Leavin' on a Jet Plane

Tomorrow, I go on a trip.

Tomorrow, I get to see one of my most favorite people on earth.

I haven't seen her in 2 and a half years but we talk almost every day.

Tomorrow, I get to be with a friend who puts the meaning into Proverbs 17:17.

Tomorrow, I see a sister and hug her tight.

I'll cradle her baby in my arms and kiss his chubby cheeks.

I'll hold her older children close and remind them that "Mimi" loves them so much.

I'll bring Izzy.

And Éva will get to go with Daddy to visit Masie and Yosie.

I'll miss my own big girl and my amazing hubby.

But tomorrow I get to see Kasey.

Kasey holding Izzy at 5 months old

And my heart is happy.

Casting Cares

Well, the military beckons once again for our little family.

This summer = move.

Not a big move mind you, but a move just the same.

We'll be making the trek a whole 30 miles south to D.C.

And even though the move is a short distance away, the process is the same as when we moved from Hawaii to here.

Boxes need to be checked on the military side.

Housing and movers needs to be arranged and set up.

Paperwork needs to be filled out and transitions have to be made.

It's going to be a big summer for us.

Lots of change.

A new home, a new neighborhood, a new job, a new area to get used to, and I'll start homeschooling in August so a new homeschool group.

As excited as I am for the change (it's the military brat in me),

it's a little nerve wracking too when I consider all that needs to be done.

A few days ago, I was officially freaking out.

The list of "to dos" seemed daunting and I felt eager to start crossing stuff off, but alas, there's really not much I CAN do right this moment.

Thus, the freak out.

I decided to run a few errands, get out of the house a bit. Éva came with me.

I drove to Walmart in silence, gazing straight ahead, brain reeling.

And then, Éva started singing.

"I cast all my cares upon you.

I lay all of my burdens, down at your feet.

And any time I don't know what to do,

I will cast all my cares upon you."

Wow.

This has been one of my favorite songs since I was Éva's age and it was exactly what I needed to hear in that moment.

Her sweet voice singing those simple and whole words was like a soothing balm to wrecked psyche.

Out of the mouths of babes, or so it goes.

Éva's intuition kicks in again,

and God continues to use her to teach me just as much as I hope to teach her.

Web Surfing When I Should Be Studying

Yep. I'm supposed to be listening to a marriage counseling lecture. My last day of school for the semester is tomorrow and I have three-one hour lectures to complete plus two quizzes and a discussion board post.

But I'm web surfing.

In my defense, the lecture is playing in a separate window on my desk top.

So technically, I'm listening.

Anyway, in all this listening/web surfing, I came across an interesting post on this blog that I thought would be fun to copy here.

Read.

Enjoy.

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Raising Dorks

By Jon Acuff, September 2009

I don’t have any hard data on this, but I think that of all the major world religions, Christianity has the highest dork per capita ratio. Did I say that right? Is there a different metric we’re using to measure number of dorks that I should have referenced instead? Are we still rolling with the per capita ratio? It’s so hard to find good research on this topic.

But think about it, no one ever says, “You know who is cheesy? Muslims.” Rarely will you hear someone proclaim, “The Hindus are all uptight.” And when Buddhists are stereotyped they’re labeled as being “relaxed and peaceful.” Christianity though has a lockdown on dork status and you know what?

I love it.

I used to hate it. From the time I was in the seventh grade right up until I became 33 I railed against it. I did everything I could to prove to the world that I was not some cheesy Christian. I distanced myself from Christian culture as fast as I possibly could because it all felt so overwhelmingly dorky. But then something weird happened, something unexpected … my five year old tried to get into pop culture.

I’ve got nothing against the particular pop star my daughter suddenly became fascinated with but the transition from “I love the Wiggles” to “the Wiggles are for babies” was ridiculously fast. (In her defense, that Captain Feathersword who the Wiggles run with, scares me to death.) Up until that point I really hoped my daughter would grow up to be a cool kid. I wanted her to be part of the popular crowd at school and be considered hip. But when she started sweating pop stars and other little girls in our area started getting into teenage television shows, I had to pause.

Those things weren’t created for a 5 year old. The entertainment she wanted to watch was not written for a girl two years out of diapers. It’s got boyfriends and girlfriends and topics that are way out of her understanding as a little kid. And she might love it. She might sing all the songs and have a blast doing it and fit right in with all her friends. But if I encourage her to do that, if I push her toward that, I fast forward her through childhood. I speed her up from a 5 year to a 10 year old. And although I make about 47 dad mistakes a day, I have learned one secret about childhood:

You can fast forward childhood, but you can’t rewind it.

I wish I could but I can’t. Childhood only goes one direction and I want her to stay a little kid for as long as she can. There will be plenty of time later for her to think boys are cute and interesting. (Right now I’m pushing for “smelly and cootie laden.”)

Until then though, she’s not going to be hip. I’m going to raise a dork. Which is different from naïve, don’t misunderstand, she’s going to be like Matthew 10:16, shrewd as a snake and innocent as a dove. And if you’re making different decisions with your kids, please don’t hear this as an attack. I’m new to being a dad, am by no means a pro, don’t have all the answers and am really only writing about the two kids with my last name. Who will be dorks.

I hope I don’t help create one of these sheltered Christian girls that just goes insane when they get to college, but I promise you that I’m going to do everything I can to keep my kids young, out of the loop as far as the world goes and maybe even dorky. And when my oldest daughter yells at me when she’s 13 because she can’t go to a party with a bunch of boys, who I know are going to try to kiss her, I’ll show her this post. And she’s going to yell some more, but at least I’ll kind of look like I predicted the future, which is fun.

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