Naked Three Year Olds...

On one summer evening almost 19 years ago, Candace and I sat on the floor of our bathroom watching our then two and three year old daughter and son engage in their evening bath. Although the day had been filled with joyful play, both of them found reason to celebrate another opportunity to laugh and squeal and enjoy the beauty of God’s creation. Aidan took the lead by teaching his sister how to propel her body back and forth along the length of the bathtub as though it was a great waterside, all the while forcing waves of water to cascade over the top of the tub and to the floor. Michaela followed suit, eyes wide, with her giggles grunting out of her with all the beauty of a young Lady Godiva.
Other games followed, more water was splashed, more squeals of laughter commenced, and more life was lived out in front of the eyes of my children’s parents. Candace and I smiled and rejoiced at the beauty before us, and the blessing of seeing two beautiful, unique individuals who came through us enjoying life unabashedly the way it was intended to be enjoyed... with joy.
As the prune-like wrinkles formed more deeply upon the fingertips of my children, we knew it was time to drain the tub and move toward the next step of the nightly ritual... Pajamas. As I opened the drain to the tub, our little ones savored each last drop of water and of time, slipping and sliding, this way and that, capitalizing upon each sud as though it might be the last the world would ever know. Splish! Splash! Squeal!
When the last drop of usable water was squeezed out of bath time fun, I lived Aidan out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel before placing him next to me to dry. I reached in for Michaela and turned to place her next to her brother, but he was no longer there. In his place, there was only an empty towel. I put Michaela down and stepped out of the bathroom just in time to see a glimpse of my son’s naked backside streaking down the hallway and out the front door to the yard, whooping and yelling in joyful triumph. As I gave chase, Michaela once again followed her brother’s lead, heading out the door behind me squealing and giggling her delight. Candace came out to the lawn to see the frolicking spectacle continue to unfold; her babies celebrating their nakedness without shame, without judgement, and with joyful innocence.
After we corralled them back into the house and cleaned them up once again, we completed the pre-bedtime rituals of pajamas and teeth, with giggles and mirth interlaced with the nightly routine. Because they shared a bedroom, Candace and I were able to tuck them in at the same time. A beautiful experience for a family to have together...
Afterward, Candace and I sat in the living room to watch some mindless television. We shared a few words about how fun the earlier events were to witness, and then Candace said something that would impact my relationship with God and my interpretation of certain passages of Scripture to this day, and for the rest of my life, to be sure.
Stay tuned....

The Dog Days of Winter

I do not know what secrets were shared between my oldest daughter and our mongrel chocolate lab on the morning Michaela packed up and headed back to college, but it is clear to those of us who remain in Seattle that an understanding, of sorts, has been reached.  
During the winter break, Breve has enjoyed having her girl home from afar... When Michaela was gone from the house, our faithful friend would sit by the front door, watching for her return.  At night, she would camp outside of Michaela's bedroom until the morning sun rose behind the gray clouds, and then she would venture into the carpeted forbidden zone to coax and call Michaela to rise and play.  The young puppy seemed to return, and with her came all her toys, which she would get out and place in front of my daughter's door.  The dog-universe seemed to be back in order.
As I said at the beginning, I do not know the words the two exchanged, but they certainly took root.  When Michaela went away last Fall, Breve slunk down into a mini-depression of sorts.  She moped this way and that, only coming alive when her dish was rattled or a chance squirrel or neighborhood cat wandered into the yard. The two of them fit each other like a hand in a well-worn glove; warm and comfortable. After this goodbye, it seems she is content with the knowledge her girl has gone away for a few more months to chase her dreams and take her classes before they reunite again in the Spring, and Michaela returns to tell her stories of adventure in the heartland.
In the mean time, it seems I am Breve’s surrogate buddy. Her gentle brown eyes sparkle as she runs off to her pile of toys to select a game we can both play together. Today, she begged a tagalong ride as I delivered my younger daughter to ballet class. Window down, ears flapping, nose a’sniffing, she appeared to be in olfactory heaven. Upon returning home, she wagged her way to the front door and back to her rug; mission accomplished.
I wish I could communicate with Breve on a deeper level, and have words and ideas to go with her gentle expressions. Maybe we’d talk about another brown-eyed girl, and how much we love her...

The Earth is the Lord's (Pt. 2)

The Apostle Paul (about 1000 years after David) spoke to the Roman Christians about the general consequences of the theological Fall of mankind. “For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. 22 Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools 23 and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like mortal man and birds and animals and reptiles.
Therefore God gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading of their bodies with one another. 25 They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen.” ~Romans 1:21-25

In short, in our rejection of God, we embraced everything else but God. Even our good deeds can become all about us or the good feelings we have when we help others, instead of being rooted in and centered around God, His goodness, His love, and our response ability. And yes, I believe we all have a response-ability wired into us... an ability to embrace or reject, to glorify God or ourselves...