Cherishing What Needs to Be Cherished

Throughout my time at Biola I never lacked the time for contemplative prayer or mediation on God's word. I used the homework assignments in my bible classes as an opportunity to do such things. As a result, my affections for the Lord constantly enraptured my heart. Making the transition to the next life stage, however, has proved difficult in terms of that same intense contemplative mediation on the things of God. We all have lives to live but my mistake is putting God on the "to-do" list when everything else should permeate from our relationship with God. Although I still read my bible consistently I often don't think about what I've read throughout the day like I use to. So here's my first step on changing that by writing some thoughts down on what I read this morning.

Psalm 66

16 Come and hear, all you who fear God,
and I will tell what he has done for my soul.
17 I cried to him with my mouth,
and high praise was on my tongue.
18 If I had cherished iniquity in my heart,
the Lord would not have listened.
19 But truly God has listened;
he has attended to the voice of my prayer. (emphasis added)

This verse brought deep conviction in that I have to stop and wondered what iniquities have I cherished in my heart? Is it the pursuit of useless things and believing they are somehow useful? Are there things I've held onto without even realizing it? If I pray that the Holy Spirit would reveal those things to me the scary thing is, He might actually do it. But what's life without a healthy sense of fear. And the Lord has already answered my prayer about returning to a place of contemplation, which leads to delightfulness in the Lord. It will take some pain and discomfort to reestablish that discipline but what else am I going to do? He holds the Words of eternal life and in His presence is the fullness of joy. There's no other place I would rather be.

Making A Splash

My weekend warrior routine usually consists of me playing basketball Saturday mornings, coming home and bragging to my wife about how well I played, and working out on Sundays after church to make sure I can still play basketball well enough to brag about it to my wife.

However, this particular Saturday morning was different. I used to think girls who got frustrated when men didn’t know what they were thinking were weird. I mean, how are we supposed to know what girls are thinking? We don’t expect them to know what we’re thinking (although, admittedly, guys usually think about nothing anyway). Girls refer to this expectation of theirs as, “Picking up the signs.” I wish that instead of applying some type of electroencephalography and hoping our neurons reach a comprehensive understanding of all forms of non-verbal communication, girls would just go ahead and tell us what they want.

Ha!

That’s just naïveté on my part. Older husbands know that’s never happening. You have to “pick up the signs” or else... Communicating in plain English just makes too much sense. But that’s another story for another day. I admit I’m getting better at “picking up the signs” from my wife. This particular weekend for example, I was headed out for my morning basketball routine and noticed she seemed stressed out and the kids were crying. I had my bag in hand and was ready to go. She would’ve been the “good wife” and been fine with it. But in clear conscience, I couldn’t just leave her in that state.

So I asked her if there was anything I could do to help. In short, I stayed and watched the kids so she could clean the house a bit more easily. We made plans to go to the local water park, Splash, later in the day. It just made sense to skip basketball that morning, help my wife, and hang out with my family.

Back when I was single, I remember dreading this exact situation. I would have to “give up my freedom” in order to attend to “family duties.” Strangely, I didn’t really mind missing out on some basketball. They’ll be other days to play. I was happy to help my wife and be with my baby girls. Who would’ve thunk?

After cleaning up the house, we got the kids ready for Splash. It would be my first time there, so I was looking forward to it. My oldest daughter loves the water. When we got to Splash, she wanted to go everywhere, but only if I was in arm’s reach of her. She was confident when daddy was around. She knows daddy will protect her, watch over her, and take her to places she can't go on her own. Her recognition of daddy's role gives her confidence to venture out and experience life.

I realized it’s a great stage in life. We must’ve gone down the slide about hundred times, and she never got tired of it. I loved every minute of it. I’ll never forget this particular day with my daughter and the chance to simply have a fun day with her as her daddy. In all of it, I realized that she’s starting to recognize me as a distinct person. Her Mom and I work together as a team, but she also knows that there are things that she can do with just Daddy (including our nighttime routine of “flying” up to the ceiling after Mom gives her a kiss).

Interestingly, she probably won’t remember this day. Initially this may seem sad. But it’s the accumulative moments gathered together over a long period of time that builds the relationship between a father and his child. It’s a double blessing in that you enjoy the moment as well as build towards a better relational future.

Dave and Bust

Young parents know that it becomes extremely difficult to have a simple date night with your spouse when the kids arrive. However, even though having children decreases your mobility, spending quality time with your spouse is essential to a healthy marriage.

So after making all the necessary arrangements, my wife and I often go to Dave and Busters for date night. The food is okay, but we really go for the games. It’s like a casino for kids or an arcade for adults. It’s a place where you spend a bunch of money in order to win some tickets you can use to buy overprice useless stuff. Where do I sign up? We decided that it would be more fun if we worked towards a goal- getting our oldest daughter a giant stuffed bear. Of course it was like a million tickets and we could probably just buy the doll for about 1/6th the cost but it’s the process of winning at the games that makes it fun.

I never thought my wife would actually enjoy playing games since she never grew up playing arcade games. She spent time calculating how much she could save in college by taking AP classes in high school. (At this point, she would probably remind me that the year of college classes that she saved at Biola amounted to about $20,000. I guess it wasn’t time wasted…) At any rate, Dave and Busters reminds me of when my sister and I would go to Chucky Cheese as kids. Buying useless stuff with all the tickets we won (or stole) was fun times. To my surprise my wife does have quite a bit of fun doing the same thing. It’s a good night out with my wife.

At Dave and Busters, you can turn in tickets you’ve won without spending them. They will load that amount of tickets on a card that you can keep for future use. After a few outings, we were able to accumulate a decent amount of tickets. As we were looking in the store to potentially cash out, my wife noticed a father with his daughter looking at some dolls. The little girl wanted a certain doll but her father kept saying, “Sorry honey but we don’t have enough. We only have 185 tickets.” My initial thought was, “Wow. You must really suck at games and why are you even in the store? You can’t buy anything with that amount.” My wife, the more thoughtful side of this relationship, quietly says to me “Honey, I think that’s sad she can’t get that doll. Maybe we should get it for her.” My jerk reply was “But we worked hard for these tickets and they are for OUR daughter.” “But we have plenty of tickets for both,” she kindly responded.

At this time, I knew I would be a complete jerk if I didn’t buy the little girl a doll, and my conscience later would only confirm it. So we approached the little girl and her dad and told them we would begrudgingly gladly buy the doll she wanted. The dad responded, “Really? Are you sure?” “No problem. I don’t mind helping out other dads who suck at games,” I replied (in my head). The dad looked at his little girl and said, “Look dear, these nice people are going to buy you the doll.” The little girl inquisitively looked up at her dad and said, “What about sister?” The dad then looked back at us with a face that said, “Yeah, what about her sister?” Before I had any time to respond my wife quickly said, “We’ll buy one for her too.”

We bought Joelle a couple of smaller dolls (a lion and a monkey). Afterwards I just gave the dad our card with the rest of the tickets on them while forcing a smile. They were grateful and we told them “Have a good night, enjoy the toys, and God bless.” On the drive home I told my wife, “A dad who sucks at games shouldn’t get off the hook.” She replied, “But you know it wasn’t about him. We made a couple of little girls happy tonight.” “I guess,” I said dejectedly. What a bust!

Once we got home we showed Joelle the dolls we got her. The joy on her face was absolutely priceless. She won’t go to bed without them and carries them all over the house. I guess a giant bear that was bigger than her really wasn’t that practical anyways. Things didn’t work out how I thought they would. But I guess it pays to not be a jerk sometimes.

Freedom Food

A few months ago I hired a personal trainer to help me meet my fitness goals. I’ve been working out for years, but it just got boring doing the same stuff over and over again. I needed a new challenge. The personal training sessions were 50-minute “hours.” I thought to myself, “You’re cheating me 10 minutes!” However, when the first session began, I wanted to quit 25 minutes into the workout. It completely redefined my idea of “working hard.” After a few months of going through these new workouts in order to improve my performance, I’ve come to realize that I need to take the next step, which is eating healthy.

I’ve eaten a lot better ever since I got married because my wonderful wife has done her best to limit the crap I put into my body. But I’ve been known to sneak in a doughnut from time to time and the occasional carne asada burrito (I’m being generous when I say “occasional”). Recently, my sister decided to start getting fit. It’s improved her quality of life. I’ve been telling her to start going to the gym for years, but like most things I tell her, she has to do it when she wants to do it. Then it was all her idea to begin with. This time, she’s even gone as far as “meal prepping,” which means mapping out everything you’re eating, everything you’re going to eat, and the right portion of supplements I can’t pronounce. She lectures me by saying, “You workout extremely hard, imagine how much better you’d be if you ate better, foo!” Yes, that's how she talks to me.

Well I’ve decided to take the plunge- and my sister’s advice- and start eating better. I don’t even mind giving her credit. I’m giving her 6 weeks to tell me what to eat, and I’m going to commit to it. She even came over and mapped out everything for me. I got dizzy just listening to her tell me what to eat and when to eat it. It's imperative I keep track of my intake. This is something I've NEVER done. I've just eaten when I'm hungry and then I stop eating when I'm full, end of story.

Once my friends caught wind of this, they all mentioned how much I was going to complain about this during the course of 6 weeks. So this is me front loading the complaining so I don’t have drive my friends and family crazy. Although I'll probably do that anyway.

Eating is a wonderful gift from God. As any good gift from God, it can be abused and used in ways that it was never intended. I don’t think I’m a glutton, although if you see me eat you might challenge that idea. Having a doughnut once in a while to me is like, “Stopping and smelling the glazed covered roses.” You have to enjoy the little things in life or you’ll go mad. After a hard day’s work, almost nothing is more soothing then a nice juicy steak for dinner. Now I’m voluntarily giving up my dietary freedom (and paying an arm and a leg) in order to see how the results will affect me physically. Eating boring food is well . . . boring.

So I begin this new journey and new challenge with an open perspective that giving up small luxuries will give me a far better outcomes than the minor indulgences I enjoy daily. After I finish my last box of doughnuts of course.

See you in 6 weeks.

Bedtime

The other night, my wife was looking at video footage of Joelle when she was younger, still crawling around and laughing, and felt a tiny bit of sadness because she was growing up too fast. I thought to myself, “Relax. She’s not even two years old yet.”

A couple of days later my wife told me, “We need to get a bed for Joelle because she’s getting too big for the crib.” I said, “Okay,” but thought “How much is this bed going to cost, and will I have to be the one putting it together?” My wife recognized the look on my face and said, “It’s going to cost around $200.00? And yes, you’ll have to put it together.” Well then, I guess that’s that.

We took an early drive to IKEA and purchased the bed we wanted for Joelle. It was surprisingly easy to put together. I didn’t drop one F-bomb while I was assembling it. Once we finished setting it up in Joelle’s room, we were excited to see how she was going to react. Joelle was excited and jumped on the bed and had an ear-to-ear smile that would melt your heart. The true test, however, would be if she would actually sleep on it. The evening came and so did bed time. Joelle began complaining immediately that she didn’t want the bed and started crying. Instead of fighting her all night about it, my wife decided to put her back in the crib. What a waste of $200.00. I could’ve bought some new Kobe shoes with that money or spent at least 20 minutes at the blackjack table before losing it all.

My wonderful wife, however, came up with a plan to rearrange the furniture so the bed was in the same place as the crib in order to give Joelle the same perspective of the room while she was sleeping. As it turns out, it worked! It worked during nap time anyway. I had yet to see if it would work through the night. Again, the evening came and it was bedtime for Joelle. Our nightly ritual includes reading some stories to her, my wife putting her down, and then I close with a kiss and tucking her into bed. Last night was a little different though. I sat there on her new bed and held her reciting scripture and telling her the Lord provided a new bed for her. I also kept telling her how much I loved her. I could’ve been there on the bed all night with her it was so much fun. I tucked her in and told her “good night” as usual. After I closed the door, something hit me. My little girl IS growing up. She’s forming into a little person with her own thoughts and feelings. She tells me she “loves me” and can’t go to sleep without “daddy’s kiss.” Maybe she’s just posturing because she doesn’t want to get kicked out when she turns 18. Or maybe she knows I’m one of two people in the house who knows how to work the DVD player and can turn on Baby Einstein for her. Either way, if I were capable of crying I think I would have.

Eventually my little girl will grow up and be less affectionate, more independent, and start dating someone I disapprove of. But for now, I’m going to enjoy these moments with my daughter because it’s worth more to me than a hundred pairs of Kobe shoes.

Friends, Mothers, and MVPs

Kevin Durant’s MVP speech made my Mother’s Day blog this year pretty easy. I’ve watched it a few times and wept every time. Sure I might be an emotional sap but it really struck a chord with me on several different levels. But I’ll only talk about two.

First, KD talked about each and every teammate and gave specific examples on how they have positively influenced his life. There were times throughout the season, and even his entire career, which he felt discouraged, where he failed, where the odds were stacked against him. But he survived in no small part because of the community and teammates around him. Yes KD is the star on the team. And yes, he had the best 2013-2014 NBA season of any player including Lebron James. However, that does not imply he did it alone or by steer will power of self-strength and fortitude. Even though that particular narrative of a lone superstar “willing his team to victory” has become the staple by which elite players are judged by it’s also unreal. No one can win alone.

In the same way several people in my life, which I could give specific examples of, have helped me “win” this game called life. I need encouragement and affirmation just like anyone else. I also need wisdom when I’m trying to figure stuff out. I also need examples to watch and mimic in order to have epiphanies and “Oh, that’s how you do it” moments.

Second, and the most appropriate for this weekend, KD talked about his mother and gave her the most praise. He talked about how much she sacrificed, how much she motivated him while he was playing basketball as a kid, how she kept him off the streets, the nights she went hungry so that he wouldn’t, which ultimately led to this moment, “mom, you’re the real MVP.” The camera capturing Durant’s mother’s reaction while he was saying these things was priceless.



I kept thinking about my mom and all the same things she did for my sister and I. Sadly, I would never have the opportunity to express the immense gratitude like Durant did. I don’t know if she could still see me now. But if she could I believe she would have a similar reaction much like Durant’s mother. And as the years passes by I realize more and more my mother is the real MVP.

Happy Mother's Day.

Shooting Stuff & Bro Time

A while back Eric and PJ invited me to go shooting with them. I’ve wanted to do this for a while, so I couldn’t pass this up. I have daughters now, so I should start equipping myself with the skills needed to be a good father. Learning how to handle guns should be close to the top of the list for fathers with daughters. It was also an opportunity to get some “guy time” with my brothers-in-law since when the three of us are together we’re usually in the company of 27 screaming children. Atoms can’t even bond under those circumstances.

We got an early start on the day and went by to pick up the equipment (e.g., guns). As I watched my brothers-in-law loading the car, I thought they were getting ready to invade Iran. You probably know they’re former military dudes and know how to handle guns. I, however, handled a gun once about 10 years ago. Despite growing up in a bad part of East Los Angeles, I never got into guns. This really was a new experience for me. PJ went through all the safety procedures and proper gun etiquette before I even touched a gun. He even started breaking down the different types of guns we had and going over the year, make, and model like a used car salesmen. Could I tell you any of the information PJ shared with me? Of course not, I only remember the guns required bullets of some kind.

Eric, on the other hand, simply said, “Just throw the clay so we can start shooting.” Naturally, it took me a while to get the hang of it. I missed quite a few times at the beginning and began feeling less and less like a man. But once I got the hang of it and started hitting the clay I started to get fired up. There’s something affirming for a man when he obliterates inanimate objects. Women like to create things like Arts & Crafts, digital photo albums, and babies. Men bond over food (especially bacon), blowing stuff up, and doing dangerous things completely unsupervised. That’s just how it works.

After a few hours of shooting from several different guns at several different types of targets we cleaned everything up and headed to In-&-Out for some burgers. During this time, we got to talk about what’s going on with our lives without 27 screaming children climbing on top of each other. It was great. I cherish these few moments in life especially new experiences like shooting stuff with really big guns. I love my brothers-in-law. I totally have an intelligential, analytical, and systematic side much like PJ. There’s also a part of me like Eric which is the “shut up and just do it,” adventurous, no-nonsense, “jumping out of planes” side, except for the part about jumping out of planes because I’m afraid of heights. But if I weren’t afraid of heights . . . uh . . . I probably still wouldn’t jump out of planes. The point being is that I connect with each of my brothers-in-law with different sides of my brain. I’m happy to be a part of the family, and I’m extremely happy they’re equipping me for fatherhood.