Here is a concept I have pondered for a week or two. In the
Prior to meeting my bride, I had a CONCEPT of WHO I WANTED a WIFE TO BE. I wrote a list of all the qualities I wanted in a woman then sacrificed it in flames of fire (literally put match to paper in the kitchen sink). Within the year, I met a woman and discovered the treasured lady who would be my wife. God blessed me with a crown and I fell in LOVE with my bride! Somewhere during the past 13-14 years, I made another sacrifice. I chose to tear down a mental idol of the unknown woman...the person of my imagination...and receive GAYLE! This choice goes way beyond mere tolerance for another human being. It involves surrendering my idea of a wife to the marriage Master...who engages my life with Gayle.
I must make a disclaimer. I am pleased with Gayle. She is great in many ways. Gayle respects me as a man. Gayle honors me with acts of service every day. Gayle is dedicated to mother our four children. Gayle feeds families in need. Gayle sees a plot of earth where she would like a garden, and she works it to produce vegetables. Gayle frugally furnishes our bodies and home. Gayle reaps $100 of groceries from a $50 budget. Gayle turns junk into profit. Gayle is practical. Gayle focuses on the present. Gayle makes marriage and family top priorities. Gayle loves God. Gayle could earn a paycheck working for another man, but she chooses volunteer service to a small home school and small business owner. Gayle is real. Gayle is beautiful. Gayle’s spirit is jovial, jolly, joyful, Jesus first, jesting, and jealous for us. While it is a daily mind battle in the midst of a flesh flaunting, media rapid, idol-worshipping culture...I choose Gayle, hands down!
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I've been chewing on a fundamental idea for over a week. My wife is special to me. While this may not seem like an earthquake or a storm...it is the battle in my mind. The truth is, Gayle is more precious to me today than when I said "I do" to the promise of forsaking all others...in sickness and health...for richer or poorer...on December 10, 1994. WE are the most important relationship on the planet...to US. So, I've been reminding myself that I selected a woman who was special in my eyes. I've starting intentionally making specific little compliments and small actions to let her know she's my lady. I hope I'm sending a clear message to her.
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As a reasonable man, sensible enough to be married to one woman for almost 14 years, I highly recommend the book, How To Love Your Wife, written by John Buri, PhD. I feel as if Dr. Buri wrote especially to me. In fact, his style is like listening to a friend. His research is sound. His guidance hits the bulls-eye! If you are married man, then BUY IT! If you are contemplating marriage, BUY IT NOW. If you are one of the first two guys but are unable to invest the money in this treasure, then write to me. Over the six weeks, or so, I will be exploring the content again and writing about what I’m gleaning from this man, husband, father, grand-father, doctor, and teacher. Please, join me on my journey!
About the Author
John Buri received his PhD. in Cognitive Psychology from
About the Book
Some people have suggested that a successful marriage requires tremendous insight to understand super-human effort to achieve. Others contend that happy marriages are the purview of a lucky few. In this ground-breaking book, How to Love Your Wife, Dr. John Buri makes it clear he doesn't agree: thriving marriages can actually be achieved through sensible effort by reasonable people. But because the majority of marriages in this country consist of unions in which wives are more heavily invested in marital success than are their husbands, much of this sensible effort by reasonable people needs to be consistently initiated and maintained by men. In fact, men often hold the keys to bringing about the type of loving marriage they had hoped for when they first said, "I do." In How to Love Your Wife, Dr. Buri makes these keys clear, understandable, and accessible.
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Two comments caused me to pull the cover off my typewriter, ink the keys, and type again.
The most recent untitled comment posted by natomicbomb on August 19. This welcome commentator served as a gentle reminder that I haven't blogged for almost a year! The writer encouraged me to type. His heartfelt enthusiasm warmed me up to this moment. Nathan wrote, “I love your blog Chris!!! Keep writing!!!” Thanks Nathan. Let's calculate. If I continued writing one paragraph each year until my age maxed out, then by the time I finished one personal essay, my friend Nate would be 93!
I may not be a consistent blogger, but I do write every day. I just don't post my thoughts in cyberspace for y'all to see. This is merely my procrastinator protagonist promoting personal preservation...oops, another week-gone bye. O bother. Let me justify my inaction for another 60 seconds...
I am on a journey. I write my progress throughout the day. In fact, my journal is more important to me than underwear and socks (let’s not talk about that now…). I recap personal history to bless the past. I write conversations with God. I plan projects in writing. I ink ideas about the future. I make my top six-task list. I record what I did. I list what I want to do tomorrow, this week, this month, this quarter, this year, next year, and beyond. I type correspondence for personal and business purposes. I write research papers on my critical functions and tasks. I carve archaic words on stone tablets with a rock attempting to understand good news to modern man...the point I’m justifying is...yeah, I’m still a writer even if I haven't gone public in almost 51 weeks.
Some of my favorite writing is friendly correspondence. During this past week, I have sent and received a dozen or so letters to reconnect with high school classmates. It's been around twenty years since I turned the tassel, received my secondary education diploma, said "See ya!" commencing to the next season without looking back.
Frankly, brief electronic correspondence energizes me. I like to talk back and forth by e-mail. We are so fortunate to have such an efficient communication tool! I can hack out a paragraph, get an editor to review my grammar and spelling, update the draft, send it to your mailbox, and the postal carrier let's me know when it’s been delivered. If you will, you can tell the courier to let me know when you read it! Dude, this is better than writing to my 6th grade pen Pal.
Speaking of a pen Pal reminds me of the second comment that prompted me to post this entry. On July 18, 2008, Anonymous wrote "Great discussion!!! A great book for married men is "How to Love Your Wife" by Dr. John Buri. It changed my life!!" I performed a level of due-diligence on the author and his work; then asked my wife to order a copy of Dr. Buri's book for me. By
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In middle class
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Friday, August 10, 2007 I received this comment from an Anonymous writer, "So from a man's perspective- what's good about being married? What qualities do you appreciate in your wife? What do you do to make it work?"
“What’s good[1] about being married?”
Being alone is not good for me. As a solo man, I had friendships. But at the end of the day, I was alone. Remaining celibate to devote my life 100% to God’s Kingdom just was not a paradigm I held. When God gave me Gayle, I received a very special gift. Our marriage gives me a unique purpose. There is an exclusive authority to protect and provide for my bride. On our wedding day, December 10, 1994, I left my dad(s) and mom to stick like superglue to Gayle. Since then, I have experienced a mysterious unity. It is more than physical intimacy and multiplication; there is a dynamic between one man and one woman beyond two human beings…I am the husbandman of a vintage
“What qualities do you appreciate in your wife?”
- Gayle is the most serving person in my world. Specifically: coffee; mani/pedi; laundry; mowing the lawn; stinky pooh-poohs; pee-pee; cleaning the three bathrooms; bathing little bodies; breakfast, lunch, dinner & snacks for six people approximately 7,956 times; “Mommy, Mawmeeee, MOMMY, Maw' uhhm” filing paperwork, listening, maintaining eye contact while mentally multi-tasking about the next post, the Costco list and…”when will this guy shut up and leave me alone?!? I’ve been jabbered at all day long”;
- Gayle is discerning. If I had understood this distinguished characteristic in her at various times during the past 4,622 days, then I would have saved us both some Ache’n.
- Proverbs 5:19
- Gayle shops at Kid’s Resale, estate and garage sales, Goodwill, discount stores,
- Our Family HOME is a major priority.
- Gayle follows my leadership.
- Gayle speaks with blunt honesty. I know where I stand with her. Sometimes I’m in the dog house standing in my own pooh-pooh, other times I’m in the winner’s circle with her gold medallion around my Olympic jersey, most of the time I walk humbly with my God.
- Gayle has deeply held feelings about us, providing a lifestyle of learning for our children, family, fun, friendship, GOD, books, our home, me (sometimes her feelings about me are ‘eject this guy outta my Suburban’)
- Gayle wants to try to attempt to understand how to respect me
- Gayle honors her father and mother.
- Gayle loves God with her life…she is NOT involved with dead religious traditions; she IS a woman of faith.
- Gayle is concerned about the present.
- Gayle is skillful with her hands. She makes home furnishings, clothes, apple pie, puffed pancakes, delicious meals, gift cards and other creative stuff.
- Gayle believes in marriage and family
- Gayle is a very good writer.
- Gayle is jovial – she is cheerful, jolly, and good humored, fun loving, and full of beans.
“What do you do to make [marriage] work?”
- I wake up in the morning.
- I have a personal relationship with the Creator of marriage.
- I apologize for my mistakes as quickly as I can.
- I learn from my mistakes.
- I am determined to continue a loving-respectful-understanding-submissive-maturing romance with Gayle until one or both of us see Jesus without my dimmed Son glasses on.
[1] Good (adjective) indicating something is approved of or desirable
[2] Quality (noun) a distinguishing characteristic
[3] Appreciate (verb) to feel gratitude, value highly, understand, to gain in value
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Recently, we celebrated the birthdays of two grandfathers’ turning 80 and 85. This grandson asked, “What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned through the years?”
Both men got a twinkle eye, gave a boyish grin, and said, “I didn’t think I’d make it this far!” Then they sowed a few seeds of advice:
“Don’t lie.”
“Don’t carry baggage.”
“Take life as it comes.”
“Learn to give and take.”
Reflecting on more than six decades loving the same woman, both guys got tears in their eyes and said, “It’s her.”
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Gayle and I have 25% of our children during the next few days. So, we took our youngest son to eat dinner at Taco Bell, ice cream at McDonalds, then swimming at the YMCA. It's fascinatingly scary how two adults with one high-powered son can have so many minutes of space when 75% of the kids are on vacation.
After tucking Gabe in bed, telling him a story about how his mom and I met, we cuddled and prayed. Then I sat in the hallway to finish some bizdocs while my little man stopped squirming.
Gayle swiftly came upstairs, batted her blues, and said she nominated me to share five random things about marriage. I kicked my head back, scrunched my nose, shrugged my shoulders, and chuckled to myself...that's easy...sex on Sunday, Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.
Then, her all-knowing eye shook me out of my carnal male wish list for some second thoughts:
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Gayle's got a quick whit that offends the Pharisee in me.
- I've shared with my lady all things carnal, spiritual, dark and light, poopy and rosy...and she takes them all in stride as a woman of virtue…then uses it for blog fodder.
- Marriage is the only earthly relationship that reveals the depth of our sin and the height of our passion. The latter is my favorite.
- Periods are not only for sentences; they are a reason to eat chocolate.
- There is always a reason to eat chocolate.
This most likely isn't what Gayle's looking for... it's definately not worth writing home about and won't make it to a Hallmark card but, these are my five random thoughts about marriage.
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Back in February, the
Today, were closing the doors to our farm. With a tear-filled eye, this lazy bones ant farmer offers a few observations.
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Ants have a short life.
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Ants resist human assistance.
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Ants rotate leadership.
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Ants work fast.
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Ants work until the project is complete.
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Ants work as a team.
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Ants create a practical system of commerce.
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Ants save for the future.
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Ants reserve savings last beyond their lifetime.
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Ants accomplish much in little time.
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Ants take breaks for personal grooming.
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Ants are persistent.
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Ants are diligent.
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Ants are creative problem solvers.
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Ants look to the future.
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Ants start the next project before they complete their current work.
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Ants build momentum through group efforts.
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Ants are fun to watch.
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Ants are low maintenance.
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Ants are fun for the family.
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Ants work to live and live to work.
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Ants eat the food resulting from their work.
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Ants sleep in the homes that result from their work.
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Ants die when their work is done.
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Did Joshua, a human being and son of the living God who walked our planet c.0-33 A.D. live in a constant state of convergence?
There was a statement recorded by one of the New Testament writers that Joshua said, “Before Abraham was, I am.” An apostle to non-Jews wrote about Joshua, that he is “…the same yesterday, today, and forever.” Another writer, whom Joshua selected to become his closest friend, described him this way, “…he was, and it, and is to come…”
It is written in ancient scrolls that God spoke through Joshua to create our universe.
Joshua’s mother was a virgin girl. He became a man who lived by imitating our Father. He was murdered and buried as a religious blasphemer, just as Hebrew prophets foretold. The Spirit brought Joshua back from death to rise at our Father’s right hand as the only Mediator between God and human beings.
Did Joshua live those thirty something years as omni-present word of God and present human being in the lineage of Abraham, David, and Adam? Did the history and future exist within him? Did the author and finisher of our faith experience “Let there be light” and “It is finished” at the same time he looked at the man crippled from birth, lowered from the roof by his friends, and say, “You are forgiven”?
When Joshua sat at supper with Lazarus, could he see his friends’ conception, life up to that moment in time, all the days up to his death, then his resurrection...death and resurrection? Could he feel the loss of weeping when Lazarus died, hearing Mary’s request to come, his prayer and command, “Lazarus, rise!” all while the party surrounded him at Mary and Martha’s house?
Could it be that Joshua is Messiah? I believe he is!
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It was recently brought to my attention that a secret admirer nominated my wife's weblog for Funniest HomeSchool Blog! You can't imagine my response. We're talking tears of joy and jumping up and down like I just won the $6.5M state lottery. Then I jumped into the voting booth and voted Grace4Gayle. It was so amazing to see her number jump from 1% to 2%. Wow! One person's vote really makes a difference. So, with a new sense of purpose and determination I've become Gayle's campaign manager. That is Chris Bryant, Grace4Gayle Campaign Manger and Promotional Director to you my friend. So, here I go...
This is me shaking hands and handing out chocolate and roses: VOTE Grace4Gayle!
This is me talking about Gayle's...promises, promises, promises...VOTE Grace4Gayle!
Phew! This is serious work...VOTE Grace4Gayle...
Please, VOTE Grace4Gayle!
Thank you for Voting Grace4Gayle
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In the early 90's, my health insurance premiums were paid 100% by an employer. When Elijah and Allegra were born, Gayle and I had no out of pocket costs. ZERO Dollars! During the mid nineties, my employer made arrangements to pay 75% of the cost and I could make co-payments. In the late nineties, as the cost of insurance continued to rise, my employer adjusted the arrangement again and paid 60%. With the new millennium, we shared group rates at a 50/50 split and our society wanted me to share the cost of abortion, drug abuse, and homosexuality.
Then in 2005 God called me to walk away from the broker's desk, devote myself to prayer, serve the word and lead His people into financial freedom. So, one of the first things I did was calculate costs. Health care for a family of six was a major concern. The annual insurance premiums, while tax-deductible, would cost $960.60 per month. Ka-Ching! That's $11,527.20 to live healthy. If my family each went in for a well check up and a couple of dental visits during the year, our healthy living cost just increased $4,950...Ka-Ching! That's $16,477.20 per year. Let me re-phrase that in middle-class American month-to-month living expense talk: I'm gonna pay $1,373.10 every month for health care! That's base level, healthy living. Man, what about emergencies and medication?!?! So, there I sat in my home office, face buried in my hands, "Father, I believe you will supply all we require according to your weight in wealth through Jesus. Will you please give me wisdom how to pay these health care expenses?"
Sometime later (I don't recall if it was a day, a week, a month, or when...) an advertisement in a financial journal grabbed my attention, "ARE YOU PAYING TOO MUCH FOR HEALTH INSURANCE? Contact Christian Care Medi-Share, Affordable, Biblical Healthcare, a Ministry of The American Evangelistic Association." I did. I researched their website and ordered an information package. After reading that, I spoke with a few representatives, requested their financial statements and information on the board of directors. When my questions and concerns were thoroughly satisfied, we applied for membership. Gayle and I were interviewed for our medical history, released our health information and met the qualifications for membership. I paid my last $960.60 insurance premium in February and with confidence in God, we began our monthly sharing commitment. In March we sent $320 to help supplement the medical bills for several families who believe in Jesus Christ, the authority of Scripture, are involved in their local church, keep sex in marriage, abstain from tobacco, illegal drugs and abusing alcohol. Plus $10 a month supplements the income of a believer who became disabled and isn't able to work.
While the members do not pay for the cost of my psychotherapy with a Doctor of Psychology and Medical Doctor treatments for depression, our Father has covered those costs by other means. We've already had the opportunity for a test in trust. A couple of weeks ago, Elijah passed his bike to Malachi and Malachi gave his bike to Gabriel. Malachi was free-wheeling on
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This weekend, my wife and her best friend went to a home school meeting together. That gave me the opportunity to watch over eight children for twenty four hours.
We started with the “BH Express” board meeting. To me, it was official. From the perspective of four boys and four girls all under the age of twelve, it was a...bored meeting. We quickly created three groups:
· Group One: Captain Nate and the Incredible Mr. E - two wise-guys quickly approaching age twelve, who make a living on pizza, pop and the war games they've created out of cards.
· Group 2: Chris's Angels - don't let the beauty of this pre-teen princess squad deceive you. These girls can make things happen. They play Polly pockets and poker like virtuous home-makers dealing the destiny of the future.
· Group 3: The Dream Team - this mixed group of less than eight includes Ms. Beth-utiful batting eyes, Muscle Mass missing four front teeth and the Gabester. They make any manly coach want to grab his blanky and suck thumb.
My rules were severe:
#1 Stay with your group.
#2 Give your Mommy a kiss and hug then tell her “I love you” before you create havoc.
#3 Party ‘til mom comes home!!!!!
I felt like Steve Martin in the recent film, Cheaper by the Dozen. He’s standing on the street corner in front of the “neighborhood” kids as a taxi driver escorts Bonnie Hunt to
I chauffeured the BH Express to our local YMCA for some free-style swimming. Our group being large enough to conquer
Anyway…the BH Express sounded off multiple times on the 15 minute drive to the Y. Did I mention the question was asked, “Are we there yet?” no less than thrice? Gimme a break! It’s only a quarter of an hour! We made our entrance to the
Finally, it was swim time. You know in the movies where everything is slow motion. Well, time stood still. There I was; leading the BH Express with inspirational music playing in the background. Every eye turns to look at the 9 of us cruising toward the water: Captain Nate and the Incredible Mr. E struttin’ in the goggles, Chris's Angels stylin’ in beach wear, The Dream Team tight in their safety vests, and me in my little Speedo…SCREEEEECH! Hold that thought...I’m joking. I don’t have a Speedo. My swim trunks are baggy. Really! You’re not getting my 227 pounds into one of those bun huggers. It’s embarrassing enough walking mostly naked in front of people I’ve never met. While I feel pretty good standing next to Shamoo, 28.1% body fat doesn’t float very well. Uh, it was swim time…Right?!?! Only 45 minutes?!?!?! I was on time! Well, we had fun. Nobody drown. Giggles and laughs. I had 9 minutes of floating while the Dream Team splashed in ankle deep water.
Afterward, the girls did their thing together in the women’s room and the guys showered and dressed as Men. It takes quit some time for Chris’s Angels co-staring Beth-utiful batting eyes to dress. Exactly enough time for male showers, drying, drying swim trunks, dressing, turning in keys, playing three checker games, multiple conversations why water is healthier and more economical than soda pop, a conversation with a high school friend…and a request to three elder women going in for swim aerobics pleading with Chris’s Angels and Ms. Beth-utiful batting eyes to please come out.
As the little ladies finished and the final checker game ended, we drove to the Longview Public Library. After everyone was out of the Bryant bus, I called for the BH Express to sound off. And to my surprise, we got it. Our mission was clear: One family video. We marched into the hush-zone nearly undetected by the mouths dropping and bedazzled stares. We quickly selected our film with only five vetos by Sergeant Bummer. I checked out, paid $5 for an overdue copy of Chariot’s of Fire that I didn’t view, and we piled back into the Suburban.
Back at the ranch, Gayle had prepared meat, potatoes and veggies in the crock-pot. Chris’s Angels arranged paper plates, cups and forks. The Dream Team got ready for bed. Captain Nate and the Incredible Mr. E prepared our theatrical presentation for the evening. Everyone lined up for the standard spread we thanked our Father for Gayle’s good grub and a safe refreshing trip for mommies and peaceful rest for the BH Express that evening. After strawberry short cake with whipped cream ala Gayle the kids went to bed…by 11.
I was expecting a satisfying middle of the bed night’s rest. But, with eight bladders, one emptying per hour, it was a short evening watch. The next day, we located creative footwear for the BH Express to play in the mud outdoors before Mrs. B & Mrs. H arrived at lunch time. The BH Express was a blast. I was again reminded of the importance a mother makes in the lives of little people. This weekend, two servants of the Lord who work day and night ministering to the needs of God's precious ones, finally received an overdue day off. 24-7-365 is too-long of a shift even for my virtuous woman.
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After a grand-canyon gap, I've decided to pick up my pen and write again. For the past month, I have heard the words of an ancient Israelite king speaking in my psyche,
"Go to the ant, you sluggard, consider it's ways and be wise. The ant has no guide, overseer, or ruler. The ant provides its meat in the summer, gathers its food in the harvest. How long will you sleep, o sluggard? When will you arise out of your sleep? A little sleep, a little slumber, a litte folding of the hands to sleep: So shall your poverty come as one that travels, and your want as an armed man."
My initial response was to pick up that old black Book and read from the 6th Proverb, sentence six through eleven. I read it in black and white. Then, I re-read that paragraph from Hebrew to English. It stung like Daddy's swat. Ouch! Then I reacted...sluggard? What do you mean...sluggard?!?! Any comment that starts with slug is definitely not a cozy compliment. No. It's a straight forward kick in the pants.
I asked old Noah Webster his perspective on the subject of a sluggard. My correction became clearer than a crystal drinking glass of Rocky Mountain spring water. In 1828, Mr. Webster wrote that a sluggard is a noun made up of two words: Slug and slow kind. A sluggard is a person who is habitually lazy, idle, and inactive. A drone. Essentially, a heavy, lazy fellow that's slower than a slug.
My male ego was deflated like a droopy balloon, hanging from the snout of Eyore the donkey ("O-Bawther"). But, I chose to take action with this breathe of Oxygen. My wife and I rallied the children into our Suburban School Bus and drove to the local home education store to purchase supplies for our new project: a miniture ant observatory. 21 worker ants arrived in the mail yesterday. Today, I'm an ant farmer.
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My wife and I have three sons and a daughter. Our youngest is a boy. His name is Gabriel John Bryant. He is three. Gayle and I named him for the meaning: Gabriel means, "God is my strength." John means, "God's gracious gift”. Bryant means, "Down from the mountain with power, strength and virtue." That means we have a son with a double portion of God's strength, who lives in Christ with virtuous power.
We have called all of our children by their names: Elijah, Allegra, Malachi, and Gabriel. Of course there are exceptions. One such exception is an ancient practice of the full name warning: “Gabriel John Bryant. Come to me now!” Another is mixing names in the flurry of family frenzy rushing and racing to get somewhere we forgot and we’re late to top it off. I call my children by every name in the house except their own: “Malachi, uh, no Elijah..Allegra…sorry… (With an inner sigh of relief that I finally got it)… Gabriel.” I just knew that when I became a man, husband and father that I wouldn't do that name mix-up with my kids. Oops. Sorry, Mom and Dad. I let you off the hook, again.
Every person in the house calls my youngest son "Gabe". That is everyone, except for me. I hold to naming him what I will call him and calling him what I named him. "But", says Gayle, "Gabe fits him so well." Then I noticed Grampa and Granma from both sides of the family called him “Gabe”! Then I heard our family in the Christian community calling him, "Gabe".
Gabe, Gabe, Gabe! I decided to get to the bottom of this issue. I would ask my son. (Remember dear reader that I'm speaking to a two year old) We had just finished cuddling and reading a book. Then we moved to the hard-wood floor to race cars in his room. Face-to-face over a fleet of Hot Wheels my son and I played cars with enthusiasm making sounds like "BRRRRRRR, GRRRRRR, SCREEEEECH, CRASH!!!! Over a pile of cars I asked him, "Son, your mommy and I named you Gabriel. Many people call you Gabe. Do you want me to call you Gabe or Gabriel?" His innocent face and glowing eyes lightly shinned on me, "Gabe, Dad," he said as a matter of fact in childlike tones. And there it was. From my son’s mouth in his own words. We are no longer Gabriel and Daddy. At two, we are Gabe and Dad.
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Over two years ago, God called me to walk away from the brokers desk, devote myself to prayer and serving the word to lead his people into financial freedom. After a year of preparation, I resigned from my position as Vice President of Investments and Insurance at US Bancorp. It was both exilerating and terrifying. I began to reprioritize. The Scriptures have become my consistent companion. I've been floating impromptu complaints, concerns, goals, relationship issues to my Father through the Word in the Spirit. Relationships have taken a new dimension. And so have the pressures of my inner world.
For the past week or two...maybe a month...this song spontaneously arises from my deep struggles:
"Hear my cry, Oh Lord.
Attend unto my prayer.
From the ends of the earth, Lord, will I cry unto you.
And when my heart is overwhelmed,
please lead me to the Rock
that is higher than I...
so much higher than I."
Could it be the prayer of the saints? Could it be the Spirit of God? Could it be Christ interceding for me?
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What is my self worth?
I have pondered this question during an hour drive between one city to another. It's been mental gymnastics involving position, personality, performance, productivity and profitability. Then, within a moment of revelation I received emotional resonation. There are five criteria of my value and self-worth:
Criteria #1 Relationship - Fundamentally, I have three relationships. First, God. Second, my neighbors. Third, my self.
God - There is an entire Book written about God; Father, Son, Spirit...Creator, Redeemer, Friend...Theology proper and practical is not my point. I have a relationship with God by grace, through faith in Jesus Christ, not by works so that no-one can boast.
Neighbors - I'm in more relationships that with the guy next door. By neighbors I'm talking about any human being on the planet with whom there is interpersonal communication. My wife, children, relatives, friends, clients, vendors...and this list grows long.
Self - Within this body is heart, soul, mind and strength. Relationship with God, people and me are criteria for my value and self worth. This leads me to...
Criteria #2 Heart - The first thing that comes to mind is Valentines Day back in elementary school when I cut out red construction paper and wrote to Ms. Musto, my third grade teacher, "Will you be my Valentine?" I loved that woman. When Mom took me to the hospital and Doctor F took out my erupting appendix, Ms. Musto brought my buddy Erik to visit. They stopped at the Locker Room athletic store and bought a classic Fran Tarkenton poster...(it's still at Mom's house). But that's another story. And that's not the heart I'm talking about. The next thing that comes to mind is the ol ticker. Mr. Cardio that doesn't get enough exercise and a guy over 35 must check in with his MD prior to embarking on triathlon training. No. That's not the heart I mean. And neither is Rambo, Braveheart, or what's the guys’ name who acts on 24?!?! The heart is my center thoughts. This is where daily intrapersonal conversation goes on. It's the "Top 6 Task List" and the Wall Street Journal and "what's for Breakfast, lunch and dinner?" The heart is the playground for self-talk and the battleground for spiritual warfare, too. My heart is the centre for intrapersonal conversation. Heart is a criterion for my value and self-worth. This leads me to another topic...
Criteria #3 Soul - No...Not the soul train! And not that eternal ****ed or saved part me that back country preachers claim are "goin ta hell in a hand basket or to da pearly gates to see St. Peter!" Nah. Soul is the five senses: seeing, smelling, hearing, tasting, and touching. Many animals have such senses as my soul. It is the common connection between humans and the creatures we've been given authority to rule. Soul is a criterion for my value and self-image. Next...
Criteria #4 Mind - Did you ever see the Bugs Bunny show where the big headed Martian chased bugs? Or the mad scientist in his laboratory cooking something kooky? To some extent intelligence is mind. But a crazy cartoon just doesn't capture the meaning. Mind is deep thought. This is the seat of our emotions. The inner world that motivates us. The secret place of sub-conscious belief. Here in the mind is where psychotherapy and deep healing are most prevalent for us common folk who live in a fallen world. This is the Hard Drive for human beings. This is where Spirit speaks to spirit the deep things of God. Mind is a criterion for my value and self-mage. And finally...
Criteria #5 Strength - The first picture that popped into my "heart" is Arnold Swartzenhager in his prime fitness years as Mr. Universe. But that's not it. Next picture...The Russian Olympic Power Lifting Champion of the World. Nope. Strength is my ability, might and power. Ability is that God given potential. Like a talent or bent toward something like piano or leadership. This is where the gifts (or charisma) of the spirit are contained. The charisma of teaching, administration, encouragement, service, and such are all part of this ability. Might is the capacity of a thing. Some people need 6 hours of rest in the evening for a healthy body. Others need 9 or more. Nine is about right for me. Any more and I get a headache. Less than eight and I need a nap. One person could have the gift of administration with more or less than other person with the same ability. That's might. Power is influence. A healthy human being has at least 56 people in their field of relationships whereby power or the ability to influence is prevalent. Strength is a criterion for my value and self image.
The question: what is the criterion of my value and self image?
The answer: heart, soul, mind, and strength in relationship.
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Tis the season to be jolly…and honor my parents. I love my folks. I have four fathers and two mothers. Hold on while I share a brief tribute to the people who made my world possible.
First, I introduce Rex. Rex is a man of musical talent. He writes life ballads and makes melody with guitar. I feel his baritone voice in my chest every time I talk. Dad's a patriarch - eight children, four wives (not all at the same time) and high intentions. I love this man. I am his firstborn biological son.
Second, I introduce Mark. Mark is a mighty hunter. My first-born son bears the name of his most challenging opponent. Elijah. Elijah was a magnificent elk. His rack, head and chest are mounted as a monument of that one great hunt. The giant hangs above the basement staircase in the house Mark built for his family. He made great sacrifices to provide food, clothing, shelter, health care, and recreation for his four sons. I love this man. He is my Dad, my Mom's husband.
Third, I introduce Ron. Ron is a man of the earth and sea. He sailed in the navy to defend the
Ron married Donna in 1961. Donna is my mother-in-law. Our culture has "in-law" jokes. But, I just can not relate!?! Donna is a gentle lady who has inner strength, devotion and a beautiful sparkle in her eyes. I see my wife in her. Gayle learned her craft of sewing and quilting from her mother [see: grace4gayle Nov. 4, 2006 My Bazaar Day! (No, not Bizarre!)]. Elijah, my firstborn son still sleeps with his blankie that Gramma made. When Gayle and I were courting, she and Donna brought the bachelor groceries. During the early days of our marriage Donna was there to help with diapers. Donna's T-bird was a gift of transportation. When Gayle and I needed child-care, Donna was the trustee. She means more to me that I could ever express. I love this lady. That's what her name means, Lady. She is our children's Gramma; truly a Grand-Mother. She is my brides’ mommy. And while I call her, Donna my heart calls her mom.
Speaking of Mom, I now introduce Karen. Karen is a rose. She is beautiful, smells sweet to everyone around her. And like a high school ballad sang, "Every rose has its thorn". But that's for another day. Mom provided for me when Dad left. I was 3. She taught Sunday school at
Let’s re-cap. I wrote about my dad’s Rex, Mark, and Ron; Donna and Karen, my mom’s. There’s one Father I haven’t mentioned...GOD.
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I woke up this morning in the usual way. Thoughts rolling around in my head of all I had to do today. Then floating from a Jenny Craig marketing slogan came a question, "Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired?" My disturbing response was, "Yes."
Here I am, sleeping 'til around 8 in the morning. I've had a sufficient amount of rest. But, I'm not feeling good...I'm feeling sick and...well, tired. What happened to the mornings of days gone by? 4, 5, 6 AM. The alarm sounds. I leap out of bed with a song in my heart, "This is the day, the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it!" But that's not today. In fact...that's not this...decade!
Normally, I mentally wrestle through the Jenny Craig slogan by reflecting on past readings of David's Journal. Then, I drag my 6 foot 3 inch, 225 pound carcuss outta bed and stretch...gulp down eight ounces of freezer water and swallow my health supplements...sit in a cozy chair with a warm mug of Kirkland coffee, my journal, The Book and talk with DADDY about the day.
Today, I went to the shower first. God's Spirit downloaded the root cause of my sick and tired condition. DEBT.
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In the drama Finding Forrester, an afro-American teen writing prodigy finds a mentor in a reclusive author. The prodigy is Jamal Wallace played by Rob Brown and his mentor is William Forrester (Sean Connery). About midway through the film Im relaxing, enjoying the scene where Forrester is discussing the art of writing with Wallace. And then Forrester said it...a statement that sticks in my psyche like a cupids arrow. Connery, in his deep-man-Scot-English accent said to the struggling writer, "The first rule in writing...is to write!" I love to read. I love to write. It's energizing. But, to hold myself out for other people to read...now that's uncomfortable! Its easy to sit in my study, cozy in that black leather executive chair, looking at my bookshelf with a sense of accomplishment, and secretly entertaining the inner voice saying, "Come join us." Maybe youve heard the collective call to write. Yes. I know it's important. But where's the time? Who wants to read my words anyway? Today more words grabbed me. It was the beautiful voice of my beloved bride. Chris", she said, "you have thoughts and ideas that people need to hear. It would almost be a sin to keep them to yourself." Externally, I shrugged and mumbled something (or maybe that was a grunt). Internally, the Holy Spirit echoed the truth in her words. You know the story. Jesus praised two good and faithful servants for multiplying their Master's wealth. He cursed the lazy, wicked slave who buried it!!! Ouch. That pricked my conscience. The conviction was sweet and to the point. If I don't use the typewriting skills to express my journey then it's like burying over $1Million in the dirt. I do not want to be hardhearted or unprofitable. So, Ill write. Missing the mark to the target of God's righteousness has been paid for by the sacrificial death of our Beloved Savior. So, if expressing my inner world can encourage readers, then I will shoot an arrow into cyber-space. Welcome to my journal.