lessons from Benny

With the arrival of spring weather, Benny really wants to be outside!  I enjoy walking, and often take walks around the neighborhood to unwind after work.  He enjoys riding in the stroller (who wouldn't?), so the two of us (and sometimes some of the other kids), can often be seen strolling around town in the evenings.  Benny has a certain park that he loves to go to, and the playground equipment there is just his size, so this is one of our favorite destinations.

If you spend any time with Benny, one thing that is obvious about him is that he is a social creature.  He may not have an extensive vocabulary, and he really cannot engage in a conversation unless it is within a limited range of topics.  (Even a simple question like, "what's your name?", gets lost on Benny).  However, it doesn't matter if they understand him, or not, Benny will talk to anyone.

Anyone.

And therein lies the lesson.

I consider myself a pretty friendly guy.  Yet, I am selectively friendly.  I tend to size up people when I pass them on the sidewalk, and only give a friendly "hi" to those I deem as friendly, or receptive of my greeting.  Not so with Benny... happy couple pushing a stroller, friendly looking grandfather-type, teenage lovers neckin' on the sidewalk, or heavily tattooed and pierced individual spewing profanity:  all the same to Benny... people.  And if people are in the vicinity of Benny, they usually can't escape his enthusiastic, "Hi!"

I sometimes cringe when he shouts out a greeting, but I think God smiles.  I think Benny sees people much like God does, without stereotypes and preconceived ideas... just people.

I'm writing this for myself, but I suspect it applies to more than just me.  Might the world be a better place if everyone saw people through eyes like Benny's?

feet and feast

It's Holy Week... do you know what happened today in the life of Jesus? 

Sadly, many Christians don't focus much on Holy Week... and I've traditionally been one of them.  For many of us, Easter is about Sunday, and the days leading up to it are about preparation, shopping, cooking, travel or just an extra day off work.  But, there is a reason why tomorrow is a national holiday... and it's not just because the "actual" holiday falls on a Sunday.  No, it's because the celebration of Easter is an event, not just a day!

Thursday, being Christ's final full day on earth, marked these important events:

• Jesus joined the twelve disciples for a Passover meal (often referred to as "The Last Supper"), during which He instituted the observance of what is now known as Communion.  Luke 22:14-19
• Jesus took on Himself the role of a slave, and washed the feet of the twelve, then commanded them to follow his example to serve others.  John 13:4-17
• Jesus predicted his betrayal during the Passover meal.  John 13:21-30
• Jesus prayed, was betrayed by Judas and was arrested, in the Garden of Gethsemane.  Luke 22:39-53

In some Christian traditions, today is marked by Maundy Thursday or Holy Thursday observances, often involving foot washing and/or Communion.  "Maundy" is a bit of a foreign word for me, but it is from the Latin word mandatum, which means mandate or commandment, the significance of which comes from the commandment of Jesus to go and serve others, as he modeled in the washing of the disciple's feet.

But, I think perhaps the washing of the feet was more significant than just modeling humility and service.  Perhaps the real significance was in the symbolism of the cleansing.  Just as the elements of the first Communion were symbols... the broken bread representing the suffering He would endure in His body as it would be broken, and the cup representing His blood that would be shed as the end-all payment for sin... I see the cleansing of the disciple's feet as symbolic of the cleansing from sin that was about to be made possible by His impending death.  The commandment, then, was bigger than just acts of service and kindness, or to "serve others as I have served you", but to model the example of Christ in a way that points others to Him and the true cleansing His death offers.  That's a big calling for the twelve... and for me?

Easter... it's not just about Sunday!

TOWANDA!!!

They say a picture is worth a thousand words...

Well, here's a picture that brings a few words to mind... words I won't elaborate, because my blog is G-rated and my kids read it!  But, if I had a pet-peeve section of the blog, this post would definitely qualify!

We've all seen this one, right?  Pretty universal meaning... say it with me, "right lane ends, merge left". 

It's far from ideal, especially with gas prices what they are, but I have a 32-mile each-way commute to work.  I needed a job and they aren't too plenteous, so I have to make the best of 64 miles a day and frequent shopper status at the gas station.  But, what adds to the inconvenience is that none of my commute is via interstate.  Oh, I have a very direct and time-saving route that runs practically from my backyard to the front door of my employer... it's known as the Ohio Turnpike, but being frugal as I am, I choose to not increase my commuting expense by the $3.50 in daily tolls.  So, I spend one hour each way, mostly on two-lane highways... not ideal, but relatively tolerable.

Which brings me to the above sign... FIVE times each day, to be exact... twice in the morning, and thrice in the evening.  Without fail, I contend daily (from my proactive position in the left lane) with two interpretations of this sign:

• Casually ride the right lane until the very last minute, then merge left, as though you're the only car on the road.  Or, the more popular...
• Race up the right lane, passing as many cars as possible, then squeeze left at the very last minute, as though you own the road.

Each option requires me (who proactively grabbed the left lane WAY before the right lane ended) to yield the right-of-way to the MORONS in the right lane (if you, Dear Reader, happen to be one of them, I make no apology for calling you a MORON!)  Is it just me, or is this backwards?  I thought I had the right-of-way since my lane is continuous?  I thought the idea of merging left was to yield and blend in with the left-laners as unobtrusively as possible, thereby fostering an atmosphere of cooperation and manners?  Nope, instead I'm expected to make room for their sorry butts, and they get mad at me if I don't just roll out the red carpet and make it easy on them to cut me off and crowd me out (fingers, gestures, horns...)! 

Really?

Didn't we all learn in elementary school not to cut in line?  How does a few thousand pounds of steel and several horses under the hood make you feel that it's perfectly acceptable to become a highway bully and throw everyday courtesy out the window like the finger you just waved at me?  Why don't you try that at Home Depot... just zoom around the burly contractors in line and zip your cart into the register just as the front customer pulls away?  Yeah, I didn't think so!

I can't really do it, but there are times when I just want to channel the spirit of TOWANDA!  If you're saying, "who's TOWANDA?", it's likely that you've never seen the movie, Fried Green Tomatoes...

"Face it girls, I'm older and I have more insurance!"

Right lane ends, merge left... perhaps I'll start sporting a red sunvisor as I drive my 64 miles per day... TOWANDA!!!

strike up the band

Dylan is now a second year band student, and he has considerably expanded his knowledge of percussion.  In fifth grade, percussion students focused on the bells, but in sixth grade he has added snare drum, bass drum, crash cymbal, suspended cymbal, wood block, triangle, and sleigh bells.

He is not quite as excited about band this year, mostly, I think, because he has a different band teacher than he had last year.  He is pretty sure he gets his original teacher back next year, as he transitions into marching band in seventh grade.

The fifth and sixth grade band concert was a few weeks ago.  He played bells, snare drum and triangle in this year's concert.

Dylan is in the back row, just to the right of the director, wearing a white shirt and dark tie.

Sixth grade percussionist

Dylan rarely gets dressed up, so I wanted to capture the moment.  Just before I took the picture, he had his hands full of drumsticks, mallets and music, so I told him to lay it on the ground, except for his drumsticks, for a picture... to which he vehemently protested, "No, Dad, give me my mallets, too... I played bells and drums tonight!"  Sorry, Dylan... you're right, percussion isn't just drums!

another happy birthday

This is one of those short snippets of life that I never want to forget. 

I've mentioned before that my youngest, Benny (age 3 1/2), is developmentally delayed, and although growing, his verbal skills and vocabulary are behind most kids his age.  One big example is vocabulary to express emotions.  As previously written here and here, he knows what "I'm sad" feels like, but he communicates it, "I sorry".  He also knows what "I'm happy" feels like, but he communicates it, "happy birthday!"

This weekend, Jen was away with her Mom on a women's retreat with her Mom's church.  I was in charge... which means I put aside many of the projects that often distract me, and focused on just being a Dad a little more than I usually do. 

Saturday was unseasonably warm in northeast Ohio... like 70-degree-range-two-months-earlier-than-normal warm!  Saturday evening, I got the fire pit out of the shed and set it up for the first backyard fire of the season.  I was sitting around the fire with all the kids, with Benny cuddling on my lap (the ONLY safe place for Benny to be when a fire is burning!)

Benny looked up at me and sweetly asked, "Dad... this a happy birthday?"

Yes, Benny, not by the calendar, but the moment feels a lot like a happy birthday to me!

sap's a risin'

Last Sunday was a beautiful day (as is this one, as evidenced by the fact that I am blogging outside... in my shorts... in mid-March... in northeast Ohio!)  One of the metro parks in our area hosts a maple sugaring event each spring.  We have wanted to go for several years, and finally made it this year.

Sap's a risin'... a typical early springtime sight in northeast Ohio.

There were live demonstrations of maple sugaring techniques beginning in the 1700's...

1800's...

Sampling raw sap straight from the tap.

Zachary giving the 1800's auger a try.

Lily's turn.

The buckets were empty, but normally each side would weigh over 20 pounds.  They offered Dylan a job carrying sap for 10-11 hours a day for 25¢ per day... 1800's wages!

30¢ per pound in the 1800's!

Enter the 1900's... maple syrup $1.50 per gallon.

The 2000's... gas augers and plastic tubing that connects trees together in a "pipeline" to a central collection.

Boiling down the sap at the central collection.

43 gallons of sap = 1 gallon of maple syrup

Free samples!  I don't think I've ever had real maple syrup before.  It was delicious!  Jen was all set to purchase some... but the $30 per half gallon price tag deterred her!

Small fishing lake at the park.

Appalachian music

that took guts

My oldest, Dylan, is in a challenge reading class this year.  The kid can read well above his grade level, and he often chooses a pretty broad range of both fiction and non-fiction.  Recently, his reading class had a project called, "The Wax Museum", for which they had to read a biography and "perform" as a talking wax figure of the person they studied.

Sometimes your kids really make you proud.

This was one of those sometimes.

Dylan originally chose Mark Hall, lead singer of the Christian music group, Casting Crowns.  Great choice... except there isn't a lot of biographical content written on Mark Hall.  One evening, he was telling me about his choice to do Mark Hall because it would be a way to bring God to his public school, and that he was bummed that it didn't work out.  (Did I mention that I was proud of his choice?)  He wasn't sure who he would choose, since this first choice didn't work.  I told him I had a half-dozen, or so, biographies of Christians on my bookshelf that he was welcome to use, if any of them interested him. 

He hadn't really heard of any of them (Umm... Billy Graham?), but he thumbed through my books, and Jim Elliot, missionary to the Auca Indians of Ecuador, caught his attention.  Dylan read about the life of Jim Elliot, and was quite impressed... and was happy that pictures showed him mostly in a t-shirt, so it wouldn't be too hard to get in character!

He chose his "frozen pose" as standing while reading an open Bible.  When someone hit the "button" on his display, he tucked the Bible under his arm and told about his (Jim Elliot's) life.  When he was done with his memorized monologue, he went back to his reading pose.

He and I took a walk one evening, after the project was done, and he started telling me about what he learned from the life of Jim Elliot... which is pretty heavy stuff.  You see, Jim Elliot was killed in Ecuador at age 29.  I could tell the project had really impacted Dylan.  He also told me that some kids made fun of him for having a Bible at school... but, "it was worth it."

Whose kid is this?  I don't think I had that much guts at age 11... hmmm, do I now, for that matter?