I have several friends who are graduates of the prestigious school of music at the University of North Texas. Whenever that group gets together, inevitably, they begin to swap stories about a real-life Dallas-area musician who happens to embody all the traits of the stereotypical musician’s caricature – an oblivious, vacant airhead with absolutely nothing on his mind but his music. Durwood is, indeed, a legend.
One day, he was packing his instruments into his van for a gig* he was playing in Amarillo, 300 miles away, up in the Texas Panhandle. Durwood, of course, had given no previous consideration to the logistics of his trip. So, when he saw an 18-wheeler passing by with the name of a company and “Amarillo, Texas” emblazoned on the side, he decided it would be a good thing if he just followed the truck all the way to his destination.
Durwood’s first clue that something was amiss should have been that the trip was taking a lot longer than it should have. But, he really got suspicious when all the road signs were in Spanish. He had followed that truck all the way down into Mexico. Amarillo was now about 600 miles back in the other direction. Durwood was not a man of vision.
I would define “vision” as “knowing who we are and where we’re going.” Proverbs 29:18 says, “Where there is no vision, the people perish.” We’ve often heard this scripture used as a rallying cry for a floundering church. It has motivated congregations to re-focus and set specific goals for worship and ministry. What would it look like if we applied the truth found in that verse in our homes and families? What’s the specific vision that you have for your family?
Prayerfully seek God to determine what He wants your family’s vision to be. That can be as foundational as the attitudes that He wants reflected in your home. And, that’s really a great place to start. As you work to enact those basic characteristics into the structure of your home, you will most likely see some other things begin to happen, too.
In Proverbs 29:18, we are familiar with the King James translation of the word “perish.” Other translations probably more accurately define it as “unrestrained,” “uncontrolled,” or “running wild.” Does that sound familiar? Every home has had at least a few days when “unrestrained” would be a nice way to describe the atmosphere there. When a family has a definite vision in place for how they should look and what their goals are, those days are not as frequent and are more manageable when they do occur.
God’s vision for your home is not only a general idea about how you conduct yourselves. Your family vision also will allow each person under your roof to begin to blossom. It provides fertile ground where each individual can discover his unique talents and abilities. It brings into focus a picture of what each person has to offer to others there, and creates a lab where they can refine those gifts in order to touch their entire world.
Discover God’s vision for your family! Work together to make it a reality. Be determined to establish it in the lives of each individual and the entire household. And, then, watch God bring order and purpose there.
* “job,” in the musician’s lexicon; a shout-out to all my musician friends
“I don’t care what you do as long as you keep the kids quiet so I can watch the game.”
That sentiment will be ringing out in homes throughout the country as men everywhere settle in at 5:18 CST Sunday for the kickoff of Super Bowl XLII. Okay, I realize it’s not the most wholesome attitude for any dad who figures to be in the running for Father Of The Year, but, I must admit that I used to occasionally fall into that trap. Come on, now, and be honest. All the rest of you have, too.
So, if we hope to remain beloved to our children, highly esteemed by our wife, and still savor every snap of the football game of the year, what plan should we enact to get the job done? I have some experience in this arena, so as I present my life story, sit back and learn, Grasshopper.
I love sports. Actually, I’m passionate about sports. I have been since my earliest memories as a child, probably because my Dad loved sports so much. When we were blessed with kids in our home, I had two options. I could draw the battle lines and forever be challenged by the inevitable interruptions as I tried to revel in the thrill of victory or the agony of defeat. Or, I could share my passion with my kids. I chose the latter, and, thankfully, it paid off.
Annie was born September 21, 1980, at the Methodist Hospital in San Antonio, which happened to overlook the Oak Hills Country Club, site of the Texas Open. Was it mere coincidence that labor and delivery had a large picture widow that gave a perfect view of the 18th hole? I think not. Annie’s first introduction to this world was a large gallery cheering Lee Trevino on to the championship.
The first gift I purchased for my daughter was a tiny pair of Houston Oilers’ pajamas, and her first Sunday afternoons were spent propped on a pillow in front of the TV in those pajamas as we watched Earl Campbell, Kenny “Snake” Stabler, and Billy “White Shoes” Johnson, march into the NFL playoffs. I didn’t think it could get any better, but then I had a son.
Matt’s bedtime stories were actually about a fictional sports hero I made up who was somewhat of a blend of Jim Thorpe, Superman, and Billy Graham. He always said and did the right things, played all sports and won almost every game in some spectacular fashion. And, he loved Jesus! It must have made some kind of impact, because, in his athletic career, I do believe Matt tried every sport that was out there.
I tried to make the games I was interested in become events for the kids. If the Spurs were in the playoffs, and I wanted to be sure to see the game on television, all of us would plan a family party complete with decorations and arena food. We went to as many games in person as we could, and did all the things that would make it memorable for Annie and Matt.
I got to live out one of my dreams when I worked for a professional football team back in the days of the United States Football League, when football was fun. I should thank our team's head coach, Jim Bates, for making pro football a family affair, encouraging coaches, players and staff to include their families whenever possible. So I took Martha and the kids to work with me as often as I could. Annie will tell you about her memories of running around the track at Alamo Stadium with Jim's son, Jeremy, who is now the quarterbacks coach for the Denver Broncos. Players passed Matt around like he was the football. And Jim entertained the kids with his dead-on Donald Duck imitation.
I can’t tell you how it thrilled me as my kids grew to love sports, too. The memories that we’ve been able to share together are the dividends of the time that I spent passing my passion on...
...In eighth grade, Annie took the skills from our driveway basketball games and, out of the blue, told me, “I think I’m going to try out for the team.” So she laid aside her passion, drama, and worked harder than I’d ever seen her work to make the basketball team. She did it, and even ended up her one-year career as a starter.
...Most people who casually know Annie would be shocked to find out that she’s been an official game statistician at courtside and in the dugout. She’s such a lady that they can’t believe she has that jock side to her.
...I was thrilled when she called me from college to tell me that, as the yearbook sports editor, she had received the top award among all the colleges in Oklahoma.
...Nobody ever worked harder as an athlete than Matt did. He never turned down a challenge. Undersized as a lineman on one of the top high school football programs in the state of Texas, he not only succeeded, he was the team captain.
...He led his school’s Fellowship of Christian Athletes in things that were more important than the game itself. Those guys have gone on to win Olympic gold medals, play in the NFL and play professional baseball, but they still look to Matt for counsel and leadership.
...I can always count on getting a phone call from him when there’s a game on TV that we’ll both be watching.
...Annie and Robbie’s phone call from the Tampa Bay Buccaneers’ game one Monday night, just to make sure I’d look for them on TV
...Annie, the middle school drama teacher, telling me, “I actually think I could coach a middle school football team.”
...Matt coaching football clinics in California
...the memories go an and on.
Whether it’s sports, music, cars, or your faith, share your passion with your kids. It just might become their passion, too.
Your mom was right. Always say “please” and “thank you” – especially “thank you.” And, whether she realized it or not though, that seemingly insignificant act of saying “thank you” has far more impact than simply socially acceptable behavior.
We’re one week into a new year and it’s a great time to establish something in our homes that will sincerely affect the lives of every member our family. Thankfulness doesn’t just happen. It’s a choice we make and an attitude we cultivate, just like its opposite, ungratefulness. Then, as we make thankfulness a habit in our homes, it becomes not just a conditioned reflex, but a condition of the heart. Thankfulness prepares the way for worship. It causes unity to blossom. It yields peace and encourages fruitfulness. It forges courage and confidence and builds hope.
Here’s an idea you might want to initiate in your home. It works whether there’s one or one hundred and it just might change the whole atmosphere in your house. Post-it notes are a staple item at home and in the office. They come in all sizes and colors, and there’s just something about seeing them that just calls for action!
For this purpose, the small size post-it works just fine, and you should provide plenty of them for each family member in their own special color. Just write on each note one thing that you’re thankful for, and stick it on the refrigerator, the wall, the door or anywhere else that it’s sure to be seen. Don’t worry, they don’t harm the paint! And, don’t stop there. Keep being thankful and keep posting notes. Be thankful for people, for things, and for situations. Encourage everybody to participate, and if somebody seems a bit reluctant, start covering their bedroom door or walls with notes about why you’re thankful for them. It’s almost a sure thing that they’ll feel the need to join in. After about three or four days, collect them in an envelope and save them for a later time when everybody can sit down together and remember everything you were thankful for.
Here’s a twist that your family will enjoy. Select one family member as a special target. Take about 30 minutes and have everybody cover that person with post-its about why they’re thankful for them.
Sometimes it’s the simple things that make the biggest changes! May God bless your home with thankfulness in 2008!
Martha & Greg
It’s a wild, wild ride from Thanksgiving to Christmas, with so much to decorate, to buy, to wrap, to mail, to cook...and work, too! But tonight, those precious moments in firelight and candlelight round the Christmas tree, and tomorrow, when family and friends gather, will make it all worth it.
It’s all too easy for me, as the daughter of the original June Cleaver, to lose myself in recipes and shopping lists and details of the season, and sail right past the time to quiet my heart and think about what really happened to my life because of that baby born so long ago, His life already marked by the shadow of a cross, one that was meant for me.
I found that moment this morning, and thought I would share my thoughts with you. My prayer for us all today is that, once again, our hearts will be touched with the wonder of Emmanel, God With Us!
Martha
My computer screen glows
With instant information from
The other side of the world
While outside, bright against a black velvet sky
Stars sparkle, high and cold
A vague memory of the great star
That shown among them
That one night
Electric lights, at least 3,000
Creatively strung along tree and roof
Burn bravely
Our little attempt to recreate
Glory
That flooded a hillside
That one night
Muzak backgrounds
Of trumpets, harps and strings
Accompany shoppers thronging the malls
And sometimes
The whispering echo of ancient angels’ song stirs our hearts
For one brief moment with
Joy
That filled the earth
That one night
Now, we stop our schedules
And on this one night
Gather loved ones gladly
Round this lighted tree
And, looking back,
We welcome you
Sweet infant King
Knowing as wise men and shepherds could not know
The peace
The joy
The freedom
The redemption
That were born
With You
That one night
Every Christmas, I try to learn something new about the story of Jesus’ birth that will make it fresh and even more significant to me. That’s been a lot of years, for sure, but, without fail, I discover a new facet every time.
The measure of God’s love for us is a subject that seemingly has unending perspectives. This Christmas season, I realized something about that love that I never noticed before. God loves us so much that He broke the rules. I think within my concept of His holiness and goodness I had, until now, attributed some timidity to God’s personality that was really not there.
Now, before you label me some kind of heretic, you have to know that I understand completely that God can’t violate His character. He didn’t contradict who He was. It was our set of rules that he shattered when He sent His Son to earth.
Our rules stated that a virgin couldn’t conceive a child. It just didn’t happen like that. Our rules were that a King couldn’t be born in a stable. Our rules declared that once a Messiah did come to earth, He would surely be more forceful and demanding. Wouldn’t he take over and make things right immediately? Our rules would never allow the Son of God to die, especially on a torturous cross. But, if by some strange twist of fate, he did die, our rules pronounced that that was surely the end of it all.
But, God loves us too much to be contained by our trivial legalism. His ideas and plans are much deeper, much broader, much more brilliant that what we can fathom. So, he had to break through all our preconceived notions in order to rescue us from sin and from ourselves. Our rules are the things that contain Him, and prevent Him from doing what He wants in and through our lives.
In my Christmas reflections this year, I recalled attending a retreat at Mo Ranch in Hunt, Texas, over thirty years ago. One of the featured speakers was Dr. Lloyd Ogilvie, who, at the time, was pastor of Hollywood Presbyterian Church in California, and later served a number of years as Chaplain of the United States Senate. Dr. Ogilvie is a very distinguished individual with a resonant voice that, most certainly, must sound just like God’s. I have never forgotten one particular phrase that he spoke in that retreat session. He said, “If you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God could not fail, what would you set out to do for His Kingdom?”
Our words say one thing about God, but our rules might not bear that out. If I really understood and believed that God’s love for me was inexhaustible and that He stands behind that love with power that is immeasurable, how would I live my life differently?
In my search for something deeper and something more meaningful, that’s the challenge that God has placed before me this Christmas season. I want to begin acting like I really believe that God will not fail. I want to break the rules.
I'm beginning to understand what it feels like to be Brad Pitt. There's very little I have in common with the guy, including the fact I've never been one of People magazine's Most Beautiful People. But, both of us definitely married "up."
A few weeks back, we were in Philadelphia, where Martha was honored as one of the country's top five journalism educators. Then, yesterday, all her school's principals and vice principals invaded her classroom with balloons, flowers and hoopla, and announced to her that the University of Texas had selected her as one of the Top Ten Teachers In Texas. There are over 300,000 teachers in this state, and she was chosen as one of the top of the heap!
It's especially satisfying for me to see Martha get this award, because I suppose I know more than anyone else all that she invests into her students. The time, the patience and the effort to teach them the skills to create excellent student publications are only the beginning. She's all about the kids. Martha sees a need for hope in today's kids' lives, and everything she does and says to them is focused on bringing that to them. Teaching is her calling, and God has, this year, rewarded her faithfulness to that mission. I'm really thankful to be her husband!
A few weeks ago, we asked you to share with us ways that you’ve found to share God’s love as a family during the holiday season. We received so many great stories, and we thought it would be good to share a few of them with everyone.
“Something we do as a family to minister to others is making chicken soup! We shop for the ingredients together, prepare it and deliver it together. My mother did this, too, and I wanted to pass it along to my children. My mom used to make everything homemade, like bread, and dessert, too. Well, I still make the soup, but we buy the dessert and bread at Costco and I don't feel guilty in the least!”
This contribution was from someone who works with a ministry that organized this outreach to the needy...
“We asked churches to put together bags of hygiene products to give to local homeless shelters. The packets contained full size shampoo, bar of soap and soap dish, brush, comb, toothpaste, toothbrush, lotion and deodorant. The idea was that each ‘guest’ at a shelter could receive his or her own packet of products to clean up with. Each packet also contained a Bible and a package of underwear. We asked participants to buy the underwear in the size of the individual making the packet. We got many responses from parents who said that they had a wonderful time as a family shopping for the items for the packet, and how it impacted their children to put ‘child size’ underwear into those packets The kids would have an understanding that there were children their age and size that didn’t have a home or bed. Many said that they were planning to continue to do these packets on a quarterly basis, picking up a few items every time they went shopping and making the packets together as a family to take to the shelter!”
“Every year, my dad and I would participate in a soup kitchen together. At first, I was uneasy and uncertain, but I began to model his confidence and compassion and was able to focus on serving and those being served. Our whole family was part of a mass-assembly of thanksgiving dinner bags. We worked with several other families to make sure that each bag had a frozen turkey and all the necessary fixin's. Then, as a family, we would go out and present these ‘dinners in a bag’ to families identified through our church as being in need. We did this at Christmas, too, and took gifts along with the food.”
“We once had three Chinese international students from a local college over for Thanksgiving, and it was a great experience. International students really appreciate being part of a family for holidays. They are very curious about American home life and customs, but often don't have an opportunity to see the inside of an American home. It was also a great chance to expose our kids to another culture. Kids tend to build bridges quickly and make the whole experience much easier and more enjoyable for all.”
“Living near an Air Force base afforded us a unique opportunity to serve together as a family. During Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays, the base published a list of trainees that were available to visit the homes in the areas. These were very young men and women, most in their late teens and early twenties, who may have been away from home for the first time in their lives. They had been undergoing the rigors of basic training, but had time off during the holidays. Most of them were needing not only a nice home-cooked meal, but also the comfort and refreshment of spending some time in a family setting. We would pick them up at the base and bring them home with us. We all took special care to show them God’s love and our family’s appreciation for their service to our country.”
Here’s a family ministry that lasted far longer than just the holiday season...
“We discovered ‘houseparenting’. This is where a stable couple with their children moves onto a campus of 'children's homes' and lives in a group home with the children already there and becomes their foster family. Now, this decision did not come without a lot of prayer and guidance from the Lord and was definitely a life altering choice. But, after interviewing with several Christian organizations we discovered one nearby that we truly loved. We were offered the position after they interviewed us as a family. It required giving up our home, full time job and income, lifestyle, church family and most of our furnishings and moving into a very small 3 bedroom apartment attached to the cottage which would be the foster children's home. There were twelve boys living in the eight- bedroom cottage, all under the age of 12. And so our life as a full time foster family began. Our life revolved around a daily routine of waking at 6:00 am to prepare breakfast for seventeen, dressing them all for school, getting them on the bus and off to school. There were also regular visits with doctors, dentists, therapists, psychiatrists, and family visits with the foster children’s biological parents at times. After school there were scheduled activities to attend with the boys (in which our children were also involved), which included a 4-H program on the campus and animals to tend to, basketball games, karate classes, camps and field trips. We cooked dinner together and ate at 6:00 pm followed by clean up and mandatory study hall in the campus library or around the dinner table. Then, showers and bedtime and prayers were said at each bedside. We kissed our own children good night and quickly fell asleep to begin it all again the next day.”
“This family tradition was actually started in a large Sunday school class I taught (a singles class with over 2000 members, but average attendance of about 700...fun class), but it has become a standard for my family. I found a hole in my favorite sweater one icy Sunday morning while I was getting ready for church and the class I was to teach. I threw it away almost immediately, but then felt that I should take it with me to class. I thought there might be a message in finding a hole in my seven-year-old favorite sweater. I took it to the class, talked about the inconveniences and frustrations that enter our lives and told the class that I intended to give it to a homeless person when I left the church. Then I suggested, ‘Why don't you go home and find the coats that have shrunk due to darkness in your closet, meet me at Denny's for coffee and pie, and we can take all our coats to the homeless shelter.’ That afternoon, we delivered over 75 coats to the shelter, enjoyed coffee and pecan pie together and went home to our fireplaces and football games. Now that my sons are grown and live nearby, we often call them on cold days, invite them over for coffee and pie, suggest that they find the shrunken coats, theirs and the grandchildren's, and we deliver them to the shelter.”
We can’t teach our kids about giving with just words alone. They have to see that kind of Christ-like love and be a part of it. For all the people who shared their stories, giving became real and alive. That’s what makes it attractive to our families. Start a family tradition of giving this Christmas season!
I have several friends who are graduates of the prestigious school of music at the University of North Texas. Whenever that group gets together, inevitably, they begin to swap stories about a real-life Dallas-area musician who happens to embody all the traits of the stereotypical musician’s caricature – an oblivious, vacant airhead with absolutely nothing on his mind but his music. Durwood is, indeed, a legend.
