Dorseyville Daze

Watercolor Ponies

Trey started his senior year today. I am not sitting here with tears or anything - just reflecting on the last twelve years and how quickly time flies. It is so hard to believe that he is going to graduate this year. Naturally, we are not the first parents to consider this. It is all in the cycle of life. But as many of you know, theory is one thing but experience is the thing. I have prayed for him for so many years and soon must let him go and have faith that what he has learned from us will guide him. That takes faith on both of our parts. He has turned out to be a great young man. He is thoughtful and sensitive - always standing up for the other guy. He has a great sense of justice. My strange humor has rubbed off on him. We both just sit and laugh about things. He has a strange quirkiness. He is a great guy.

The song Watercolor Ponies talks about those sometimes indistinguishable works of art on your refrigerator. It sums my feelings, I guess.

Baby, what will we do when it comes back to me and you?
They look a little less like little boys every day.
The pleasures of watching the children growing
is mixed with the bitter cup of knowing
the watercolor ponies will one day ride away.

This is going to be a great year. Graduation is on May 28, 2009. Just 274 days away.

Never Leave Your Partner Behind

Rhonda and I were fortunate to see an early preview of Fireproof at church a few weeks ago. It is a great film. We laughed. We cried. We really related to the characters. I think most married couples will see themselves somewhere in the movie.

At its basics, the movie is about relationships. The relationship between and man and his wife, his parents, and his co-workers, and ultimately, his relationship with Christ. Kirk Cameron's character seems at once strong and very driven but also distracted by the trappings of life. He has no center; there is no foundation to keep him steady. It is made pretty evident that a marriage will not reach its full potential without Jesus as the third partner. The relationship with his Dad was especially touching to me. During those scenes I found myself wanting an experience like that. I loved my Dad very much but never achieved this kind of intimacy with him. I feel like I missed out on something very special.

This film is from the creators of Facing The Giants. It is very affirming and can strengthen marriages. I hope you can make time to see it.

Don't look behind the curtain.

The olympics are well underway and have proven to be pretty exciting. I have loved seeing Michael Phelps and following along on his journey to become the most decorated olympic athlete in history. I have been on the edge of my seat while watching the men's and women's gymnastics. All in all, it has been pretty entertaining.

The opening ceremonies were just incredible. However, I found myself thinking about the people involved the whole time. I guess I don't really know what it is like to live under communism. What I know about it is largely anecdotal. But as I was marveling at the precision of the drummers and the sheer size of the production in general, I couldn't help to think about how long it took to get it as perfect as it was. It was really remarkable. How long did these people practice? I heard somewhere that they practiced hours and hours for days and days. Do they have jobs? Did companies sacrifice productivity for the sake of the state? How much do these people get paid? One of the segments said that the vast majority of Chinese people get by on $2/day. Did I hear that right? The ruling class is VERY wealthy. Everyone else just survives. If that is so, do these people realize that? Even the Chinese athletes are taken from their families at very young ages to train. They rarely see their families. Are all of these sacrifices made voluntarily? I guess everything is done for the good of the state. I don't get it.

So, even as I was impressed by the expansive scope and technology of the opening ceremonies I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. It might have been the lunch that I had eaten earlier but I suspect it was the realization that China, a country often vilified for it's disregard for civil rights, had spent billions of dollars so that people like me would sit in amazement at their spectacular job. We will probably never know how much this Olympics cost them or how much debt they are left with.

Later, I heard on the news that the sweet little girl in the red dress was not singing but lip-syncing. Also, the fireworks on television were not the same fireworks that were experienced live. They had been enhanced with computer-generated graphics for the television viewers. I understand, I suppose, China's desire to look good to the world. But this is a perfect example of what communist regimes try to do. Let's make it look perfect and maybe they won't notice what is behind the curtain. It makes me wonder how much of the ceremony really was computer controlled. That would explain the precision. Whatever you do, ignore that man behind the curtain.

A Still, Small Voice

The still, small voice was whispering,"Grace" in my soul. Every fiber of my being was screaming for retribution or, at least, some kind of fairness. But there was that voice. "Grace... grace... they are only teenagers." So I took a deep breath, put on my iPod and started cleaning.

Five hours earlier...

Two of the six guys I was responsible for at Trey's youth camp decided to cook a spaghetti dinner one night. I thought that was a good idea and much cheaper than eating out in Red River, NM at night. And we would all be there together for a meal which provided another opportunity to bond. They wouldn't let me help at all; instead, one would call his mother multiple times to seek advice. I guess they didn't know or care (well, they did know... I told them a few times) that I am a good cook. I do most all of the cooking for my family during the week. But my experience was not asked for. They had purchased a lot of food. I was sure there would be left-overs. I did check on them several times just in case they needed something but they seemed to know what they were doing. So we were going to have spaghetti.

Trey and I were on the deck upstairs with four other guys playing a rousing and loud game of Rat, a variation of the dice game Farkle. Shouts of excitement and disgust would come spewing off the deck causing passers-by to look up and ask what we were doing. It was that clamor that make it hard to believe that the guys downstairs "didn't know I was there." So all of the spaghetti was eaten by those guys with the help of the guys next door. There was none left.

Over the previous few days I had tried to connect with these guys and really thought that I was making some good progress. "Spaghetti-gate" illustrated that I was wrong about that, at least to some degree. At first, I was disappointed until one of the fellows brought up the half-empty plate of his second or third helping (I am not sure which.) Trey had gone down and asked if there were anything left. I told the guy that I really wasn't that angry but for him to tell everyone that I was ticked off. I was going to milk it for awhile. Then I went into the kitchen. Oh my Emeril! What a mess! There was spaghetti everywhere, cooked and uncooked. There was spaghetti sauce spilled on the counter, floor, and the sides of the crock pot they had used to keep it warm. (That was actually my suggestion.) Pots and pans were covering the counters - pans that had been used to cook hamburger meat, pots that had held spaghetti, pots that weren't even used (I think). It was overwhelming. That is when I kind of lost it. The bus was going to pick us up in 35 minutes to take us to the conference center that was about a mile away. I told them, in no uncertain terms, that it all must be cleaned up before they get on that bus. Upon that instruction, Trey and I left to find something quick to eat so we would not be late to the evening session.

I was certain that when I walked back into the kitchen that it would be clean. So I was crestfallen upon finding that much of it was still untouched. They had put the plates in the dishwasher, apparently without rinsing them, which clogged up the dishwasher and later caused a leak all over the kitchen floor. All of the pots and pans and mess were still there. I started to get warm.

"Grace. Grace"

Then I noticed the crock pot had been left on and had a black baked-on layer of spaghetti sauce in the interior. I was getting really mad now. "I can't believe these guys didn't share their meal with me and then left all of this for someone else to clean", I thought.

"Grace. Grace"

In all, it took about an hour to clean that mess. I got finished just before they returned from the late night activities. In my room, I listened to see if anyone had noticed. It seemed they didn't. And the next day, no one said thanks or even acknowledged that any of it had happened. Later, one of the guys, who had been sick and taken to the hospital thanked me for looking after him and "everything I did." I appreciate that but it was given in a more general way. I will, however, take what I can get in that respect.

The next day, before we left Red River, I was checking the kitchen one last time. I found another mess inside the microwave. Someone had re-heated their spaghetti and sauce had splattered all over the inside of it. "I wish I had seen this yesterday."

"Grace. Grace"

We were often told by our leader that this week was not about us (the adult sponsors). In light of that, I feel kind of guilty for even writing about this. I had been praying for several weeks that God would use me somehow to influence "my guys". And although camp was really great in every other way, I came home wondering if the Lord had used me in any way. Later, I told Rhonda that I am not sure that I got anything from camp this year. But she reminded me about that voice. That still small voice quietly urging me to extend grace to those six 10th grade boys. I am not sure why but I guess I did bring home a lesson about grace. Maybe God was also showing me that it really wasn't all about me. Should I have cleaned up that mess or made them do it? I may never know if any of this had an impact on any of them. But upon reflection, it did have an impact on me.

A man's wisdom gives him patience; it is to his glory to overlook an offense." Proverbs 19:11

Are You Smarter Than A 3rd Grader?

At first glance, the obvious answer to that question, it seems, is yes. I am smarter than a 3rd grader. But after spending a week with 20 3rd graders at church camp I am amazed at what I learned from them. Noah and I spent five days at Camp GAP with about 1200 other kids and adults last week. And what a week it was! Our Minister to Children considers this week the highlight of the year. I now know why he thinks of Camp GAP that way. It was a great week.

Noah was able to climb a rock wall, slide down a 4 story zip line, and climb a 55-foot alpine tower. The kids learned about God's Amazing Power (GAP) and were blessed by Keith Coast as he preached the Word with his unique blend of the Gospel and illusion. And, of course, he got inside a large balloon. That was a crowd favorite.

It never ceases to amaze me how God can bless me so much through the lives of kids. Whether it is church camp, Upwards Sports, or teaching a Sunday School class, I am always inspired by the outlook and perspective these kids have. I guess it is all a part of serving but I think I am often blessed more than the kids that I am with. That is why Camp GAP is one of the highlights of the year. And that is why I am planning to go back next year.

Now from 3rd graders on to the youth. I will be going to camp with Trey next week. It is in Red River, NM again this year. We will spend a frenetic week up in the mountains. It was a lot of fun last year. So next week, the question is what can I learn from a group of teenagers that think that have all of the answers. I don't know. These guys inspire me all the time. Sometime while we are there, we are planning to go white-water rafting down the Rio Grande. I am sure that I will learn something in that experience. I did not do it last year but want to now after hearing Trey rave about it. I guess I will have some stories to tell when we get back. Now what did I do with my sunscreen?

God is sovereign.

The 5-year-old daughter of singer Steven Curtis Chapman has died after being hit by a car in the driveway of the family's Tennessee home, police said.

A representative for the Tennessee Highway Patrol told The Tennessean that the Christian music star's youngest child, Maria, died Wednesday night after her teenage brother hit her with the Toyota Land Cruiser he was driving down the driveway of the family's rural Williamson County home.

[From Singer Chapman's daughter, 5, killed - UPI.com]

I am heart broken over the loss of their youngest daughter. Please pray for this family and for the young man that was behind the wheel. What he must be going through right now. SCC has long been my favorite CCM artist. I know God will see them through this tragedy. He is not up there saying, "Man, I did not see that coming." He has a purpose for this.

There's Nobody Like Momma

It must have been in ’68 or ’69 when you saved my life. It’s all but a dim recollection now but I still see the three angry bears charging towards me in our backyard. Then from out of nowhere you rushed towards them, positioning yourself between me and the hungry bears, fighting them off with a broom. You really saved me. You were my hero. And although it was just a dream I can’t help but think what deeper reality it represented. I couldn’t fully know or understand until later in my life how much a hero you really were to me. For it wasn’t just those bears that you saved me from. You taught me so many things.

You were one of the most caring people that I have ever known. God gave you a servant heart and you never let Him down with loving service to those around you. You became a nurse because you cared so much for others. You continuously took care of Auntie when she got on up in years and rarely got out of bed. You put up with so much and I know that you were disappointed when she never seemed to appreciate just what you went through. But that didn’t stop you from continuing to care for her. I guess you couldn’t help yourself. It was just so much a part of what made you the special person that you were. From that I learned that we should respect everyone and love them because God made them. And in a world that is moving so fast, we simply cannot forget family. Family is everything.

It was early afternoon on that day, in August 1973, just a few weeks until school started back. Laura and I were playing outside in the late summer heat and Dad was inside taking a nap on the couch. Laura sent me to retrieve a friend a few houses down the street and I took off on her bike accelerating down the sloping driveway. I was a skilled bike rider, having learned several years before, but that did not matter when I hit the rock near the bottom of the driveway. The bike went down and I was wailing in agony. Laura came sauntering down the driveway and even the neighbors came to see what had happened. I screamed at Laura to get Dad and he finally (it seemed like an hour) came down to “fix” me. But he couldn’t. So off to the hospital we went. An x-ray showed that both bones in my lower right arm had broken. They had to set my arm and put it in a cast. Upon our arrival at the hospital, you were told that I was in the emergency room. However, you were in the middle of a surgery and could not come to my aid at that particular time. In fact, I don’t think you were ever able to get there before we left. I was disappointed. In fact, for many years after that, I never let you live that down. It was all in fun, of course. Even though I didn’t see it at the time, I learned some things from that whole ordeal. I learned that the world does not revolve around me. There are other things going on and some of them may very well take precedence over me. The fact that you did not immediately come running said less about your love for me (of course, you loved me!) and more about the importance of your job. The truth of that situation was someone’s life was on the line and I just broke my arm. It also taught me that a strong work ethic is important. You always urged me to do my best even if it wasn’t the best. You consistently followed that advice. You always did your best.

I can’t imagine what it was like for you when both of your children, now grown, were off to their own lives. I guess I was always a “momma’s boy.” I always felt so close to you. I remember calling you two or three times a week just to hear your voice. They say there’s nobody like Momma. I admire you so much because I know of the struggles that you went through with Dad over the last several years of his life. I remember the phone calls from you that would break my heart and yet was so honored that you would call me at those times. I remember encouraging you that your crown in heaven was going to be just loaded with jewels. And I prayed for you mightily. You have taught me that marriage, even during the dark moments, is a commitment that should not be taken lightly. You were steadfast in that commitment until the day Dad died - always taking care of him and putting his needs before your own. I love you for that.

I am glad that you were raised in a Christian home. Your parents were both instrumental in leading you to the Lord and you certainly passed that on to me. As I was growing up, you always made sure that I was in Sunday school. You didn’t always attend church services yourself but you lived out your life as an example of Jesus. Not to say your life was perfect, but you taught me right from wrong. You taught me to love the Bible and that Truth was therein. I thank God when I remember the last time we were together. It is etched in my mind. You were so proud to come to see Trey’s baptism. We could tell that you didn’t feel well that entire weekend. But you soldiered on. You decided to leave early - right after church on Sunday. I leaned over into your open window and told you that I loved you and kissed you on the cheek. Our telephone conversation, later that night, was the last time we spoke. You left us so quickly the very next day, Noah’s birthday. My heart was sad but my faith gave me peace and hope. I know I will see you again someday. I can’t wait for that. I guess, after all these years, I am still a “momma’s boy.”

Your adoring son,

Donny

^{April 21, 2007}

I wrote this last year as a tribute to my mom. On this Mother's Day I hope you have told your mom that you love her, given her a firm hug, and thanked God for his many blessings. If, like me, your mother has gone on I encourage you to thank God for the profound influence that she may have had on your life. Then find another mother somewhere, perhaps your daughter or a neighbor, and wish them a Happy Mother's Day.

Live Out Loud

There are so many times when we are blessed and just go on about our lives without giving thanks or praise for the blessing. Only one of the ten healed lepers returned to Jesus to praise Him for what He had done. Are we so preoccupied with our own lives that we cannot acknowledge His greatness and His ultimate sacrifice for us? We need to live life to the fullest every day. We never know when our appointed time is. That is so evident with the passing of Chynna Zmolik. This year's D-Now at church will forever be remembered not for the great teaching, worship, and fellowship but as the weekend when many of those students first tasted the bitter root of death and mourning. It is really sad. It just doesn't seem right to lose someone at age 17. But God is sovereign. We can trust that He knows what He is doing. So we need to live life in the moment. We need to thank continuously. We need to praise constantly. We need to worship relentlessly. We need to pray ceaselessly. We need to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with the Lord. Without end.

When you are finished reading this, please say a prayer for the Zmolik family. Ms. Zmolik,17, was a student at Forney High School who died after a 23-hour surgery to repair a valve in her heart. This family is a pillar of our community and loved by many.

My kind of thinking...

I have a quote for the day on my home page and the following quote came up today. What a great way to look at life as half full. I wish I thought in these terms more often.

 

I like an escalator because an escalator can never break, it can only become stairs. There would never be an escalator temporarily out of order sign, only an escalator temporarily stairs. Sorry for the convenience.
  - Mitch Hedberg

Update on Trey

Several people have asked how Trey is doing. Fortunately, all of that crisis is over. Trey's last trip to the doctor held good news for us. He is expected to make a full recovery. His eye is still dilated slightly but the doctor told us there was no further damage to the eye. The dilation should go down with time and the eye return to normal. Trey's vision is clear and his worries about needing glasses seem to unwarranted, at least for the short term. Thank you for all of your prayers and the many nice comments and well-wishes. Friends are great.