In Her Presence

One of the most difficult things in life, for me, is being separated from my daughter, but because of divorce, this reality has become inevitable. I hate the fact that I made a decision in life that has caused such anguish and pain, to many people, but life goes on and I have learned to make the most of it.

Ava's mother and I have tried really hard to now make every encounter we have a good one, because Ava's well being is the most important issue for both of us and we believe that in doing this it will be really good for our daughter. Well, in doing this I believe that Ava's time with daddy is very important, as does her mother.

Ava and I see each other every other weekend and I get a date night once a week, with my little angel... this is the single most anticipated event in my whole week! I thoroughly enjoy picking up my daughter and taking her out to a park, or Chick-fil-A, or the Mall, or a playground, or to a movie or even the library. You know the feeling you get when you wake up on your birthday morning and you know that this day has something special in store for you or Christmas Eve when you know that in the morning you're going to wake up and something amazing is going to happen? Well, that is how I feel whenever I get up in the morning on the day that I am going to pick Ava up for our date night. Okay, so I had to share all of that so that you could understand the reason that I was so disappointed when one day I picked my little darling up and got her in the Jeep and drove about a block away to look back with a grin on my face and pop the BIG question to her, "hey baby, you ready to have some fun?" and find her completely asleep! I was irate!

I was completely irritated at the fact that Ava's mother could have given her a nap before I picked her up, so that when I got her she was ready for a ton of fun with her daddy! I was beside myself! I didn't know what to think or say! I wanted to call and just yell, but I didn't, because that wouldn't be good for Ava. So, I just drove around. I would occasionally look back hoping to find her grinning back at me in great expectation of something fun, but that didn't happen. The entire time that I was allotted was spent in the presence of a sleeping child. So, when my time was up, I simply took her back to her mother and said, "well, she should be ready to play when she gets home, because she had a great nap." There wasn't any yelling or rude comments, and Ava's mommy even apologized for not putting her down, but there was still this feeling of sadness. I hopped into my Jeep and drove back home.

On my drive back home I started talking to God and asking him if I was justified in my feelings but didn't quite get the response I was wanting. All I heard (not audibly, but in a still place in my heart) was, "you were in her presence weren't you?" I tossed and turned on that one for a while, until I realized... this time isn't about me... its about Ava! All I wanted to really do is be in my daughters presence. I felt an urge of satisfaction! I have forgotten exactly when this day was, but things have been different ever since.

No matter what we do, I find complete satisfaction just being in her presence. Tonight, I picked my daughter up and we went to the park and then she slept for about 2 hours and then I took her to McDonald's to eat and then watched her play in the playground... Total satisfaction! I love just being in her presence! I don't care if she sleeps the entire time, if she plays with friends, if she reads books in the library, if she plays in a playground or runs around a park, I just want to be in her presence, because she is my daughter and I can't get enough of her.

I remembered this story on my drive home tonight and wanted to share it with whomever would read it, because I wanted to share a simple truth... Jesus doesn't care what you do all day long, he just wants to be in your presence! He wants to hear your voice and let you hear his! He wants to touch you and be touched by you! He wants to abide in you and allow you to abide in him! He cannot get enough of you! He is completely in love with you!

We seem to make this whole relationship with Jesus a lot more complicated than it has to be, don't we? We make it about religion and religious things... what type of music do we sing to him with, do we partake of the Lord's supper weekly or yearly, does our church have pews or chairs, do we overindulge in food or alcohol (LOL)? But seriously, we sometimes get so caught up in the semantics and forget that Jesus just wants to be in our presence and he gave himself so that he could be. You see, we are sinful beings and we cannot be in the presence of perfection with one spot of sin, but because Jesus wanted to be around us so badly, he died on the cross and supernaturally resurrected from the dead. This might be hard to grasp, but WE are just that important to HIM!

He doesn't wake up to a feeling of great anticipation to be in our presence... he has it all the time!

The Water Bottle

I had the great opportunity, thanks to a great friend, to go to Albuquerque, NM for a great moment in the life of my parents. My father was asked to be the head lead pastor of the Temple Baptist Church of Albuquerque and I am so proud of him and happy for him, but that will be another blog at another time. Today's blog is going to be about a moment that happened while at my sister's house with my beautiful nephew, Aven Nordin!

I woke up earlier than I wanted to because my body was two hours ahead of the time at which I found myself now abiding by, but because I'm a morning person I was up! I got out of bed and started walking around my sister's house and looking at all the pictures capturing all the moments that I have missed living so far away. I found myself wiping a couple tears from my eyes... one for the joy I felt that my sister is now the healthy happy mother of two beautiful kids and the other sadness that I've had to miss most of her successes as mother and wife. I then found myself looking into the room of my niece only to find an empty bed. My heart skipped a couple beats and then I remembered a conversation Lavel (sister) and I had about Amri (niece) going to her bedroom and finishing up her sleep in mommy's bed... so peace came back to me... and then a sense of curiosity! "What is that wonderful little bundle of boy doing this early in the morning?" I thought, as I approached his bedroom door. Yup, just what I thought I would find... Aven was in his bed awake looking at the door anticipating the moment mommy or daddy would open it to release him back into the world of curiosity and wonder! He and I connected eyes, so I felt compelled to take him out, change his diaper and then take him back to my room and spend some time together... so I did!

Aven began his baby tendency of searching for things to explore in the great big world that he found himself in. The first finding was a water bottle with about three adult swigs left in it. He started fondling the bottle and then squeezed it. He lifted it up in the air and put it on the pillow. He tried throwing it and then pursued it again. I found myself just amazed at how Aven could be so entertained and focused on this water bottle. Then came the fixation with the lid that captured this liquid... now, getting this thing off! LOL! He fought the fight and seemed to be understanding the process that it would be to take this lid off of this bottle. After about five minutes of allowing him to struggle and toil I opened the bottle and allowed him to take a drink (with me holding the bottle). This was an amazing experience and he wanted to do it again and again and again and then he wanted to do it on his own. Now, at this point I was given the choice... do I allow him the freedom to hold the water bottle and experience the responsibility of having this liquid at his grasps to do whatever he chooses or do I continue to hold it and keep this little fellow from exploring any further. Hmm... well, being that I am uncle and not mommy, I wanted him to continue... so I released my hands from the container. In less than 10 seconds the water ended up all over Avens chest, pants and a small radius of surrounding area on the bed.

It was in this moment that I thought about the first time I was given the new freedom of a job and then all the responsibility that came with that job and getting my first car and the freedom and responsibility this brown Datsun offered me! Can you remember the new freedoms that you were given and then the responsibilities that came with it? Wow, the freedom of dating, but the responsibility of remaining a gentleman and a lady and remaining pure! Or how about that first job, the freedom to make money, but the responsibility of doing what you need to do to make this business an outstanding business. It is so awesome... until the spill happens! OH NO! Right when I thought I had it all under control I found myself getting that first ticket for speeding or that write up for inappropriate work ethics or the break up because you crossed a boundary. In life we are given freedoms and the responsibilities that go with them. Isn't it wonderful to have this capability? Because of this we can love, we can obey, we can honor, we can worship, we can do so much! Because if we are not given the freedom to choose nor the responsibilities to learn then we would all be puppets... and we are definately not that! I love that I can learn from my mistakes and that I get more freedom when I show that I can handle the responsibilities. But then on the other hand, when I can't handle all the responsibilities I experience the set-back and freedom is taken from me. Like when I lied to my mother about finding those quarters on the ground on my way to the corner gas station when really I had stolen them off of her counter before I left so I could get something extra... Hmm... It was a while before I was allowed to go again.

Can you expand on this blog? What are other freedoms and responsibilities that we get with them? And what was a time you thrived or fell when given freedom?

Oh, and btw... I finished up the water and Aven got up to continued his exploration of the next new freedom he would encounter!

Hi Daddy!

Every week I get to pick my daughter, Ava, up from her mother's house and take her on a date. This is the highlight of my week for several reasons, but lately its because I get to watch her interact with the world around her, sometimes for the first time. In her explorations I get to be a witness of the new... all over again!

This week we went to a park to start our time out, then we ate together at Chick-fil-a and then we took a long walk together. On this specific day Ava wanted me to watch from afar and she would constantly say, "hi daddy!" and expect a response like, "hi Ava!" We played this game a lot... I think it was her way of making sure I was watching her every move. She wanted me to be far enough for her to be independent, but close enough to hear my voice.  Ava would climb up the stairs and say, "hi daddy!" and I would reply, "hi Ava!" and then she would go through the tunnel which led to the slide and she would say, "hi daddy!" and I would say, "hi Ava!" She would stand up and play with the steering wheel and say, "hi daddy!" and of course I would say, "hi Ava!" Then she would get ready to go down the slide and she'd say, "hi daddy!" and like the good listener I was becoming I would retort, "hi Ava!" then she would slide down and with a full smile and huge eyes beaming with joy say, "more, daddy, more, daddy!" and run to the stairs only to repeat the same exercise. I loved watching and participating in this beautiful medley of experience. When she was finished she simply said, "all done daddy, all done," and walk toward the Jeep. I took that as my cue to get up and follow. It was now time for "num nums daddy, num nums."

We then drove to Chick-fil-a to eat and play in their 3years and under play area. Ava ate all her chicken and most of her potato waffles and all of her juice and was ready to play. So with great anticipation and excitement we entered the play area and she was off! No more than two to three minutes into the play and I hear, "hi daddy!" and sure enough I respond with, "hi Ava!" and so it continues. As the play continues and the call and response goes on, more kids enter the play area and the voice of my daughter becomes faint. One, two, three, four, five, six and seven kids now fill this small area and begin to play loudly. Kids are yelling and screaming and sliding and climbing and parents are correcting, "Brittany, stop screaming!" and then another parent yells out, "Bobby, be nice to the other kids, stop making faces that scare the other kids." My eyes are quicker than before looking for Ava so that I can hear her voice cry out, "hi daddy!" But when I find her I notice that she isn't calling out to me anymore... she too is yelling, laughing, screaming, sliding, climbing and playing loud (now, originally I was going to make this blog about learning how to play, because that is something that I truly believe we need to learn how to do as we get older, but I changed my mind). Ava continued to have fun with the other kids and I would watch her so that if she called out, "hi daddy!" I could assure her that I was here. She never did!

Ava continued playing with the other kids and then something happened... she stopped playing and froze. Her feet stopped moving and I stared right at her in hopes that she would call out to me, but instead she started climbing down the stairs as others moved at a fast pace up. Her face wasn't one of pure fun and joy, but of focus and purpose. She made it all the way down and then caught my eyes and slowly cracked a smile. She put both feet on the floor and walked over to me and slowly turned around and moved into me backwards. I put my arms around her, picked her up and put her on my lap and said, "did you have fun Ava?" She looked at me and in a soft voice said, "hi daddy!" Everything inside me wanted to cry, but instead I smiled and said, "hi baby girl!"

As I drove home that evening I thought about this experience and just thanked God for always being there listening for me to call out, "hi daddy!" And then I just lost it and wept... Hi Daddy!

The color grey

The other day I was sitting with a student in his art class, we'll call him Robert. The art teacher comes up to him and places a bowl of water and a row of water colors and a brush. If you have ever messed around with water colors you will know that these things are so much fun! They are beautiful when they are all separated and even more beautiful when put on paper in the form of a picture. I don't remember ever really bringing forth anything of beauty using water colors, but I've seen some pretty amazing pictures done in this form of art. So, Robert, who has autism, just looks at this blank piece of paper and then the colors and then water and does nothing. So, I take the brush out of the water and place it in the first color, which is purple, and then hand-over-hand we brush the blank piece of paper. Again, we take the brush to the water, the next color and then the paper and once again, another beautiful color! This continues until all eight of the colors were used. The painting looks pretty normal, kind of like a splattered rainbow. Then the brush is fully handed over to Robert and he dips it into the water and then a color (I think it was orange) and then he painted over the other colors. Now, to me this just messed things up... it was no longer this pretty display of colors, now there was the streak across the top of them. Then he did it again and again and again and continued mixing all the colors until the picture was this horrible color... a darkish grey!

Then I started thinking about this picture of grey and started thinking about my life and the choices I've made. I remember when my choices painted this really beautiful picture, so beautiful that most people commented on how wonderful it was. I heard from my father, "Dan, (BTW, there are only two people who can call me Dan and both of their name's are Fred) I'm so proud of you." From other people I heard, "you are such a great leader... keep it up." And even from others I heard, "you are such a good role model." The list was long and the painting was just beautiful. Then something happened... I made a decision that didn't quite go with the painting, in fact it didn't belong! It was a streak across the top. It didn't look too bad and it was kind of faint, but I knew it was there. As time went on I started making more choices that conflicted with what the painting was supposed to be and the colors began to mix and without really knowing what was happening I woke up to a very grey picture of life! In hind site I know exactly what happened, but in that moment I just saw grey.

The pride of life, the haughty eyes and the lust of the flesh took over my life and instead of rejecting these things I slowly added them to my picture. God gave me this wonderful canvas of life and instead of using his colors I mixed it with the colors of sin. My painting became so confusing and so grey that I didn't know what was truth and what was a lie. I was angry, afraid, lost and totally selfish and the only way I knew how to fix it was to put more colors on and the more I did the worse the painting got.

Then I thought about a few lines from a song a philosopher of our day, Dave Matthews, wrote called Grey Street which explains this moment in life. Dave wrote...

--

There’s an emptiness inside her

And she’d do anything to fill it in

And though it’s red blood bleeding from her now

It’s more like cold blue ice in her heart

She feels like kicking out all the windows

And setting fire to this life

She could change everything about her using colors bold and bright

But all the colors mix together - to grey

--

So there I am with this painting all faded to grey and one of my favorite songs by Jars of Clay comes to mind, which says...

--

It's not hard to know what you're thinking

When you look down on me now

Your trance of love is seeking

To turn this world around

But in my state of blind confusion

No God can pull me out

I see your love is willing

To turn me inside out

And then I see you there

The lonely tears I cry

I wish they'd release me

It's in despair that I find faith

Summon the night to bow down to day

When ignorance is bliss

Save me from myself

And then I see You there

With Your arms open wide and You try to embrace me

These lonely tears I cry

They keep me in chains and I wish they'd release me

Cold is the night but

Colder still is the heart made of stone, turned from clay

And if you follow me

You'll see all the black, all the white fade to grey

Fade to grey

Fade to grey

--

And then I thanked the Lord for what happened next... the teacher walked over to Robert and placed a clean, spotless, non-jaded canvas in front of him

That Last Breath Underwater

I do not like the beach! I don't enjoy indoor pools! I don't even like hotel pools! But, if given a non-peed-in, open to the sun, private pool to swim in I would do it! I would totally throw on my hardly-ever-used swimming trunks and tighten the draw-string and not only jump, but would cannon-ball jump into the pool! I would totally enjoy that intimate time with me and the sun (well, that is not all true, if Ava was with me I would be totally up for swimming with her). Anyway, I remember when I was younger I really enjoyed the pool... a lot! I remember swimming with my brother and sisters and we would play that very famous and even trendy game "Marco, Polo"! We would say, "Marco" and the rest of us would get all giddy and nervous and quietly say, "Polo". If you've never played this game the best way I can explain it is to say it is a game of tag where the person who is "it" must close his/her eyes and try to find at least one other person. The way this person found others was for that person to say, "Marco" and all the other participants were forced to say, "Polo". Then there was the weighing in the pool to attempt the blind search for someone to take his/her spot as the "it". (note: I still have no clue to why we had to yell out those two names... anyone?) Anyway, that was one game we played in the pool. Then there was the water aerobics to no music... who could put on the best performance game. And then there was the game that we all wanted to win... who could hold their breath under the water the longest game!

This was my favorite game, because I could usually hold my breath longer than all of my siblings and most of my friends. This wasn't only fun to win for public glorification, but for private personal goals. I wanted to not only beat all the others, but to also set a record that no body could beat; this was in case I couldn't win one particular time I could always say, "but I do hold the record for the longest under the water." The reason I got so good at this was because I discovered the second breath! Do you know about the second breath? Okay, so envision yourself in the pool and you are getting pumped up to go under and you take a huge deep breath and hold it and then drop underwater... one, two, three, four, five, six (the time keeps ticking in your mind)... seven... eight... and so on. You begin to forget counting and focus on your breath and how hard it is getting to do so and you even open your eyes to see if someone else is faulting and making their way back to the surface for that fresh air. Nine... 10... 11... 12... Now comes the feeling that your head is going to explode, but the pride of winning outweighs that and you allow more brain cells to die (yes, this is what happens when we do things like this... probably explains a lot about my C average in college). You get through it and continue to count... 13... 14... 15... (now, in all actuality its been much longer, but because you are trying to focus on holding your breath it seems like eternity... thank goodness there was someone above water timing this with his/her new swatch watch)... 16... 17... 18... okay, now comes the hidden weapon! The second breath! I release all the air out of my body through my mouth directly toward my nose to grab an air bubble or two and get that second breath (do not try this unless you are ready to take in a lot of water your first few attempts... it is not for the weary). "Yes, everyone else is heading up and I still can make it a little longer w/o dying down here." The counting continues until I can no longer take the pressure or the lack of breath and then I use all of my leg muscles to shoot my body out of the pool into the much needed oxygen filled air (did that scientifically make sense?)! Wow, the feeling at that moment is more precious than any meal I ever ate, better than any movie I ever saw, more valuable than any relationship I had and much more needed than anything else in the world... that was the breath of life! I am alive! I am alive! But I really say, "I won!"

Have you been there, in the pool? Well, in life, we all go through times when we feel like we are underwater and we have no clue how long we can make it under there. Sometimes we are there because of poor choices we've made, and other times we're their because of poor choices someone else has made and we find ourselves getting the soak! Then there are times we just love the excitement of being under the water and know that it is slowly killing a piece of us (like the brain cells), but we jump in and see how long we can go. Other times we were thrown in and there is a weight attached to our feet and we have no clue how we are going to come out of this... right? We've all been there! I'm there right now! And then comes the last breath... the true Breath of Life! He puts just enough to get us out of the water! He gives us just enough to give our muscles the extra strength to push on the bottom to rush us to the surface where we find endless amounts of His Air! He is the air we need to breath to give us sustenance, to give us hope, to give us meaning, to give us all we need for life... but I rush back underwater hoping there is something down there that brings me meaning, hope, love and all I'm searching for.

I am underwater... being given that second breath... I wonder how long I can go? What about you?