I was finishing a few work emails yesterday in my dining room/office, when I heard my 3 year old start crying and my 12 year old yell out for me.
“Dad! Come here now! Now! Dad!”
I knew from his tone something was wrong. As parents, we’ve joked with our kids about not coming to us unless something’s broken or there’s blood. This time there was blood. Lots of it.
I quickly ran into the den and found blood pouring out from a cut on my daughter’s forehead above her eyebrow. She’d stumbled and hit her head on the corner of our brick hearth. Me and four kids, one of which has a serious, profusely bleeding head, alone at home. Instant chaos.
Adrenalin took over. Hold my thumb over the cut to stop the bleeding. Send my twelve year old into the kitchen to get a clean washcloth. Press the washcloth against the cut. Calm the six and nine year old down with soothing words that I don’t feel. Tell them to get their shoes on and get in the car. Carry the three year old to the car (still pressing the washcloth against wound), hollar at the 12 year old to follow me, strap the three year old in, and show the 12 year old how to keep the wound from bleeding. Go back in the house. Put my shoes on. Grab my car keys and cell phone. Rush to the hospital ER.
You can probably imagine the rest of the night. All five of us huddled around my little girl, each wanting and wishing we could make her all better. I called my dad and he was great. He came and got the three non-bleeding kids and took them to dinner and home to spend the night. My three year old and I did the wait-to-get-seen-at-the-ER thing. Other then sitting for hours trying to keep her occupied, the only bad part was when she had to get a shot to numb the area around the cut. Four stitches and five hours later, we were on our way back home. Oh, and thanks to the guy who bought my daughter a coke. I wish I had gotten your name…
Even after six kids, I can’t get used to seeing one of them hurt. Last night, I held my daughter in my arms while she was crying. I would have done anything to take away her pain. If you’re reading this and a parent you know what I’m talking about. Nobody likes to see any kid hurt, but there’s something that makes it worse when it’s your child. There’s an unexplainable invisible attachment that causes you to intensely feel the things that they feel.
My daughter got up this morning all smiles. The memory of the ER visit was still fresh, but she was moving forward in her merry, princess sort of way, forgetting about the pain of the night before. I bathed her around mid morning and washed away the blood that had gotten in her hair.
I was down on my knees drying her hair and wrapping the towel around her body when she looked at me with those big blue eyes, her charming smile, and said in her happiest voice, “I love you daddy!” Three year old arms wrapped themselves around my neck. I had done a pretty good job so far of controlling my emotions throughout our little "adventure." Thank goodness no one was around at that moment to see me start crying.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
Peacemakers
For the past seventeen years, Marybeth and I have lived unconventional lives. We got married in college, had a bunch of kids, and homeschooled. Living differently then our peers has brought different forms of criticism, and over the years I reacted to it in three different ways.
Initially I was the peacekeeper. A friend would make a comment about the number of kids we had and ask if “we knew what caused that.” I’d laugh along with him to keep the peace. Our family members would argue with us about the effectiveness of homeschooling and I would try and find common middle ground.
Somewhere along the way I got more argumentative. I became more outspoken about my beliefs, but not in a way that helped others understand why Marybeth and I did what we did. For whatever reason, I was quick to tell you why what you were doing was inferior to what I was doing.
For the last five or six years I’ve just been quietly living my life. Instead of becoming more “normal,” Marybeth and I have continued doing crazy things like paying off all our debt, homeschooling, and adding a sixth kid to the Whalen clan. If anything, our beliefs about family size, the role of father/mother/husband/wife, money, and raising kids have become even stronger. But instead of being outspoken and self promoting, we just quietly throw ourselves into culture and do our thing. I figure that if people are interested in what I think, they’ll ask me.
I’ve learned that you can’t talk someone into believing something. People’s minds are changed by what they observe and see with their own eyes. If someone likes what they see in my life, they’ll ask about my beliefs, and I will give them an honest, loving, thoughtful response that will be intended to help them apply principles I’ve learned into their own lives.
Something happened yesterday that made me mentally revisit all this. I was working in a Starbucks and happened to be sitting next to a few guys I recognized (but didn't know me) who were talking badly about something I’m very passionate about. For about 10 minutes, I sat quietly and continued working. I didn’t even get very emotional to be honest. Like I said above, I’ve learned that speaking out in that kind of situation only leads to an argument about style.
But then it got personal. One of these Christian men began speaking negatively about the character of a guy that I know. What the guy was saying was an outright lie. Enough was enough. This has never been typical of me, but I turned and personally confronted him about his comments and pointed out his sinful behavior.
Here’s something that I wish I had been told early in my Christian years. The church does a great job reminding Christians that we are to be loving, humble, and respectful of others. Jesus said that if we’re forced to walk one mile with an enemy, we should go two. If we sin against our brother, we should drop everything and go make reconciliation. But I think the church does a bad job of teaching Christians that we don’t have to stand by quietly and ignore sin. We don’t keep the peace at all costs. Adam was silent and Eve ate an apple. Peter acted sinfully and Paul confronted him to his face. Jesus stood up to an angry, self righteous mob of men who were ready to hurl stones at a woman caught in adultery.
In Matthew 5:9, Jesus doesn’t call us to be “peacekeepers.” What he says is that we are to be “peacemakers.” For him to say that someone must make peace (active) means that there has to be wars going on around us. “Peacemakers” are needed in our churches, in our homes, and in our nations. A “peacemaker” will boldly confront sin without worrying about the cost to himself. A “peacemaker” is motivated by Biblical truth and by love for and fear of God. A “peacemaker” interrupts fellow Christians when they’re gossiping about someone and damaging the cause of Christ. A “peacemaker” confronts a man who he knows is having an affair and tearing apart his family.
The Hebrew equivalent to “peace” is the word "shalom." This word is rich in meaning and was, for the Jew, the common word of greeting. Not only does shalom convey the absence of strife and evil, but also the presence of all good things. To wish shalom on another was in essence to say, "I wish for you not only the absence of all that may harm, but also the presence of everything that makes for a person's good."
There is a time for silence and there is a time to speak out. Confrontation to make peace is an element of our Christian life. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.”
Initially I was the peacekeeper. A friend would make a comment about the number of kids we had and ask if “we knew what caused that.” I’d laugh along with him to keep the peace. Our family members would argue with us about the effectiveness of homeschooling and I would try and find common middle ground.
Somewhere along the way I got more argumentative. I became more outspoken about my beliefs, but not in a way that helped others understand why Marybeth and I did what we did. For whatever reason, I was quick to tell you why what you were doing was inferior to what I was doing.
For the last five or six years I’ve just been quietly living my life. Instead of becoming more “normal,” Marybeth and I have continued doing crazy things like paying off all our debt, homeschooling, and adding a sixth kid to the Whalen clan. If anything, our beliefs about family size, the role of father/mother/husband/wife, money, and raising kids have become even stronger. But instead of being outspoken and self promoting, we just quietly throw ourselves into culture and do our thing. I figure that if people are interested in what I think, they’ll ask me.
I’ve learned that you can’t talk someone into believing something. People’s minds are changed by what they observe and see with their own eyes. If someone likes what they see in my life, they’ll ask about my beliefs, and I will give them an honest, loving, thoughtful response that will be intended to help them apply principles I’ve learned into their own lives.
Something happened yesterday that made me mentally revisit all this. I was working in a Starbucks and happened to be sitting next to a few guys I recognized (but didn't know me) who were talking badly about something I’m very passionate about. For about 10 minutes, I sat quietly and continued working. I didn’t even get very emotional to be honest. Like I said above, I’ve learned that speaking out in that kind of situation only leads to an argument about style.
But then it got personal. One of these Christian men began speaking negatively about the character of a guy that I know. What the guy was saying was an outright lie. Enough was enough. This has never been typical of me, but I turned and personally confronted him about his comments and pointed out his sinful behavior.
Here’s something that I wish I had been told early in my Christian years. The church does a great job reminding Christians that we are to be loving, humble, and respectful of others. Jesus said that if we’re forced to walk one mile with an enemy, we should go two. If we sin against our brother, we should drop everything and go make reconciliation. But I think the church does a bad job of teaching Christians that we don’t have to stand by quietly and ignore sin. We don’t keep the peace at all costs. Adam was silent and Eve ate an apple. Peter acted sinfully and Paul confronted him to his face. Jesus stood up to an angry, self righteous mob of men who were ready to hurl stones at a woman caught in adultery.
In Matthew 5:9, Jesus doesn’t call us to be “peacekeepers.” What he says is that we are to be “peacemakers.” For him to say that someone must make peace (active) means that there has to be wars going on around us. “Peacemakers” are needed in our churches, in our homes, and in our nations. A “peacemaker” will boldly confront sin without worrying about the cost to himself. A “peacemaker” is motivated by Biblical truth and by love for and fear of God. A “peacemaker” interrupts fellow Christians when they’re gossiping about someone and damaging the cause of Christ. A “peacemaker” confronts a man who he knows is having an affair and tearing apart his family.
The Hebrew equivalent to “peace” is the word "shalom." This word is rich in meaning and was, for the Jew, the common word of greeting. Not only does shalom convey the absence of strife and evil, but also the presence of all good things. To wish shalom on another was in essence to say, "I wish for you not only the absence of all that may harm, but also the presence of everything that makes for a person's good."
There is a time for silence and there is a time to speak out. Confrontation to make peace is an element of our Christian life. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.”
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
A Hobbled Runner
Twenty four years ago, in the first game of my senior year season, a couple of football players fell across my left knee. It just so happened that my leg was propped up across another player’s helmet. Instant pain. Season ending injury.
Said left knee was re-injured ten years ago in a church softball game as I was sliding into third.
(For any that don’t appreciate the seriousness of church softball, as I was laying in the dirt writhing in pain, the other team’s short stop was yelling at the top of his voice, “Tag him out! Tag him out!” I’m resisting the urge to go off on a “the church is quick to take out our injured Brothers” tangent.)
So a few weeks ago I was on a Sunday run, and four miles into it, out of nowhere, I started feeling pain in my left knee. After about another half mile I had to stop completely. Long story short, I visited an orthopedic clinic today and learned that over time as I've been running, my old injury caused premature wear in the “cushion” of cartilage between my knee’s joints. Not only am I dealing with pain right now, but I have to start taking preventative measures or I’m going to be dealing with serious problems in my older years.
I know in light of my overall health that this isn’t a major issue. But it was still hard to hear. I’ve been running a lot over the past few years to build up my endurance and distance. I've never wanted to run a marathon, but I did have a dream of running 10K’s. I’m close to being ready and had started researching different races in the NC/SC area. Years of hard work was close to paying off. But today I heard life changing news. The xrays were clear. If I keep training at this pace, I'll do permanent damage to my knee that will affect my quality of life in later years.
The death of dream always hurts.
It’s been a few hours since my doctor visit and I’ve processed most of the hard emotions. There are things I can do to keep in shape and stay active. I’ve been swimming for the last few months and can start using bike machines which are much lower impact then running. And someday soon, I’ll still run a 10K. Just one. And I will finish that race. Even if I have to crawl.
Maybe that’s the lesson God wants me to learn in this. We all get one race. Just one. And each of us have our disabilities. Some things have happened to us that weren’t our fault. We all have things from our past that tore into us emotionally and left scars hidden from those around us. Some of our wounds are self inflicted. We’ve gone places we shouldn’t have gone and done things we shouldn’t have done. Those bad memories can rise up suddenly out of nowhere weighing down our minds with the mistakes of our past.
But we can’t quit. We must run the race, the only race we’ve got, shouldering our burdens and our wounds and our injuries. We fight through the pain that hobbles us. We keep moving, keep running, keep walking, keep crawling. Because one day... one day we’ll wake up and see the finish line. A crowd will line both sides of the road, cheering and screaming as we make our way. We will finish, our Father will be waiting, and we’ll hear the words…
“Well done…”
Said left knee was re-injured ten years ago in a church softball game as I was sliding into third.
(For any that don’t appreciate the seriousness of church softball, as I was laying in the dirt writhing in pain, the other team’s short stop was yelling at the top of his voice, “Tag him out! Tag him out!” I’m resisting the urge to go off on a “the church is quick to take out our injured Brothers” tangent.)
So a few weeks ago I was on a Sunday run, and four miles into it, out of nowhere, I started feeling pain in my left knee. After about another half mile I had to stop completely. Long story short, I visited an orthopedic clinic today and learned that over time as I've been running, my old injury caused premature wear in the “cushion” of cartilage between my knee’s joints. Not only am I dealing with pain right now, but I have to start taking preventative measures or I’m going to be dealing with serious problems in my older years.
I know in light of my overall health that this isn’t a major issue. But it was still hard to hear. I’ve been running a lot over the past few years to build up my endurance and distance. I've never wanted to run a marathon, but I did have a dream of running 10K’s. I’m close to being ready and had started researching different races in the NC/SC area. Years of hard work was close to paying off. But today I heard life changing news. The xrays were clear. If I keep training at this pace, I'll do permanent damage to my knee that will affect my quality of life in later years.
The death of dream always hurts.
It’s been a few hours since my doctor visit and I’ve processed most of the hard emotions. There are things I can do to keep in shape and stay active. I’ve been swimming for the last few months and can start using bike machines which are much lower impact then running. And someday soon, I’ll still run a 10K. Just one. And I will finish that race. Even if I have to crawl.
Maybe that’s the lesson God wants me to learn in this. We all get one race. Just one. And each of us have our disabilities. Some things have happened to us that weren’t our fault. We all have things from our past that tore into us emotionally and left scars hidden from those around us. Some of our wounds are self inflicted. We’ve gone places we shouldn’t have gone and done things we shouldn’t have done. Those bad memories can rise up suddenly out of nowhere weighing down our minds with the mistakes of our past.
But we can’t quit. We must run the race, the only race we’ve got, shouldering our burdens and our wounds and our injuries. We fight through the pain that hobbles us. We keep moving, keep running, keep walking, keep crawling. Because one day... one day we’ll wake up and see the finish line. A crowd will line both sides of the road, cheering and screaming as we make our way. We will finish, our Father will be waiting, and we’ll hear the words…
“Well done…”
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Potty Training
Sometimes life is like potty training. I know, gross analogy. But what can you expect from a guy who’s had to do PT six times over the past 16 years of his life. It fits.
PT can be messy - even downright nasty at times. Your kid doesn’t always make it to the bathroom. They can’t perform every step of the task themself and still requires your help. (I won’t go into details – I know you can figure that out yourself.)
But after a while, they get the whole thing figured out and don’t need you anymore. Anybody who’s been a parent knows how monumental a moment this is! Praise God, halleluiah! All you have to do for them in the bathroom is remind them to turn off the light.
Life works this way. You get stuck in a transition period and you feel like all you’re dealing with is … well, you know. Your company goes through layoffs, has product failures, or significant transitions. Your marriage feels like its one argument away from divorce. Your teenager “hates you!” You diet and exercise but the scale heads north instead of south. Your bank account hovers right above zero.
You put your nose to the grindstone, but after exhausting yourself, you look up and feel like the mouse on the wheel stuck in the cage. All your energy and all your efforts have gained you no advantage.
I know this is something that only a parent could get excited about, but eventually your son or daughter becomes independent. For three or four years of your life, you have to help them with every daily need. You feed them, dress them, and wipe their little behinds - exhausting, hard, and nasty work. But one morning you discover that they’ve gotten up, gotten dressed, and are fixing themselves a bowl of cereal. And although your kid could never put this into words, there is a special feeling they carry around inside of themselves because of the freedom that they’ve discovered. They feel big and “grown up” and it makes your kid smile in a joyous way that can bring tears to a parent's eyes.
Life cycles this way. Keep working hard and eventually your company makes a profit. Keep fighting for your marriage and you'll rediscover feelings of love and faithfulness. Keep serving your teen and one day they hug you and say “I love you.” Keep sacrificing and eventually you begin to build wealth.
Keep working hard today. Keep fighting. Good things eventually come.
PT can be messy - even downright nasty at times. Your kid doesn’t always make it to the bathroom. They can’t perform every step of the task themself and still requires your help. (I won’t go into details – I know you can figure that out yourself.)
But after a while, they get the whole thing figured out and don’t need you anymore. Anybody who’s been a parent knows how monumental a moment this is! Praise God, halleluiah! All you have to do for them in the bathroom is remind them to turn off the light.
Life works this way. You get stuck in a transition period and you feel like all you’re dealing with is … well, you know. Your company goes through layoffs, has product failures, or significant transitions. Your marriage feels like its one argument away from divorce. Your teenager “hates you!” You diet and exercise but the scale heads north instead of south. Your bank account hovers right above zero.
You put your nose to the grindstone, but after exhausting yourself, you look up and feel like the mouse on the wheel stuck in the cage. All your energy and all your efforts have gained you no advantage.
I know this is something that only a parent could get excited about, but eventually your son or daughter becomes independent. For three or four years of your life, you have to help them with every daily need. You feed them, dress them, and wipe their little behinds - exhausting, hard, and nasty work. But one morning you discover that they’ve gotten up, gotten dressed, and are fixing themselves a bowl of cereal. And although your kid could never put this into words, there is a special feeling they carry around inside of themselves because of the freedom that they’ve discovered. They feel big and “grown up” and it makes your kid smile in a joyous way that can bring tears to a parent's eyes.
Life cycles this way. Keep working hard and eventually your company makes a profit. Keep fighting for your marriage and you'll rediscover feelings of love and faithfulness. Keep serving your teen and one day they hug you and say “I love you.” Keep sacrificing and eventually you begin to build wealth.
Keep working hard today. Keep fighting. Good things eventually come.
Friday, February 13, 2009
My Unconditional Love
She doesn't understand all the fuss. She stands and shrugs her shoulders at the red numbers that make mommy and daddy groan. Her innocense makes me laugh; her innocense breaks my heart.One day her little ears will begin to hear the wrong voices telling her that numbers define our worth. "You're beautiful if the scale is small and blessed if the account is big." She'll be surrounded by a love that values looks, weight, and wealth. But this kind of conditional love always empties the object of the affection. She'll hear, "Do more! and be more!" but never be able to live up to the impossible standards that selfish people set. Conditional love will leave her brokenhearted.
A father's love is different. There is nothing for her to prove. There is nothing for her to earn. She is loved simply because she's mine.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
A Financial Team
One of the hardest and most heartbreaking situations I run into when I’m helping couples with their finances is when one spouse is interested in developing budgets and planning for the future while the other is completely checked out and refusing to get involved. In most cases, they’ve been having money fights for years and are on completely different pages. Instead of working together as a team as God intended, they’ve retreated to their respective corners. In an effort to keep the peace, they avoid talking about the real problems.
It’s a time bomb waiting to explode.
Marybeth and I had to learn two key principles in order to have honest communication about money. First, we had to agree that there was no “yours” and “mine” when it came to what our household earned. The money from my paycheck was just as much hers as it was mine. There couldn’t be separate checking accounts or bills that “her” money paid and bills that “my” money paid. We had to unite and work as a team in order to create a solid, Biblically based financial foundation to conquer our money problems.
Even more important, I had to learn to be more accountable to Marybeth for what I spent money on, and to give her a “vote” in the decision making process of how we budgeted our household income. I had to listen to her, really listen, and learn to value her advice. I had to quit writing off her ideas as “silly” or “stupid” just because I wasn’t the one to come up with them.
It took years for us to learn healthy ways to communicate about money and for me to learn to value and make decisions based on her advice. We struggled with debt for most of our marriage and didn’t see things begin to change until I began listening to her. We had to learn to work as a team.
You might find yourself in the difficult situation of being the one in the marriage ready to make changes but unable to get your spouse to talk about your financial problems. Marybeth was the one in our marriage who struggled with that for years. While she’ll admit that she wasn’t perfect with how she handled her part of things, her biggest weapon was to consistently pray that God would help guide me and provide the wisdom I needed to lead our home. 1 Peter 3:1,2 was her reminder that God wanted to win me over by her “respectful and pure conduct.”
Marybeth spent years trying to demonstrate obedience to this verse. She practiced the financial principles you find in God's Word whenever possible. She communicated to me in a respectful manner her beliefs of how we as a family should handle tithing, spending, and saving. Over time, God slowly chipped away at the stubbornness that surrounded my heart and opened my eyes to the stupid and selfish way that I was leading my family. I began to realize how disrespectful and unloving I had been to her. God was changing me and bringing me to a place where I began to value and recognize the wisdom of her advice.
And now, after four years, we’ve paid off nearly a hundred thousand dollars of debt, have begun building up a full emergency fund, and can have calm discussions about budgets, the cost of college, and retirement. After years of working against each other, things for "Team Whalen" are looking up.
If you're that spouse whose facing your marriage’s financial burdens alone, my hope is that you are encouraged by what God can accomplish. He believes in you and is listening to you. He can change your husband's heart just like He changed mine.
It’s a time bomb waiting to explode.
Marybeth and I had to learn two key principles in order to have honest communication about money. First, we had to agree that there was no “yours” and “mine” when it came to what our household earned. The money from my paycheck was just as much hers as it was mine. There couldn’t be separate checking accounts or bills that “her” money paid and bills that “my” money paid. We had to unite and work as a team in order to create a solid, Biblically based financial foundation to conquer our money problems.
Even more important, I had to learn to be more accountable to Marybeth for what I spent money on, and to give her a “vote” in the decision making process of how we budgeted our household income. I had to listen to her, really listen, and learn to value her advice. I had to quit writing off her ideas as “silly” or “stupid” just because I wasn’t the one to come up with them.
It took years for us to learn healthy ways to communicate about money and for me to learn to value and make decisions based on her advice. We struggled with debt for most of our marriage and didn’t see things begin to change until I began listening to her. We had to learn to work as a team.
You might find yourself in the difficult situation of being the one in the marriage ready to make changes but unable to get your spouse to talk about your financial problems. Marybeth was the one in our marriage who struggled with that for years. While she’ll admit that she wasn’t perfect with how she handled her part of things, her biggest weapon was to consistently pray that God would help guide me and provide the wisdom I needed to lead our home. 1 Peter 3:1,2 was her reminder that God wanted to win me over by her “respectful and pure conduct.”
Marybeth spent years trying to demonstrate obedience to this verse. She practiced the financial principles you find in God's Word whenever possible. She communicated to me in a respectful manner her beliefs of how we as a family should handle tithing, spending, and saving. Over time, God slowly chipped away at the stubbornness that surrounded my heart and opened my eyes to the stupid and selfish way that I was leading my family. I began to realize how disrespectful and unloving I had been to her. God was changing me and bringing me to a place where I began to value and recognize the wisdom of her advice.
And now, after four years, we’ve paid off nearly a hundred thousand dollars of debt, have begun building up a full emergency fund, and can have calm discussions about budgets, the cost of college, and retirement. After years of working against each other, things for "Team Whalen" are looking up.
If you're that spouse whose facing your marriage’s financial burdens alone, my hope is that you are encouraged by what God can accomplish. He believes in you and is listening to you. He can change your husband's heart just like He changed mine.
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