Showing posts with label truth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label truth. Show all posts

Sunday, May 31, 2015

On Coffins and Crosses

For Easter this year we went to the house of some new friends here in Oregon. It was a nice little gathering. They had activities set up for the kids and gift bags to take home.

In each gift bag was a small piece of wood with nails and yarn affixed to it. The idea was, by winding the yarn around the nails in the appropriate way, the yarn would form the shape of a cross. It was a clever Easter themed craft.

Since Easter, the two wood pieces have been floating around the house in various toy boxes and piles, used every once in a while. Recently Isaiah was playing with his, wrapping the yarn around the nails in a carefree manner, not intending on forming the cross shape it was designed to reveal.

My wife looked over at him and commented on the design that was emerging


Sunday, April 19, 2015

Bedtime Story

Isaiah was crying at bedtime. 
His stuffed Puppy has a hole at the seam, which we said Mama could fix tomorrow, but he got worked up about it. I went in and lay down with him and talked to him. I sang “Jesus Loves Me” and “Step by Step”.
I asked him what happened last time Puppy had a hole, he said Mama fixed him that time. I talked to him about how Puppy was actually really old because dogs age differently and we've had Puppy as long as we have had Isaiah. How Isaiah picked Puppy to be his friend the first time he walked into our home in Bowman House.
Isaiah grabbed my arm and pulled it around his body and said,

“Stay with me Papa. Tell me a story.”

Once there was an….

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Secrets, Identities, and Power

One Halloween, when I was in middle school, I was trick-or-treating with my brothers and some other kids stole our candy.

My brothers and I were about five blocks from our house, walking up a street between neighborhoods, away from any houses. A car pulled up next to us, older kids jumped out, there was a scuffle, and they took our bags of candy. My brother had been picked on at school; it may have been those kids and their older friends and brothers. It may have just been a random act of meanness. 
We walked and ran the five blocks home.
I was scared. I was frustrated. And I was angry.
I was scared.

I open with this story because I want you to know that I have very vivid memories of being scared walking home at night.

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