict. They just kind of ease into it. Over time. Hard days. Lonely nights. Bad jobs, relationships and money. Me? I'm addicted alright. To laziness. Which has led in part to where I am most of the time- a luke warm christian. I sorta love Jesus. I mean, I love him. Just not with the intensity I imagined I would at this point in life. I'm supposed to be a grown up after all. But life. Life happened to me. Wife, children, jobs, house, cars, cats, bills. The american dream. Some dream. It's not that those things are bad in and of themselves. I've just not managed them well. I've loved the dream but not the giver of dreams. So here I am, mostly luke warm. But I still want what I signed up for. I really do. I want to love God. To talk. To do. To be His friend. Is that too much to ask? We'll see...tomorrow is a new day....

getting started

Ok, so here I go. This is sooo freaky. I can tell you that 6 months ago if you'd have told me that I would write a blog I'd have said you were nuts! Who knows though, this may be my one and only.... . You know, I'm not really sure why I want to write one. I just feel the need to write. I like to write but have two problems ( ok, so I have numerous problems but two concerning this ) : I can't type and I'm not smart enough to write much. I'm smart but I'm not always good with words. I have thoughts through out the day and some are profound(surprising huh?) but I will forget them or can't string together the thoughts in a coherant way which makes them pretty useless. But I'm going to try.
Sooooo, what to write about? My life with Jesus I guess. Nice to start off with a strong assertive mission statement. I have been a christian since 9th or 10th grade and have tried to walk with Jesus ever since. I've even managed to keep up some times! He has been so kind and patient through the years, giving everything I need for life and godliness. But really, knowing where I'm at in my relationship with God, my maturity level and my knowledge of all things God, I should be fired. But He is good and so very kind. So I will continue to walk with Him. Forever. But looking at my past I'd say it's less a walk and more a stumble.( hence, the name of my blog ) I've managed to stumble in the right direction so hopefully that will continue on into the future.
For now I'll just blog from time to time as things come to mind and I can hold the thoughts together long enough to get them on paper. Or computer. Or what ever . If the things I learn or experience throughout my day or week are of benefit to you I'd like to know about it. E-mail or call. I'd love to here some feedback. I'm doing this for me so I can put together a record of Gods work in my life and the lives of those around me. But I'd like to here back. I will try to be real. I'm not always pretty. I've said before I want to be a better me. Maybe this will be helpful. To me and you.
And now a note to my dad: You have been so faithful to me from day one and your kindness and selfless work on my behalf is nothing short of God like. Despite my short comings ( and man are there so many ) you continue to love me. And it makes me feel like a wretch some times. How can you do it after so many failures through the years. It's just you. My hope is that tomorrow I'll get up and love you with the same gusto You have in loving me. Lets go....