Love God? Love Dogs? Yes? This is for you

Lost and Found

I hate loosing things. It sure seems like I loose more things than I used to. Some say it is my age and it will only get worse. Others tell me that I try to do too many things at one time and forget stuff along the way. (I know this is not true because I had to spit out my gum before I could type) Personally, I think there are little gremlins that follow me around and as soon as I put my car keys down they snatch them up and hide them in the dog dish. I have yet to catch any of these elusive creatures but it is only a matter of time. When I catch one all those who have been smiling to themselves waiting for me to admit that my mind is slipping a bit are going to be sorry.

The latest lost item is a collection of DVDs that cover two seasons of the Simpson's. I know the person who borrowed them gave them back and I put them on the self with my other movies. At least I think I did. They are not where I put them.

I was asked once if a person could loose their faith. the situation was presented to me like this: if a person has been baptized and at baptism received the Holy Spirit and forgiveness for their sins could that person later loose their faith or do they always have it, even if they no longer attend church? In other words will God still like your husband even if he never attends church. (Whoever said God liked your husband in the first place?)

I don't think faith ever disappears. Once God gives a gift God doesn't take it back. But we can loose our faith just like I can loose my car keys or Simpson's DVDs. We can forget our faith and in my book that is the same as loosing it. I know my car keys haven't disappeared even though I can't find them. (The gremlins eventually leave them out with some mike and cookies) A person's faith doesn't disappear but it can be misplaced. We can place our faith in how smart and clever we are or how good looking we are. We can place our faith in a country or in another person we admire. We sometimes place our faith in doctors and medicines. We can misplace our faith by trusting in all kinds of people and things that are not God. We only find our faith when we return to the Lord. St. Paul wrote, "I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. for I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out." Basically, Paul is reminding us that only our faith in god really works. Putting our faith in anything else is really just putting our faith in our human nature, which you have to admit is a bit messed up at best.

When I loose something I try to retrace my steps. I try to think of the last time I remember having that particular item and then try and connect the dots between then and now. Sometimes I am successful, like when I found my left contact on the toilet seat. Sometimes I am not successful at all. (Where are my DVDs) We can do the same thing when we misplace our faith. When was the last time I remember having it. For us Lutherans we have our Baptism as the beginning of our faith journey. Whenever we loose our faith we can retrace our steps back to the baptismal font and remember that moment. Oh yea, now I remember. God choose me; claimed me as a part of God's family. God gave me the gift of eternal life and he gift of a new life now because Jesus erased the sin that was in my way. Now I remember where my faith is - in my baptism. And if that isn't enough good news - gremlins can't swim.

Funny is as funny does

My son had one too many bowls of ice cream.

Good Morning

I used to be an early riser, but now I just rise early. The difference? He is a two year old boy who has internal atomic clock set permanently at 6 am. This is not that early some might say, but they have not just put him back to bed after awaking at 4am. I have no doubt that some parenting experts out there have some well rehearsed advice for keeping him sleeping longer. And I am guessing there are some others of you who think that we are just spoiling him. Let me give you all an insight about spoiling the baby in the family. Sometimes what appears to be giving the last son his way - spoiling him- is merely exhaustion. After raising three other boys with all their many quirks (the middle son likes to put his clean laundry back into his dirty laundry bin instead of putting it away in his dresser because it's too much effort to get off his bed and open the drawer) we barely even notice the small stuff anymore. Just yesterday the two year old sat in his seat at the breakfast table throwing spoons full of yogurt on the refridgator. I would have gotten up but I hadn't had my coffee yet and besides the dog was licking off most of it. I would like to write more but a football game has just broken out in the dinning room and I got to go. I'm on the defensive line. What can I say? The satisfaction of smashing my sons into the couch cushions and tickling them until they pee is too hard to resist. Besides some day they will all be gone from home and only my wife will be left to smash into the cushions. Ah, to be young again.

"Snow Days"

I fondly remember snow days, those wonderful spontaneous school free days where my entire world was blanked by inches and inches of snow. My backyard became a freshly shaken etch-a- sketch ready for my creative adventures. My brother and I would swallow our breakfast whole, throw on several layers of clothes, hats and gloves, falling all over one anther to be the first one out the door. This of course was all supervised by my mother who was convinced that if we survived the days' events it would only be because she insisted we wear our thermal underewear. "Even Superman wears thermal underwear", she would say. (yes mom, I'm sure it's his thermal underwear that deflects all the bullets) My brother and I would play outside building snow forts complete with tunnels and escape hatches. We would engage the neighborhood cats in commando snowball raids. (I do apologize to all those who are cat challenged and have yet to comprehend the universes' adversion to cats) We would stay outside all day even eating our lunches and drinking hot chocolate while sitting in our snow forts. By the end of the day our clothes were frozen stiff. Our theremal underwear felt like cardboard, our jeans wouldn't bend and we couldn't make snowballs anymore because the fingers of our gloves wouldn't fold around the snow. Exhausted and frozen we would call it a day and head back inside. Steam would actually rise off our bodies as mom began to chip off our clothing. Wouldn't it be wonderful to enter into each day as if it were a snow day; to enjoy every moment, to be exhausted with joy?