What I am is disabled. What I am is a writer. What I am is a failure. What I am is a success. A provider, a dependant, the list goes on. What I am comes from what describes me, what I do, and what happens to me. What I am is not who I am.
Who I am is a son. Who I am is a father. Who I am is a brother. Who I am is a husband. Most importantly, I am a child of God who is loved by Him without any regard of what I am or what happened or will happen to me. Who I am is loved.
My wife and I have recently been struggling to learn how to work with our youngest child, a daughter who is “mighty in spirit. ” What Dobson called the strong-willed child seems to manifest in our daughter’s personality several times a day. She reminds me so much of myself at that age! I had an intensely strong personality with my own preferences and mandates. My reaction to authority was best expressed through the title of a book I ran across a couple of years ago, titled You Can’t Make Me, But I Can Be Persuaded. Things worked best for me when I understood my options and I was allowed to make my choice. That didn’t always happen.
Violations of my independence were met with strong, sometimes violent resistance. As a result, elementary school had to be one of the most frustrating, torturous experiences I’ve ever endured. It made such an impression that it figured into my reasoning behind our decision to homeschool our children. If there is one objective for elementary school besides the obvious education factor, it is to remold young minds to be docile and easily lead. Why else is there pressure to fit in, to follow instruction without question, to do everything the same way as everyone else? Like thousands of other strong-willed children, my struggles with such institutionalized brainwashing nearly destroyed me. My teachers had labeled me unintelligent, frustrating, stubborn, disruptive, irresponsible, and lots of other things. It took me until my mid-20s to begin to figure out why I had struggled so much.
Strong-willed children have such strength for a very good reason. If they survive childhood, and if they are given what they need, they will be very strong, capable leaders. They will know right and wrong, and they will choose wisely. Their road is not an easy one, nor will they always be right. But they can learn, think and respond as well as—if not better than—their peers. I’m so glad my youngest doesn’t have to go through the pain that I went through to find that out. We can work with her and help her learn how to respond to those challenges. She can learn at home where her independence and creativity can be nourished, not stifled. She will make mistakes and she will learn the consequences, but she will not be devalued or rejected. She has a bright future; all we need to do is help her choose it.
I think as long as we have the internet, we will have some form of spam out there that drives us nuts. Have you ever run into blog spam? As the owner of a blog, I’ve run into comment spam, which is where a spammer leaves a comment on your blog that is completely unrelated to your post and advocates some action like clicking a link or visiting a site. Everyone knows about the other kind of spam that gets into your e-mail. I even know some who have tasted the original Spam meat product.
Blog spam is an odd little thing in that it just sits out there on a little-known website address, usually on a free blog site like blogger.com. It contains words and key phrases designed to trick Google and other search engines to direct you to their site. If you use Google Alerts, Google will let you know about this great new web site that just came out with the words you asked it to look for. Only when you get to the site do you realize that you’re a victim of blog spam.
Ironically, these blogs use Ads By Google and other pay-by-impression advertisements to boost their hit counts. That’s how they make their money. Marketing is a game of percentages. They know that if they can get even the slightest percentage of Google searches for a particular phrase, they will make money. It doesn’t matter to them what you’re looking for. If they can get you to their site, that’s all that matters.
The spammers who set this stuff up know that they are violating the terms of service agreement for the free blog. In most cases on Blogger, the spammer has removed the Nav Bar at the top that allows site visitors (also known as spam victims) to flag the blog for review by Blogger. There is a way around that of course, but it takes three or four clicks, some searching, some reading, and some typing to make it happen. Only people like me who have a little time and are committed to fighting spammers would go to the trouble it takes to report the abuse. For that small, hardy band of spam blammers ("blam" as in explosion), the steps to report a Blogger or BlogSpot spammer are at the end of this post.
This is going to become a bigger problem. I hate to sound so “positive,” but I’m pretty sure it’s going to happen. Although this can be stopped on so many levels from the search engine to the hosting site to the unfortunate victims, public outcry and frustration will have to rival the congressional brouhaha over e-mail spam a few years back in order to get the attention it needs. Until then, search engines will continue to get clogged with useless links, and people will get frustrated by irrelevant search results.
To report a Blogger spammer
Find the URL (the http://... in your address bar)
Highlight and copy the URL to the clipboard. It must have from the http to the .com part to give them a good URL
Sometimes the older I get, the simpler my problems become. I set my eyes on some worthy thing, some tantalizing goal, and all my heart is set upon it. In nearly every case, I have found that it is folly to chase after it. It seems as if God himself is bent against me attaining or obtaining what I desire. The frustrating part, of course, is that I asked God to do it. I asked God to do it when I told him that I wanted his will for my life. Isn’t that insane? But it’s true! I can’t help it. Something inside me desires to see God’s will manifest in my life.
The problem is, I don’t know when I’m placing my own will above God’s. My own will slips into the driver’s seat of my life and suddenly I’m out of control. I’m about to "Kato"* and God is nowhere to be seen. At least, that used to be the case. God seems to have moved me from the freeway to the Disneyland Autopia, where the worst that can happen is a bumper thumper. It seems it’s easier to hear his Holy Spirit as well. And if there’s hope for me…
Tonight, my wife and I were talking about whether I should go to Denver for a hobby show. My disability can sometimes prevent me from driving, especially when the pain is too much of a distraction. The key word is sometimes. Sometimes makes it difficult plan. Sometimes seems to show up at the worst times. If I get to Denver, will I be able to drive back? The only insurance against this is to drive with another driver, in which case I’m redundant anyway. Isn’t this fun? It’s all part of life with a disability.
I decided to pray about it, I didn’t get any clear answer like I usually do. So, I decided to inquire of the Lord to understand the meaning of his abstinence in answering, and I said, "What?!" The question I got in my mind was, "Steve, are you resting in me?" As usual, his answer had two distinct applications. First, unless I am resting in God’s peace, it is very difficult for me to hear him. Second, resting in God is impossible without submitting my will to his.
Then he told me, "Where you go will not make you happy." How many personal fortunes have been both amassed and wrecked, how many empires have both risen and fallen because of the belief that going someplace or possessing something will bring happiness? Lucky for me, it didn't cost me the gas money this time.
Then he gave me the kicker: "I will not give you what you want until you decide you do not want it."
For a lot of people, that may just seem like double talk. But in this case, he was using it to illustrate a point with me. He will not give me what my will wants until I decide first to place my will under his will, until I choose that I first want what he wants for me. Until I am choosing his will first, I am going to meet with frustration. If I'm going to be his child, if I'm going to bear the name of Christ, I'd better be submitted to the One Whose name I bear.
Unless God tells me to go, I am not going to Denver. Heaven and earth don't hang in the balance, just my money for gas, the rent of a wheelchair, and some food on the way. This time, it could've been a bumper thumper. Next time, it might be a Kato. I'm strapping my will into the passenger seat with duct tape this time.
Did you ever have an experience where you were just available, and God used you for something that you never expected but always had hoped?
In the days of high school, I was assigned to write a short story. I went with what I knew. The plot was transparent, and the pacing was slow. In the end, the peer-review of my story confirmed my fear: I would never be a writer, and I certainly could never be taken seriously in a fiction endeavor.
Then one morning, I woke up early and wrote Escaping the Homeschooling Matrix. My heart had been burdened for my wife and so many others who were facing the awesome and fear-laden burden of homeschooling their children. I saw them trapped, pinned inside of an artificial box. I knew they could escape, but I didn't know that I held one of the answers until I was actually done with the story.
Then later that morning, someone read my post and sent it to a friend who liked it so much, they wanted to publish it in their magazine, The Old Schoolhouse. Fast forward to today, where the story appears here. Wow! I am really amazed at the incredible graphics! I'm grateful they've invested so much into the story!
From this, I've learned that God will use you if you make yourself available and willing to be used in the way He wants to use you. Sometimes you have to wait a few years, but don't quit asking!
And to all those moms (and dads) out there that have read my story, thanks! I pray God uses it to make your homeschooling experience what He wants it to be. Matthew 11:28-30 "My yoke is easy, and my burden is light."
I don't think it's coincidence that Veterans' Day comes roughly a week after Election Day each year. Norm Dalsted, professor at Colorado State University, tells a story each semester to his economics class students. It's something they need to hear. "I think they need to know what happened," he says in an interview with Denver's 9News. What happened is he served in 1968 in Vietnam. He served his country, and he fought alongside friends who died for this country.
And dare I add, the right for people to vote. Exporting democracy means nothing if we don't exercise it ourselves.
I'm thanking a vet in person before next Tuesday the 11th.
Today is Halloween. All Hallows Eve. The day before All Saints’ Day. A lot of Christians get uptight this time of year. For them, the holiday has come to symbolize everything that is wrong with the culture they are in. It’s a day of a pagan ritual called Trick or Treat, where people pretend to be something they’re not and, knowingly or not, pretend to be druids collecting their seasonal sacrifice with the promise of a hex (the trick) if they’re not satisfied. It’s a day when fear and death are celebrated. Macabre and morbid are actively encouraged. If Jesus came for us to have life, and have it to the fullest, isn’t Halloween an anti-holy day?
I used to cringe as I passed stacked displays of trick-or-treat pumpkins with their fluorescent orange gap-toothed grins in the stores. I sidestepped the bats near the bananas and the spiders on the spaghetti aisle. I got irritated at orange lights strung up like Christmas displays. At times, I felt like belting out, "What’s wrong with you people?! Don’t you know you’re celebrating fear and death?"
I still feel irked sometimes, but I don’t get all stirred up about it anymore. I guess it’s because I feel like I understand why people celebrate it. Historically, people fear death. Death has always been something pagans fear and fail to understand. Culturally, Halloween provides a safe way of exploring those fears. Because I no longer fear death, I have no need for this holiday. I don’t feel like I’m superior to others who celebrate it. I just don’t need it, just like I don’t need yesterday’s garbage. People can celebrate whatever they want to, but I don’t feel the need to participate or to protest the holiday. It’s a big waste of time and money for me.
I still dislike goblins, vampires and witches, but only because they depict power without godly authority. They bring the same revulsion that a photograph of Stalin or Hitler would. I despise all power that isn’t under a godly authority. It is symbolic of the destruction that Satan desires for the whole human race. Why does he want it so badly? Because God loves us and lavishes us with it. He is consumed with destroying the object of God’s affection. The human being is made in God’s image, and Satan has six billion copies of his enemy walking around, so it’s no wonder he uses his ungodly power to destroy them all if he could. Short of killing them, twisting them morally, spiritually and physically seems just as well in his eyes. Getting them to believe in and use his power is just one way of doing that.
But just like the masks used on Halloween, Satan, the leader of the fallen angels, is a pretender. He does have power, but that power is temporary. On the real All Saints’ Day, he will be unmasked, stripped of his power and discarded into a lake of fire that burns him and his followers forever. He’s a fake, so why follow him? I follow the One Whose power infinitely exceeds this imposter. I know the Way, the Truth and the Life. His name is Jesus. By His power, I can face death without fear. My life is bought with Jesus’ blood. He died the most painful death a person could face. Three days later, He proved that His power could not be stopped even by death. If He raised Lazarus from the dead after 4 days, there’s nothing to keep us from believing He raised Himself after 3 days, or that he can resurrect us as well. When that resurrection day comes, it won’t be night of the living dead, it will be judgment day, a day when things are finally set right. I know I am truly at peace with my Creator. I have nothing to fear in death or the grave. The question is, do you?
Like most everyone, I have only a few early childhood memories before age 5. One of these was a dream, actually a nightmare. I dreamed I was on a game show. I tried but never remembered what the show was called. Today, I remembered the dream and did a little research. I found it was called Second Chance. It ran for only one 19 week season in 1976, which was a good reason why I couldn't recall it. Here's a three minute clip from YouTube.
Isn't that weird? It was later revamped and retried as Press Your Luck with the Devil being replaced by a Whammy. Anyway, I was three years old at the time and in my dream, I was playing the game--oddly the set was blue/black, not yellow/ugly--and if I landed on the Devil, my parents would go to hell. That scared me good enough to sear it into my mind for 30+ years! And people wonder why kids wake up crying in the middle of the night.
I despaired, if that's possible for a 3 year-old, for weeks because I thought it was real and that one day I would be on that game show and have to play it for my own fate or my parents. You can imagine the stress it created.
The good news is that the next year I went to a Sunday School where a missionary named Pat explained that Jesus died to save us from hell and that if I wanted to go to heaven, I could ask Jesus into my heart. It wasn't a matter of luck or chance! I took her at her word and when I found my parent in the hallway that Sunday, I ran and told my dad what I had done. I think it's because I wanted to make sure he knew too so he could go to heaven. Anyway, my dad was thrilled and picked me up in his arms. That's all I remember.
When I had grown up, I later found out that God had been pressing my dad through the Holy Spirit to share the Gospel with me and the impression was that if he (my dad) wouldn't do it soon, that God would do it another way. I got my second chance, so to speak. But I also realized that God takes the early reservations for heaven just as seriously as he takes the last-minute bookings.
My daughter lost her first tooth a few weeks ago. She lost her second tooth this week. She's only five and I'm wondering if this is too early, because I didn't start losing teeth until age 6 and change.
The second tooth had an air of deja vu, too. Like I did with my first lost tooth, my daughter came down to our living room after bedtime, worried that it would fall out. Just like my dad did nearly 30 years ago, I reached in and flipped the little tooth out with the same flick of the finger. It was almost an identical replay of what losing teeth was for me back then.
I guess we all become our parents to some extent, but to follow the footsteps so easily was uncanny!
seems to manifest in our daughter’s personality several times a day. She reminds me so much of myself at that age! I had an intensely strong personality with my own preferences and mandates. My reaction to authority was best expressed through the title of a book I ran across a couple of years ago, titled 
