Jon

It seems we've had lots of tragedies in and around our family for quite awhile.  We've heard all the "quotes" and even have said a few..."time heals all", "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger", "don't get bitter, get better", "I know what you're going through"...and on it goes.

I know people are just trying to help, I've done it myself.  You can't think of anything to say that would help, so you resort to cliches, but then you walk away feeling silly because that's all it is...just a cliche.

Mostly, just be there.  Just listen, and then listen some more.  Just hug.  Cry.  Send a note and say nothing but "thinking of you."  Send a text.  Don't preach.  Don't try to be a psychotherapist.  Just listen, and then listen some more.

My sons have lost one of the closest and dearest, loyal friends they have had since childhood.  It was an unexpected tragedy.  A young man, full of life, gone.  But let me change gears here.  This blog isn't about our pain, but rather about his life.

I got to hear lots of stories since the accident, most of them funny.  Because that's what he was...fun.  As one person put it, "he went through life wide open!" 

My sons played soccer and basketball with him from elementary school all the way through high school, and that's the way he played sports, too....wide open.  We had so many ball trips together, closed up in a small van with three  to four boys, one giggly girl, and two haggered moms. He had a nack of grating on your nerves while you tried to stifle a giggle at his antics.   Sometimes that "wide open" was enough for us to want to throw the doors open and push him out, but if we had, he would have rolled out laughing.

He wasn't the best ball player, but he gave over and above so that the "best" could lead the team to victory.  You never had to worry if he was going to be down one game and up the next, he was always up and heaven help the other team, because "slide tackle" was his favorite play, whether it was soccer or basketball or goofing off.  You never turned your back on him!

He lived hard, played hard and loved hard.  Out of all the boys that have gone through my house during those years, eating all my food, making messes all over the place, he was one that I can say without a shadow of a doubt, that loved my boys. He loved them beyond the classmate comraderie.  He loved them with a love reserved for just brothers.  He was their brother in their hearts, and they were his.  Even after school, when life causes separation, there was no separation in their hearts .  There was only love and respect and so many memories.

I've heard stories of wrestling, fireworks, mud bogging, four wheeling, paint ball guns, football trips and hunting.  And I'm sure there are stories that I never want to hear, but threaded throughout each story was laughter, craziness, and more laughter.

No, he was not an angel.  He could cause the best want to strangle him sometimes, but he had a good heart.  No, he had a great heart.  He gave when no one else even thought about it.  He gave and wanted it kept quiet because he didn't want others to know who gave.  And he gave alot.

So, while I know he's up to some kind of mischief behind those pearly gates, I hope he hears me when I say, "thanks."  Thank you for being so tender hearted.  Thank you for the laughter you gave us.  Thank you for the love you showed to others.  Thank you for being a friend to my sons.

Jon....Caleb....Josh

A man that hath friends must show himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother.  Proverbs 18:24

FIND A WORD

                                                                          
                                                            

                                                            

It's so good to have men that mimick the attributes and character of God, enabling their little darlings to

get just a glimpse of our Heavenly Father.

What words pop into your mind when you hear the word "Dad"?  Maybe, protection.  A good dad will make his child feel safe.  Crawling into his lap during a thunderstorm; having him check under the bed for monsters;  looking mean at the scrawny boy who's taking his daughter on her first date;  securing his daughter's arm as she walks down the aisle to marry that scrawny boy.

I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety.  Ps. 4:8

How about hard working?  Having dad walk in from a long and hard day's work, being exhausted but still getting down in the floor to wrestle;  after eight to ten hours on the job, then mowing and weedeating the yard; going to ballgames and events even though he's bone weary.

But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4:19.

There's always the dreaded word....discipline.  This word has a love/hate thing going on.  We love to know there's structure, but we hate having to accomodate that structure.  It's nice to know everything's orderly, but not fun having to create order.  I think of bedrooms.  There were lots and lots of "discussions" over bedrooms in our house.  I wanted order.  No one wanted to create that order.  Bedrooms were a thorn in my flesh, but for others it was a place of pretend, giggles, and wrestling. However, when the disorder became unbearable, to the point of pulling out my hair and my face being a weird shade of red, dad would step in.  There would be romping, loud noises, and flashes of little boys running around, until a large shadow would fill the door....DAD!  Romping stopped, noises ceased, and all you could see of little boys were big eyes staring at DAD in anticipation. A stern voice, a glaring look, and all of a sudden there was lots of action in creating order once again.  I don't get it.  I guess it's hard to take serious, a high pitched, southern accented voice, and my glaring look always got giggles, so thank goodness for Dad.

If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons;for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not?  Hebrews 12:7

How about the word, fun or laughter.  There has to be a sense of humor in being a dad.  If you didn't laugh at some of the things going on in the house, there surely would be tears and nervous breakdowns on a daily basis.  This past weekend, there was a dvd of an old game my son played in showing on the tv.  My son and husband were watching it, and I was watching them.  You see, my husband was the coach of my son at that time, so they were reliving the moment.  The team would do something, and Tim would be talking to the tv, coaching them again. My son would sit there and laugh because Tim was getting so engrossed in the game again.  While I was sitting there watching them interact that way, I couldn't help but laugh. We were having fun over the fun that we'd already had! How funny.
Tim could make the boys laugh when they were young, and now, get togethers are filled with laughter and stories of fun times.  Laughter and sense of humor is a way of forgetting the humdrum of every day
existence, it helps cope with all the struggles we have day in and day out. I look around at people that
never smile or laugh, and just see someone existing, not living life.

I'm so glad that God had a sense of humor, I mean, look at a giraffe with that long neck; or a hippo with
those tiny little ears and that enormous grin that goes from little ear to little ear; or the time our teens
went to Costa Rica and we were stranded in the airport for over eight hours, only to accidently pass by a pile of suitcases sitting in the hallway...wait a minute!  Those were our suitcases!  They hadn't been put on the plane and if we'd boarded, we would have been in Costa Rica for ten days with no clothes!  We laughed and laughed about how God was probably sitting in heaven, just shaking his head because it took us so long to figure out the situation.
So, yea, I think God has a sense of humor...silly looking animals, crazy situations, and my ears (we'll not go there).

A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones. Proverbs 17:22

And then, there's the word everpresent...always there.  Dad is there when he sees his little precious breath their first breath of life.  Dad is there for first steps, first words, and first dates.  He's there for the victories in sports events and he's there when a heart has been crushed.  Yea, a good dad takes care to just be there.

Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence?  If I ascend up into heaven,
thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.  If I take the wings of the morning, and
dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and they right hand shall hold
me.  If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me.  Yea, the
darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day:  Psalms 139:7-12

So, young dads, if you're out there scratching your heads, trying to figure this "dad" thing out...just read
the Bible.  You'll get lots of clues on what to do, where to go, and how to act.  And if that doesn't work,
find an older dad out there that's lost his hair, has a few scars, but still has a smile on his face.  He
knows how it works...he's already been there, done that.