Sterling Griggs

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...

Several weeks ago I ran across an article that described the kind of person that I am to the letter. The writer described a group of people that he referred to as "introverted extroverts," those who are outgoing and not shy about being in the public eye yet are just as comfortable being alone with a book or sitting in a quiet place.  If you know me, then you know how much I love to talk and be with people, but it might surprise you just how much alone time I prefer (and need). In spite of my hidden extrovertedness, I realize that life is not meant to be lived alone. We were made for relationships, first with God and then each other. Consider God's words to us in the Old Testament book of Genesis: So God created man in His own image; He created him in the image of God; He created them male and female. (Genesis 1:27) Then the Lord God said, "It is not good for man to be alone. I will make a helper as his compliment." (Genesis 2:18) So the Lord God called...

"I'm bored." "There's nothing to do." "Can we go somewhere and do something?" Growing up, I am certain that I uttered those same phrases at least a million times, especially during the summer months. It didn't seem to matter that I had two older brothers close to my age, a huge backyard to play in, neighborhood pool that never seemed to close, and was surrounded by woods and creeks that never ceased to invite me for an adventure. Yet even then, I often struggled to find things to do. Since this was the era before computers and cell phone technology, sitting in front of the television was about as lazy as I could get away with until my mom made me go back outside. Most days I was out the door after breakfast and had to be called home (via my mom's vocal chords, not a phone!) for dinner. Boredom wasn't much of an option or a privilege for me and most of the friends I knew. Now don't get me wrong - I'm not claiming to have lived so...

This past Saturday night my new neighborhood - Wrightsville Green, aka The Hood - celebrated its annual 4th of July gathering. Before we even moved in, several of our neighbors were quick to tell us how fun and amazing this night was. Our home owner's association sent us emails reminding us of the festivities and we were asked to sign up to bring food at the community mailbox. Seeing this as an opportune chance to get to know pretty much everyone in all 50+ homes, we agreed to bring cantaloupe (because you can't have a party without melon) and a cucumber/tomato/onion salad (because if they didn't eat it, I would). The days leading up to the shindig were filled with stories of past 4th of July celebrations and how this year's was going to be the best ever. Finally the big day had arrived. The party officially started at 4:00 but we planned to be fashionably late because it's really awkward when you don't really know many people and you are the first ones to ...

Yesterday I attended my fourteen-year-old daughter's last dance recital. I say "last" because she is heading to high school next year at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts in Winston-Salem where she will focus on music, specifically the clarinet. She has made it clear to us that she sees her future in music, not dance, and that she is ready to move on to the next chapter in her life. The next chapter? At age fourteen? As I watched her dance in her three performances, so much flashed before my eyes. I recalled her first dance classes as a three-year-old. For three solid weeks all she did was stand there stiff as a board, unwilling to participate with the other girls as the teacher was instructing them in all the finer points of dance that a three-year-old can digest. Finally, my wife laid the gauntlet down - either you dance or we're going home for good! Miraculously, from that moment forward dancing was never an issue with her. Memories of her ...

My wife and I were sitting on the porch the other day sipping coffee together and reminiscing about how easy life was when we were little kids. We tend to do that from time to time when our schedules get out of whack and it feels as if the calendar is our nemesis rather than sheets of paper held by magnets to our refrigerator. Memories have the ability to allow you to escape like that. On this particular morning we were talking about our grandparents on our mothers' sides, all of whom have already passed on from this world. I brought up the old show Hee Haw  that I watched on so many Saturday evenings in my grandparents living room when my wife lit up and told me about the many times that she too had lounged in her pajamas in her grandmother's living room in Topeka, KS, and watched Roy Clark and Buck Owens lead a cheesy cast of comedic characters across the old tube television set with the wood grained sides.  My wife never had the pleasure of knowing her grandfather as a chil...

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 ...

As I type these words, I am finishing up an awesome 24+ hour guy time marathon with my son. As soon as my son learned that my wife and daughters were going out of town overnight, he announced that it was guy time and thus far here is a list of all that we've done: Watched a Jason Bourne move. Actually, one and a half of them. Ate chicken wings and banana pudding Watched Wake Forest beat Boston College in basketball Rented the Goosebumps movie (which was surprisingly good) Spent time reading a book before bed Slept in Had cookies for breakfast Checked a book out of the library Made a purchase at the local candy store Had sushi for lunch And now he is in his Eno reading his library book while I type So yeah, this has been a really good time with my son, time that I won't forget or regret taking. Did I just say regret making time for my son? I can understand making changes in your schedule to have time for your kids but regret taking that time? Do parents really...

This past weekend I had two conversations regarding the state of public education in the state in which I live. Okay, they were more muted down diatribes delivered by yours truly than they were conversations, but I had a captive audience and I just couldn't help myself. If you are resident of the great state of North Carolina, then you know the rough state of affairs that our public schools and teachers are facing. With four children of my own in public schools, I share your concerns. And as one who tries so hard not to be overly political with issues - I call them as I see them and am a proud registered Independent - it's hard not to get frustrated with the perceived lack of concern for our public schools from those in Raleigh whom we all had a hand in electing. Besides, I've yet to see a legislator sitting in a classroom in my community striving to understand exactly what is going on before he or she casts their next vote. It gets frustrating to see a revolving door ...

"Steven" had another bad day. That's what the school administrator told me as I sat in a comfy chair across from her desk. This young man, barely halfway through his elementary education, would be spending the next couple of days at home. Again. And no, she didn't break confidentiality by telling me his name - I actually guessed. I was there to discuss with her ideas about using high school students after school to tutor and mentor elementary students and, before I rose to leave, I told her that if there was an immediate need that I could help with, please let me know. That was when she mentioned a student - whom I guessed to be "Steven" - who was really struggling and was facing yet another suspension from school. She called him a "throw away" kid, not because she didn't see his value (she did and she showed him much love), but rather because the rest of the world around him didn't seem to recognize it.  Hearing this story literally b...