Listen and Learn - What Did You Say?

I often wonder if my hearing is waning? I have lots of friends with high tech hearing aids; funny, I thought my friends needed them because they are all so much older than me, but then it's not so funny because my friends are mostly my age. Selective hearing has been a suggestion that my wife has given as a possible reason for the problem. She I am not listening to her a lot of the time or that I only hear what I want to hear. Imagine that.

Sometimes I question if the kids I mentor are listening or are just waiting to get out from in front of me so they can get to doing whatever it is they were doing before I came along. I remember once when I was substitute teaching a group of sixth to eighth grade boys in a Sunday school class. I was never much on the required teaching parts of our class; I just never really understood it. I probably would have if I had read over it, listened to the teacher in charge and asked questions, but I figured I was a fill-in and as long as we hit the highlights we were good. Well that just didn't work. That age group is a fidgety group, and I figured I had to come up with something more extreme

So, during the time I met with the boys I would get them in a circle outside, in a corner on the floor or anyplace but the table. I would make up grand tales of adventure, hunting bear, fishing for shark, climbing mountains and other exciting stories. After I had their attention I would include how the Scripture or virtue of that week fit into the hog hunt with spears on horseback story I had told

Early on I wondered if I had made any impact on the boys or if they heard even a small piece of God's Word I was sharing with them? In my heart I wanted them to hear that part of the story. Then I began to get comments from the director of the youth ministry at church, from moms who had a boy in my class and others

"I don't know what bear hunting had to do with what you were teaching my son, but he has not stopped talking about it all week," one mom said

My little stories and the moral of the story were being shared and actually making an impact in some little way.

What I learned from that was that we all listen and learn in different ways, and that is OK. Boys can be distracted easily and unless you can engage them, they will miss a lot of the lessons they need to learn. They are designed to roll in the dirt, learn with their hands, associate meaning with physical motion. Today the kids are Go Pro, Red Bull, extreme sports and video erudite. Things are fast and wide open to them

One of the hardest things to teach a kid is to listen. Watch any kid walking down the street today, and I challenge you to see one go more than a minute or two without looking at their phone. What about reading a book in a quiet nook in their room or a window sill as the sun shines down warming their back? It is a rare kid, mine included.

The Bible talks a lot about listening. In the book of James, he shares, (1:19) “Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger,” in Proverbs 19:27, “Cease to hear instruction, my son, and you will stray from the words of knowledge.

Recently I was interviewing kids from our ministry, Kids Outdoor Zone. I asked each the same questions. There was one answer that was consistent. I asked, “Have you ever experienced or heard from God at a KOZ meeting?" All of the kids who heard God speak heard him in their sit spots. A sit spot is a period of time in which we send the kids out into nature alone to sit under a tree, along a creek, on a rock in the sun, in nature. But alone and with the mission to speak to and listen for God.

Wow. It was incredible. Almost everyone told me stories of God speaking to them, to their hearts. I cried as one of them described in detail how God loved him and told him to, “Stick with it."

I think we all need to find sit spots where we turn everything off and talk to Him but even more important, listen to Him. So often we miss the still quiet voice that wants to help us through something, help us make a good decision or just let us know all is well

As usual I need to pay attention to my own words here. We all need to be examples of listening for the next generation. If a small kid is talking to you, bend down and get eye to eye with them. Don't pick up your phone when driving your kids to school in the morning. Ask them not to pick up theirs.

When you first get together with your wife in the evening, let her talk. Do we really need to re-check our e-mails from when we left the office or sat in our car in the driveway before we came into the house? Do people really expect us to reply from our work e-mail at 7, 8 or 9 p.m.? Do we really need to listen to our family at night, talk with and listen for God each day? Of course.

Hemmingway had it right. "I like to listen. I have learned a great deal from listening carefully. Most people never listen."  I need to get it right, too.

Shoot to Kill and Heal, My Biggest Fear Today

Our street dead ends into a small grassy easement that leads to the back of a schoolyard. Crossing alongside the school property you end up in a nice city park. The whole time our kids were in middle school we walked them to the end of the street, followed the trail and then to school. To this day we walk that route to relax, exercise the dogs and enjoy the time outdoors. There is also a nice pasture property across the street from our house. From all that green space we get some pretty amazing wildlife activity.

Hearing coyotes at sunset is common from our house. Seeing fox, deer, skunks, raccoons and possum is not a big deal.  A few years ago I heard the coyotes going crazy, and I knew they had taken something down. The next morning I went to explore the end of the street, the pasture and green space. There was a big old deer almost completely eaten. I knew this guy; one of his legs was messed up. There was a blood and fur trail from the fence out into the middle of the field. He didn't make it over to get away this time…

My wife is a city girl, the baby of three girls, and never knew hunting or guns until she married into our family. I could not be more proud of her and how she has accepted the lifestyle. Almost all the meat we eat in our home is from game we harvested. She acquired her personal carry licenses and is proficient with most firearms. She still loves to shop and do all the things a city girl loves, but she is not afraid to take care of business like a country girl.

Not long ago as she and our youngest son walked the dogs down the street toward the park they saw a cat lying in the tall grass off the side of the worn trail. They recognized it as one of the feral cats that lives in the woods down there, nameless but recognized. It was moving slightly, erratic.

"Oh my, he must be hurt or sick. Quick, son, go get the gun. We have to put him out of his misery," she said with care and concern in her voice. Our son looked at her in disbelief -- who is this lady? They kept walking, and she repeated her request to him and to hurry; she did not want this kitty to suffer.  Whatever its fate had been she would end the pain and misery.

They moved closer to assess the wounds when the cat sprung up, looking at the humans and dogs. It evaluated its exit strategy and raced unscathed into the woods and its safe haven. My son laughed so hard his sides hurt.

A couple days ago as I sat in a coffee shop working, my phone rang.

"Honey, I think Rudy (our sons Border Collie) has killed one of the chickens," were the desperate and sad words my wife used. On occasion, as he does what Border Collies do, round up livestock or chickens in our case, one gets roughed up a bit.

"She is lying there, and I think she is hurt bad. You have to come home right away and shoot it. I don't want her to suffer."

I told her I had to complete the tasks at hand, and she was going to have to muster up the strength to pick up the poor wounded chicken and put it into the coop until I got home.

She was not happy with the idea of touching it but agreed.

"OK, I will," was the stressed and sad tone I heard from her.

Hours passed, and I called her to see how she was. She started right in telling me about the current project she was working on and other family news and information. I stopped her and asked how the chicken was and how bad it was moving her broken and bloody corpse into the coop.

"Oh, she is fine. She is with the rest of them and doing fine. I guess she wasn't hurt -- just stunned or something."

I laughed so hard I almost wrecked my truck.

My oldest son Cody Ryan has a fishing partner, David. David has struggled with a life-threatening illness for years. He has actually undergone hundreds of surgeries and continues to fight. One of the things that keeps David going is tournament bass fishing. He loves it and is quite accomplished at the national collegiate level. Just a few months ago, though, he was the sickest we had seen him experience. The doctors had little to no hope he would come out of a long coma that consumed him.

Everyone prepared for the worst, but hundreds of people prayed for healing. He came back, and it was nothing short of a miracle. In February, just a few months after his near-death experience, they fished their first tournament of the year and took third place. David also caught the second biggest bass of the event, the kicker that put them in the money. It was incredible. I cried as I read the tournament press release.

I have seen God heal the sick. I have seen myself, people, he has given the gift of healing. Use that gift to heal others. Does he always heal the sick? Does he always remove the cancer or bring someone out of a coma? No. Does He love on us, stand with us, care for us as we mourn the loss of someone? Yes. I cannot answer why some are healed and some are not. He knows. I don't. I do know that through the process, through pain, I learn my most intimate lessons about Him and me.

I found myself a little uneasy as of recent around the house. I have kept quiet about the sniffles and headache I had a few days ago. I used to be able to take a pretty good nap on the couch, but I am not sure about laying around our house these days. I can just hear it now, "Oh geeze, dad is sick. He looks out of it. This is it, the end. I guess we need to get the gun."

Backscratching & Jodi Foster, Whatever....

I am finding that love comes and goes. It is found in all different shapes and sizes, ways and means. As a boy the clearest memory I have of love is my mom scratching my back as I lay in bed at night. I could never get enough. It was a simple gesture I imagine on her part, but one that connected us and was a familiar comfort. I felt safe and loved.

In my early teens love came to me in overwhelming emotions toward the girls. I remember absolutely falling in love with Jodi Foster after watching the movie “Taxi Driver” at the theater. I guess the age restrictions at theaters and parental guidance for me was a bit lax. I wandered the streets thinking about her that night. I don't remember the exact thoughts, and I don't think any of it was about who she was in real life, just the character on screen. I wanted to save her, help her, rescue her and tell her she did not have to live that way. I loved her. 

As I accumulated years as a teen I would fall head over heels anytime a girl even looked my way. Many times it was vain imagination; other times they really did like me. But I felt a feeling inside that moved me emotionally, and it drove me. It must have filled an empty place, a need. It was powerful.

It wasn't long before the definition began to change, and the word “love” came to mean a physical relationship. If that was not included then, I would move on. It was totally unhealthy, and I am so sorry for the hurts I may have caused along the way, but it was my understanding of love and I yearned for it. 

I have a book of short stories, how my quest for love as a teen played out. One time I hitchhiked to Los Angeles to see a girl I liked who had moved there. On the way I got an offer to ride in the back of a pickup through the Mojave Desert, in the summer, during the day. The temperature in the shade that day was 110 degrees. When we got to the far side of the desert I was toasted, seriously burned. But I was determined and kept on going. The visit lasted just a few days.

I define some of my friendships with the word “love” today. God is so good to me in this area. He has given me a vast and varied compilation of friends. I love the men whom I consider my friends who speak into my life in huge ways. I learn so many life lessons I missed as a boy, young man, husband and father. They share with me their struggles and victories, and I do the same. 

The one thing I have found in friendships for me today is that many are seasonal. God puts someone in my life at a time when He wants me to grow in a particular area or learn a specific lesson. After He has placed the lesson in my heart He moves them aside and brings in another mentor or friend. I can get confused behind this way of His teaching sometimes; someone leaving can make me sad or even mad. But today I understand better what He is doing. I see now how it is perfectly timed for me to grow in my relationship with Him. The cool thing is that I have longed my whole life for a group of friends, a family of friends and relationships. He has given me that, and I am humbled.

Love is not only defined in human relationship. I love sitting in my chair and reading. I love coming home in the morning to the smell of bacon. I love laughing as our dogs do goofy things and the cat rolls around on the porch ignoring them. These are things that fill me with joy and comfort, and I would say I love them. 

Now some folks are thinking, what about your wife, your kids, God? Well for me those would be the pinnacle today of my definition of love. 

God is first. He is a Father to me in the most amazing ways, and He shows me He loves me in ways that only He can show me -- inconceivable, unbelievable, deep and meaningful ways. I have cried so many times as I tell the stories of His love for me, and I ask how can He love me so much. My understanding of a father’s love has been a long time coming. My earthly father did the best he could. I got that. The love of our heavenly Father is so much more. 

My wife, my best friend. I cannot imagine life without her. The goofy buy true saying, "She completes me," fits here. 

My kids -- they are my joy. I am so proud to be their father, and I love them dearly. How much more? What else can be said?

One of my close friends said something very profound to me not long ago. We were talking about doing something over a weekend, a guy’s weekend -- no kids, no wives. He said he would have to think about it. He said he only had 120 Saturdays left before his son turned 18, and he did not want to miss one. That comment went deep inside of me. I am convicted and struggling to reason with that. His love for family and an acute awareness of time was something God wanted me to hear. 

God's love can be hard to understand at those times He stands beside us as we experience hurt in our lives. Like a good Father, one who lets their child learn hard lessons so they can be stronger later, one who is there when their child falls to help them up. He might not stop us from falling, but He is there to comfort and love us when we do.

Each day we awaken to a new sunrise, a chance to live life differently. Are we going to wake up and be angry at the world, our wives, family? Does that emotion take us out or fill us up with that feeling we know as love? Valentine's Day is full of amazing opportunities to make right some of the things we do. You know what they are. I am also claiming it as a calorie-free holiday. Chocolate, a nice meal, treats and desserts are all off the grid for the day if you use them to show your love to someone for whom you care. Know, too, that the little things make a huge impact on those you care about. 

Jodi Foster and I never got to meet, and I think God knew best there. My wife, on occasion, scratches my back -- a never-ending delight. Each day is an amazing gift, and I am trying my best to take each one and use it to His delight. Of my past 636 Saturdays I have made some good, some not so good choices. I am praying that the ones I have left matter. 

The moment you have in your heart this extraordinary thing called love and feel the depth, the delight, the ecstasy of it, you will discover that for you the world is transformed.
Jiddu Krishnamurti

The Amazing Heart

The heart. Definition:  An incredible muscle in our body that works its tail off to keep us alive. Interesting facts: The average adult heart beats 72 times a minute; 100,000 times a day; 3,600,000 times a year; and 2.5 billion times during a lifetime. Though weighing only 11 ounces on average, a healthy heart pumps 2,000 gallons of blood through 60,000 miles of blood vessels each day. A kitchen faucet would need to be turned on all the way for at least 45 years to equal the amount of blood pumped by the heart in an average lifetime. During an average lifetime, the heart will pump nearly 1.5 million gallons of blood—enough to fill 200 train tank cars. Grab a tennis ball and squeeze it tightly: that’s how hard the beating heart works to pump blood. Interesting.

When I was working a temporary job in Houston a few years ago, I had full coverage insurance. I used that opportunity to have a complete heart checkup. They put me on a monitor, a treadmill, scans, x-rays and more. The whole time asking me why was I there. I just wanted to know that my heart was solid. 

When they were done the report came back. Physically I was in great shape, the heart was good. No problems, and no reason to worry. 

My concern since then is still my heart, but it is not so much the muscle sweating in my chest, but the emotional, gut feeling, driving force that works as hard or harder as its physical brother. It is that deep inside feeling, that over the top elation, the ground pounding sadness, the quiet comfort.

My heart hurts when I hear stories of loneliness, abandon, loss and confusion. I can be moved to tears just watching a show or even a commercial on television. This morning as we were leaving our men's Bible study, one of our guys told how he was worried about his aging father -- how his dad was getting older and falling a lot. In his eyes you could see the pain his heart was feeling. He was asking what to do, how to help, how to be helpful without disrespect to his dad. He said, "Next week we are going to have to pray for him." Well my buddy and I just smiled and said in unison, "Let's pray right now."  And we did.  The heartfelt joy of prayer is new for me in the last few years; sharing it is awesome, and I dig it.

The hearts of children are a big part of my life with our ministry today. I love experiencing the overflow of love from the unspoiled places they carry inside. They will also share the deepest pain. Kids will say what they feel, what they think, what they have experienced and so often God speaks through them. We miss a lot when we do not listen to kids as we look into their eyes.

My kids are all going through some tough times in their lives. New schools, new friends, new experiences. It is so hard sometimes to not just swoop in and rescue them. We try to make sure we cover everything, begin and end everything, struggles to victories, with prayer. It doesn't always take away the hurts and provide immediate answers, but knowing God is listening and that we’ll eventually see His answer is comforting to my heart. The struggles can remain, but faith is the corner.

Zig Ziglar was an amazing motivational speaker who recently passed away. He was incredible. I read his books and went to see him when he was speaking in town. Millions of people took to heart his teachings and changed their lives forever. Once when I had the chance to meet him in person I had my Bible with me and asked him to autograph it. He was a mighty man of and for God. I was seeking to really make a difference in the world, to fill a huge hole in my heart with meaning. He wrote, "To Thomas, Romans 10:9," Zig Ziglar. Romans 10:9 says, "If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved." That day, that gift of a specific Scripture verse began to help me fill that space in my heart.

So I guess the thread I am trying to weave with here is that the heart you feel with is real, important and needs care. We are all designed perfectly to do something amazing. All the hardships and victories, the good and the bad, all those experiences have prepared each of us to do something incredible. For me that journey began when I prayed that prayer Zig Ziglar shared with me so long ago. 

Yes, the chicken fried bacon in Snook, Texas, is incredible. I love a whole plate of sweet potato fries from anywhere. A burger with everything on it is my favorite meal. Are these the best choices for me today if I am trying to care for the heart muscle in my chest? Not always. I know to be careful, smart.

Ah, but it is the emotional heart inside that is always hungry for more. The new year is upon us. Seize the day, don't wait. Ask God into your life and begin the adventure you never thought possible. The one your heart is seeking in those still and quiet moments -- today it begins. Romans 10:9.