danielredbeard’s weblog

I’m in the car somewhere in the middle of BFE Indiana. Thinking a lot about house church last night. The guy I had the biggest conflict with in our previous house church called yesterday afternoon to see how I was doing in light of my grandpa’s health.

I had left him a couple of voice mails and emails with no response for a few weeks. Then I got the call yesterday, and I got a sense that he had finally truly forgiven me. This released us from the spiritual prison of unforgiveness.

Later we had house church, and it was incredible. Talked about John 8:1-11, regarding judging others. Led to some timely and vulnerable conversations. Shared some prayer needs, too. I’m still reeling from it!

I later learned that my friend’s HC had an incredible discussion and time together. I wonder if there is a party in heaven everytime people truly forgive one another?

How good to have this just before a most difficult trip.

Got me thinking of how tightly I wanted to hold on to the previous season of life. It had run it’s course and I wanted to keep it for the comfort and control. I’m not too bright sometimes.

Today I’m just enjoying the intricate journey I see unfolding in front of me.

Tomorrow morning I and my family will get on the road for Illinois to go spend the weekend with my grandparents. We will basically be saying “goodbye” to them. This will be the hardest trip I have ever made. I am an emotional wreck right now. The slightest thought or memory sets me off. I hope I can keep it together while we’re there.

Two weeks ago today I got a call saying that my grandpa had lung cancer – a tumor that hadn’t been there as of January. We then learned cancer was found on his lymph nodes, around his stomach, and yesterday his liver was now looking like it was being taken over. Apparently this is very aggressive. My grandma is barely holding on, stroke after stroke, living full time in a nursing home. She doesn’t know about the cancer in her husband yet. When she does, the consensus is that it will send her into a downward spiral.

I’ve tried to prep myself for this for  years, but how can one prep themselves for death in any real sense? Shame on me if I were to lose the sense of loss, not grieve, or feel the full weight of losing people I love so dearly. In that sense I embrace the fragility of myself and those around me. Death is very, very real.

One afternoon ten years ago I journaled, “Seeing God face to face is as close as clothes are to nakedness, skin is to muscle.” The veil of the afterlife is so close – we sense it.

Anyway, I wanted to jot these things down, thoughts as I journey through this most wrenching season of life.

The one thing I rest in is that both grandparents surrendered their souls to God through Jesus. Despite the pluralists’ utopia of “all roads” leading to God, truth will always be exclusive, and not all religions can claim having the absolute true way to find God and all be right. Jesus drew the line in the sand when he said that he is the way, the truth and the light; that no one can get to God except through him … surrendering one’s life to him. I have no idea what “asking Jesus in your heart” means. I think it’s a remnant of Christian-ese that really has no Biblical backing at all. But I do know what surrender means, and I am so grateful that no matter what stage of life, a person can always seek “the truth” and find him. I don’t mean to sound brash here… just a rant. Please forgive me if I’ve offended.

More later.

PREFACE:  I thought I had posted this the day before Father’s Day – apparently it was sitting my Drafts folder, so in the spirit of ‘better late than never,’ here are some thoughts about fathers I’ve had circling in my head during Father’s Day.

This will be my second Father’s Day as a father. The first one Garrett was 8 months old, and it was enjoyable. He was very much a baby, and so I just liked being his dad. Simple.

This year Garrett is a full-fledged Daddy’s Boy. Sure, he needs mommy when he’s tired, hurt, hungry, or in need of cuddling, but I’ve become a person in his life that I must admit I’ve not seen played out in the family dynamics of friends and family. I wonder if this is how we’re wired as people in terms of having a Dad.

Our nation – the USA – is now a nation ruled by The Woman. You can crack on a white male all day and night long, call him stupid, primitive, sexually-driven, and incapable of doing more than a few things at once. Say the same things about a woman, and you are a sexist. No questions asked, no second chances. In business this is even more apparent. When I am in competition with a business that has an attractive woman as it’s face, or woman-owned, there is zero chance I am getting the work. At least I’ve never seen an attractive woman competitor turned down in the 10 years I’ve been doing this. If you are a woman, this is your world – the pendulum has swung in your corner. You rule.

Even Father’s Day gets shared attention: Dads & Grads. Mother’s Day, on the other hand, is celebrated with such oozing emotion and obligatory mother-worship that it is one of the busiest days for phone calls and delivery services.

My point is that the role of Father is one that I admit I have rarely seen played out to the extent that maybe God intended. My own father did the best job he knew how. He is a solid example of what a father should be. Yet even he had to work to provide for us, and inso doing he was gone like so many traditional US family dynamics. I just don’t think this is what God had in mind, but it’s what so many of us have to deal with.

So in the new role I find myself in I have to look to the father’s I admire most, and extract those things that I think helped mold their children in the right direction.

From my father, I think one of the biggest practical things he showed me (and continues to show me today) is the principle of not giving advice to people unless they ask for it. Unsolicited advice in life sure can seem honorable, but the receiver of the advice rarely sees it as honorable… most of the time it’s actually very annoying. It’s common sense, really:  If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. If I don’t, feel free to keep it to yourself… or blog about it  This principle has helped earn me respect from co-workers, friends, employers, and others throughout life – that I don’t offer unsolicited advice. I respect the boundaries of others.

Also from my father is the idea of showing God’s love in very practical ways. When we shoveled snow or mowed lawns we could never just do our yard. We had to do the 2 neighbors that flanked our house, and then the 3 that mirrored us across the street. It was done selflessly, and with no expectation of reimbursement.

From other dads I’ve learned the importance of just showing your kids what is good and what is bad by your behavior. My dad’s father was a man of simple pleasure and common sense – he would use the same plastic silverware several times before discarding it. My mom’s father has shown me the importance of friends – how friends literally sustain one’s life. He always had company at his house, friends and family just stopping by to chew the fat. There is a lot of richness in that!

My father in-law is a man who is constantly reading, and constantly searching for wisdom/information. My pal Tobie’s home reeks of creativity – locally  made art on the walls, furniture that just looks like a home, and zest for life I’m sure his kids will hunger for. My pal Steve is one of the humblest men I know, and has a quiet confidence that I admire – very much an example of humility I’m sure his kids will look to one day to emulate. My brother Darin has a sacrificial love for his daughter that I can’t imagine what is like. He is a frig’n ROCK for her. I think of other friends like Mark, Chris, Paul, Jon, Seth, Josh, and so many others…

I could go on and on. So many good dads in my life. I am blessed man to know so many.

Point is, we may be in an era where our culture is ruled by mother (I say that matter-of-fact, not as a complaint), but there is a lot of greatness among fathers. Ours is a quiet revolution, and I accept my role in it.

Last week I was taking my nightly walk when my thoughts meandered toward our house still being for sale, and how I had a lot of internal conflict over this. I had been sensing that we were to stay put – something neither my wife or I want to do. It’s not that we don’t like our neighborhood or the little village we live in… “on paper” it’s frig’n utopia, but in reality it’s kinda boring. The pulse of the village is in the schools, and if you’re not plugged into the schools, you are not really part of the community. School is several years away for us, so it’s weird.

For instance: We sat and ate ice cream with a family that had a very young toddler like our son, and they also had a newborn. The first part of our conversation could have been summed up by asking each other, “What you YOU doing living HERE?!” It’s just so odd to see a young family with toddlers and newborns here. I can count on 1 hand the number of times I’ve seen a young family in this demographic, actually.

Anyway, that underscores why staying put just seemed so bizarre of a thought. Yet this thought kept on me, and I believe it to be a pestering of the Holy Spirit. Why, I have no idea. I just know that this is what I felt.

Then I went to lunch with a friend on Friday, and he began to tell me things that at times literally echoed my thoughts from the past week. I hadn’t told him any of my thoughts – we don’t talk much anymore. On the drive home I prayed. I gave nod to the fact that I knew what I had heard, but asked God that if this was really the case, I’d need him to change my wife’s mind because she had become quite militant about getting out of our current home.

We then went to an in-between church on Saturday night, and on the drive home she spoke of how something in the message had spoke directly to her, and she was comfortable with taking the For Sale sign out of the yard that night. I can’t underscore how big a turnaround this was for her. So that’s what we did, and the sign is now out of our yard. Told the realtor our plans, and he’s sending the paperwork to cancel the contract tomorrow.

On the flip side of this happening is uncertainty. I have no idea what is going on. I do know that we’ve met and made friends with one other family here, and they are transplants, too, from Indiana. It’s an odd place to be.

Today was Father’s Day. My second time celebrating it, and this was a lot of fun. Garrett went to the zoo for the first time, saw some cool stuff, and we learned that he’s really into underwater creatures. Really, though, at a zoo it’s the underwater creatures that give you the most bang-for-buck. The other animals have long gone insane, literally. There’s a polar bear that has been swimming the same lap for the several years I’ve been going to this zoo. I can take zoos in short time periods with lots of time between visits. It’s like going to a prison, really. Such small spaces for those animals. I always leave depressed, but today I have a new perspective. But the time with my boy today was well worth it. Glad he got to see all those animals. We then took a long nap together. It started by him putting his foot on my face (what we call “kicker love”), and I had a case of the tired giggles. It’s such a treat to laugh with him – the same stuff makes us laugh, and sometimes my wife doesn’t get what’s funny. I love it.

Tomorrow we drive to Detroit for a quick trip. Doc appointment for my wife, and hopefully we get a good prognosis for her, as she is really gaining a ton of strength in her reconstructed leg.

The last week has been full of unexpected experiences.

First, the fluff:  My last post set a record for my little corner of the internets. In two days it cranked up almost 200 hits after several folks tweeted about it, and WordPress’ google-friendly relationship. Totally unexpected.

Next, this past Friday we had our first HC restart at our place. Six adults, 3 kids, and at least one other family that will be joining along next time we meet. After the previous HC implosion, and the now-apparent bad soil that had been building up prior to it, I realized that I hadn’t really be a part of a real Church in several months! Sure, I’ve attended a few services at some local buildings, but it was more informative, not relational. The result of Friday was unexpected – we were once again The Church for a few hours amid good food, conversation, worship and candid hopes of what we can do with this. Did not expect that.

Finally, on Friday I got a call I did not see coming at all: That my grandpa has lung cancer, and according to secondhand info, he has “months” to live. At first I was devastated. Totally crushed, and I spent most of Friday’s daytime hours an emotional wreck. But then intuition spoke, and I’d like to think that intuition is where the “still small voice” of God makes His words and direction known. I heard caution, wait, don’t give up or expect that the news of cancer is necessarily what you were told. So that’s what I’ve done. I’m doing as Reagan said – Trust but verify. There are myriad reasons for this, and I simply don’t need or want to go into them. Point is, the diagnosis has a lot of holes in it that need clarifying, and  not from a general family medicine doctor.

Three unexpected experiences ranging in importance. I think it’s a mixture of funny, odd, and incredible at how meticulously woven life can turn out to be. With all the thoughts and conversation about expectations recently, this little season of surprise has a familiar aroma to it.

Working from a home office has lots of challenges. Even more so with a 19 month old toddler who is very much a “daddy’s boy” these days. Just the other day I was on the phone with a new client when Garrett decided to come up to my office and play with some of his favorite “office toys” – mostly stuff I keep in a lower drawer.

As I was talking with the client about her web site, Garrett became frustrated and broke out into one of his shrill scream-fests,which brought my phone call to a screeching halt. Fortunate for me, my client laughed, asked about my son, and after I calmed the boy down we went on.

As from working from home, just being a parent has a daily dose of opportunity to throw you hands in the air, drop a few under-your-breath-f-bombs, and think “I could go the rest of my life without hearing that scream/fuss/meltdown!”

But even though I am aware of the opportunity to think those thoughts, they seem distant to me because I literally can’t go one day without thinking of the people I know who have lost children to death.

The first time I encountered it was via a client from a past job. He and I were great conversationalists, and for a few years we talked about a lot of stuff not related to projects. To this day I keep in touch with him even though he doesn’t have need for my services. He’s just a good man. But a few years ago his 22 year old son went in for a physical and learned he had a very aggressive form of cancer. Within 6 months he was dead. The pain I heard in my friend’s voice was like something I’ve never heard before, and the loss obviously changed his life forever.

When we joined up with our church community we heard the account of one family’s very tragic loss of their 18 month old daughter. Details aside, it was sudden and crushing to everyone. Completely changed how everyone viewed their lives and their kids.

Last August we learned that one of our neighbors also lost their daughter to death, she being only 2 or so months older than Garrett. When I designed some memorial cards for the family in honor of their beautiful daughter, Garrett played at my feet, and I had to excuse myself from the computer a few times while I tried to design something that would honor this little would-be friend of my son.

Aside from these experiences with death, I have several others. A co-worker I worked with for 2 summers on a 2-man team died suddenly of a brain injury. The producer and engineer of my old band’s recordings died of the same injury. I’ve lost 2 grandparents. I also worked for 2 different nursing homes in my late teens, and got to know several people who eventually died.

These experiences have given me a very sober look on life. I believe these experiences, and those to come, have gifted me with seeds of optimism. I can’t comprehend having a foul attitude in the face of the inevitable.

So when Garrett is fussing or melting down, I think to myself (almost every time): “The parents I know would give ANYTHING to hear their kid melt down, fuss, cry, etc. one more time.” When I see a mess Garrett made, or when he calls me a “bad dog,” I have similar thoughts.

Of course it has potential to get me in trouble. I do see that this can go too far if I don’t discipline him. I just hope I can be the kind of father that can discipline with perspective of what’s really going on, keeping away from the trivial bullshit of personal preference.

This month marks my sixth year living in Cincinnati.

I recently saw this post about “America’s Top 10 Unhappiest Cities,” and Cincy made the list @ the 9-spot. As I read the post I came to conclude that it was just putting flesh on what I’ve observed and talked openly about since relocating here. The Cincy natives tend to be a glass-half-empty kind of people. Not quite realists, nor pessamists, just gloomy – always looking to the past.

For instance, I’ve yet to hear of a Baby Boomer talk of Cincinnati in the present-tense! It’s always in the past-tense – usually something about the 70s or 80s. Yet the YP culture downtown, coupled with the cost of living, etc. make for a rather vibrant underbelly of very upbeat things happening in Cincy right now.

I’ll admit that my first year here was not good. I worked as an art director at an ad agency, and that experience will go down as probably the lowest point of my career. No need in rehashing the details. Suffice to say it will forever be regarded to me and those in the know as “The Misunderstanding.”

And as I sought out local resources for that which I had grown to enjoy living in northern Illinois, I was diappointed over and over. Then a few folks started to speak truth to me: That I had to see Cincy for what it is, not what it isn’t. So that’s what I did, and WOW were my eyes opened to what a great little city this is.

Cincy is as good place to buy a house, raise a kid or three, and start/run a business. I can leave my home in Wyoming for a Cubs vs. Reds game and be parked and in my seat within 30-40 minutes, and at roughly 1/2 of what I’d pay in Chicago. GABP is usually filled with Cubs fans, and we call it Wrigley South here. It’s a fine replacement to the “real” thing up north.

The food in this city is amazing and very diverse. The food is the one thing my guests go on and on about – how many different good eats there are in such a small market. We have staple good eats like Cincinnati chili, Graeter’s ice cream, Glier’s goetta, and LaRosa’s pizza, but there are a ton of small restaurants all over the place that serve up the best thai, wings, pizza, mexican, chinese, and mixed foods I’ve ever eaten in my life. Once restaurant in particular downtown is where I had my first orgasmic experience with food. The crabcakes were so amazing, I couldn’t stop talking about them and savoring every bite as I ate.
I could go on and on. Suffice to say – yes, it’s a grumpy little city, but well worth living here.