18 Years Old – an Ode to Shelbi
Shelbi at 3, end of first photo shoot
Today we not only celebrate the life of our oldest daughter, but in more ways than she will ever know her arrival changed the course of our lives.
Her arrival sparked a certain urgency in Kristi to find me a job. Indirectly Shelbi is responsible for me spending the last 17 years at Lexmark.
I also happened to gain a significant amount of weight during that first pregnancy. So, indirectly Shelbi is responsible for me weighing more than I should. 🙂
I wasn’t the best husband in the world. In fact, the Cowboys were playing on TV while Kristi was in labor with Shelbi. And while I tried to enjoy the game I was strongly encouraged, maybe threatened is more accurate, by my Lamaze Instructing mother and wife to massage feet and calves for hours. So, Shelbi is indirectly responsible for my fading fanaticism in regards to the Dallas Cowboys…that and Jerry Jones. And is also indirectly responsible for making me more responsible.
We built a house because Shelbi was coming. We bought a car because she was coming. We spent money on a glider and bought a brown Lay Z Boy because she was coming (it’s still my chair). We bought a really good, and really expensive, vacuum cleaner because she came (we still have the same Kirby and would never own anything else). We bought a video camera because she came. I learned that putting together a crib can take hours, that the best way to relieve constipation is to shove a thermometer in your rear end, that holding you so you faced out and pulling your knees to your chest helped relieve some of your colicky pain – boy were we exhausted those first few months, and that breast milk isn’t always the best form of nutrition. I learned that there are some hurts Daddy can’t fix, and there are some fears Daddy can’t fight. I learned how to trust doctors to do surgery…twice. I learned that blankets with holes in them can bring comfort and two fingers are always better than one, but allowing you to suck fingers instead of a pacifier was a poor choice regardless of how cute it was. I learned that it is possible for a nine year old to be compassionate (Bunko for Tsunami Recovery Birthday). I learned that suffering through being the oldest child doesn’t prepare you to raise your oldest child. I learned that regardless of how well you think you know your kid it is never a good reason to fail to get to know your kid. I learned that being up front with my kids with my mistakes doesn’t necessarily mean my kids won’t make the same mistakes with worse consequences.
Senior picture with Momma
Most of all I learned to love. Unconditionally love. And for that I think everyone should thank you.
Regardless of the cost, the change, the lessons, the pain you were worth it. You is kind, you is smart, you is important. Welcome to adulthood. Now the true test of whether or not we did a good job of being your parents begins. May God be gracious and merciful because perfect we were not.
To that I think I can hear you say, “AMEN, brutha!”
A Frustrating Journey
“17 When Pharaoh released the people, God did not lead them by the way to the land of the Philistines, although that was nearby, for God said, “Lest the people change their minds and return to Egypt when they experience war.” 18 So God brought the people around by the way of the desert to the Red Sea, and the Israelites went up from the land of Egypt prepared for battle.” Exodus 13:17-18
Often in this life, and maybe often isn’t the reality but always, we get frustrated by the way…by the journey we are on in this life. God has called us to something great and we know that it is true, but the realization of the promise of God may take a lifetime. Like Simeon and Anna the day Jesus was presented in the Temple as a babe they had waited a lifetime to see the promised Messiah, and so we too must be reminded that God’s ways and God’s days are not like ours.
The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. So, while it may have been more efficient to go to the Promised Land by heading due East it was not the best route to take. God knew that this fledgling nation needed to gain some confidence in God and their leadership before going into battle, and so they took a longer and more physically and emotionally demanding route. In the end we get the story of the parting of the Red Sea and the destruction of Pharaoh once and for all because of this detour. With this in perspective you can imagine why the Israelites were frustrated with the fact that God was leading them to certain death. Here they were pinned against the Red Sea by the Egyptian army when they could have taken the shorter route through the land of the Philistines and been almost home by now. But God’s ways and God’s days are not like ours and in the end from our perspective we see what God saw.
Now if we can just take time to remind ourselves of this truth when we are in the midst of our frustrating journey to our Promised Lands. God fulfills His promises at the right time and in the right way. So, our prayers might need to be more “God prepare me for the journey, ” instead of “God, can you hurry this up?”
O Ye of Little Faith
There are a few times in the Bible where Jesus seems exasperated with those around him. In Matthew 8:26 Jesus seems to be disturbed by the fact that he isn’t getting much rest because the disciples, who are in the same boat, are freaking out over the storm in which they find themselves. I don’t know how many times I have read that and thought, “What is wrong with those guys?”
Often people mistakenly think that ministers, elders, and the spiritually elite are somehow immune to the issues of “little faith.” Often ministers make that mistake in evaluating themselves too. Ministers should be ministers not because of their faith, but because they are obedient to a calling. Which means the only reason I am in ministry is because God chose me and I’m being obedient to that. We may be able to cover our tracks pretty well because we seem to have it together when others are suffering. However, when the suffering becomes our own we stand in just as much need or greater need of increased faith.
Recently, I got to be one of those people I have visited in a hospital waiting room. At first I was ok, but as the hours slipped by I fell deeper and deeper into a state of anxiety almost to the point of tears as I began to anticipate what may become of someone I loved and who I can least afford to lose if I am to survive this life. No amount of prayer or scripture seemed to stem the tide of my unraveling. Outside I think I was holding it together, but inside I was not a picture of faith, trust, or did I look like someone who was fully devoted to Jesus. It was a humbling experience and one that identified once again that I’m just like those guys in the boat.
But here is the good news. I am more like the man in Mark 9:24 than I like to admit, but it is my admission that hopefully leads to Christ’s action on both my part and the part of the one I love. O Ye of Little Faith may be more of a badge of honor in that case than a scarlet letter.