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I’ll Stand

I’ll Stand

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I was startled to find the pastor standing over me.

This “Pastor” was not like any pastor I have ever seen before.  Dressed all in black with a demonic look, more Satan-like, he was standing on my pew near where my head laid.  He was preaching about me and drawing the attention of the congregation sitting in the pews around me.  He was mocking me and humiliating me for stretching out in the pew and falling asleep during his sermon, so I became the sermon. And pointed out to all in the room I was even using Bibles as a pillow.

 

It was about 2 a.m. and after not being able to fall asleep in my office chair, I wandered down the hallway to the sanctuary and in the dark, I picked a pew a few rows from the front and laid down.  Better, I thought, though nothing like my bed, at least I could stretch out. Without a pillow, I reached out and grabbed a couple of books, hymnals or Bibles, not sure, and put them under my head.

This is kind of creepy, I thought.  I am trying to sleep in the same place where I got married and baptized; a place where I have attended the funerals of my friends, and Donny’s funeral.

Exhausted though, I drifted off to sleep

Maybe an hour later I was awoken In the middle of my dream with the demonic, Satan-like pastor. I checked the books beneath my head to see if they were Bibles. Finding only hymnals, I felt some relief.

For the first time since before the pandemic, my church held its annual yard sale.   I have written about it before.  It is quite a large, work-intensive event and typically it requires a few of us to work all night long in preparation. On this early pre-sale morning, however, we were fairly organized and it allowed me the opportunity to try to grab a little rest.

Not sure the church pew idea was my best choice though.

 

On June 16 I got a nice early Father’s Day gift.  Hayley was asked to be the keynote speaker at the Broad Run High School Graduation.  And it was broadcast online so Kim and I could watch it from our living room.  That was probably a good thing too because I didn’t even make it through the introduction by the Principal before the tears started rolling down my face.   Hayley did an awesome job, of course using the example of her “She-roe,” Ruth Bader Ginsburg to base her message.

Life Lessons (abridged version):

  1. Empower yourself, be independent.
  2. Find a true life partner, one that loves you unconditionally.
  3. Learn to welcome debate and difference. There is nothing wrong with having difficult conversations.
  4. We should all do our part to positively change the world. Work to repair the world.

It was awesome, she did a great job, and I was very proud, but little more dehydrated by the end.

Father’s Day weekend I was home alone again.    Kim had to go up to see her mom and I had work to do here. Though we find ourselves needing to do this a lot, I don’t think you ever really get used to it.  And I will admit I was a little depressed.  I listened to Bill Ortt’s 5:00 sermon on Saturday afternoon.  Then I listened to it again.  Then I listened again.

Interestingly his message contained elements similar to Hayley’s:

“What can I do” (to make the world better).

“We do have a stewardship responsibility for the way we communicate with one another.”

“Let each of you speak the truth with your neighbor, for we are members of one another”

 

Wise messages from some wise folks.  I hope I can live up.

 

On Father’s Day of course I heard from all the kids, but it was hearing my dad wish me a “happy father’s day” on my mother’s cell phone that was the highlight of my day.  I didn’t think I was going to be able to work out talking to him but it was a nice surprise and he did pretty good.

As I mentioned at the beginning, this past weekend was my church’s yard sale which was a lot of work but a lot of fun too with some awesome people.

And today is my birthday.

I just listened to the voice mail from Kim’s 97-year-old Aunt Laferne.  Every year she calls to sing “Happy Birthday” to you.  We don’t answer on purpose because we want to save it.

And like Father’s Day, I got to talk to my dad on my mom’s cell phone again and he wished me a “Happy Birthday” and he talked about having too many boats.  I told him you can never have too many boats.

 

Tomorrow we will celebrate Cameron’s birthday, on Wednesday Kim’s birthday, on Thursday we will remember the anniversary of my brother Carl going Home, and on Friday celebrate our 22nd wedding anniversary.

A busy time.

 

Sorry for rambling a bit.

But I suppose there are some morals in the story.

Like, find a true life partner, one that loves you unconditionally.  I will celebrate that later in the week.

Welcome debate and difference but we do have a stewardship responsibility for the way we communicate with each other.

We should all do what we can to make the world better.

Never fall asleep in church.

And finally, you can never have too many boats.

 

Postscript:

The birthday crown I am wearing in the photo above was made for me by Miss Laurie, co-teacher of my BFF’s, aka the “Dreamers.”

I haven’t had a chance to read my FB but will later, thanks for the birthday wishes.

I woke up this morning with the song “In Christ Alone” in my head. The version that Alison Krauss sings with the Getty’s.  I think if ever I would imagine an angel singing it would have the voice of Alison Krauss. She sings the first verse in this version.

“Till He returns, or calls me home,

Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand”

Alexa…When Was Father’s Day?

Alexa…When Was Father’s Day?

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It’s Monday evening and the beginning of Amazon Prime night.

My wife just told me she bought me an Alexa.

“Why, I asked, “did you buy me an Alexa? I have had an Alexa (oldest daughter) for almost 35 years and she has never done anything I have asked her to do!”

“Why should this Alexa be different?”

If the first time I ask this Alexa to do something, and she squinches up her mouth and lips to one side I know I am in trouble.

Of course, I know, this Alexa doesn’t have a mouth.

I hope.

 

It’s been a while.

I have been busy.

Too busy for things like Father’s Day, birthdays, anniversaries, and especially writing.

For a brief stint I had a title again.  “Missions Coordinator,” it was fun and rewarding.

I have never been one who cared much for titles.  I was always a little self-conscious of my titles throughout my career.

The recent trend in the always creative business world with constant innovation is this desire to constantly innovate titles as well.  But I say who really wants to go to their high school reunion and when asked what you are doing now, say they are the Happiness Hero, or the Chief Executive Unicorn, or the Paranoid in Chief, or the Marketing Ninja, or the Director of Fundom?

These are all real titles…I searched.

But the world does change and we have to change with it.  We have to constantly innovate like it or not, in all aspects of our lives

I have this great ID bracelet that was given to me by one of my kids.  But it doesn’t have my name on it, it has another title I tend to go by and that’s “DAD.”

I have to admit I don’t wear it as much as I should. But on a recent weekend that I expected to be a particular tough “Dad” weekend, I busted it out and snapped it on my wrist.

Maybe I needed some super power, like putting on my cape or “to the Bat Poles,” I was now Dad Ninja, Happiness Hero Dad, Director of Fundad.

Although Paranoid in Chief Dad might have been more accurate.

 

Last year on Father’s Day I lamented about how after all these years I was still learning how to be a father.  But maybe I was being too hard on myself.

There are males out there who have fathered children but aren’t dads.

There are males out there who are active fathers but aren’t good role models.

But then there are also men out there, some even who have never fathered children, who fill a father’s role where there otherwise would be none.  And they do it honorably, deserve great respect, and are powerful role models.

I have learned that this year.  And though my report card includes some incompletes, some failures, a satisfactory or two; I might also get an exceeds expectations every now and then, so maybe I am earning a passing grade.

This past Father’s Day my buddy Jim did an awesome job filling in for the pastor at church.  In his message he made the point that fathers leave a lasting legacy and asked the question, “What will your legacy be?”

I don’t know exactly but I am still working on it.

On that same weekend that I thought I needed the dad super powers, one of my kids told me I was her best friend.  At the time the comment was made it was overshadowed by the rest of the conversation and not acknowledged.

But I heard it.

And I have remembered it

Maybe I did do something right.

 

This is my Father’s Day post for 2017 almost 4 weeks late.  I was too busy to finish it at the time.

Too busy.

It happens I guess…we get too busy.  So I guess better late than never applies.

That happens a lot when you are a Dad I think.  Fathers often get too busy.  We miss a lot.

But it’s better late than never for that as well, better to be late starting to work on that legacy than to be not at all.  And too late can apply in this case.

My head is on my pillow tonight knowing my girls are happy and they are safe.

 

It’s been about 42 hours since my wife ordered my Alexa.

It just arrived, and I just set it up.

“Alexa, can I get a cup of coffee?”

“Whatsa matter your arms broke?  Do I have Barista on my shirt?”

I know, I know this Alexa wouldn’t say that… I was just messing with you…that Alexa lives in Florida.

And besides there is no mouth, I checked.

 

 

Post Script:

Though this new Alexa is really cool, I still love my old one more.

Thankfully my kids are good sports.  That is a little part of the legacy I think.

Super Powers
On Delivering Happiness and Grit

On Delivering Happiness and Grit

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Photo of Mr. Hirsch and his dog from the WUSA 9 post
Photo of Mr. Hirsch and his dog from the WUSA 9 post

My skin is burnt from the sun.  My lips chapped, and my mouth dry from partial dehydration.  The bruises on my thighs don’t tell the real story of the pain I am feeling in my legs and feet.  I haven’t slept in over forty hours and dizziness is now setting in making my gait unstable and I stumble at times.  The strength that I relied on the last few days is now gone and I struggle to lift the most minor objects, even the fork that is now in my right hand.  The device on my wrist reminds me of the almost 90,000 steps I have taken in the last 48 hours or so.

What happened? You ask. Did you go through some kind of survival exercise?

Nope…nothing like that.

It was the church yard sale!

My daughter Hayley gave me the book Grit, the Power of Passion and Perseverance,  by Angela Duckworth for Father’s Day.  Though I haven’t finished it yet, Ms. Duckworth defines Grit as the combination of passion and perseverance.

My church’s annual yard sale is an example of grit.

Matthew 25:40: “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

Every year on this last weekend of June, a group of very passionate people, persevere through what was a grueling month of work, escalating in the days and hours leading up to and throughout the event itself; to raise money to support missions that help “the least of these brothers and sisters.”

Tony Hsieh, in his book Delivering Happiness, says that happiness is about four things:

Perceived Control

Perceived Progress

Connectedness (number of relationships and the depth of those relationships)

And, most important, being part of something bigger than yourself

I can tell you that the folks who I worked with this last month and especially these last few days have both Grit and Happiness.

 

I finally arrived home Saturday about 7 pm after being up since Friday morning at 6 am and sat down on my deck to eat the nice dinner that Savannah had made.  My neighbor came over to ask if we also had noticed the odor, the smell of a dead animal, evident from time to time in our yards.  Since I hadn’t been home in 36 hours I hadn’t really noticed it but Kim had as well.

Our yards back up to wooded area, and we have many animals that we see in out of the trees and brush fairly routinely.

A few minutes later my neighbor came back, this time visibly a little shaken and asked me to come with him,  he thought he found something suspicious in the woods behind his house.

 

Kenneth R. Hirsch, left a home on around 4:45 p.m. Tuesday in the 1400 block of Kingstream Drive around 4:45 p.m. His dog was with him. He was reported missing to authorities on Wednesday.

Police said Hirsch “may be experiencing emotional distress and be in possession of a firearm,” police said. They warned “he should not be approached.”

This was reported in the Washington Post on Friday.

 

On Saturday evening my neighbor and I found Mr. Hirsch and his dog.

Sadly, according to the police officer I spoke with, it was presumed that Mr. Hirsch took his own life and the life of his dog.

In August of 2014 after the suicide death of Robin Williams, I was reminded in my Happier, Healthier Me blog that not everyone was happy, not everyone was healthy.

Like Robin Williams, I am guessing that Mr. Hirsch didn’t have those four components of Happiness that Tony Hseih defines for us.

Unlike the physical pain I experienced this week in my quest to pursue happiness, Mr. Hirsch’s pain was different.  And at least for a moment he couldn’t control it.

And that’s all it took.

There are many around us who don’t have perceived control; who don’t feel like they are making progress; many that don’t have lots of strong relationships or friends; and aren’t part of something bigger than themselves.

They don’t have a passion for life anymore and the strength to persevere.

We need to help these brothers and sisters too.

 

 

 

Father’s Day Epilogue

Father’s Day Epilogue

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My Pop the Waterman
My Pop the Waterman

The day started out to be just as I imagined, the best Father’s Day ever.  Who would have ever thought it would end so horribly surreal.  The kids were fishing off the dock.  Suddenly one of the fishing poles dipped strongly from an obviously heavy force and the line took off.  With tremendous effort the reeling in began.

Surely this had to be some great fish.

Suddenly the beast crested the surface and came crashing down like the very sea monster I imagined it was.  Huge wings flapping and slapping the waves, its tail thrashing, it dipped back under the surface diving deep, no doubt wanting to take one of us with it.  What seemed like hours went by and now near exhaustion, the great beast was at the dock when it came crashing down on the deck.  Its huge tail swung around and I raised my foot to block it, saving the girls, but its long spear like razor sharp stinger with its poisons ripped through my skin and pierced the bottom of my foot.  Pain gripped me as the blood spurted; the gore was now evident over the freshly painted deck boards.  Now half delirious I could feel the pain creeping up my leg and into my groin.  I grabbed my six inch fishing knife and plunged it deep into the belly of the beast.  Now crab bait, I lay back exhausted and dizzy from the toxins that were raging though my blood stream.  I did the only thing I could think of, with all the strength I could muster, I screamed for help…

“MOMMY!”

Okay it didn’t exactly happen like that.

Now sitting on the steps of my parent’s deck, my mother was spraying peroxide on the puncture wound in the bottom of my foot.

My wife was busy sweeping grass off the deck.  You see when you are from western Pennsylvania these sorts of things seem trivial.  “No Blood, No Bones, don’t bother me” is what my wife always says.  My brother in law once cut off the end of his finger while milking cows.  He placed the severed finger piece on the window sill and finished milking the cows.  It was only after he went home and the family asked where his finger was that he went back to barn picked it up and had it sewed back on.  That’s grit.

I am not that tough.  I am from the Jersey Shore.  We have Boo-Boos in New Jersey.

The real story is Savannah caught a small skate.  While trying to get the hook out of its mouth, it wacked the bottom of my foot with its tail.  Skates, even small ones,  have this razor sharp defense mechanism in their tails.  So after my mother patched me up, the pain did get a bit unbearable and started traveling up my leg.   My wife drove me to the Your Doc’s In Urgent Care in Cambridge Maryland where they were very concerned and took very good care to relieve the pain and ward off infection.

Savannah Holding the Great Beast
Savannah Holding the Great Beast

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Mom administering First Aid while Kim sweeps
My Mom administering First Aid while Kim sweeps

 

 

 

 

 

 

Me Soaking at the Your Doc's In
Me Soaking at the Your Doc’s In

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So today I am home as advised, soaking and elevating and will have the local Patient First take one more peek at it, also as advised, later today.

And though I lost three hours in the middle of the day yesterday it surely was the Father’s Day weekend I will always remember, and that memory won’t have anything to do with that skate.

Hope you all had as good a Father’s Day as I did.

My Dad with Alexa and his newest great grandchild Christian on the best Father's Day ever
My Dad with Alexa and his newest great grandchild Christian on the best Father’s Day ever

 

 

Oh Daddy

Oh Daddy

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Me and my Pops
Me and my Pops

Oh Daddy

If I could make you see,

If there’s been a fool around,

It’s got to be me.

Why are you right when I’m so wrong,

I’m so weak but you’re so strong,

Everything you do is just all right

(Christine McVie)

 

Yeah right.  Can you imagine one of your kids singing that to you?

The Shore Regional High School Class of 1974 yearbook was called the Voyager.  Towards the end of the Voyager was a section that may be all yearbooks contain, I don’t know; but it listed a couple of personal characteristics and predicted your status in ten years.  It was the Is/Can Be Found/Status in 1984 section. Well at least in my case it was 1984, but you are probably familiar.

Mine went like this:

Christiansen, Curtis

Is: Reliable?

Can be Found:  Playing his harmonica

Status in 1984: Daddy

I remember at the time, I wasn’t so sure I liked the Reliable with the question mark tag. But now I acknowledge my ADD tendencies and totally understand.

I thought that the Playing the harmonica was cool.  I still do a little of that.

I particularly liked the Status in 1984: Daddy.  You see I was looking forward to being a father.  I thought at the time, I would make a good one.

I recently read the autobiography of Mick Fleetwood, titled Play On.

In fact I read it twice.

I have always been a big Fleetwood Mac fan.  Most people are familiar with Fleetwood Mac from the Rumours album, the one that featured the song “Oh Daddy” written by Christine McVie.

I found myself drawn to this book and his story because I found many parallels to my life; the music I remembered; the sixties and seventies and everything good and bad that went along with that; family struggles; raising kids; raising girls.

But there was another thing I thought interesting, he admitted to feeling that he was never particularly good at anything.

That’s interesting because I have always felt that same way about myself.  I have always felt that I was never particularly good at anything either!

In just a little over a week I will turn sixty years old.  And just as my yearbook had predicted, in 1984 I was a Daddy.  I became a father in November of 1982.

You would expect that by my age I would have had the opportunity and the ability to be really good at something. You might expect, for instance, with that many years of parenting experience I would at least be good at that.  Good at being a father.  But the truth is everyday continues to be a learning experience, some days with struggles; some days with victories, others with regrets; but inevitably there is that nagging doubt and the thought that I could have done better, I should have done better, or I should be doing better.

I once thought the best thing I could teach my kids was how important it was to work hard; working hard no matter what the job.

I had always felt that way and lived that way, I have no guilt there.  But I have learned,  maybe too late in life, that working hard wasn’t the most important thing after all.

Because now I realize the most important thing in life is learning.  And I know now that I should have spent less time at working hard and more time at learning and growing.  Maybe if I had done that I would have had something I was good at by now.

And if I had worked less  I could have spent more time with my kids growing up and as a result, I would have been more prepared for changes in their lives and changes in mine that I didn’t foresee or expect.

This Father’s Day is special because I get to spend it with all my kids and my Dad gets to meet his newest great grandson for the first time.

This Father’s Day is also special because I also get to spend it with my Dad.  There was a time when I wouldn’t have been able to sing those Oh Daddy lyrics to my father either. But I could now.  So maybe I have learned one thing, how to be a better son.

Maybe that will make me a better father too.

And maybe my prophetic classmates were more right than I would like to admit.  Maybe there are some aspects of my life I can be more reliable at.

And I don’t mean playing the harmonica.

In the mean time I will keep trying and keep learning.

Oh Daddy,

You soothe me with your smile

You’re letting me know,

You’re the best thing in my life

 

Happy Father’s Day Pop!