Quietly as Friends

We all have those kinds friends...you know, the ones that talking to always comes easy no matter the distance in miles or calls between you. You're probably thinking of them right now....thinking about the last time you were able to get together or talk on the phone. It may be months or years but no matter, they are always there quietly, as friends.

Ally, the kids and I spent this last weekend with these friends of mine. What a great time of golf, cookout, tire swings for the kids and general catch up. Between us we have eight children and it's the first time in over three years we've seen each other in a social setting. With kids hanging on every limb or shouting in every ear we were able to chatter as if we were still hanging out on the seventh floor of High Rise.

I was able to bring some old college footage with me for our unofficial reunion. We waded through years of material to find those few precious jewels....John playing basketball in short-shorts and our brilliant but lame attempt to make a sequel to the classic movie 'Hoosiers'. I was amused as our bad acting and even worse script made John's wife so uncomfortable she had to cover her face to keep from watching this horrible train wreck.

Aren't friends great? I will never forget Mark's advice to me as I wrestled with a pivotal decision on who to date my Junior year of college....Allyson or Julia. The choice was clear to him, it must be Allyson! Our dating eventually lead to our engagement, which soon led to our marriage, which then led to our children...thank you for the advice Mark.

John and I were roommates and what a great time we had that year together. I won't get into details but the haircut I gave him almost single handedly ruined his dating career. Had it not been for his plethora of hats, he would have been done for. I have always been amazed at John's writing ability. I remember one night in particular we were at the beach hanging out and looking out over the ocean from our deck. The moon pierced through the clouds in full force. We both wrote that night.....and this is his:

A Clear and Cloudy Night -
Oh God, turn on Your spotlight
Search my heart, where does it start?
I know there's pain behind the clouds
But they look so strong
Why can't I stay here all night long?
Let the stars touch my back
Hide my face in the black
Of this night of twisted dreams

I know someday I'll see
The way it's all supposed to be
But for now I'll stay inside
My pillowed cloud of suicide.
8/12/92

Those old times are long gone but the images and memories are still fresh on my mind. There is something about those kinds of friends that help you remember your glory days...or in my case, lack of glory days! Nonetheless, the great thing about getting together and reminiscing is that I know no matter the distance in miles or separation of states, these friends of mine are always near.

Vision

Watching my son grow up into boyhood has been a great gift to me. His imagination seems limitless and he quite possibly has one of the sweetest hearts on the planet. He inspires me.

Just the other night he and I were talking and I asked him what he wanted to be when he grows up. His eyes brimmed with excitement and he didn't have to think at all because it's been on his mind, on his lips and in his heart for about the past year...."I'm going to be a superhero!"

Now I'm trying to train up a child here and so I try to redirect those thoughts towards God and I say something like, "Bud, you know what dad would love for you to do when you grow up? I would love for you to go around the world and tell others about Jesus and how much He loves them. You know there are a lot of boys and girls who don't know how much God loves them and haven't even heard of Jesus....don't you think we should tell them?"

Of course his response comes without a second of hesitation and in complete childlike faith...."Why don't I be Superman and fly over the ocean to the world and when I get there I can change back into a person and then tell them about Jesus and then put on my Superman costume again and fly back?"

Sweet but ridiculous, don't you think? Let me ask you... why can't we have a vision for the world that sounds so ridiculous we could never accomplish it ourselves?

I read recently of a Pastor who was praying in his study for God to bless and be with his ministry. He was prostrate on the floor pouring his heart into his prayer and confessing that he didn't want to preach without God's power. However, he declared that suddenly it seemed that the roof over him opened and a hand came down and touched his shoulder and it seemed that God's voice spoke within him, saying, "My son, stop praying! When he became quiet, the Voice seemed to clearly say, "My son, with plans no bigger than yours, you don't need my power!"

When you hold a seed in your hand do you see just a seed.....or do you see a forest? "Where there is no vision, the people perish." - Proverbs 29:18

God, give us a vision and a heart for the world that is all encompassing and Christ directed! Give us vision that is impossible for us to accomplish on our own. He's given it to Grant....can't He give it to you?

Cleats of Destruction

Wednesday night Grant had a friend sleep over. This is the middle boy of our best friends and what a character he is! Sam is always up to something and it usually involves his great imagination or bargaining for Grant's toys....he is a dealer much like his father.

So here I come home from church and as I was walking up the stairs they were there to greet me. These two boys have a great time together and Ally and I were happy to have Sam over.....until.....I caught something out of the corner of my eye. What were those things on his feet? The noise was a piercing yet familiar one that took me back to my little league days. "Surely not" I thought....but as I focused I saw something I hadn't seen since the late 70's, early 80's! CLEATS on hardwood floors!!! Immediately my blood pressure spiked because I could see the hardwood floors being torn to shreds underneath his feet. Pieces flying everywhere exposing down to the sub-floor....ahhhh, the horror!

From everything I was taught back in the day, cleats were the death of hardwood floors. I can still see Hyatt's (my brother) cleats lined up on the hearth next to mine where we were to take them off. Even the steps from the front door to that hearth were to be executed in stealth mode as not to leave the slightest mark. And what if they were muddy from our field of dreams at the Jewish Community Center (baseball) or Boys Industrial School (soccer)? They were excommunicated to the garage or left outside the basement door. I will never forget the day my brother was stored in the trunk of my dad's car on the way home from a game because his cleats were filthy! Does it get any better than that? I think not!! We have laughed about that around the dinner table for some 25 years now.

So what was I to do with little Sammy? I took the road less traveled.

"Hey Sam, what are you wearing on your feet?" (I'm still processing here)

"My soccer cleats"

"Why you wearing those, bud?"

"Because so I can run real fast and race."

Makes perfect sense to me....and I dropped it.

Don't get me wrong. You will never see Grant in our house with cleats because I do believe there are family traditions that should be passed down from generation to generation. And if I ever have the chance to put Grant in the trunk, I won't hesitate....for his sake and the sake dinner conversations to come.

SUV Plasmas

In light of my last post I thought this was very funny.

Driving home Friday night with Grant after a wonderful evening of swimming and barbeque he gave me some vehicular advice.

"Daddy"

"Yeah, bud"

"I think you need to sell your car and buy one that has a TV in it."

"Grant, I don't want a TV in my car because then we wouldn't have such great conversations....don't you enjoy talking with your pops?"

"Or maybe you could go to Wal-Mart and get some glue and glue a TV right up there so I can watch it."

"I don't want a TV in here....and as a matter of fact I'm going to trade cars with mommy so that you won't have a TV to watch everytime you hop in the car....what do you think about that?!"

"No, I don't think so."

So, from that point we called a TV cease-fire. When I drive Allyson's car around town we'll do without the TV but when he and sister are with mom there is unlimited brain rot via the boob tube....in return I'm allowed to keep my truck free from televisions and full of wonderful superhero heaven talk!! Good enough!

Unless You Come to Me as One of These Little Ones...

I know, I know...not enough blogging here to keep any ones interest but if you'll bear with me I will eventually get the hang of it and blog 'til I can't blog no more!

4th of July was a great day for Grant and me. It was a day when all of the memories of childhood came flooding back with currents of clarity. I could see myself with my brother traipsing down the Cannonball Factory creek, lifting rocks all in search of those elusive Banded Water Snakes! And here I was some 25 years later driving my son to my old huntin' grounds. We were both so excited about our adventure. He was ripe with childhood expectation of giant snakes chasing us in the waters as we fought them off with daggers and swords. I was full of fatherly hope for a couple of nice snakes we could catch, video and begin another generation of Sutton Snake Hunter...who knows, maybe turn it into a Discover show someday.

The Lord was good and we found three great Banded Water Snakes and managed to catch two of them. Get this, the first rock I turned over exposed a nice size serpent! The old man's still got it!! I was able to get video proof and we both left that day with memories to cherish.

Having told that story, I must confess that the most special time came in the truck ride to the Cannonball Factory. The fact that I don't have a TV in my truck like Allyson always lends itself to some fun and never boring conversations with Grant. They usually revolve around what superhero he wants to be when he grows up or some well thought out technical superhero questions like, 'why doesn't Batman fly?' or 'can Spiderman pick the Hulk over his head?'. Needless to say, this conversation he started caught me off guard.

He began asking me about heaven and the new bodies we'll have in this place. How do you explain to a four year old about new bodies (probably not as awkward as the birds and the bees)?? As I tried my best to describe this new body in the new heaven and new earth he let me know he liked his the way it was and didn't want a new one! It struck me, how many of us live as though this world was the only one worth living for? But to see Grant listen and soak it up with childlike faith all the while processing what it must look and feel like up there was simply amazing. No number of successful hunting trips can take the place of filling my son up with the things of God. And this because I know that when all the superheroes are gone, his childlike imagination wears thin like his dads hairline and he is just too old to make it down to the Cannonball Factory, he'll still have the hope of God, the promise of all things new.

The last thing that I will cherish forever from this conversation came as an afterthought from Grant. We were riding down the road after our conversation and had been silent for almost a whole minute when I heard him say under his breath to himself staring out the window, "I think about heaven all the time."

Teach me, my son, to set my heart on things above.