Thank you for your service

Costco Wholesale Warehouse is an absolute gold mine around lunch time. Vendors set up 
tables all over the mammoth store, hawking all sorts of samples ranging from vitamin juice 
shots to mini crab cakes. I used to make sure that I would go there with the kids so that we 
would have at least one day when we didn’t have to meal plan.

    
I don’t shop there all the time because we simply can’t afford to. Not that the prices are bad, 
it’s just that I don’t know when to stop. Instead, I will go every month or so to stock up on bulk 
supplies of juice boxes, salsa, pizza rolls, peanut butter, and whatever items I am convinced 
that my family cannot live without. 

     
Perhaps the biggest, if only, drawback to Costco is that it is always crowded. Every aisle is 
clogged with shoppers pushing oversized carts full of their choice of essential goods and, 
while no one is necessarily rude about the rules of the road, it can get pretty dicey navigating 
tight corners and attempting to cross from the snacks to the pasta section. 

    
Whenever I encounter an aisle that’s a little too congested for my comfort, I will backtrack and 
take an alternative route, as if I have some secret shortcut that no one else knows about. Not 
long ago when I was shopping for the next few week’s worth of supplies, as I wheeled my cart 
filled with a 120-count box of granola bars and enough gummy bears to choke a small elephant, 
I encountered a roadblock that had me quickly throwing it into reverse into a detour down the 
next aisle. It contained socks and men’s off brand running shoes, so it was a much safer 
passage.

     
Rounding the corner that would allow me to bypass this latest obstruction, I paused for a 
moment to take in exactly who it was that had caused this latest inconvenience. There in the 
middle of the adjacent aisle was an older gentleman, possibly in his 80’s, hunched slightly at 
the waist and using his shopping cart as a walker. He was traveling at the speed of slow, which 
for him was just fine because he was in absolutely no hurry at all. 

     
On his head he wore a baseball cap, one of those military hats that veterans of wars and armed 
conflicts wear with obvious pride. The insignia on the front told me that he had served in the 
Korean War. My grandfather operated the radio on a B25 bomber during World War 2 in the 
Pacific theater and I knew all about those islands he flew over and the enemy he fought.

I have read books about Guadalcanal and Bougainville and other exotic sounding places where 
our American GI’s fought tooth and nail against the Japanese for what amount to nothing more 
than isolated plots of land made mostly of coral. On these islands we began to win the war 
against Japan, keeping them from overtaking Australia and the rest of the Pacific region. My 
grandfather never spoke much about his time over there, but I know he must have seen and 
experienced some incredible, and horrific, things.

The war in Korea I admittedly knew very little about. I know that we tried to help South Korea 
hold the communists at bay and eventually were successful in doing so, but that’s really about 
it. Nevertheless, I have a great amount of respect for anyone who has served this country in the 
military and I learned a long time ago that it was a good and right act to thank those servicemen 
face-to-face whenever you saw them. Especially if they were wearing those special kind of hats. 

As this elderly hero made his way down the aisle, I purposefully stood in his way so that I could 
garner his attention. I wasn’t all that concerned that he would run me over with his cart because 
of his lack of momentum, but I was careful all the same to watch out for my toes. Right as he was 
about to bump my cart, he stopped and looked up, staring me straight in the eyes. I quickly 
gathered myself and told him in the strongest voice I could muster, “Thank you for your service.” 

Without missing a beat, he replied, “It was my honor to serve you and my country and, if I had 
the chance, I would storm the border of Korea all over again in order to make sure that you 
stayed safe.” Instantly I felt my eyes start to sweat and any response that I could have made 
was stuck in my throat as if I was choking on a piece of steak.

Mesmerized by his response, I stood frozen in place, unable to reply. Here was this weathered 
and worn veteran who could no longer tie his own shoes, now declaring his desire to re-defend 
this country if that’s what it took. Shaking off my stupor, I was finally able to feebly respond to 
him, thanking him again for his service, words which now seemed pathetically inadequate. This 
genuine hero offered a satisfied smile and began to shuffle on his way towards the peanut 
butter and honey section. I in turn quickly turned my cart in the other direction to head toward 
the ice cream and fruit punch.

As I padded my way, avoiding more carts and the glut of consumers, I could not help but admit 
with a bit of sadness that they simply don’t make men like that anymore.

Why are all these new "original" shows anything but original?

"Help, Lord, for no faithful one remains; the loyal have disappeared from the human race...The wicked wander everywhere, and what is worthless is exalted by the human race." - Psalm 12:1, 8

I love a good story. For years books have been my go-to if I want to lose myself in a thrilling plot twist or I simply wish to allow my mind to meander through deep wooded areas that are cut off from all civilization. Whoever said that it is easy to get lost in a book was not kidding. I somewhat lament that my kids don't enjoy reading as much as I do, however when they do find a book that captivates their imagination, I love to see how it invigorates their creativity and moves their souls.

With all of the technology of today, books have not necessarily become passe - but they have been somewhat replaced by the visual medium of movies and television as the dominant storytellers of our time. This isn't such a bad thing, even though most people will admit that "the book is better than the movie."

Streaming services such as Netflix and Amazon Video have produced more than enough original options to entertain the person who desires to spend his weekend binging on the latest new series or movie. In fact, these two services are seemingly pumping out more new content that the average consumer can watch. However, as I have taken the time to check out some of this original content that is being produced, I have noticed the tiring trend towards over-sexualization that has caused me to push the stop button and move in a different direction.

Why must there be so much trashy content in an otherwise compelling show? People complain about the sexual content of broadcast television shows and with good reason, yet streaming services have no buffer against the amount of sleaze that they can include in their original creations. And this is a shame, because honestly most of these shows contain enough suspense and intrigue to drive the plot forward without having to throw in sex scenes or NSFW dialogue.

Before you call me a prude and tell me that this is just art and should be interpreted as such, let me remind you that there have been decades of great movies and shows that have relied on the ability of the actors and dynamic plot lines to drive the story forward without the necessity of having someone bare it all or tell it all. "But this is the real world - it's everywhere! You can't hide from it and act like it doesn't exist!" True, but why embrace it if I don't have to?

The above verses from the book of Psalms illustrate where we have come as well as we are heading as a society. And you don't have to be a Christian or even a religious person to see the truth in this. What was once sacred has now been stripped of its value and has been put on display for the whole world to gawk at as if it is some county fair sideshow. When we as a society begin to place a higher value on that which cheapens a healthy and holy view of intimacy and sexuality, then indeed "the wicked wander everywhere, and what is worthless is exalted by the human race."

Yes, I am free to turn the channel and to choose not to watch these shows and movies. Unfortunately, there is so much freedom of content out there that one has no idea when a racy scene in an otherwise enjoyable show will pop up out of nowhere. I desire to not only protect myself from this kind of stuff but my children as well. You can watch what you want and tell yourself that it's just art, but I want to protect my heart and my mind from that which will drive me farther away from Jesus.

To all of you writers, producers and directors - I promise you, if you make a great movie or show and drive it forward with a gripping plot and awesome character development, people will watch and you won't need to capitalize on skin and trash to gather an audience. Now THAT would be original!

Broken bones, but not broken dreams

This is what a broken and dislocated forearm on a 9-year-old girls looks like. Unfortunately this belongs to my youngest daughter, Emme, who accomplished this after trying to catch herself from hitting the floor after falling off the balance beam at gymnastics. Accidents happen - and sometimes they really hurt! - but sometimes they affect more than just your physical well-being.

If you watch sports or have a child who plays sports or were an athlete yourself, then you know that injuries are often part of the game. Not everyone experiences bone-crushing fractures or career-ending injuries - most of the time it's knocks and bumps and the occasional bruise. But there are those moments where you watch an athlete's future dissipate before his or her eyes by an injury that prohibits them from coming back. And that is hard to watch.

As someone who has never really experienced any of this in the athletic arena, I've often wondered what it's like to receive the crushing news from a doctor or trainer that you might not be able to compete at the same level again. Even if you are just a weekend warrior and enjoy recreational sports leagues - which are awesome, by the way - I am sure that not being able to play at the same level as you once did can be frustrating if not even depressing.

So as I watched my budding young gymnast lie on the ground in obvious pain, my primary focus was making sure that she was okay and taken care of. But then as we were riding in the ambulance to the hospital, the inevitable thoughts came into my mind - Will she be able to do gymnastics again? And even if the physical healing is 100%, will she want to jump on that beam again after what happened? Will she even want to?

Sure, she's pretty new to the sport, but she is incredibly driven and has big dreams - she's already considering UCLA and Alabama for college because, according to her, "They have the best gymnastics teams." And she recently joined a team that will begin competition soon, which she has been working really hard to be ready for. How would she respond to the fact that even if she does make a full recovery it will still be months before she is able to even attempt the kind of moves she was doing before the accident? And what about us as parents - how will we help her through the potential disappointment of not being able to compete, both now and perhaps in the future?

It was right then and there, as these thoughts swirled through my brain, that I realized it would not matter to me one bit if my daughter ever wanted to slip on the leotard and get back to the gym. I am proud of her for trying her best and for being so brave to try a sport that I personally find pretty scary. And then she showed us more of what she is really made of.

After surgery and a brief time in recovery, she said she was ready to go home. Once there, she read out loud all of the get well cards that her classmates sent her and then she invited her friends over to hang out. She shared her Chick-Fil-A fries with them and hung out on the couch watching cheesy Disney shows with them, making sure that they were properly entertained and cared for. When she needed help from me or my wife, she was unafraid to ask for it. She also said she didn't want the pain medication that the doctor prescribed - she didn't like how it made her feel. And not once has she complained about being in pain or the fact that it could be months before she can go back in the gym again. The only disappointment she showed was not being able to go to school tomorrow.

I gotta be honest, it's times like these when I really look up to my kids and hope I can learn from them. As an adult, it's not a broken bone that concerns me but rather the potential for my dreams to be shattered. Yet here is a nine-year-old girl who is unafraid to take what life gives her and make it into something sweet.

Sometimes our dreams aren't the dreams that God has for us and sometimes we just need a little extra time before we can see our dreams fulfilled. But regardless of the circumstances, it is up to us to determine how we will handle life's ups and downs along the way. Jesus told us not to worry (Matthew 6:33) and Paul echoed that sentiment (Philippians 4:6). And they did so not because what we experience does not affect us or is unimportant but rather because God is greater than any difficulty or struggle we could ever encounter.

Dreams are great and we should keep on striving to live the dreams that God has placed in our hearts. Sometimes life will throw a wrench in our plans and derail these dreams, even if only temporarily. But if we keep our eyes on Jesus - "Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness" - then we can know that regardless of the outcome that we desired, God will always give us exactly what we need - "and all of these things will be added unto you."

I'll take one order of higher ground to go, please

Higher ground. It's where people go when rising waters threaten to devastate their homes and everything else that they cherish. Going to higher ground during a major hurricane or flood is a no-brainer. If you stay where you are, then there is really only one option - you will get soaked at best and washed away at worst. Who wants to drown in swirling waters when there is a safe refuge nearby?

America just finished a contentious election. I know, I'm Master of the Obvious, right? Social media has allowed America's citizens to voice their glee and dismay, optimism and devastation at the click of a few buttons. Depending upon whom your digital "friends" are, you have probably seen a whole host of not-so-friendly posts from those who believe a new age of awesomeness has been ushered in - or is it a new age of going to hell in a hand basket?

Every single time I read someone's impassioned thoughts on social media, I realize that there will be many vultures coming out of the woodwork to pick at the meat of those thoughts. This is not always a bad thing. I love the fact that we have dissenting voices in America because I truly believe that diversity is a beautiful thing.

But let's be honest. What you and I have seen and heard the past few days has been anything but beautiful, much less helpful. I get it - people are angry and upset or elated and overjoyed. Yet time and time again I've seen my friends and acquaintances wade back into the danger zone of a flood of emotions and vitriol that has no exit door.

It's time to take the higher ground.

I am not one to tip my hat to my political leanings because, well, they are kind of complicated. I am a registered Independent and I do my best to vote issues, not people. But man, it has been so difficult these past couple of days to refrain from responding to bigoted, arrogant, selfish, and near-sighted posts from many of my friends on social media! Yet I have avoided doing just that.

Why? Besides the obvious that I've yet to ever see a social media post about politics ever make the world a better place, I choose to take the higher ground. And that's not because I'm some sort of exceptional person or anything. It's just that I realized that if I got me feet even just a little bit wet in the flood of negativity, vitriol, and hate, then the rest of me would be swimming before long.

Look, if you're mad, then I get it. And if you are celebrating, I get it too. Yet I also realize that our country is divided into many different segments of people who have radically different world views of which they are zealously passionate. And while there are a few people out there that actually want to discuss issues, most want to assassinate another person's character, whether that person is the winner, the loser, or sitting in front of a keyboard. Thanks, but no thanks.

My friends, please take the higher ground. Before you dip your toe into that cesspool of incivility and hatred, head for the hills. Log off of social media. Refrain from pushing the "hate" and "ignorance" buttons on your keyboard. Some of the best agents of change were those who anticipated disaster and took a different route to avoid it altogether. Never heard of them? That's the whole point. If you are someone who has already voiced toxic opinions, then you can't take back what you have said (or typed) but you can step toward the higher ground.

Can I leave you with the most amazing example of what this looks like? 2,000 years ago a man named Jesus took everything that His haters could throw at Him and the only defense He took was with the truth that He proclaimed. As a result, He received a death sentence. Even then He chose to respond not with hate but instead took the higher ground on a cross perched on hill outside of town. He did this for you and He did this for me so that we could be saved from our sin and ourselves and thus take the higher ground in the future - that perch from which we could also treat our friends and neighbors and fellow country men with the same love and respect that He afforded to us.

Get out of the water and take to higher ground. It's not too late.

Fridays are for finishers

Fridays are the best days of the week. Period. Need proof? How about these sweet lyrics from George Jones:

It's finally Friday
I'm free again
I got my motor running for a wild weekend
It's finally Friday
I'm outa' control
Forget the workin' blues
And let the good times roll.

Sorry that you now have that song stuck in your head. And yeah, maybe that song isn't so awesome after all, but Friday IS all that and a bag of chips. Here are some reasons why:

• Friday night high school football games in the fall
• The one night of the week you can stay up really late because you can always sleep in on Saturday
• In our western culture, Friday marks the finish line to a grueling week of work and school
• Square fish sandwiches in schools on Friday (do they still do that?)

Anyway, Fridays are simply awesome. I always loved Friday because it was the one day of the week growing up that I was convinced I could make it through because I knew what waited for me on the other side. Did I mention fish sandwiches in school on Fridays?

I've heard others try to downplay the importance of Fridays as if people like me use Friday as an excuse to quit trying so hard. After all, they say, every day is just as important as the next and should receive the same amount of effort as Friday. Maybe, but that's missing the real point about Fridays.

You see, I think Fridays are awesome because they mark the natural finish line of what most of us began on Monday. For those of you in cultures that use Friday as a weekend day of worship or your calendar is not like the one I use, just pretend that Friday is as awesome as I say it is, okay?

Fridays are for finishers.

What does that mean?

Ask anyone how they feel about Mondays and more than likely they will speak of Mondays like they are satanic curses, unless of course Mondays are the days that they get paid. Then Mondays are awesome! But under normal circumstances, Mondays are loathed at best. Monday to many is the beginning of the grind, the necessary evil of a new week at school or work or both. Mondays make the weekend seem so far away.

But alas, don't fret! Friday is coming! Friday represents the finish of what you started on Monday. By 5:00 Friday, you have put your 40 hours in. By the 3:00 on Friday, you've finished another week of classes. While this may sound more shallow than a George Jones song, there is something really valuable about propping up Friday to such a high standing.

We live in a world where people don't know what it means to finish anything. They quit their jobs when their boss hurts their feelings, they quit their marriages when they think they've run out of love, and they fail to honor their commitments when they think that something better has come along. How many books have you started yet failed to finish? Guilty as charged.

Other than a full-scale revival of the church, what we need more than anything are FINISHERS! Only those who complete the task fully can declare that they are truly finished. Jesus Himself created this concept when He cried, "It is finished!" as He breathed His last on the cross.

Not long ago I watched a video of an Naval Admiral as he addressed a group of college students at their graduation. He said something in that video that was so profound that I had to watch it again: To change the world, start by making your bed. Seriously, that's what he said. And here is what he meant by that: If you start the day by making your bed, then you've already accomplished something before you've even walked out the door. In other words, you've completed a task before your day even begins. And if you finish something as simple as making your bed, then it will be easier for you to tackle and finish more important tasks the rest of your day.

Will making your bed every morning guarantee that you will finish those critical obligations that loom over you? Not necessarily, but if you start with finishing then at least you will know what finishing feels like. And finishing feels great because when you finish something - and especially if you finish it well - then you will rarely have to live with the regret of "what if."

Let me finish with this great quote by Brad Lomenick from his book H3 Leadership:

Choose to outwork everyone. Great leaders are great finishers.

My friends, strive to finish well.

Don't be THAT parent!

My son played in a local recreation league soccer game this past weekend against a team from another part of our county and, as has been the result all season, they lost. Each week I go to watch my son play and support him from the sidelines, and this winless streak has been really challenging to digest. You see, this is the third season in a row where his soccer team - which have all been different teams with different players - has yet to win a game. They say that losing builds character. Honestly, I don't know how much more character my son needs.

When you have a child who plays a sport, you of course want them to win, but at the same time you have to realize that your nine-year-old child is probably not drawing a lot of college scouts at this point, so it's okay to not stress over the outcomes too terribly much. When I am on the sidelines, I am there to watch my son play. What I mean is, I don't holler at him and try to coach him from the cheap seats. He has a coach for that. I go to support him and then when we get home we talk about the game and I encourage him and offer instruction in areas that may need improvement. He doesn't need me to push him unnecessarily. Most kids don't need or want that anyway.

But of course, if you are THAT parent, this is exactly what you do.

THAT parent had a child on the other team that my son played and lost to on Saturday. THAT parent constantly verbally challenged the referee on the calls that didn't go his team's way. Ironically enough, THAT parent was incorrect about almost every challenge that he verbalized, but I didn't want to interfere with his delusion. Finally, THAT parent's son challenged a ball that our goalkeeper had already grabbed, kicking at the ball when our keeper already had it well under control. The referee cautioned this young man against committing such an action again, when THAT parent decided it was time for him to take over the game.

THAT parent loudly called out from the sideline to his son, "Good job, son. Do it again." Was THAT parent actually encouraging his son to kick another player when he had the ball? Uncertain of what had just been said, the referee stopped play and looked at THAT parent and cautioned him against such behavior. Sure enough, THAT parent yelled to his son again, "Hey son, good job at trying to kick that ball away. Do it again." The referee then cautioned THAT parent that, if he has one more such outburst, he would be asked to leave the field. Guess what happened? THAT parent called to his son one more time, "Do it again son, you're doing great!"

Imagine the scene for a moment. Here is THAT parent encouraging his son to commit a sports act that was forbidden in the rules. Think of a parent yelling from the bleachers for his son, who is a baseball pitcher, to throw the ball at the next batter's head. Yeah, that's not very cool. Yet this is what we were all witnessing and the kids on the field from both teams just stood there and took all of this in. Parenting Fail 101 in full display.

The referee approached THAT parent and asked him to leave the field, which to no one's surprise he refused to do. The referee then had to approach the coach of the team for THAT parent's son and asked her to intervene, which she did. She told THAT parent that, if he did not leave the park, then their team would have to forfeit the rest of the game that they already had well in hand. At this, THAT parent threw his hands up in innocent protest and walked to the parking lot, where he attempted to take in the remainder of the game from a distance.

Once the game was over, the first thing my son said to me had to do with the incident involving THAT parent. Sure, he was upset about another loss, yet more vivid in his mind was what he had witnessed THAT parent doing and saying on the field of play. We had a brief conversation about the incident, but there was no need for me to tell my son about the ethical nature of that situation. He had seen THAT parent acting the fool and no one needed to explain to him what he had seen.

Look, I want to win just as much as the next guy. I long to see my son attain soccer glory and hoist the league cup one day on the shoulders of his teammates. Yet I also realize that if fail to teach my son how to win with grace and lose with class, that I have indeed failed my son. I could imagine THAT parent taking his son to Chuck E. Cheese's after the game and reveling with him over his near miss at inflicting injury on another player. And then I can only hope that THAT parent's son will be able to detach himself from such insanity and realize that there are certain legacies that are not worth attaching himself to.

Winning will always be awesome and losing will always stink, but the greatest victory is the character that we as parents can instill in our kids as they play the sports that they love. One day my son will win his fair share of soccer games and I hope that he goes far as an athlete. But either way, I am committed to avoid being THAT parent in front of my son and his teammates. He could win every game from here on out, but what would it matter if I lose all respect in the process?