Life with a Son
Ah, life with a son. Last Friday I took the family in our pickup to see ETCA and Haleigh play their volleyball game in Longview. As soon as I got in, I knew something was wrong. It smelled like an animal had died in there. I started imagining some possum two weeks before, climbing in when the kids left the window down, getting stuck behind the back seat, and choking to death. Now his carcass was about to prove my undoing.
No matter how hard we tried, we could never find the dead possum. Saturday, the smell was worse. Finally, Saturday afternoon, I was taking Annie to a birthday party. I took her out to the pick up, and remembered that I had left something inside. When I returned, Annie told me she had discovered the source of our misery.
“What was it?” I asked. She pointed to the driveway. On the pavement was an article of clothing, opaque in color.
“What is that?” I asked.
“That’s Timothy’s underwear. I found it under the seat.”
Although I don’t even want to know how it got there, I suspect that one day he was changing clothes and, well, stuck it under the seat for safe keeping. Have you ever seen one those hooks that animal control personnel use to do their job? That is what I wanted to pickupTimothy’s discard. I did grab some paper towels—I avoid touching radioactive material—and drop the drawers in the laundry room. I probably should have just buried them.
Sure enough, inside the pick up, life became livable again. In summary, that was the most foul smell I remember since, well, since I was in college. I left a duck I had killed inside my hunting vest, which I hung in my mother’s hall closet. But that was different. Besides, if mom didn’t like it, she can write that story in her own blog.
No matter how hard we tried, we could never find the dead possum. Saturday, the smell was worse. Finally, Saturday afternoon, I was taking Annie to a birthday party. I took her out to the pick up, and remembered that I had left something inside. When I returned, Annie told me she had discovered the source of our misery.
“What was it?” I asked. She pointed to the driveway. On the pavement was an article of clothing, opaque in color.
“What is that?” I asked.
“That’s Timothy’s underwear. I found it under the seat.”
Although I don’t even want to know how it got there, I suspect that one day he was changing clothes and, well, stuck it under the seat for safe keeping. Have you ever seen one those hooks that animal control personnel use to do their job? That is what I wanted to pickupTimothy’s discard. I did grab some paper towels—I avoid touching radioactive material—and drop the drawers in the laundry room. I probably should have just buried them.
Sure enough, inside the pick up, life became livable again. In summary, that was the most foul smell I remember since, well, since I was in college. I left a duck I had killed inside my hunting vest, which I hung in my mother’s hall closet. But that was different. Besides, if mom didn’t like it, she can write that story in her own blog.
Upwards Football
Of the three of you who read this, I want to ask a favor. Don’t mention this football story to Timothy. I don’t want him to get a complex. The underwear story is fine, not the Upwards Flag Football story.
(You might be wondering what I plan on doing when Timothy is in high school, since this blog could very well still be out there in Cyberspace. I have a plan. I will give my then teen-aged son my blogs and tell him I really want him to read them so we can discuss them. That will kill any chance of him reading this.)
Saturday morning was Timothy’s first Upwards Flag Football game. Upwards, if you don’t know, is an outstanding program where children are coached in sports from a Christian perspective. It is a nice way to introduce kids to the game in an encouraging environment.
Timothy’s team is the Badgers. They are 6-8 years old, Timothy being one of the younger boys at age 6. Last Saturday morning, they played at 9:00 A. M. The boys played different positions, both on offense and defense, and each received about the same amount of playing time.
When it was Timothy’s turn to play running back, he got the ball on a hand-off and headed to the right sideline. Now, Timothy, unlike me, is pretty fast. He is outrunning the defense and now he is heading down the right sideline. All of us who are spectators are thinking he is going to score. Then, from the opponents’ point of view, I’m sure miraculously, Timothy suddenly turns at a right angle to his right and heads out of bounds—and keeps on running! The ref blew the whistle—and Timothy kept on running. The closest defender was taking an angle across the field—and he was twenty yards away.
Judy, the girls, and I burst out laughing. We could not resist. Being the father, I did feel some responsibility to the coach, though. To save face, I hollered, “Timothy, the million dollar contract is years away. You don’t have to worry about saving your body yet.” He got a couple of more carries in the game. The last one, he headed right and everything looked promising. Then, he did an about-face, retraced his route backwards, and outran the defense headed down the left sideline, before he was finally forced out of bounds.
I don’t want to leave you with the impression that we are not making progress. A year and a half ago, Timothy celebrated his birthday (January 8) in the spring because he wanted to have a football party when his friends could come. We live about a couple of blocks from the football field, so after cake and presents, I and some adult friends and parents took the boys down there for an organized game. At least, we thought it would be organized.
Timothy’s team had the ball first. On the first snap, one of his teammates took the ball and started running. Timothy tackled him! His own man. That set the tone for the day. I think the boys just wanted to wrestle.
Anyway, the season has started. Stay tuned!
(You might be wondering what I plan on doing when Timothy is in high school, since this blog could very well still be out there in Cyberspace. I have a plan. I will give my then teen-aged son my blogs and tell him I really want him to read them so we can discuss them. That will kill any chance of him reading this.)
Saturday morning was Timothy’s first Upwards Flag Football game. Upwards, if you don’t know, is an outstanding program where children are coached in sports from a Christian perspective. It is a nice way to introduce kids to the game in an encouraging environment.
Timothy’s team is the Badgers. They are 6-8 years old, Timothy being one of the younger boys at age 6. Last Saturday morning, they played at 9:00 A. M. The boys played different positions, both on offense and defense, and each received about the same amount of playing time.
When it was Timothy’s turn to play running back, he got the ball on a hand-off and headed to the right sideline. Now, Timothy, unlike me, is pretty fast. He is outrunning the defense and now he is heading down the right sideline. All of us who are spectators are thinking he is going to score. Then, from the opponents’ point of view, I’m sure miraculously, Timothy suddenly turns at a right angle to his right and heads out of bounds—and keeps on running! The ref blew the whistle—and Timothy kept on running. The closest defender was taking an angle across the field—and he was twenty yards away.
Judy, the girls, and I burst out laughing. We could not resist. Being the father, I did feel some responsibility to the coach, though. To save face, I hollered, “Timothy, the million dollar contract is years away. You don’t have to worry about saving your body yet.” He got a couple of more carries in the game. The last one, he headed right and everything looked promising. Then, he did an about-face, retraced his route backwards, and outran the defense headed down the left sideline, before he was finally forced out of bounds.
I don’t want to leave you with the impression that we are not making progress. A year and a half ago, Timothy celebrated his birthday (January 8) in the spring because he wanted to have a football party when his friends could come. We live about a couple of blocks from the football field, so after cake and presents, I and some adult friends and parents took the boys down there for an organized game. At least, we thought it would be organized.
Timothy’s team had the ball first. On the first snap, one of his teammates took the ball and started running. Timothy tackled him! His own man. That set the tone for the day. I think the boys just wanted to wrestle.
Anyway, the season has started. Stay tuned!
Dialogue versus Discussion
THE FIFTH DISCIPLINE is probably the best business book I have ever read. Written by Peter Senge, he addresses business challenges in unique, fresh ways. Although a few years old, the book is not outdated; it also speaks to a broader audience, including churches.
I believe Senge’s approach to organizational communication is innovative and spiritually healthy. Senge’s methodology draws from, believe it or not, physics. For example, in his 1965 book, THE SPECIAL THEORY OF RELATIVITY, David Bohm writes that there are two main ways of discourse: dialogue and discussion.
Discussion has the same root word as percussion and concussion. The idea in discussion is sending information back and forth, like hitting a ball in a game of tennis. The object is to win—to have the other person or group accept your beliefs.
Dialogue is different. Dialogue comes from the ancient Greek concepts of dia meaning “through” and logos meaning “word;” the gist of ideas are transmitted between two people or two groups, etc. In dialogue, the goal is not to win; the goal is to gain insight.
Dialogue is more dispassionate. All participants become observers, including observers to their own thinking. Hence, each person truly gains insight.
I have found when these principles are practiced, everyone wins. I have approached moments of communication, and left on a negative note, as typically did the other participants. I have partaken in dialogues, even dialogues where disagreements were freely expressed, and, along with all others involved, departed with positive and good feelings that lay the groundwork for effective action.
I hope in the future, we, church members, will have fewer discussions and more dialogue.
I believe Senge’s approach to organizational communication is innovative and spiritually healthy. Senge’s methodology draws from, believe it or not, physics. For example, in his 1965 book, THE SPECIAL THEORY OF RELATIVITY, David Bohm writes that there are two main ways of discourse: dialogue and discussion.
Discussion has the same root word as percussion and concussion. The idea in discussion is sending information back and forth, like hitting a ball in a game of tennis. The object is to win—to have the other person or group accept your beliefs.
Dialogue is different. Dialogue comes from the ancient Greek concepts of dia meaning “through” and logos meaning “word;” the gist of ideas are transmitted between two people or two groups, etc. In dialogue, the goal is not to win; the goal is to gain insight.
Dialogue is more dispassionate. All participants become observers, including observers to their own thinking. Hence, each person truly gains insight.
I have found when these principles are practiced, everyone wins. I have approached moments of communication, and left on a negative note, as typically did the other participants. I have partaken in dialogues, even dialogues where disagreements were freely expressed, and, along with all others involved, departed with positive and good feelings that lay the groundwork for effective action.
I hope in the future, we, church members, will have fewer discussions and more dialogue.
Five things I think I think (a tip of the hat to Peter King for this idea)
1. Congratulations to coach Dana Wade and the ETCA junior high girls’ volleyball team. They won district this week in the tournament, in what I would consider to be, a stunning upset.
2. Excuse me as a proud dad offers a shout-out to his middle daughter, Abby, who was a member of the ETCA championship team. Abby had to overcome a number of challenges, but she endured and played extremely well in the tourney.
3. I am ready to rank the seasons: 1. Summer (more rest) 2. Winter (cold weather, Christmas and the New Year) 3. Autumn (Thanksgiving and football) 4. Spring. Having said that, I do really enjoy fall leaves and football.
4. I can’t wait to see the cantilever Travis Gilbreath is making for my Sunday sermon.
5. I arose at 5:00 A. M. five of the six days this week. Admittedly, this is because I set my alarm. I went to bed by at least 11:00 every night this week—sometimes, by 10:00. This may be a new personal record.
2. Excuse me as a proud dad offers a shout-out to his middle daughter, Abby, who was a member of the ETCA championship team. Abby had to overcome a number of challenges, but she endured and played extremely well in the tourney.
3. I am ready to rank the seasons: 1. Summer (more rest) 2. Winter (cold weather, Christmas and the New Year) 3. Autumn (Thanksgiving and football) 4. Spring. Having said that, I do really enjoy fall leaves and football.
4. I can’t wait to see the cantilever Travis Gilbreath is making for my Sunday sermon.
5. I arose at 5:00 A. M. five of the six days this week. Admittedly, this is because I set my alarm. I went to bed by at least 11:00 every night this week—sometimes, by 10:00. This may be a new personal record.
1 comment:
you did pretty well especially the first one that made me and Cecilia laugh until we fell out of our seats. Keep up the good work WIlliam
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