Living Hazzardously

Little pieces of our journey with Jesus

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Grand babies, Gods gift to us…

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In memory of all the grandparents taht have gone on before us:

Jess and I made a quick trip to the cities yesterday, we saw our son, his wife and the sweetest little grand daughter… on the way home I was able to connect with my brother and we had a spot of dinner together… That’s what I call a great day… Family!

Why do we feel this deep connection with a person we only met 6 months ago? How can my heart melt so quickly for a little girl whom I have seen so few times? 

I think it must be the gift that God gives his children, GRANPARENTHOOD. How can we understand God’s love for us if we never become grandparents? How can we truly understand God’s love for us? Well, obviously… WE CANT… But through becoming a grandparent, we can start to understand.

I believe there is a type of love that is even deeper, the love that God feels for us!

What did this little girl do to earn my love? What will she become that can make me love her more? That answer is clear… NOTHING! But can she grow up and turn away from Grandpa? The answer to that is painfully yes… I hope to never experience that but I also know it can and does happen, sometimes it’s our fault, and sometimes not. With our relationship with God,  it’s never God’s fault, only our own.

Grandpa cant fully understand the Love of God… And even though Grandpa can’t fully understand, he can get an idea of what that love is really like.  Now, let’s put that into play:

God loves us so much that he promised to buy us a pony… no wait, sorry, that’s me as a grandpa… God loved us so much that he sacrificed himself to remedy our rejection of himself. That we may have an eternal gift that we could not earn, we can not maintain, and we can not destroy. Its an indestructable Gift, a gift we can reject.

My love for my granddaughter is something I can’t explain. In fact, I have that love for 4 little people. I can’t describe it in a reasonable way but I can tell you it is nothing in comparison to the love of God for his children.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life, it’s a good day to meet God and see how much he loves you. 

The sun is strong in the western sky at night, before the cold and dark sets in and chillls our bones. But today the sun rose in the east marking a beautiful new day that we can come to the Lord our God and say… Here I am God, please show me the sunrise as a reminder of your goodness and let me get to know you today. 

Feeling blessed to have these wonderful grands in our life, C.

Bits and Pieces

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Its no secret that I deal with a great deal of childhood trauma. Although I was formed in a life of trauma, trauma doesnt defining who I have become. Nowadays, I try to recognize how I may help others. Others that have had the same or similar type of experiences… I try to meet them on the journey of life, so that we may both find success in spite of our pasts. 

It seems like every so often I am reminded of a memory of yet another “something” I endured as a child. This weeks memory was… Looking back on the days of living in a rat infested home on the Northside of Minneapolis… some of the ways my father “euthanized” these creatures… I had blocked it out for years, but it came back to me the other day, the smell, sights and sounds is not something I want to publish in a public blog, sedistic, cruel and not humane, just torture! Not something I choose to remember but rather an event I wished I had never been around for. 

I talk to my younger brother and talk through the details from time to time, just to remember the details of our troubled past. This helps to clarify it wasn’t just “some kid, making stuff up in his head”…realizing what I had seen, heard, smelled and felt, this is somehow freeing…. And in other ways its damning…. My past what made me who I am but it is not the essence of who I am.

As I sat at Sam’s Place the other day, having a spot of lunch. I was talking to a couple of our guys, one of them triggered this memory from my childhood… Later I confirmed with my brother the experience we had as small boys growing up in the house of horrors… If it had just been rats, I suppose I could have overlooked it easier. But the cats, so many cats and the way he did it… and what he did to my poor little pup, “Tobias winslow the third” (the picture is not my pup, but looks just like him)

A bedlington terrier and poodle mix. I sat for hours with himgrowing up, we just hung out… but I couldn’t take him with in my later teens life of rebellion when I moved into the phase of life called “the couch days”

My pup was a super sweet fella, he was always happy to see me when ever I could get back home, but then there was the last time I came home to be greeted by the fuzzy little guy… I found him blocked into his dog house with a piece of plywood, mom said he had been block in for days, in the summer heat. I  ripped the dog house open to find my pup alive but looking like he should not be living… infections had invaded his skin, he was covered in poo but he was still my buddy, the only “person” that was always happy to see me… I cried. For hours I cried. How could this be that my little gray pup would be treated this way… and I felt the guilt from not being there to protect him from the man that abused or took advantage of every creature in his world. 

This is not where I want to leave the story, there is redemption and  victory. My father was filled with pride, but even he became humble in his last days, as he faced the inevitable call of the timeless outcome…. we must all one day see face to face… Death visited my pup as an act of mercy, I saw the most beautiful creature of my life abused, neglected and it was my fault for not being there when he needed me, my loyal, little, fuzzy grey pup… 

These events have shaped my life, not dictated my path, I may have experienced these events as a child but as a man I can choose to rise above them and see the pain others are in. I want to meet others and let them know its not who they are, it doesnt need to define them… there is victory if you truely want to find it, it just looks different, but it only comes from Jesus. 

So what is my message today?

No more victims, today I only see the victor in you. 

 Its simple…but so difficult. I believe there is Victory in Jesus, not because I choose to have victory but rather I surender my victimhood to Jesus and he nailed it to the cross! So that I may take part in his Victory! You can too. 

Each day, start with being a victor over something, even if its just getting out of bed… GET UP! Feel that? Its victory! Now lets work on making your bed, even if its just putting the bed spread over the messy sheet, you can do it, do it every day and claim that as your victory until its becomes a normal part of life. Maybe a month, or even longer, now take that next step, put the pillow straight. Maybe the sheet is next? Find victory in something, anything! One step at a time, you got this… I believe in you even if you dont. Keep stepping, dont give up! So what, you didnt succeed at your goal today, but what did you succeeed in dong? Lets focus on that instead! There you go, step up tomorrow. Keep going, even if its something small, be intentional, DO IT!

This my friend is how you can beat it, with Jesus all things are not just possible, they are worth it. 

God Bless my friend, you got this, C.

Victor not Victim

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Jess and I headed out the ⅛ mile driveway, Al slipped into the morning routine and started “bopping his head” to the sounds in his headphones, Groot settled down in the back of the car in his normal fashion… we turn right, accelerate, brake, accelerate, brake then turn left. As we turn left we brace for the impact with the “barrier”… we collide, head on! Three days a week or more, same drill. We don’t feel the barrier physically, but more like the music dies in Al’s headphones, the little “spinner” on the phones start to dance the standard processes and we are no longer connected with the world. 

Somedays I feel like we are living in the movie “Maze Runner”…

The gates open, we are well prepared, and we start running the maze of roads, mapping out until…   We can no longer map anything. Returning home before the gates close, locking us out in the maze overnight. We made it and there is no need to face the real terrors and fears of the world. 

I love living in a world where I can escape the constant “connection”… The monitoring. The always “knowing” phone. Listening, adjusting, changing my personal algorytm… Our advertisements! What Jess and I had just been talking about “the dogs need their shots” turns into getting ads about spending our money on the “best care for your fur babies”. If you are like me, I find great JOY in the quiet things, the calm of the trees, standing alone in the forest. The flowing waters that gurgle against the battle of cold snow and forming ice… robbing momentum from the waters relentless desire to reach the ocean. The waters never stop and reflect on how they are are “VICTIMS” of circumstance. The waters never call for the government to provide de-icing chemicals… its almost like the waters know they shoud never quit, never give up, victory is coming.

Even the distant buzz of the loggers working to provide the ever thirsty lumber mill industry with exactly what they need to continue the quest of construction. After hundreds of years, and still making timber into sticks, trees into pulp.

I seek victory! I seldom have a victim mentality but so often, I find myself in the constant battle of explaining “victims are self made”… I’m not saying that every situation doesn’t produce a victim, but if you wake up, and don’t make your bed, don’t watch the sun rise, dont find joy…. Well, its that much harder to find victory in the remaining hours of life. I don’t believe I am controlled by my emotions but rather God has given me the power to control my emotions. And if I have power to control my emotions, then it must be a decision to wake up knowing once again, I am the “victor”… so I choose to be victorious, even if all I do is make my bed, drink my coffee and see the sun rise from obscurity to magnificence. I can be a Victor in something, so can you!

I wake up, enjoy a half hour of calm, wait for the coffee to brew, sit down and listen to the sounds of my heart beat, the creaks of the house, the breathing of my dogs and the cool wind beating against the eves…. At ¼ past the hour, I rise to my feet and retrieve my loving bride, make the bed, start turning on the lights and settle back down for a bit of screentime while it’s still calm… 

The day starts to break again…

It’s not always easy to have a victor’s mentality, it’s not always easy to remember God’s goodness, its not always easy to remember I deserve so much less… Some days I struggle, and to be honest, I struggle much more often than I should. But knowing God chose me, and that I am not able to bring anything to God that is worthy of his goodness, well, that reminds me… I am wonderfully and fearfully made in the image of my GOD….. when I remember the fathers voice, I again turn to the victory, I put off the victim and realize everything good in my life is not my own doing but rather the gift of the one who is always providing those things I need. 

Victory is a decision to see the gifts I have been given, victimhood is oppression to “always feeling like I deserve better”… that destroys my joy…. Holding on to the good things, letting go of the bad things, choosing to be a VICTOR is choosing freedom and finding joy. 

Good Bless C.