This post will be short because I’m proving a point to someone. I’ve been watching Friday Night Lights lately on Netflix and Hulu. (Disclosure: This is not a family show. Many of the issues they address are for an adult audience. I am an adult, and so I’ve made that choice for myself.)

This show has rough edges but always celebrates the noble, the good, and the right.

Most of all, I’ve come to one major conclusion: Our world would be a lot better place if a few good men would sign up to coach a bunch of boys who need them. In Friday Night Lights they call Coach Taylor the “King Maker.” You could be one, too.

There is this debate that happens when it’s been too long since I’ve posted. For every day that goes by without a new post, the invisible pressure builds for THIS post to be amazing. The debate is whether to stay up too late crafting something amazing or to write nothing at all so none of my ordinary is over-exposed. But I’m learning how to resist this particular kind of pressure, so I’m writing a post that will not blow your mind or challenge your soul. I just want to catch you up.

First of all, we had a week. Whew. Our church hosts a huge Open House on the Fourth of July and it takes about every ounce of everything I have to do my little part. In the midst of that, Claire had a tummy bug along with strep throat.

Then Ada and Macy had it. I wrote in my Facebook status that one of the only times I am ever tempted to wish I had fewer children is when the tummy bug is going through the house. (And you think I’m joking.) What is it about that particular illness that makes me feel so crazy? I think it’s the sleep thing – like those nights with a newborn when you went to bed sad just knowing how much beautiful sleep you were probably going to miss. The anticipation is almost worse than the actual night.

But we survived.

A beautiful highlight of the week was Wednesday evening’s baptism at the lake. Jesse was one of several kids to take part. I love the look on his face in this picture Molly took from the beach. (If you click the photo, you can get a better view.) Sometimes you wonder if you’re doing enough to teach your kids about God and other times it just seems like you might be on the right track even in your stumbling.

The rest of the week was full of the usual business of school and work. A couple of nights at home made up for the many out late the week before. The cadence slowed to normal again and we rediscovered each other. Ordinary wonderful, you might say. We’ve been busy catching up.

I’m re-posting this from September 2007. I need to practice humility today and reminding myself of my own words seems an appropriate method.

If you haven’t seen it already, go here and read a beautiful article about Mister Rogers and the way he showed us all the love and presence of God.

I grew up watching Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood – which, by the way, still airs on PBS and has a cool website if you are feeling nostalgic. Most of the lessons I learned from the show I couldn’t have put into words on my own. I just remember feeling at home when I watched; I remember feeling comforted and loved.

In this Huffington Post article, Eliot Daley, a friend and colleague of Mister Rogers, explains why we felt that way. Basically, because that’s how Mister Rogers wanted it. Daley shows how Mister Rogers made specific choices in order to make us feel loved and special.

1. He never addressed us as a plural crowd of TV watchers. Instead, he looked right into the camera and asked, “How are you?” and waited for an answer.

2. He rarely had other children on the show. Most of the interaction was between Mister Rogers, other adults, and various puppets. Mister Rogers didn’t want the children watching to feel that they had to compete for his attention.

No wonder that man owned us for 30 minutes every day!

The rest of Daley’s insights are well worth the few minutes it will take you to read it. Enjoy.

And think about how God makes you feel special or how you can show someone in your life the same kind of focused attention today. Be a good neighbor.

*photo thanks to waffledawg on Flickr

On the evening before the new school year opened, we asked each of the kids if they would share with us two things we could pray about for them during the next day. Their requests were full of the usual kid-sized pleas for obedience, fun, and good-ness.

Macy contributed an honest, “About being shy?” I didn’t know she was even aware of that as something to be overcome. She’s four years old. Since she’s come home both days with a grin from ear to ear and bouncing non-stop until bedtime, I’d say things are working out for her.

Jesse’s request was also general but genuine, “Just nervous about everything, I guess.” I didn’t think 5th grade would be much of a concern to him, but he’s expressed that thought more than once in the last few weeks.

Imagine my joy, then, when he came home after the first day full of hope and excitement. His teacher has given their room a Monopoly theme complete with locally named properties and special prizes (including a chance at a private plane ride). Jesse was all smiles. Every fear dissipated. My little boy back. At least for now.

If it’s possible, I feel even more thankful when someone takes care of my children than when they do something for me.

I suppose it’s similar for God. Bless mine, He says, and you bless me.

*Note about school: We’re year-rounders here. We get a three week break when it is time to switch grade levels (most of June) and then we’re back at it. We also get a one-week break about every six weeks, including extra time at Christmas. Just wanted to make sure you knew this wasn’t a re-post from last fall!

*Note about photo: That’s Jesse swinging on an artificial vine in the Jungle exhibit at the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha, NE.

more from PRODIGAL GOD

The message of great grace in Keller’s book was a reminder of freedom for me. In the parable of the prodigal son (or, as Keller points out, in the parable in which Jesus begins, “There was once a father . . . .”, indicating the true protagonist in the narrative), I relate most to the elder brother. I have mistakenly believed that doing good, being right, and working hard would earn me favor with God. I would have told you this was not true, but I would have been lying (even to myself).

The true message of the gospel is extravagant love, forgiveness, sacrifice, and reconciliation. I’m a part of that story and completely on the receiving end – so are you. So as I fight my moralistic, man-pleasing tendencies, I wonder if my focus here on this blog is wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t point out ways to become more spiritually disciplined. Maybe I’m just busy making more older brothers like me.

I don’t want to do that because I believe there is a feast that awaits us and all we have to do is walk through the doors. So I don’t want to distract you (or me) with ideas about washing garments or hands or faces. I just want us to see how wonderful Father is and want to be with Him at the feast no matter what. I want to inspire worship, not create more reasons for you to feel guilty.

Is this blog was too focused on elder brother ideas? With all my talk of humility and making good choices, am I leading you into the ditch of religion?

One section of Keller’s text focuses on the materialistic nature of salvation – the way God really is interested in this material world and its restoration. Keller’s prime example: most of Jesus’ miracles are about the restoration of the way things ought to be in this world he created – disease doesn’t belong and death has to go. He cares about our world.

So how is it not a works mentality when Jesus tells his followers that on the judgement day we’ll be asked if we have fed, clothed, and sheltered those in need?

He is not saying that only the social workers get into heaven. Rather, he is saying that the inevitable sign that you know you are a sinner saved by sheer, costly grace is a sensitive social conscience and a life poured out in deeds of service to the poor. Younger brothers are too selfish and elder brothers are too self-righteous to care for the poor.

This reminds me that the answer is really about my focus. I’m not going to get into heaven because I was spiritually disciplined, but, I desire spiritual discipline because I’m going to heaven. The focus is my relationship with Him – and the way that relationship changes my perspectives, my actions, and my purposes in this life.

Still sounds like a Rare Rock to me! What do you think?

Riding home yesterday from Claire’s check-up with her surgeon, I realized I’m becoming something of an expert at living with a child with mild cerebral palsy. For eight years now I have sat in small exam rooms while an information laden physician sits across from me on a short padded stool reviewing the most recent research on spasticity, high tone, dystonia, contracture, and other vocabulary words specific to Claire’s condition.

When I was dreaming of careers or areas of life I’d like to know more about as a young person, I don’t remember having cerebral palsy on that list. But eight years ago it took a place at the top when Claire was born prematurely and we were almost guaranteed at least some form of CP in our future.

Now here I am. It is so common to me, I often forget about her special needs until I see a struggle in her that the other girls don’t face or someone asks a question about why she walks the way she walks.

Last night at her tee-ball game, which we had rushed home (St. Louis is a three hour drive) to make, she was stopping grounders better than ever before. In the doctor’s office that day I had just mentioned her perseverance and love for the sport despite the fact that it was difficult for her to catch  with the mitt on her sluggish left hand. She has a way of defying me. As I inspected further, I realized she was using her strong right hand to literally pull down on her mitted left hand, forcing it to the ground in front of the softball rolling her way. She thought of that herself. I had decided she was just going to have to get used the ball rolling through her legs. She wasn’t ready to accept that.

Welcome to my world with Claire. Every time I think we’ve finally reached something she will have to give up, she proves me wrong. I thought Claire gave up dancing here – three years ago – and now we’re here – still at it!

So this is just one of the areas that I’ve become an unplanned expert. Others include leading kids in worship (from volunteering to lead songs when my son was a preschooler), spiritual disciplines (from taking over an orphaned course from a departing instructor), and hobby flower gardening (I don’t know where that one came from!).

How about you? Are you an unexpected expert in something? Do you think we have the responsibility to share our wealth of knowledge now or is this just the way life goes?

*Photo note: This is from last year’s season. This year I worked as an assistant coach (I’m good at bossing little girls around and bribing them to stay out of the dirt!) and there was NO TIME to get out the camera. Notice Claire is running right out of her shoe . . . that about sums up life with that girl! : )