Father to Father

Give Me a "G" !

Andy — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 03:07:00 GMT

As a dad, one of my most favorite Bible scriptures is found in Deuteronomy 6:5-7;

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. These words, which I am commanding you today, shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your sons (and daughters) and shall talk of them when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way and when you lie down and when you rise up.”

This week that passage has come to life (once again) for me. We (Team G - the Gowins family) are in beautiful Broken Arrow, Oklahoma this week (well I'm not certain how beautiful it is because we really have not had the opportunity to sight see and/or check it out). You see we are on a family mission trip this week in Broken Arrow, OK (no, it is not an Indian Reservation [we thought that it might be at first but nope]. We have been working at a Children's Home all week long - painting one of their office buildings and doing some landscaping work around their campus. We are only one of many families here this week as part of F.O.M. - Families on Mission (a North American Mission Board sponsored experience). The entire emphasis of F.O.M. is to allow families to participate on the mission field together - that is, for moms and dads to work along side their children in order to train them up in the ways of righteousness through the ministry of serving others. It has been a fun but challenging week.

As I sit here in our hotel room attempting to choose what thought I would like to share with you I am struck by the number of memories (from just the past three-four days) that flood my thoughts. This has truly been an excellent week. I wish I could tell you about all the awesome "missions" ministry that we had the chance to do, but we didn't. In fact, while there was a lot of things that we did there was not a whole lot we had the chance to do together as a family. The truth of the matter is that we ended up working on the same site (location) but we were split into different groups and did not get to work together as a family. Dakota and I painted. Debbie and Duncan did landscaping and other "stuff." But, what I can tell you about is the fun we had together as a family serving God and growing together - early morning quiet times, hurried breakfasts in the hotel's upper hospitality room, morning worship/celebration at the host church, evening dinners, and nightly family huddles. I love spending time with my family. But you must understand that nothing this week happened half-hazardously; in fact, this week has been very intentional from start to finish.

Debbie and I (and the kids) determined eight months ago to do this mission trip. We wanted to all go together on the mission field and serve God together. Our entire summer has been planned around this week and we have all looked forward to these seven days in the middle of July. Each of us has had his/her own reason for anticipating this week. For me, it centered around Deuteronomy 6:5-7. Dads (and moms) that passage from God's Word informs/instructs us to be intentional in training up our children in the the "pathways of the Lord." We are to take every opportunity to teach them how to be a sold-out dedicated believer for the Lord Jesus Christ. That is what this week was/is about for me - an intentionally planned opportunity to teach my children how to serve God on the mission field. Not to just tell them how to do missions, but to illustrate for them by doing it along side them. That is what this week has meant for me. It is watching my wife and son place tree protectors around the base of small saplings at the children's home. It is helping my daughter trim out a door frame at the executive offices (she painted the outside of the door, while I messed up the inside of the frame - Dakota is awesome with a paint brush).

Dads do you have an intentional plan for how to encourage your son and/or daughter (or even your wife) to be everything that God desires for them to be? Remember dad, one day you will have to stand before the King of kings and give an answer for how you equipped your family (your wife, your sons, your daughters) for the gospel ministry. Are you doing everything in your power to help your family excel in the things of the Lord? Are you their biggest cheerleader?


Dakota painting at the Children's Home            Duncan doing landscaping at Owasso Children's Home


Andy painting the trim - detail work                Debbie @ a block party

The Smoochy Bear

Andy — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 21:18:00 GMT

OK. I know how "non-macho" the title of this blog sounds. But, it's my blog and I can name it anything I want! I was recently reminded once again how important it is for us dads to be involved in the lives of our daughters. As I sit in my office typing this I am struck with the reality that this year will probably mark the last year I get to be my little girls "prince charming" for Valentine's Day. For the past 15 years I've been the only "man/boy" in my little girls life (well with the exception of her brother, granddads, and uncles...but you know what I mean). She is not allowed to date until she is sixteen (to which she has been very obedient), but that day is quickly approaching.

For the past fifteen years it has always been my habit to buy her a box of candy; maybe a stuffed animal (whatever her animal of choice for that year has been); I've sent flowers to her school; I've even bought her jewelry (inexpensive less my wife gets upset); always cards and an assortment of Valentine's Day candies (hearts, kisses, etc.). I've even been known to take her out on a special "daddy-daughter-date" from time-to-time over the years. So when this year rolled around I was struck with the self-induced reality that my teenage daughter probably didn't want a lame gift from her ancient dad. The stuffed animals, flowers, and candy would just be an embarrassing reminder that she wasn't allowed to have an official "dude" for another few months. With this in mind I kept my purchases low-key. No card or flowers this year just a little stuffed bear (that when you squeezed it made a kissy, smoochy noise and blurted out the words "I love you" in a squeaky electronic voice) and a little box of chocolates.

Since Valentine's Day fell on Sunday this year I thought I would just wait and give her these gifts after church later in the afternoon when we were all home. Praise God my wife corrected my dull and thick-headed blunder. My wife insisted that I give my little girl her gifts before church, so she could "show-them-off" to her friends. What? Certainly she wouldn't want to share that her "daddy" had gotten her these gifts; especially in light of the fact that most of her friends all had boyfriends and had certainly received much better Valentine's Day gifts. Not understanding or agreeing with my wife I reluctantly called Dakota (my daughter) out to the living room and presented her with the smoochy bear and box of chocolates. My wife is a very smart woman.

To make a long story as short as I can, Dakota hid the chocolates (didn't want to share those with her friends) and attached the bear to her purse and left to go to church with me that morning. If she showed one person she showed everybody that silly 'ole smoochy bear and proudly told them that her "daddy" had gotten it for her. After church that morning I received permission from my wife to take Dakota to lunch (just me and her) and spent a couple hours that afternoon with just my little princess.

Dads remember, your daughter is looking for love. If she can't find it from you she will find it somewhere. I have a great little girl who is growing into an awesome young woman. While I have taught her many life-lessons over the years, she taught me a valuable lesson this past Valentine's Day. All our "kids" desire is our undivided attention and unconditional love. They just want to know that they are loved; that they have value; that someone cares. I am praying that I get at least one more year to be her Valentine, but I'm certain that some young knuckle dragging caveboy will have that honor next year. What I do know is that the young knuckle dragging caveboy will have some pretty big shoes to fill, because I've done my best to set her expectations very high. And in case she ever reads this very non-macho titled blog I want her to know that "I love her very much and I'll always be around to be her Valentine's." I love you Dakota....

Dad!

Dad & Dakota at Fall Creek Falls (October 2009) Dakota at the base of the big falls (October 2009)

Duncan The Duck Hunter

Andy — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 19:45:00 GMT

Okay. The last few blogs have been somewhat serious; this one is going to be just fun. Let me (Andy) share with you what Duncan and I did over Christmas vacation this year (2009). We went duck hunting. Now you have to understand this is the first time in some 20+ years that I have been duck hunting. I used to go all the time. This was one of the few things that my dad and I did together: deer hunting and duck hunting. I had not been duck hunting with my dad since I had left home to go to college - 22 years. And, while Duncan and I have done a lot of deer hunting together, this would be his first duck hunt.

I purchased a five day out of state license, a federal duck stamp, and four boxes of steel shot shell. Of course, I had to head back to the Bass Pro shop and pick-up a new pair of camo coveralls (my old ones were just a little too big; remember I've lost about 200 pounds over the past 10 months). With all of our goodies and boots thrown in the back of my truck we headed north for Kentucky Lake to meet up with my dad and nephew.

I won't bore you with all of the minute details of the week; but I will share with you Duncan's first kill. It was the second day of hunting (the first day we [dad, nephew, and me] killed three ducks, winged a dozen more, and saw a few hundred simply laugh at us as the flew by and away) and we had a lone duck slowly swimming into the decoys. If you've ever been hunting you know how nerve wracking this can be. Poor Duncan was climbing the walls inside the duck blind trying to stay low, keep his face down, get his gun ready, and all the time the rest of us telling him to wait, wait, wait. Finally, the duck was inside the perimeter of the decoys and was presenting a decent shot for Duncan's first kill. Duncan slowly raised his shotgun to his shoulder and slid it over the top of the blind. Sighting down the barrel he gently squeezed the trigger. BAM! In a flurry of steel shot and feathers the duck dove underneath the icy water.

This promised to be a proud moment for father and son; for grandfather and grandson; even for cousins. I was in the process of taking off my glove to give Duncan the mandatory man-to-man, you've just killed a critter handshake when all of a sudden my nephew hollers, "There it is!" Some how, Duncan had managed to miss the duck all together. It resurfaced some 60 yards out from the decoys and quickly made its getaway - no handshake, no duck. This was the last duck that Duncan had a chance to shoot at; all of the rest of the shooting was on the fly and he just wasn't fast enough to shoot (this year).

As we wrapped up five days of hunting I asked Duncan if he had a good time. His response was a big grin from ear-to-ear, "Yes!" His response reminded me of what I had enjoyed so much about hunting with my dad. It wasn't the killing that I had enjoyed as a boy; it was the simple fact that my dad enjoyed doing something with me; that my dad treated me like a man when we were hunting; that my dad found value in my company. It was awesome to have three generations of Gowins' crammed into a duck blind, in the freezing December weather, on Lake Barkley. It was awesome to spend time, again, duck hunting with my dad. It was even more awesome getting to spend some time sharing a legacy with my son - Duncan. Oh well, maybe next year he'll be able to earn the coveted title - Duncan the duck hunter!

Duncan in the duck blind. I'm way too cold

Getting ready to leave...another successful day

Please...give me wisdom!

Andy — Fri, 08 Jan 2010 21:19:00 GMT

"When wisdom enters your heart, and knowledge is pleasant to your soul, discretion will preserve you; understanding will keep you, to deliver you from the way of evil, from the man who speaks perverse things, from those who leave the paths of uprightness to walk in the ways of darkness" (Proverbs 2:10-13). I (Andy) love the Proverbs. There is a wealth of truth and wisdom in them. I especially love Proverbs like the one above; Proverbs that talk about the pursuit of wisdom.

Dads (and moms) it is our job/task to chase after wisdom, to embrace it, and through it to seek knowledge - not the knowledge of the mundane but rather the knowledge of God and of the things of God. Interestingly, such wisdom and such knowledge can keep us (and our children) from evil things; perverse things; things of darkness. This is a biblical proverb that I hold tightly to; one which I claim regularly in my prayers. My daily prayer, "God please give me wisdom. Give me wisdom to be a better husband. Give me wisdom to be a better father. Give me wisdom to be a better son, a better friend, a better minister - a better Christian. Help me to teach my children to be wise in their daily discretion. Please God give me wisdom."

Those Silly Priorities

Andy — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 19:50:00 GMT

As you know, I (Andy) love this time of year. I get to do all the things that I love doing - football, tailgating, and hunting. Due to some health issues (namely a very bad back) I was unable to do any hunting last year, and with a years absence from my deer hunting resume I was really ready to get out in the woods this year - so was Duncan. Well that is exactly what we did last weekend.

We left out early Friday morning (Duncan skipped school), and when I say early I mean early, and didn't put up our rifles until late Saturday night. Needless to say, the deer population of Middle Tennessee is still safe (at least from the Gowins men). While I did want Duncan to get the chance to shoot at something (and hopefully kill something), I must admit my joy in hunting doesn't come from shooting and/or killing anything. It simply comes from being out in the woods, away from everything else, and just enjoying some downtime with my son. We've been doing this now for six years and I look forward to it each year.

There's nothing more exciting than following the tracks of an unknown deer through the woods hoping that around the next corner or tree you'll come face to face with a buck of "fish-tale-sized" proportions. I now know how my dad must have felt while he was teaching me to do all the things that I now have the pleasure of teaching my son. It is awesome! Of course, it does take a lot of patience, especially when you are hunting with an 11 year old who sees a deer behind every tree and each of them are at least an eight point buck.

The most important lesson of the weekend, however, came Saturday night on our way home. You see we still had another day that we could have hunted - Sunday (we had been drawn for a three day state quota deer hunt). On the way home that night Duncan asked me if we could just skip church the next day and hunt one more day; he begged me; he just knew that we could get a deer if we hunted one more day. Well, I must admit that this very same thought had passed through my mind more than once that afternoon, and I did have the time to take off (remember I'm a pastor and I work on Sundays). Oh what to do? Here was yet another teachable moment. "Duncan," I said, "you know as much as I would love to be out in the woods hunting tomorrow, I have a much better place to be - in the very presence of God worshiping the One who created all of this for you and me." We spend several minutes talking about what a great an awesome God we serve and how we can go hunting anytime but how we only get one chance a week to worship our great God with our church family. By the time we got back home, Duncan was excited about the prospects of worshiping God the next morning; more excited to do that than spend another cold day out in the woods chasing after a fleeting white-tailed dream.

Dads (moms) don't loose sight of the real priorities in life. "Raise up a child in the way he should go, and he will soon not depart from it" (Proverbs 22:6).

Boys will be Boys

Andy — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 20:28:00 GMT

"Boys will be boys." It's a phrase I've heard most of my life and I have never really been very certain what the phrase actually meant. I mean I'm not an idiot, I know what people are trying to communicate when they utter those four words, but the reality of such a statement is that they are simply making an excuse for what is normally bad behavior. Dads (moms) why do we set the bar of expectation so low for the greatest commodity that has been given to us? It breaks my heart.

I've shared many times with you the need to watch for teachable moments. As the leader of the household it is our job to instruct our children in the way and manner in which they should walk, and by walk, I mean live. As a parent there are certain things that I expect out of my children and those behaviors are informed by my faith and relationship with my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It is that relationship that defines my morality and it is that morality by which I expect my children to live - no questions. "Boys will be boys" that is why I must be a Godly father and instruct them in the ways of obedience. Their "flesh" is desiring to do all sorts of crazy, stupid, and physically and spiritually dangerous "things." It is my job and my responsibility to make certain that they do not harm themselves physically, mentally, emotionally, and especially spiritually.

This is the hardest part of being a dad. Many times I must be the example even when I do not wish to be. Our children are always watching us and they are paying close attention to our character, our integrity, as well as our discrepancies. What do your children see when they look at the example you are setting? I pray that my children never see me compromising the things that I hold dear. I pray that my children see me living out my faith before them by the best of my ability and that under the power and authority of God living in and through me. I take great comfort in Psalm 1, where if I can paraphrase and take a few poetic liberties "boys don't have to be boys; but rather, "blessed is the boy who seeks to be a blessing to the Lord His God."

I'm loved and adopted!

Andy — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 18:28:00 GMT

Howdy! It's been a while since we posted (some 60+ days). It's crazy. Life just gets in the way of all the things that you want to do, or at least intend to do, and then before you know it 2 months have passed by in the blink of an eye. Oh well, I know that I'm not sharing anything new or deeply insightful with many of you. I imagine life has been just as busy for you over these past several weeks. Even now, I need to wrap things up, get out of the office, make a hospital visit, and pick my daughter up from school and get her to her golf lesson. Yep! You guessed it. This is Andy "blogging," not Clay (he wasn't blessed with a beautiful little girl - well she's not too little anymore - I'm the aging father of a teenager - that doesn't even sound possible).

I would love to bring you up-to-speed with all of the amazing and fantastic "things" that have been going on at the Gowins' house (Dakota made the highschool golf team, she played in a couple of tournaments, turned 15 and is driving with her learner's permit; Duncan started middle school, played football this fall [offensive tackle & started], he is working on First Class Scout [BSA] and should be able to accomplish that by January [he's only been in Boy Scouts since June - he's on track to make Eagle in just a couple of years - awesome]; Debbie and I still have our jobs, church is unbelievably fantastic, and we are still in love and actually like being around each other [most days]; I've lost about 183 pounds since the surgery in April and feel like I'm ready to tackle the world; we've been to every Vanderbilt home game, seen the Titans play twice, are heading out this Saturday morning to deer hunt, and Duncan and I are taking our guy's weekend in a couple of weeks to see the Falcons play the Redskins at the Georgia Dome in Atlanta - this is the best time of the year), but this is not what I want to talk about today.

This morning during my quiet time I read an amazing verse that reminded me of why I love my wife, my children, my neighbor, and my God. "Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him. In love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will" (Ephesians 1:4-5). Did you hear that? (1) God has chosen us, even before there was an us. (2) Not only did He choose us, but He has made us holy and blameless; for those who have accepted Jesus Christ as Lord, there is no condemnation. We are not under the wrath and judgment of Almighty God. (3) Because God loves us He has adopted us. You and I are sons and daughters of the King of Creation. (4) And all of this was accomplished simply because God was/is/will be good and kind in His every action.

Now brothers and sisters, friends, this should put a smile on your face and a gittie-up in your step. This is a good day and I could not let is slip away without sitting down and proclaiming and professing my love for my God who loves me in spite of myself. Take courage and enjoy this day for God is good. Amen!

All to the glory of God

Andy — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 17:54:00 GMT

Dads (moms), how do you communicate what is truly important to your children? There are so many things competing for their attention; so many things desiring to engulf our children in a worldview that is alien and deadly dangerous to their well being. But, if we are not careful we only add fuel to the raging fire that threatens to consume them. And yet, as a good parent you want your children to be well-rounded and involved in the many different things that threaten to consume them. What is a good dad (or mom) to do?

Those are some of the thoughts that have been bouncing around in my (Andy's) head for the last few weeks. All I can say is that it is a good thing that most of my hair is falling out naturally, because if it was not I would be pulling it out. By now, you are probably asking yourself, what in the world is he talking about. Let me see if I can shed some light on my meandering thoughts.

I am now the proud father of a full-blown teenage daughter and pre-teen son. Dakota (my baby girl) will turn 15 this next week and Duncan is 12 going on 20. Both are no longer in grade school. Dakota started high school and Duncan started middle school this year - huge transitions for the entire family. Both to my wife's and my joy both "kids" are actively involved in a host of activities this year - golf and church for Dakota; scouting, football, and church for Duncan. The challenge comes, in trying to communicate to both of them what is truly important. But, what is truly important?

If importance is based upon the amount of time spent on an activity, then everything but their relationship with God has taken priority. This is not the life-lesson we are trying to teach our children. They spend most of their time practicing golf and football (2-3 hours each afternoon after school); doing homework (another 1-2 hours each night); chores around the house (yes, we still make our children do "things"); and of course, 8 hours of school a day. In addition to these things listed they are expected to do their nightly reading for school AR tests and a whole bunch of other things. In comparison they spend about 4-5 hours a week involved in church and probably less than 30 minutes a night reading their Bible, praying, memorizing Scripture, and/or developing their relationship with the Creator of the universe - God. This breaks my heart. What is a God-fearing parent to do?

Well, I can only tell you what we are doing. We encourage our children to do everything to the glory of God. When Dakota is driving from the second tee-box at the golf course during golf practice, she is swinging for the glory of God. When Duncan is in a three-point stance firing off the line of scrimmage at football practice, he is doing it for the glory of God. When they are studying math, doing science homework, learning about world civilizations in social studies, or studying their spelling words they are doing it all for the glory of God. When Duncan is practicing the trumpet it is for the glory of God. When he is at his weekly scout meeting or on a weekend scouting campout it is for the glory of God. When Dakota is cleaning the toilets or the sinks or the bathtub or collecting trash in the house (her chores), she is doing them all for the glory of God. When Duncan is mowing and trimming the yard, he is mowing and trimming for his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Whenever they do anything it is all for the glory of God. We have attempted to teach our children that their spiritual life is not limited to Sunday mornings, Sunday nights, and Wednesday nights. It is not limited to their quiet time of Bible study and prayer. Their relationship with God is not dictated by doing the "churchy" things; their relationship with the Lord their God is dictated by how they live out their faith 24-7.

This is not an easy lesson to teach because it means that you and I have to not only teach it with our words, but we must prove it out with our lives as we live everyday to the glory of God. I have no idea how we are doing in teaching our children these life lessons. Debbie and I will not know until they are grown up and we see what kind of a woman and man they become, but I know that we are giving it all that we have, praying a lot, and trusting God to be faithful. From our end of things, we are raising our children to the glory of God!

Waiting on Jesus

Andy — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 17:35:00 GMT

Here is a Blog to get you through the period of waiting on the return of Christ. Seriously, this is not a time waster nor an exercise in becoming Chicken Little. I have been quite busy of late (note that I - Clay - have not blogged in a couple of weeks) and that busyness has taken a toll on my spirit. I have been up to my eyeballs in mission projects, church work, birthdays, and as much as I hate to admit it...Jet Ski riding.

While on an adventure to a local lake in North Alabama I carried along one of the seven books I am trying to get through this summer. Not to bore you with the details or the title or even the author of the text, the subject matter is written in Debbie Downer mode. Not that I am a glutton for pain and suffering but I often wonder how other people cope with the trails and tragedies of life. This book covers none of the above information but it got me thinking some fairly wonderful thoughts that I will share with you then you can use them to get you through this season of life where we as believers are indeed waiting for our Lord to return.

Have you ever noticed that some people look at nature (like when they are on a lake in the summer) and take in the "beauty" of it all and bask in the glory of the God that made Creation? Simple enough. Ours is a creative God and what we see backs up what we read in Genesis. Ever visited a place as grand as the Grand Canyon and had those types of thoughts about our God? The old question goes: How can an atheist visit the Grand Canyon and not believe?

Good question but is it the right one to ask? Some see the Grand Canyon as a beauty mark. Not me. The Grand Canyon is a mark of the curse that this planet is under beginning in Genesis 3. A crack in the earth's surface a mile wide is not something for us to normally celebrate but to normally remind us that our all mighty Creator once wiped out all that was perfect on this planet with a great deluge (flood). This is not the best of all possible worlds. It is a wretched place where even a trip to the "beautiful" beach can leave you with anything from a jelly fish sting to a shark attack to a drowning in churning saltwater. You can visit the "beautiful" mountains and purchase a T-shirt if you can escape the bears, the bees, and the rocky terrain without twisting your ankle. I have even had the chance to stand on the white sands of Hawaii but do not forget that even that "paradise" is really a volcano which is nothing more than a big zit on the surface of the earth waiting to "Pop!"

Gee, Clay! Put the book down and ride the Jet Ski more. Again, the book did not cover any of these thoughts, it just pointed me in this direction. Here is the point. The best of all possible worlds is not here but it is coming and Jesus is bringing it. Think about it: if a mile wide "scar" can give us pause, what will a "new" earth look like? When we see this place, as it was under the original intent of the Creator and not under the curse, then we should really be impressed. No more animal attacks. No more out of shape bodies. No more hangnails. No more sinus problems. No more pollen. No more salt water (from the flood and not a good thing). No more landscape that belongs on the Sci-Fi Network (hills, valleys, ditches, fault lines that are a thing of beauty - they are "curse" marks). No more sunburn. No more tombstones. No more splinters. No more __________. You take it from here and keep going until He returns. See, I told you it was not a time waster.

Mud Pies

Andy — Sat, 06 Jun 2009 04:52:00 GMT

"We are ignorant children content with making mud pies in the slum not understanding what a holiday at the beach means. We are too easily pleased." (C.S. Lewis)

A couple of thoughts strike me (Clay) when I read the above quote from one of my favorite authors. First is that nobody writes (or thinks) that way these days and secondly as to how true that statement is. Humanity as we know it is so self-seeking that we fail to realize that there is much greater bliss outside of ourselves. What is so sad is that this sentiment describes so many Christians I know.

Our strivings and pantings and energies are spent on the stuff of earth. It seems that too many of my contemporaries (those in my generation) are knocking themselves out to make a place and name for themselves here while at the same time claiming that their true home is in heaven. That is not to be confused with a sermonette on materialism. Wealth in the right hands can be a very good thing and even Godly thing. But way too often in my journey I come across those that have received their theological training from Hanna Montana in that they really desire the best of both worlds.

As I read the gospels and dig into the lives of the apostles I see an entirely different mindset. Yes, these were fallible men just as are we but that is to our shame and not theirs. Those guys did all that they did with little to know formal education (though you could say that they had a pretty decent seminary professor) and without the conveniences of our lives such as Internet, PowerPoint and gas powered engines. What of us? As a pastor I have to speak from my frame of reference. We want the bigger church. We want the cover of HomeLife. We want the state convention people to call on us to lead a church growth seminar. We want a certificate from our association that says we baptized just as many as the church down the street and two more than did a church twice our size.

Your frame of reference may speak to other areas but it is all the same. We are way to satisfied with the applause of men and satisfying whatever limits and goals we set for ourselves as being able to have made "it" in life - whatever it is. There are two fundamental problems with this broken viewpoint:

(1) God is not amused by what amuses us. At the height of Beatle-Mania in the late 1960s, John Lennon once remarked that the Beatles were bigger than Jesus. Really? Sold out concert halls and an appearance on the Ed Sullivan TV show is all it takes to trump the Creator of the universe. Again, we are content to make mud pies because we do not understand what a holiday (vacation) at the beach really means. We ought not think too highly of ourselves.

(2) God's love for us makes us better than we are. That reads strange does it not? But the truth behind that bad syntax must not be missed. One of the worst things that a non-believer can hear from a believer is this: God loves you just the way you are. Really? A smart non-believer would then counter with: Then why should I care to change my life? Think of it - how cruel would it be to find a child playing in the mud right outside the front gate of the Magic Kingdom and not tell them the truth of what they are missing? Truth is we were not created for mud pies and anything that we invest our lives in that is not a God-honoring, Kingdom building task that makes the name of Jesus famous is simply that - us sitting in mud. It is a worthless enterprise at best and a root of our missing Jesus at worst.

If you are to be dazzled, be dazzled by the fact that our benevolent Lord has made us to know Him.

Break Out the Smores!

Andy — Wed, 20 May 2009 22:32:00 GMT

OK faithful readers, this blog is going to be quick and short. We (the Gowins') are loading up the camper and heading out for a long weekend of rest and relaxation. It's Memorial Day weekend and we are ready to take a long deserved break. The "kiddos" had their last day of school for 2008-2009 today and Deb has her last day on Friday; and I've been up to my spiritual eyeballs in pre-VBS mode. It is time for a little quiet time.

Duncan and I are hooking up the pop-up tomorrow and heading out to a nearby campground. The girls will join us Friday night. This weekend promises to be filled with fun - campfires, cooking, frisbee golf, hikes, bike rides, and dog walking. I've even got five books to bring along and read over the next six days - mostly science fiction. The forecast is calling for sunny skies, warm days, and chilly nights - perfect camping weather. The excitement and expectation level is high. You can almost breathe it in at the Gowins household as we get ready.

Isn't it great that God has filled us with this since of positive hope? In these days when there is so much negative press and news, as well as a growing concern about life in general, it is good to be a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ. Isn't it fantastic that God hardwires us for hard work and hard play? I look forward to this weekend because I know that the Lord will give me many opportunities to create more memories with my family; He will give me opportunities to watch them grow and mature; He will reward me with a season of play because I have been faithful during my season of work. Most of all I look forward to this weekend because it is good to be His child, alive in His creation, and experiencing the great hope that I have in Him.

I look forward to sharing with all of you the many fun and exciting "things" that will unfold over the next few days in the weeks to come. Get out and enjoy life this summer!

What will they say about you?

Andy — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 15:11:00 GMT

I (Clay) have been looking at my Bible lately - this is what I do - and I have found something interesting in the life of Jesus - that usually happens. John 15 contains what theologians call the "Olivet Discourse." That is a $10 way of saying that Jesus was talking to His disciples on the Mount of Olives. Not that big of a deal. Jesus talked with these guys in many places. He was talking to them by way of an object lesson by claiming to be the true vine while they were a bunch of branches. Again, not a big deal. Jesus used object lessons often to get His point across.

The point not to be lost on us is the fact of the timing of the "discourse." John 15 records the beginning of the end of Jesus' earthly life. The Mount of Olives is the place where He prayed His last prayer and was eventually arrested with the aid of Judas. Hopefully you know the story. But back to the discourse. Jesus' words are pregnant with meaning, emotion, and application for us today. Just think: these were the last words that Jesus that Jesus was going to share with His closest friends. They have been with Him through so much. Their eyes have seen and their ears have heard things that mere mortal men are not usually subjected to. For three years they have been in the presence of God incarnate. Unlike believers today these guys did not have to use too much faith for their beliefs - they had first hand experience in what Jesus could do.

Which brings me to my point. Jesus had these guys right where He wanted them. The Lord's Super was over with. The foot washing episode was done. Judas had left the group to do his damage and now Jesus was left with eleven hardcore believers. These eleven men would start the ball rolling for what believers today hold dear. They began the church. They began mission works. They began social justice in the name of Jesus. They began public witnessing against all odds. But they did none of that without some parting words from Jesus. Our Lord knew what was about to happen (the cross) but the disciples did not (chaos). The first eight to ten verses of John 15 record some of Jesus' last words to His followers. These words were directed at a bunch of rag-tag disciples, but they are applicable to present day believers in many ways.

I will not replay or rehash those words here but I do encourage you to do two things before bed tonight. First, go read that chapter of the Bible for yourself. You will get the meaning now that you know the background. Let those words sink deep into your heart. Jesus was speaking to Peter, James, John and the others, but He was also talking to you. Secondly, go to bed tonight with this thought in mind: what would I say to those around me (my wife, kids, parents, church family, etc.) if I knew that my time was short here on earth? What would be "my" last discourse? What do you want those that know you and love you best to recall after you are gone? Andy and I have tried to take that issue on with our little book. We have talked at length over the fact that we certainly expected it to shoot straight to the New York Times bestsellers list and win a couple of "Book of the Year" awards and sell at least 6 million copies but at last none of that has happened. We talked at length at the beginning of the process about this little book being just what I described: something tangible for our sons to hold if...you know.

What will you say and what will you recall about you? What could possible be that important to you?

To Know that You Know that You Know

Andy — Fri, 17 Apr 2009 17:59:00 GMT

Wow! I (Andy) meant to sit down a couple of days ago and type this blog but time just got away from me. It has been about 3-4 weeks since I last posted and a lot of things have happened in my life and in the Gowins household, and these things have revolved around me. A week ago Tuesday (April 7th) I had a life-changing & altering surgery. I had bariatric surgery (the gastric by-pass). In the vernacular, they (the doctors) cut my stomach (actual stomach organ), made a smaller stomach "pouch" and reconnected it to my intestines. This is to help me loose weight and keep it off. I've fought the battle of the bulge almost all my life and finally came to the realization last fall that I was loosing (the battle, not the weight).

In short, the surgery was a great success. I have been home since last Thursday recooperating. I was able to go to church on Easter Sunday (or as we call it in the Gowins household - Resurrection Sunday); and I have been out and about exercising and getting stronger. The most exciting and interesting thing in all of this is that I have no appetite what-so-ever; and I have already lost 20 pounds in my first week. Of course, the life-changing aspects of this surgery is that I will never be able to eat more than 4 ounces of food at any given time and there are several foods that my little stomach pouch will no longer tolerate. Meal time around the Gowins' has been interesting this past week. However, this is not what I really want to share with you this week. This is just the background material for the "true-yarn" I want to spin for you.

According to the literature, there is a one in two hundred chance of dying either during this surgery or within 1-2 weeks after the surgery (due to blood clots). This is a pretty major and serious surgery. Prior to going in to surgery, I had to sit down with my family and inform them of all these details. This was a decision that we all had to be comfortable with, and let me tell you, those conversations were very difficult. One of the hardest things I had to do pre-surgery was draft a "death-letter" for my wife. This letter had all of our most current financial information in it as well as directions for what to do with any settlement monies in the event that I didn't make it. At the end of the letter I found myself writing a short note to each of my children and my wife. I didn't have enough tissues to keep my eyes and nose clear that day.

The night before my surgery everyone was laughing and having fun and then the dreaded announcement rang thru the house, "Bed time." It was at this moment that everything began to fall apart. As Duncan climbed into bed he began to cry and sob uncontrollably. We asked him what was wrong, and from his mouth he told his mother and me, "I don't want you to die daddy." Well 30 minutes later and a whole lot of hugging and loving and reassuring he was finally able to get it under control, a little bit. Then, as I sat down in my chair in the living room my 14 year old daughter uncharacteristically climbed into my lap, buried her head into my shoulders, and just clung to me. She didn't say anything, nor did I for fear of both of us bursting out into uncontrollable torrents of tears.

My father used to say to me all the time, "Life is to short! It is to short to go around mad or upset. It is to short to never tell the ones you care about the most how you feel about them. It is to short not to love!" Those words had never rang more true to me than at that moment. In the face of uncertainty my children were scared, and to be honest with you, so was I. But this isn't what I want to tell you about either - just more back story so that you can understand the mental condition I was in the next morning at 6 AM when I went to the hospital to be admitted.

Everyone was there. My father and mother came down; my wife and children; even the pastor came by to pray with me and see me before I went in at 6:30 AM. Sitting on the gurney, having just put on my nice airy hospital gown, I found myself praying. I have been a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ for 32 years. I have been serving in the ministry for 18 years. I have sat in numerous hospital waiting rooms and rooms with men, women, boys, and girls and have offered comfort and prayers of healing, and asking the tough question of whether or not they are a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ. But, this was the first time that I had ever been on this side of the equation. In those few moments of quiet and peaceful prayer while I searched my heart and my faith, I was quickly reminded by a still quiet voice deep in my soul that I belonged to God and no matter what may occur on the operating table (live or die) everything was going to be all right. This is what I wanted to share with you.

I want to testify today to the fact that there is a God who is all powerful, all-knowing, and is ever present in and out of time. I want to shout that there is an empty tomb to give glory and honor to the fact that there is a risen Savior who is Lord of lords and King of kings. I want to cry out that "I know that I know that I know" that everything I believe in and the hope that I hold fast too, that is the hope of the bodily return of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and the power of the resurrection that comes with him, is true! In that one moment of prayer on that gurney, I felt a peace descend upon me that validated everything that I have ever taught, preached, and/or said concerning what I believe about God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Dads (moms) go grab your little ones (no matter how little or how big they might be) and tell them that you love them; and then prove that you love them by sharing the great stories of the faith with them. I had peace because I knew that no matter what happened to me, I would see my family again (they are all believers). You too can have that same kind of peace, teach and lead your children to a saving relationship with Christ, and then you too can say, "I know that I know that I know!"

A Good Week. A Great Weekend.

Andy — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 15:23:00 GMT

Scripture teaches us that formerly Sunday was viewed as the first day of the week. Quite opposite than how we view our common "weekend." That being the case allow me (Clay) to share with you a few highlights of my adventure from this past week and share a bit of information about this particular weekend.

Last Monday was uneventful. I left my house with the family in tow around 4:00 AM headed towards Kansas City, MO. It was the first of what I hope will be many short-term mission trips that my family will take. Spring Break around our house will prayerfully forever more be known as the week that we go somewhere and serve. Our job was to go and serve by helping with beautification projects in and around Midwestern Baptist Seminary.

Tuesday the job began. We picked up sticks. We raked leaves. I drove a tractor. What a joy to watch my children work on their work ethic. Yes, at times they were distracted by playground equipment and an occasional goose that got to close, but rarely was there a complaint.

Wednesday brought more sticks and leaves and trash with a couple of rusted out cars to be moved to boot. We were able to get into the seminary's guest house that is around 150 years old. We did not break in, more like snuck in when no one was around. The furnishings were amazing!

Thursday, I had time to sit down and get some work done at the seminary's library. It had been a while since I had so many good books to back up a Sunday sermon prep. That part I really enjoyed. When I say I sat down, that part I enjoyed too. You see Midwestern houses the personal library of my hero Charles Haddon Spurgeon. They are also holders of his personal desk. Guess where I sat to write part of this Sunday's sermon? Yep, right there where so many actually good sermons were penned. It is a memory that I enjoyed making. Well, at least until the library workers ran over to me and politely but firmly told me to get up and not to touch anything else.

Friday was a day of relaxation. We had stopped to spend the night before in St. Louis. That morning my family was able to go to the top of the Arch. We learned a good deal about Lewis and Clark. And as an added bonus, we got to visit the new Busch Stadium - home of the Cardinals. Good day!

Saturday was a bright and early wake up call for an 8:00 AM little league practice. Aslan loves many things in life but I think that baseball tops them all. How providential it was for me to visit the home of the Cardinals and then to sit and watch Aslan tell his friends how to squat down on a ball like the picture of Albert Pujols we saw in the gift shop.

And that brings me to this early morning on Sunday. I have a date with my church family here in a few hours. I hope they are alert and are prepared to interact with God and His Word. I pray that the Holy Spirit will operate on our hearts, minds, and wills. I get bad nervous on Sunday mornings. So many things that I desire to do right. If they are done right I will have worshiped correctly. If not, there is always grace to fall back on. Either way, it is a good way to end a great week. Or to begin another one.

Stay at home dad - some of the best years of my life

Andy — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 15:02:00 GMT

I (Andy) was on my way to work this morning (after having dropped off my oldest at school - my 14 year old teenage daughter - Dakota) ready to blog about Duncan's Webelo's achievements (the Order of Light) or maybe about how we saw a fox in our backyard a couple of weeks ago (it was only four feet from the screened-in porch) or maybe even about a rather serious spiritual conversation I just had with my son a few days ago (he's been hanging out with the wrong crowd in 5th grade and it is starting to threaten his grades); but, as I was passing a little daycare on my way to work I saw something that caused me to rethink my blogging direction this morning. I will go ahead and apologize in advance if the following seems a little bit disjointed - it probably is.

As I was passing the daycare I saw a gentleman in a white shirt and tie carrying a diaper bag and infant carrier into the front door of the daycare. I am assuming his son or daughter was in the carrier and he was dropping them off at the daycare on his way to work. I could see his lips moving as he appeared to be "baby-talking" to his precious cargo. Man-o-man this brought back a flood of memories.

That fourteen old daughter that I drove to school this morning and dropped off at the front door; that same daughter with whom my wife and I will have to go to 9th Grade Parent-Student Orientation tonight with for high school; that same daughter who is crazy about a boy that sits across the room in her science class and whom she has texted several times but has never actually had a verbal conversation with; is that little girl in the carrier for me. However, I was lucky enough to never have to drop her off at a daycare or a sitters - my wife did that. The joy I had was in picking her up. Back then I worked third shift at a hosiery mill (we made socks and pantyhose). I didn't get off until about 8:30 in the morning. My wife (a school teacher) had to be at work by 7:00 so she would drop Dakota off at Ms. Kim's (our sitter) at about 6:45 and I would normally get her around 9:30.

We would spend our days together doing what babies and dads who work third shift do - sleep and eat. Our mornings were normally pretty uniform: head home, bathe (both of us), get a quick bite to eat (eggs & bacon for me; a bottle for her), and then a quick nap. I remember I used to make a big circular pallet on the bed surrounded by pillows for Dakota and then I would fall asleep next to her. I never worried with setting an alarm clock because she would normally wake me up with soft coos and noises a few hours later. Our afternoons almost always followed the same pattern (as you can tell, I am a creature of habit). After getting up and getting started (not an easy accomplishment after working all night and sleeping for just a couple of hours) I would get dressed, change Dakota's diaper, grab the diaper bag and then we would hit the road. We would go to one of two of our favorite places to eat lunch, either Sonic or Ryans - normally Sonic. A bacon cheeseburger, onion rings, cherry coke, and chocolate milkshake for me; another bottle for Dakota. I had a Ford Ranger in those days, so Dakota was upfront right next to me. We would listen to the radio together, or I would read a book to her, or sometimes I would just sit there and talk with her. After lunch, if the weather permitted, we would normally head to one of the local parks where I would swing her, stroll her around, or feed the ducks and geese with her (of course as she got older or more mobile we did more "action-oriented" things at the park). On most days, we were just pulling into the driveway as mom was getting home. Of course, then it was into night mode - a very quick dinner and then back to bed for me for another quick nap before going to work.

There was very little sleep for me back in those days, maybe 5-6 hours total per day and that divided between two different "naps." But, I wouldn't change a thing about those days. They are some of my best memories. I was lucky enough to work that schedule for most of Dakota's early life. As a matter of fact, with the exception of a six month period, I was pretty much a stay-at-home-daytime-dad until Dakota went to kindergarten; and then there was Duncan. Duncan ended up at a daycare/sitter a little bit more than Dakota did for the first couple of years of his life (I was going to seminary in those days), but he didn't spend too much time there. I had the pleasure of raising him much the same way I raised Dakota.

I have two great "kids," and I am blessed to have a GREAT relationship with each of them. Why? How? I think it is because I started developing that relationship years ago with them. We've talked about all sorts of things through the years - serious stuff and silly stuff; and these days, those conversations are getting even tougher as we talk about boys, girls, sex, peer pressure, smoking, drugs, alcohol, and personal purity. I do not claim to have all the answers; heck, I'm not even sure what the questions are half-the-time, but I do know that because my children and I can talk, and talk openly, that we are getting through most of these tough conversations rather well. We are "bucking-the-system" and not having the stereo-typical teenage (and pre-teen) and parent relationship.

When was the last time you just sat down and had a "no-point" conversation with your little boy or little girl (regardless of their age)? I don't know what kind of dad that fellow was this morning who was dropping his child off at the daycare. He might be the world's greatest dad or maybe the world's worst. I just don't know. But, what I do know is that I envy the infinite opportunities he is going to have to build-up, encourage, and develop his relationship with his child. The older they get, the fewer and fewer opportunities there are. Dads (and moms) make the most of every minute, enjoy every season, and take the time to talk with your children.

Death of a Friend

Andy — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 17:35:00 GMT

Just 24 hours ago I (Clay) was in a line leading up to the coffin of a high school classmate. As funeral lines go, this one was not that bad. It was inside a beautiful church building with sweet smelling flowers and the now almost required "photo montage" of the deceased playing on a projector screen. I saw many faces that I have not seen in many years including old high school mates and even former teachers. Nobody was able to place me or my face so I got out without having to speak to too many people.

I had lost touch with this particular classmate, as so often happens with good friends from those 12 years of wonder we call school. We had spoken a few times in the past several years but nothing more than just the friendly catch-up banter that you use when you see someone at Wal Mart or Wendy's. He had played college basketball for Delta State and had even made it to the Sweet 16 for Division II. In high school he was "all-everything" in basketball as well as an all-around good guy. I cannot recall him ever getting into trouble with the law or a teacher or ever getting into a fight or staying out too late. By today's standards his parents were ultra strict, which is code for - they made their son behave.

He grew up and married a local girl that was by chance a good friend of my wife. He took a job partnering/working with his father-in-law that covered everything from mulch to pavement. In short, he was just an ordinary guy with an ordinary life.

Back to the "photo montage." Usually these pictures show the highlights of the life of the deceased. The early years. The school years. The married years. The children years. And finally, the last years. Such a formula works if the deceased was in their 70s or 80s. But this man was only 37 years old when he passed away. That fact alone really ruined the prescribed order of photos. The photos suddenly stopped right in the middle of "The Children Years." One moment he was in a tux and taking a bride and the next photo he was on bended knee barking out orders to an Upward basketball team from church. I think that caught me off guard; I'm right there in those same years.

Little league is vital to a boy's development. The picture that your wife makes you take and retake with that uncomfortable tie on while standing alongside your children is of utmost importance to their future. All the times you have looked at your wife during the holidays and said, "Please put the camera down," are words that can be detrimental to your child's future happiness. Trust me. I saw it yesterday in the eyes of an 11 year old boy, who did not blink while picture after picture of his father scrolled before him.

I approached the parents of my now dead friend whom I have not seen in quite some time and his dad just began to bawl. I said the only thing that came to my mind, "You did a fine job raising him." Think of it: One and only one wife; three healthy, church attending children; college educated athlete; hard working, honest business owner and zero criminal record. Pretty decent job of raising a son I think.

No doubt this young man will be missed. By his heart broken wife and children. By his good mom and dad. By his loving siblings. Even by a long lost high school chum. It is not necessary for me to include his name here. Not that anyone reading this would know the man. It is enough for me to simply say that a good man, husband and father of three died Friday afternoon in a horrible accident. Our world is much worse off without him.

The fruits of our labors

Andy — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 21:14:00 GMT

Lately I (Andy) have spent more weekends at funeral homes, gravesides, and/or memorial services than I truly care to acknowledge. Since the first of the year I've either attended or officiated at six funerals - six in eight weeks. Of course, as a pastor this is just one of the duties/responsibilities/privileges in which I get to engage. Normally, I only do 2 or 3 funerals a year (one of the benefits of being an associate pastor on staff) and of course there is always a season of contemplation after each funeral, but I have been overwhelmed with contemplation these last eight weeks. What has been so "neat" over the course of officiating these different funerals or "home-goings" as we like to refer to them, has been the life-long testimonies (including both how they lived and how they died) of faithful believers in the Lord Jesus Christ. Not only have I been greatly encouraged, but I have been greatly reminded of how important it is to "walk with God."

After attending two different services this past weekend I was reminded of the apostle Paul's admonition to the church to set one's eyes upon the finish line, to run with intent, and to finish and finish well. There is nothing more joyful or more comforting than to know that a faithful saint has crossed the Jordon to his/her heavenly home; and to have that knowledge based upon not only their confession of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ but to have witnessed the fruits of a life sold out to God - a life that was full and overflowing - abundant with love, hope, and faith. These have been the kinds of funerals that I have been attending. In fact, the word funeral is to depressing. These have truly been home-goings, parties, celebrations of lives well spent. It has even been a greater blessing to see how family and friends have responded at these celebrations. To hear the encouraging words of family members concerning the memories of these blessed believers has warmed my heart and soul - to hear stories of faithful Bible reading, prayer times, service, and sharing the Gospel has been a great encourager and an even greater reminder of what is truly important.

As this week winds down to an end and I have had time to do some serious considering of all these things it has impressed on me the importance of not just being a good dad, but more importantly, being a godly dad - a righteous dad. With the economy in shambles, the government in question, the future of the church being marginalized, sickness in my family, and a myriad of other mini-crises (not to mention the fact that there is a drought of football for the next six months) it is so easy to get your focus off the most important things in life - God, my wife, my children, my family, my friends, and my calling from God to be about His mission of loving Him with all my heart, mind, soul and then loving others even as I love myself. That is what each of those saints that I helped to bury these past two months not only figured out but it is what they did!

Do you want to be a #1 Dad (or #1 Mom) then keep your eyes on the prize (the finish line - Christ Jesus), run hard, and finish well! Leave the testimony of a life lived in love, hope, and faith for your children to not only celebrate but that they might seek to strive after the example you have established. Make certain that they know you by the fruits you exhibit.

Real Strength

Andy — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 19:27:00 GMT

Recently I (Clay) joined our local wellness center. Last summer I went to see my family doctor, who is a friend from college about some pain I was having in my chest and back. The good doctor flatly told me, "Clay you are just fat." Gee, thanks. Not obese mind you, but I was on my way to getting soft in areas that I had never noticed before. Needless to say I put off and put off this decision until the New Year. No resolutions. No diet plan. Just me eating better and sweating on every machine I could get on. I have taken to this new lifestyle like butter to oats, like syrup to waffles, like sour cream to chili - OK, you get the picture. It is working. I am down 11 pounds in less than a month but have much work to do. Pray for me.

As much as I enjoy feeling better and working out, there are two facets to the wellness center that really bother me. One is the "55 and Over Club." This is a group of senior citizens that meet each morning for coffee and chitchat while walking around and working out. It is funny. The flirting never stops. The ladies love to gather around a central treadmill and point and giggle at the senior men over at the dumbbells going hard at it with the 2 1/2 pound weights. God bless them. I am not knocking their spirit for life but once they get on a machine (like the bench press of all things) they hog it and monopolize it and just will not share! They want to visit and giggle. I want to get finished with my work out! It chaps my hide!

Secondly, and not so much a bothersome facet is the strapping, muscle ridden men over in the corner by the water fountain. Yeah, they got muscles in places that I do not have, and they stay by the water fountain because they know that eventually everyone (including the bright eyed females , envious string bean men, and even giggling senior citizens) will need to visit the water fountain and glance at their "guns." Again, God bless them, but it is the same group in the same spot every day. All they do is lift weights and look in the mirror. They come complete with their iPods and workout gloves. Occasionally one will venture out into the rest of the center just long enough to stroll past the treadmills for anyone that has not worked up a thirst yet.

Then there is me. I am over in the middle of the wellness center trying to figure out how to work the new abdominal machine without injuring my spinal cord while at the same time saying, "Back off grandma! I was here first!" I have noticed something about the muscle crew that got me to thinking this morning. Here is a bunch of guys, mid-20s to early 40s, that hang out in front of a mirror as much as possible. My investigative juices began to flow and I noticed that none of these men, zero to be precise, had on wedding rings. Perhaps they did not want to work out in them, perhaps they just do not wear one - who knows but for whatever reason these men give off every impression that they are single. Not that meeting your future wife in a gym is a bad, that is not my point. I see their slim waste lines and bulging biceps and think, "Man, with just three years of starvation and sweat and possible liposuction that could be me." But it will never be me. In nearly 13 years of marriage I have never had my wedding ring off. I have to be careful not to scratch it on the weight bars but the point is I enjoy something that is bigger than muscles and healthier than fit bodies.

Even in my weak physical state:

I can lift LaNell's spirits after a hard day at home with the boys
I can run all the monsters out from underneath two beds at the same time
I can carry Haddon's fear of needles (Even though he would never admit it)
I can jump for joy at Aslan's basketball games
I can teach two boys and an entire church how to cast off the weight of sins

In the group of senior citizens there are several widows. I know a few of them. Each of those ladies still wears her wedding ring. Those rings shine like the day they were placed on their hands. There is three or four senior citizen married couples that work out together as well. I have noticed them walking together on the walking track, never even looking in the direction of "muscle beach" while passing the water fountain. This morning I saw one man carrying his wife's work out towel around his neck. He wiped down the leg extension machine before and after she got off it. Nothing was too good for his bride. They were slow but they were together.

In the morning I am going back to the center to work out. Tomorrow is cardio day on my schedule. Treadmill, stationary bike, and this cross-country skiing contraption that is just down right embarrassing to get on - that is my plan. As much as I really want a skinnier waistline and some form of...well, form to my body (beside looking like a new Veggie Tale's character), I do not think I am ready to join the water fountain corner of huge deltoids and chest hair. I think I will just mosey around slowly behind the senior citizen crowd. They possess the type of strength I really am interested in.

Sneaky Snake

Andy — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 19:15:00 GMT

It is cold. I mean it is really cold. The kids (and Deb) were out of school yesterday (Tuesday) because of a small ice storm that swept through central Tennessee (of course I [Andy] had to go to work). As I was getting ready to leave work yesterday and head home Debbie called me to inform me that they were all going to the movies (of course it was a 4:15 movie and I didn't get off work until 4:30) and they would be home sometime around 6:30-6:45. No problem!

The night flew by rather quickly. Deb and the kids got home; we ate dinner; the four of us watched a little television; and then everyone started getting ready for bed. This is where the "sneaky snake" incident occurred. Normally Deb goes to bed before I do. In fact, I am usually the last one to hit-the-sack, but last night I was just completely worn out. I headed to bed before anyone else in the house. So there I was, in bed, hunkered down in the covers attempting to fall asleep. That is when I felt the bed dip, the covers lift, and the presence of the sneaky snake - Duncan. To be honest, I was half asleep when this happened and it startled me.

Duncan had decided that he wanted to sleep with me and make his mother sleep in his bed. He had already asked mom but mom had said no. So, he decided that if he was already asleep in the bed (on her side) when she came to go to sleep that she would simply decide it wasn't worth the effort of waking him up and would let him sleep in her bed. Needless to say, his plan didn't work out quite the way he had planned. He might have made it, but his constant giggling after he had shared his devious plan with me alerted his mother to the unfolding plot. His giggling stopped when she forcefully ejected him from her side of the bed. He was dejected.

I asked him why he wanted to sleep in my bedroom last night. Of course I was expecting the usual answers - monsters under the bed, in the closet, or just simply afraid someone would break into the house. But, his answer caught me completely off guard. In answer to my question, he asked me a question. "Do you remember when we used to pretend we were camping out and we would sleep in your room, or my room, or the living room?" These were games we had played when he was five or six. He shared with me that he was just wanting to "campout" and have some fun. I know a lot of my "blogs" center around the same theme - enjoying the time you have with your children, but let me tell you and assure you that they are growing-up and your time with them is fleeting. One day (and it is a day that is approaching quickly) those children that pester you for any and every moment will be too busy to give you a second of their time. I have already began to experience this with my oldest (teenage daughter). It isn't that she doesn't want to be around us; it is simply the fact that she has "other" things to keep her busy. Daddy is no longer the center of her universe. Enjoy the days, the hours, and the moments you have with your children.

It snowed over night and the kids are out of school again today. As soon as I push the save and post button on this blog I am going to shut down my computer and head home to spend some time with the two most precious gifts God has given me. In fact, I think I am going to set up a tent in Duncan's room tonight and camp out!

Basketball

Andy — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 23:50:00 GMT

I Clay) do my best to try and stay away from blogging about Haddon's illness. Honestly, I can only recall perhaps two times in his life that I have even mentioned it from the pulpit. I do not want anyone to get the idea that his story monopolizes my family or my time. All people face struggles on a daily basis. Marriages break up - struggle. Jobs are lost - struggle. College classes are failed and have to be repeated - struggle. I really do want to be known for caring about all people and their struggles. But for just once I want to write in a cathartic fashion.

Just a little over an hour ago I watched my youngest son play in his first little league basketball game. It looked more like hockey between two kindergarten classes with no ice but none the less still a game. We lost 8-4 but who cares. I watched my son run up and down the court with the greatest of ease. I watched his long blonde hair whip around in a sweaty mess like he was on an ESPN highlight reel. We had times out and a half time speech where those might mites came and sat and drank their Power-Aid in all of their glory. I watched Haddon get no less than 4 steals, 6 1/2 rebounds, and make some incredible passes. Haddon had all four points that our team scored. He made one shot where he pump-faked some big kid out of his sneakers and went around him to swish right through the net. The middle school gym has a very loud buzzer on the clock. At the end of a quarter you can see children reaching for their ears because of its deafening BUZZ. Today the buzzer had competition in Haddon's mom. She was even prouder than she was loud!

As I watched my son run and jump and fist pump and trash talk other kindergarteners I could not help but think of all that my little one has to do just to stay in the shape that he is in. On the way home all I could bring to my mind was hearing the sound of my son's *&#*$&@# machine running and the #!(&#% pills he has to take just to get a bag of popcorn and a coke from the concession stand. Please understand that I do not believe in pity parties. I have told him many times that I will never allow myself to feel sorry for him. The gym was full of some great kids with their proud parents. Everyone, including me, was having a blast. It was just very special to witness my son running and fouling and living life as best he can (plus it didn't hurt that he lead his team in EVERY individual category - take that LeBron James!).

I as a father had grace for the moment to sit back and smile. Vicariously through my son I had a brief, ever small chance to tell this horrible monster known as Cystic Fibrosis what was on my heart. As I watched Haddon run and laugh and score and generally be the great kid that he is, I shut my eyes and whispered, "CF...my son just lost his first basketball game but...he is kicking your tail!"

If you can't tell - I am so very proud.