Squinty Eyes

Dogs can be pretty expressive.  Our rescue mutt, Kobe, has quite the personality and way of showing his feelings.  He can convey when he’s hungry, which is seemingly every hour of the day, when he’s cold, when he wants to play, and when he’s ready for another nap.  He is amazingly loyal and if left alone he usually greets his family at the top of the stair with a vigorous tail wag and groans of joy.

 But there are times that he greets his family with a different expression.  Gone is the rapid tail thump, replaced by a tail “wiggle”.  Instead of standing tall at the top of the stairs he gently sits in the center of the living room.  His eyelids appear to weigh a massive amount of weight because his eyes are tiny slits in his sullen, drooping head.  It’s the opposite of an eager homecoming of joy and jubilation.  The dance of joy is replaced by the sullenness of shame.

 Kobe is not a perfect dog.  But what canine is?  He was a rescue and the term “hot mess” would be an accurate way to describe the first few months with him.  His first night at our house I found him headfirst in the trash can at 2am.  He was anxious, athletic, and energetic…which sounds wonderful as a dog for me but we ran so much together that I was doubting my own ability to keep up with this dog.  We logged many, many miles together in an effort to bond and forge a healthy relationship.

 Kobe’s first year is a mystery but judging by his response to the times he knows he messes up I’m sure there was plenty of abusive “correction” in his life.   His “squinty eyes” and body language tell that story!  The shame he feels is palpable and quite honestly, it’s debilitating.  He can’t move on until he’s talked down off the shame ledge.  He had a nervous energy when we adopted him and I’m sure it stemmed from many hours alone and the shame cast on him with his “not so endearing” actions.

 Part of dealing with a dog with a mystery past is to let them know it’s going to be ok.  We learned that it’s good to show Kobe what he did wrong but that there will be food in his bowl, a walk up the road, and a spot on our bed later.  We want him to make good decisions but those stem from him knowing, and believing, that he will always be a part of his forever family.  His actions are forgiven and he can start over without shame.  His eyes start to open and his head rises when he realizes that.  The burden of shame is heavy when you’re a rescue dog with baggage!  

 You would think that after hanging his head and squinting his eyes so many times he would stop tearing open cookie jars, flipping crock pots, and cruising counters.  But the best way to combat his behavior is not to constantly chastise him for it; it’s to not place him in the situation to begin with.   We found was that he simply wanted to be with us.  He wanted to be understood.  The feeling of separation lead to not-so-endearing behavior and that lead to shame and squinty eyes.  So Kobe has become quite the traveler.  He’s along for the ride nearly every time the key is turned in our vehicles.  The potential for shame evaporates when he spends time with his dog dad or the rest of his family.  When he’s along squinty eyes are the furthest thing from his mind.  Shame?  That’s in the rearview mirror my friend!  When he is included and part of the group he is living his best life; even if it’s just me and him on our way back from dropping the boys off at school.   The presence of a loving figure, a gentle hand of correction, and inclusion into a family has made squinty eyes far less frequent.  He’s a work in progress and we love him for that!

 Kobe is a 4-legged creature but I understand where he is coming from.  I see, and have felt, that situation of squinty eyes in our world!  There is a big burden of shame cast on all of us for a variety of reasons.    When I think about my own shame burdens it ranges from the rather silly (you drive that vehicle?!) to the heart-wrenching (you are so disappointing!).   I would think that shame has hit us all from not voting for the “right” person, supporting a popular cause, shopping at the “right” store, or curating the trendy image for all to see.   It’s even more disappointing when we feel the shame come from places we think should be helpful!  Kobe wanted to please that first owner but it never happened; thank goodness he ended up getting to us instead!  

 Through all of our eye squinting I think Kobe found something to help lift his eyelids, his head, and his spirits.  He didn’t stop his less-than-stellar behavior, at least not all at once.  But once he had that daily activity with me, and a steady diet of lovin’ from his family, he found more peace in being Kobe and not that unattainable expectation of his first owner.  

 Kobe would tell you that overcoming shame has everything to do with who you spend time with.  I think the same goes for us!  I would encourage you to let God speak to and through you.  Spend time with Him.  In that relationship we can hear our value and sense our place.    We can be understood and encouraged.  We learn, and feel, a sense of what’s good for us and what’s not.  It’s painful to recognize where we fall short but humbling to know our place is not dependent on our perfection!  When we spend time with Him we enter a love relationship where the world’s judgement is cast aside and a deep-rooted place of peace starts to grow and grow.   We can’t please all of the people all of the time, but we do gain a sense of our purpose and the peace to live in that, even among the rejection and shame cast on us by the world we live in.

 Kobe is a loveable mess.  But he’s not all that different than all of us.  May our squinty eyes be opened!

But Do You Have the Key?

We were 60 hours into our marriage when my new bride asked a simple question. “Did you bring the key?”

 You would think that the answer was “Yes” and then she would go back to looking at me longingly.  But the answer was “No” followed by “they told me where they hid the key in the receiving line” which sounded a little reassuring.  “Did you write it down?” was the next logical question to which I replied “No.”.  She did not look at me longingly!  There were a few minutes of silence as we drove through Utah, at night, towards a tiny town called Driggs, Idaho for our first night on our honeymoon travels.  So far we were living the “adventurous” side of marriage!

 I had a verbal commitment from a family friend that we could use what sounded like an amazing cabin in the Tetons.  Along with the verbal commitment came verbal directions to this magical log cabin that resided a mere 2500 miles from home.  I remember hearing the directions like I was being told how to get to the local grocery store down the street in my hometown.  I just had to apply them to a place, far, far away that I had never been to except in my imagination.  But I had confirmation, a promise, and enough directions to give me confidence that we should absolutely take the second biggest commitment in our young marriage…so we boarded a plane and headed west!

 To add to the adventure my sweet, new wife had to drive our rental car.  I was 24 and at that time technically not old enough to drive a Ford Escort.  My bridge was the older woman, she was all of 25 and legal to rent, and drive, the cheapest car we could get our hands on.   So poor Jan was at the wheel while I nervously tapped my foot on the floorboards for a few hundred miles.  Not having a key to our cabin was nothing compared to not being able to drive in my mind.

 We ended up driving two-lanes over mountain passes and through meadows and eventually ended up in valley where we spotted the first landmark to turn towards our cabin.  I was instructed to turn right at the suburban propane building.  There was no road name given because duh, theres a suburban propane building there!  As luck would have it there actually was a suburban propane building and Jan nervously took the right turn onto a dirt road.  We were immediately met with a “road closed” sign and a school bus sized pile of gravel blocking anyone thinking of honeymooning from proceeding on that road.

 A nervous laugh came from one side of the car while I quickly thought of what I could do next to find our cabin.  This was before phone GPS; before cell phones even worked in Driggs even,  and I had to rely on what I had seen on a map days before.  It’s not like a map of Driggs is burned into everyone’s brain but I had an idea of what the town looked like and how to maybe, somehow, get two newlyweds into a random cabin, on a random dirt road, in a rural town in Idaho.  We would either find it or get shot, attacked by dogs, or sleep in the car next to the gravel pile.  Maybe the suburban propane building was open?

 By this time Jan had enough of driving and I illegally slipped behind the wheel and started navigating around in the dark around Driggs.  We were married now and she was stuck with me.  But we each had a calming effect on each other and between nervous laughter there was trust.  I found the creek that was mentioned to me in my verbal directions.  I found the picket fence that was falling down next to a shared driveway.  We drove past some barking dogs and a house flipped its lights on as we drove slowly by.  Best to keep moving!  Deep in the woods we thought we saw a cabin and it fit my imaginary description of what our honeymoon cabin would be so we turned in the driveway.

 There I was with the woman I just pledge to do life with, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, with or without keys, and I was leading her into the wilds of Idaho to see if this dark cabin just so happened to be the place we would spend two weeks.  And the only way we would know if we had the right house is if we found the hidden key, let ourselves in, and looked at the family photos!  We stumbled in the dark, found a porch, prayed that no one was inside and started looking for this mystery key. 

 There was no key on the doorframe.

 But there was another beam a few feet from the door and that’s where the key was found.  That key opened the door to shelter for the night.  The next morning we woke up to find a mountain stream across the driveway, the Tetons standing guard off the porch, and crisp mountain air filling everyone’s lungs.  It was a much, much different world than the night before.

 I thought of this story the other day when I was longing to know how things would work out ahead of time.  Do you ever do that?  We are eager to go and while the sense of adventure runs high it would be a little more comforting to have hand written directions to guide us to the promised land that sounds so…promising!  Getting an abbreviated, rushed set of directions while being distracted definitely makes you nervous at a later time when you are trying to find your way to the destination!

 We can go and accept the risk of adventure or we can stay put and try to map it all out, plan it all out, and write it all out before we take a single step.  We can have analysis paralysis!  Standing still helps gather information but eventually we need to move to apply all of that information.  I can remember hearing the directions to our cabin in our receiving line and thinking it would be nice to know ALL of the steps between here and there and while that sounds responsible I also knew we just wanted to go!  The details would have to work themselves out.

 I’m all for knowing what I’m getting into.  But many times I have to take a little bit of knowledge and run with it rather than a whole lot of knowledge and be stuck with it.  If I have a little bit of knowledge I’ll move towards the key and eventually I’ll find it!  It’s worth the risk of going, even with incomplete details.  

 If you are feeling stuck I can relate.  It’s tough to move sometimes!  Is it because of incomplete details?  Do you know where you need to head and you just haven’t left yet?  Are you scared you’ll get there and not find the key?  I think my wedding story popped up because of its encouragement.  Listen intently.  Picture the destination in your mind.  Then go.  Just go.  Because the honeymoon waits for nothing!  

Normal

Quick, what was the last compliment you received?  Was it about your hair?  Your dress?  Was it a response to a social media post?  Maybe you cooked an awesome meal or said the right thing at the right time to a friend. It’s always nice to get a compliment and a little bit of recognition for you being you.

The compliment that has stuck with me lately is a little different.  I was told that I was normal.  Normal!  And while I couldn’t totally grasp how that was a compliment at first I think it’s to be embraced.  Do you feel “normal”?  Do you ever contemplate your life and think it’s pretty good…and normal?  There’s a new age where normal is extraordinarily needed!  Fame and fortune are fleeting and always have been.  There’s a need for normal and normal can absolutely be a compliment if it follows our God-given talents.

There was a Saturday circled on our calendar for a few months.  It was the day where dear friends of mine were getting married.  It’s a tremendous story and while it’s not mine to tell there were many that were downright giddy about seeing them tie the knot.  To add to the storyline my Dad was performing the ceremony.  To even further add to the excitement Jan and I were going to drive to Boston the next day where I would run the Boston Marathon on Monday.  It was a big weekend.

The wedding was everything and more.  And I was given the opportunity to give a toast at the reception, which I stammered through.  My words were from the heart and while I’m sure it wasn’t polished it was sincere.  It’s easy to be excited about a couple starting a new life together.  Out of the heart the mouth speaks and I hoped my words resonated with the audience.  Maybe it didn’t but I gave them another chance to drink champagne so there’s that!

After the toast was when it happened.  A friend approached and thanked me and dropped the line, “But you are so normal!” to which I nervously laughed.  The tone and delivery was such that I knew it was a compliment but in our day and age “normal” isn’t celebrated.  We try to punch out beyond normal.  There are ways to self-promote and elevate oneself to get above everyone else which seems to be the rule and not the exception.  Being normal seems to be code for not playing the game well enough or not being narcissistic enough to put yourself above anyone else.  Normal doesn’t sell well!  I have even found out that embracing “normal” can mean giving up riches and recognition as well.  In my time here on Earth I have experienced Gods faithfulness and it’s been deeper than whatever fame or fortune I have come across.  

She explained that she caught notice of a bike ride I did the previous weekend where I went fast and far.  It was a typical ride for me but it captured her attention.  It was an exercise performance that seemed out of reach for her, yet I was standing in front of a crowd speaking in a way that she could relate to, stuttering and all.   One thing I did caught her attention but what was said resonated with her.

The compliment rolled around in my brain for the next two days.  I was actually pretty restless with it because it wasn’t a “normal” compliment!  The good news was that I had 26.2 miles of Boston streets to process it and that would be a good distraction for the inevitable discomfort of pounding the pavement for a few hours.

While I was walking to the starting line I felt like a stranger in a strange land.  For many years of my life I had my livelihood tied to running and all of the gear that goes with it.  I was part of the culture. But this year I couldn’t believe the amount of technology in the running scene and while my love of running has remained the same, my place within the scene has changed. There were carbon-plated shoes on nearly every foot.  New fabric materials were part of everyone’s outfit.  GPS watches that put the space shuttle to shame were fired up and computing the day’s data.  There were nutritional items that were the latest and greatest around.   And since this was Boston it was all there.  It’s THE SCENE and to fit in among the crowd you had to have it.  It was all really cool stuff.

It wasn’t until I saw some pics later that day that I realized how “normal” I really was.  I appeared a bit more casual than the usual marathoner that day.   Comfortable shorts and baggy t-shirt?  Check!  My favorite shoes bought on eBay for $48?  Check!  Stopping in a race to say hi to my wife and steal a kiss?  Also check!  After all, a marriage is to be celebrated even when the clock is ticking!  I looked like a random Dad out for a jog trying to burn a few calories before saddling up to a big breakfast, not a data-driven runner looking to lay down a good Boston marathon time.

I crossed the line in 2 hours and 59 minutes which I was totally happy with.  I ran as fast as I could for as long as I could and when I ran into the inevitable difficult miles I remembered how many other times my legs and faith had gotten me to the finish line.  My training was aligned with the cross-country team I was coaching and the time available as to not upset good family time.  I worked what I had to the best of my ability.  There was a time that my times would have been “elite” but I can tell my lifestyle, priorities, and times are drifting towards “normal”!

So I write all of this to say that it’s ok to be seen as normal.  We each have giftings and attributes that are personal, unique, and needed.   And we should celebrate them!  But it’s only a gift if others can receive them.   That’s where “normal” comes into play.  God gives gifts to regular old people like you and me and then we get to use them.  But while they are unique to us they aren’t to puff us up but rather to compliment others and their gifts!  To promote and place our gifts above everyone and everything else lifts us up rather than Who gave us the gift in the first place.  

When others see our gifts as complementary to their own walk then that’s where normal kicks open the door of opportunity and encouragement.   Time and time again God uses people that seem insignificant, regular, or normal in the worlds eyes to create a movement, both big and small, in the hearts of others.  Our accomplishments can be admired but relating our achievements creates opportunity and inspiration for others.  Relating to others is really what it is all about because a few minutes of fame is just that…a few minutes!  

4 Beams

Two years ago we lost our garage to a big old fire.  It was the capstone to a year where we experienced tremendous freedom but also loss and rejection.  The fire cut out a large piece of our property, removed a lot of tangible history from our possession, and wounded our little family’s spirit.  It also brought some friendships to a new level and we bonded with our neighbors in a new way.  There was growth through adversity for sure.

One of the longest lasting effects of the fire is still ongoing; in fact I’m not sure when it will ever end!  It’s not the rebuilding of the garage, we finished that up just as the Covid stuff was starting.  It’s not replacing the oodles of tools and knick-knacks I lost as I have pieced together a pretty awesome man-cave for all of my projects.  The longest lasting effect of the fire is my sleep…I haven’t slept in my own bed since the fire!

The thought of a ginormous fire outside our house has raised concern for our youngest son and consequently he has retreated from his upstairs loft kingdom that he shares with his brother to my bedroom.  He sleeps well with his mom close by and our dog Kobe.  I head upstairs and relive my childhood in a single bed with Nerf bedsheets!

Outside our bedroom window stood our old garage.  Then the charred-log structure with rubble inside and out.  Then it was a clean, empty space.  And now stands a bigger, steel garage.  The completed garage is much better to look at but it was a process to get there.  Sam sleeps well with the new garage standing tall and our house further protected from fire danger.  Wisdom is guided by experience!

The view from my new sleeping quarters is different.  It’s a loft so I have a good view of our ceiling.  There is also an arsenal of nerf weapons, legos, hot wheels, and everything else a little boy might like up there.  But the way the beds are situated I see two objects every morning when I wake up.  It may be 5am and dark but there is always enough light to make out the silhouette of 4 beams that span the entire width and height of our house.

These beams form two crosses from my new-since-the-fire sleeping position.  From my position each set of two beams supports everything above, below, and across me.  A set of beams allows me to sleep in shelter and warmth every night.  Two sets of beams are like double protection!  It’s a double portion of peace.  

The comforting part about the beams spanning our house is that they are always there.  It’s not like I wake up some mornings and they aren’t there.  If I awake, and thank God I do, I know they will be there to stand and span.  There is nothing I have to do to make them appear as they were already placed there to cover and hold things in place around me.  I know they are there because the roof and walls are still standing.  I see them before I even place a foot on the floor or think about the things of the day.  There’s nothing I have to do to wish them into place or will them into existence.  They simply are there because they are needed; to span the gap and allow me to wake up and live the day!  The two crosses serve a reminder.  Every.  Day.