In the mirror in my child's eyes.

It was a typical Sunday evening and I was standing in the back of the church building when, of all things, my posture was called into question. My wife said, "stop and look at yourself." Not quite sure where this discourse was heading I said the only reasonable thing I could, "what are you talking about?"  "You standing their with your hands on your hips - you son does the exact same thing."  Sure enough she was right, my odd way of standing had been adopted by my 6 year old son.

Some of the traits we pass on to our children are relatively harmless, while others are not. There is  no greater grief in my life than seeing my children adopt a negative behavior that I know they learned from me. Nothing brings me to my knees quicker, or humbles me more thoroughly than this.

This week I was competing in a tennis match when my opponent started to share some of his own heartaches about his children and grand-children. All in all he described 3 generations of addicts in his family. His conclusion was that his family was genetically pre-disposed to addictive behavior. I wanted to ask about the enviroment and pattern of behavior that had been prevelant in his family tree, but it wasn't the kind of discussion you had between points or at the change-over of sides.

Maybe there is some biological, or genetic tendency towards certain behaviors, but I am convinced that most of our behaviors are taught and learned. Our children are watching us, and waiting for us to lead them. They prefer we lead by example - that we demonstrate the qualities and characteristics we deem so important in their lives. There are however times when we must bridge the gap of our own sins and failings and demand that our children rise above the "sins of the father."

Sometimes it is hard to look in the mirror of my child's eyes. It reminds me of how much is at stake. Father give me strength to teach by word and example the lessons my children need to learn.

Push Ups & Porches

It was a beautiful day today.  Blue sky's, temperatures in the low 80's with a soft breeze blowing just enought to keep things cooled down. After a back and forth tennis match, a leisurely lunch on the patio at Tito's I decided it was time to brush the dust off Scarlett and take her for a ride.

Rides through the country always remind me of what a great job we do of complicating our lives. Overcrowded malls, cell phones, and simply putting too many things on our agenda to stop and enjoy life. Today I treated myself to a simple pleasure from my childhood.

I stopped at the Bethesda market. Just another small town market, except that it had a small game processing center. The coolest part of stopping for a few minutes was the extra long church pew sitting on the front porch and an orange push up I purchased for 49 cents.  That's Right - 49 cents for a push up.

So I sat on the porch enjoying my push up as the locals drifted in and out over the next 30 minutes. 7 pickup trucks, two ghetto cruisers and one "project car." By project car I mean a vehicle that looked like it was assembled at the Goodwill. Bumpers from one vehicle and quarter panels from another. There was a blue door and a red door with patches of bondo spread strategically along the sides.

I struggle with understanding why we make life so difficult. A lot of it has to do with "STUFF." We covet stuff, we work longer hours to accumulate stuff and then we have garage sales to get rid of stuff.  Just give me a push up and a peaceful Saturday afternoon and I am a happy man.

It's all about me

"It's all about me!" What are the first thoughts that come into your head when you hear that phrase. Is it the self-absorbed teenage girl depicted on most of today's sitcoms, or someone in your office who has the mistaken idea that they are at the center of the universe?

For just a minute I want to throw a positive spin on focusing on yourself. What if it's all about me = personal responsibility. If I want to get ahead in this world, make a difference, or leave a legacy then it's all about me. I can no longer blame my boss, my spouse or some cosmic forces in the universe for the bad things that happen, or my inability to transcend adversity.

Let me give you a simple example most of us can understand. I want to lose some weight and get in better shape this year. I have used all the excuses most common to the failed dieter. "I am too busy to exercise" or "we keep too much junk food in the house" or "I don't get any support from my friends and family." No, it falls on me. I have plenty of time for my favorite television shows. It is possible to push away from the table, or avoid the pantry at 1:00 AM and my weight and health are my responsibility. Help and encouragement are great, but I can't use others as a crutch for my own failure to act.

I am going to try an experiment this week and see what happens. This week it's all about me!  It's about the decisions I make, the choices in life, and the discipline to put best before better and better before good. It is a very busy week and I have more to accomplish than I care to think about, but I am committed to make this week all about me and take responsibility for whatever comes my way.

No Regrets - Really!

The last few weeks have been extremely busy, a little stressful and filled with more than a few "deja vu" moments. As my 52nd birthday rushes upon me I think about a common, rather flippant statement that we sometimes make, "I have no regrets."  REALLY!  Come on now, no regrets - none?

I understand the person who says, I have no regrets because all the circumstances of my life have made me the person I am today, but I don't completely buy it either. I have regrets!  People that I hurt through thoughtless, selfish actions - I deeply regret those moments and decisions. Choices I made that stunted my spiritual and emotional development - those are things I would certainly do differently. Relationships that I took for granted, or damaged because I wasn't the man that I needed to be - all those things I deeply regret.

Now the flip side of all that is "what have I learned to make me a better person? I firmly believe that our mistakes, missteps and transgressions can serve as a catalyst to a better, more meaningful life. Regrets don't have to cripple us. No matter how henious, vile, or base the actions of my past may have been - God offers us redemption. Not only redemption from sin, but a redemption that frees us to be something better, someone who can make a difference.

We often forget that the apostle Paul (Saul of Tarsus), was the sworn enemy of the church, that he persecuted Christians and consented to their torture and death. I imagine he had more than a few regret, but look what he made of his life.

Regrets - yes, I have a few, but the possibilities for the future - Limitless.

Fried Baloney Sandwiches

Sometimes while watching the evening news I stop and ask myself "What's happening to America?" Political corruption, moral decadancy and religious apathy. It is enough to make even the most optimistic person turn to Prozac and Paxil.

It is during those times I thank God for motorcycles, backroads and rural Americana. Today was one of those days. Sunny with temperatures nearing 70 degrees and a good stretch of open road. Without traveling anymore than 25 miles from my home I was blessed to encounter the real America, the America that rarely appears on the CNN or even FOX news. Let me share it with you.

It started with a short ride out the backroads to Pucket's Grocery in Lieper's Fork, TN. As I arrived there were two telling signs that America is still strong: 1) There was this old guy sitting on the bed of his pick-up truck selling hand-carved walking canes and 2) there must have been 75 motorcycles parked 1/4 mile on either side of Pucketts. While this lifted my heart the real treat was going into Pucketts and deciding what to eat. It wasn't easy with fresh barbeque, fried okra, sweet potato fries and homemade biscuits, but I opted for an all-time favorite, a fried baloney sandwich and IBC root beer. Yes, I spelled baloney correctly. This is America and that thick, fat slice of meat containing all the questionable parts of a hog sizzled and popped in that wrought iron skillet while the smell permeated my senses.

After leaving Puckett's Grocery, I headed down the Natchez Trace Pkwy to Fly, TN. Now for anyone who truly wants to return to America the way it is supposed to be, you have to stop in Fly. First there is the Fly cemetery and you better not miss the Fly Grocery (pictured to your left). I thought I had been sent back in time to the days of my youth. Ice cold Coca Cola (yes so cold bits of ice where forming in the bottle), a cash register from another era and the crippled old man that must have walked back and forth between the register and counter 10 times before completing one transaction.

My favorite part of the trip was short trek from Fly to Santa Fe. I decided to get as far off the beaten path as I could. Uncertain as to where the roads would take me I simply decided to go east, then south, east, then south until I once again hit civilization (truth is - civilization is what I was experiencing on those lost roads).

Not far out of Fly I passed  Bobby's Beer Stop. Bobby's was nothing more than an old single-wide trailer with a bunch of good-ole boys sitting on the porch throwing back their brews. Hard to tell while doing a drive by, but it looked like a group of locals (no one else could find this spot), enjoying the sunshine and swapping lies.  Somewhere between Fly and Santa Fe was a real display of American entrepreneurship. Creativity that couldn't be matched by Bill Gates, Steve Jobs and Fred Smith combined. Where else in the world would you find Jones Goat Farm and Hair Salon. I am not sure if they shampooed, styled and colored goat's hair, or if you could order fried goat cheese while Betty Lou was doing your tease and comb.

I wasn't more than 15 minutes from home when the last vestage of soveriegn America was unvieled - the Maury County Coon Hunters Club. Like I said, it was a good day in America. If I can find these little treasures of America's past just outside my own back door - imagine what is hiding in the hills and holers across the continent. Do yourself a favor - take a day, or even an afternoon and soak up the riches America still has to offer.

Turn up the radio . . .

It was an  open air pavillion in an unobscure village in Nigeria. I could hear a small generator running out back and the speakers cracking and popping as they prepared for the service that evening Then, with a deafening assualt on my ears the speakers began to blair the message at sound decibles that would rival any rock concert I had ever attended.

My limited understanding of mixers, microphones and public address systems was more than adequete training to know that my African brethren were seeking maximum auditory exposure. Yes, every villager within a 50 mile radius of Ukpom was going to hear the message of the evening whether they had planned to or not.

With churches here in the United States using fancing mixing boards and state-of-the-art sound and video systems, this may seem like odd behavior - at least I thought so until I arrived home. There in solice of my suburban home was the stateside equivalent of an African sound system - teenage girls blaring Justin Beiber at volumes that resonated against the windows of my nearest neighbors. Listening over and over again to "baby, baby" at volumes that would make a rattlesnake retreat had me longing for a 3 hour sermon in any remote village on the continent of Africa.

At 51 I am suffering from progressive hearing lost after years of Bob Seger, Led Zeppelin and the Who. Now as I enter the the golden years of life, I have become my parents - railing against the obnoxiously loud pop icons and girls who talk at a pitch and volume that would shatter a champagne glass.

How easy it is for us to criticize other cultures - I am sure that visitors to my home would return to their native lands with stories that would shock and amaze their peers.

A silent cry for help.

All too often I read through the prayer requests at church with just a cursory glance. I see the emails come across my desk, or posts on Facebook and don't really stop to pray like I should. I have such great respect for those people who are open enough to share their struggles and ask friends and family to lift them up before God's altar of grace.

I wonder for every person who verbalizes their struggles how many more are repressing thier silent cries for help. We put on our Sunday go-to-meeting smile along with our sportscoat and tell the world, "I'm fine!" Slowly and deliberately a cancer is eating away at the bone and marrow of our spirits. I think Thoreau was right when he said, "Most men live lives of quiet desparation and go to their graves with their song still in them."

I have my own moments of despair. There are times I feel that the road I am traveling has a dead end sign just ahead, but that is not my greatest fear in life. Most of us want to leave a legacy! We want to do something that will make a difference. It might be money, or power, or serving AIDs victims and malnutrioned children in Africa, but we want know that our stroll along the sands of time has some significant meaning.

I know what I want out of life. It's not a big house or a fancy car. I don't count my success by the number of digits in my retirement account. I want more than anything else for my children to find the song that is within them. I pray that their unique gifts that God has given will rise to the surface and bless their lives and the lives of others.

Starting Over - Day 2

Yesterday, one of the readers of my blog made a great point concerning how others often interfere with our efforts to to move forward in our lives. We all mess up, we all make mistakes, and sometimes those actions impact others. Despite our best efforts to repent, ask forgiveness or seek reconciliation, some people refuse to allow us to a second chance.

It is truly tragic when others carry these large invisitble sacks around filled with all the sins, failings and mistakes that others have made. Whenever we trip or stumble, they reach deep down in their sack and provide us a running history of everything we have ever done wrong. This mean-spirited approach to life is tragic for two reasons: 1) I have a hard enough time with the guilt, shame and challenges of getting past the mistakes in my own life; 2) I can't imagine adding to that burden by keeping a ledger of everyone else's failings. What a truly miserable existence.

So, how do we deal with mean-spirited folks who would hinder our spiritual growth, put obstacles in our way as we try to navigate forward through life? It is easy to say ignore them, don't pay attention to their rants, but some folks seem to get great joy out of making our lives difficult. It feels as though all their anger and vitriol is being directed only at us. For what is worth, here are a few suggestions:

1. Pray for them. Yes, I know it is hard, but praying has a calming emotional affect on our spirits and it also changes things. God can and will intercede when nothing else seems to be working.
2. Try to understand why. What is it in the person's life, or past that makes them so hateful? Sometimes knowing the facts provides us a greater capacity to excercise grace and forgiveness towards that person.
3. Remember people only have as much control as we allow them to have. When you get hurt, angry, and bitter because of another's actions - you are turning control of your emotions over to those who care the least for you. Personally, I don't want my "enemies" to have that kind of power over my attempts to live victoriously.

So, here we are at the crossroads of another day. Someone is just waiting to rain on your parade, pour salt in an old wound, or tell you that your Pollyanna approach to life is naive and foolish. Its up to you how much control you will cede to that person.

Carpe Diem!

Starting Over - Day by Day

On this Valentine's Day I am reminded that my mom and my wife had at least one thing in common, they both love feel-good, happy-ending, Hallmark movie classics. One of my mom's favorites was the Anne of Green Gables series and I always remember her quoting Anne, "today is new and fresh with no mistakes in it."

As I begin this beautiful Valentine's Day morning I am reminded that I have been given stewardship over today. I have more than my share of mistakes and failures in days past and I have an almost limitless number of opportunities for the future. Just for today I have the chance to live life to the fullest, to accomplish great things, the opportunity to change a life, help a friend, or just spend that important time with family that I so often neglect.

Chances are there will still be things that slip through my grasp today. Tasks, goals or objectives that go unfinished, opportunities that might be missed, or stupid mistakes made along the way. The beauty is that tomorrow I get to start over once again.

All too often we let the failures of yesterday have a negative impact on our ability to pursue our goals today. Here are a few simple rules to start each day "fresh and new with no mistakes in it."

• Ask God for forgiveness - then forgive yourself. Don't allow Satan to hold you hostage because of past sins.
• Make reconciliation with those you are at odds with. Most of our differences can be resolved if we humbly seek to pursue the path of peace.
• Pick a goal or objective that has been sitting idle and get busy. If you want to write a book, write a few pages today. If you want to lose weight, cut back on your calories.
• Take small steps each day. You don't accomplish most of your goals all at once - take small steps and it will amaze you how quickly you will make progress.

God has given you a fresh lease on life today - take advantage of it.

Handwriting on the wall

In Daniel 5, King Belshazzar throws a feast in his own honor. In the process of exalting himself and defiling the gold and silver goblets from the house of God, he sees some unusual handwriting on the wall. The interpretation basically means, "you have been weighed in the balance and found wanting..."

I think it is time for more than a few parents to read the handwriting on the wall. Not the palace wall, but their children's Facebook wall. I believe if they did many would find the friends, comments and moral conduct of their children, "to be found wanting." I realize these are harsh words, but in reviewing our own children's friends lists, we were shocked by some of the things we observed - let me share a few with you.

1. Course, crude and at times extremely foul language. In many instances I was shocked that it wasn't just language posted on their wall by others (that had not been removed), but some of our Christian friends language in commenting on others pages, pictures and posts.
2. Immodest conduct. This could fall into a number of categories, but it includes pictures of young people at what appears to be wild parties with drinking and questionable conduct and less than modest attire. On more than one occasion my wife has commented, my child would be in hot water if they were parading around like that in public. (Not to say ours are perfect by any stretch, but Facebook allows us to monitor friends, attire and behavior when our children are away from home). You can always count on one of your kid's friends to post the most immodest pictures or comments.

What do I expect to accomplish with this post?

• There will be those who scrutinize my kids pages to find some fault in them. Mine are not perfect, but if you find unChristian content - let us know and we will deal with it.
• I imagine a lot of the kids who are friends of my kids will block us from their pages. Before you do realize, we have a rule at our house - "if you block the parents, you get taken off our kids pages." We want to know what is going on in our kids lives, and that includes the company they keep (online and off).
• Some parents will take the time to look at their kids pages and then sit down and have a serious conversation about appearances. If this is just 1 in a 100 then I consider this post to be a success.

So, have you read the handwriting on the wall - your kid's wall. It will tell you a lot about who they are hanging with, what is influencing their lives and what is going on when they think you aren't looking.

Trent Wheeler