Great power can be revealed when we are powerless. Gentle, healing power. When time no longer matters and all we can do is survive, we are suddenly, yet quietly reminded there is power we are not equipped to reach.

We cannot always stop the destruction we see. Whether it be the little lost life of a child or a massive mess of chaos, there are times we can do little more than prepare, watch and hope.

The healing journey is never easy. But we can be made new when time no longer matters because we have infinitely more to invest into each little new step. No longer slaves to shame or pride we will rest in that we cannot reach. And be fulfilled by simple, graceful, healing power.

Mopsy at Lifenut tagged me to write an idiosyncrasies meme. Not really my bag, but she threatened to flush the toilet every time I get in the shower. Okay. I’ll do it. But I’m likely to be a dead end.

1. I can’t wear sandals! I’ve tried and I continue to try. I even own a pair right now which I put on for a total sum of like 5 hours per year. Well, more like 10 days per year. If I wear a pair of sandals more than one hour my feet literally start aching to wear socks and shoes.

2. Movie Theaters: I must always sit in the center of the center row (or as close to this location as possible). When I was younger, if I sat on the aisle I almost always got a headache from the screen flickering. Now I just can’t sit anywhere else. There are a number of side effects to this idiosyncrasy which could easily be listed as separate items. Okay, they are:

3. Movie arrival time: I need be at the movie theater and have ticket in hand at least 30 minutes prior to the start of the film – 45 minutes or more for major releases. This um need usually helps me get to my center seat. Ask my wife how serious I am about this. The first time we went to a movie together in Grand Junction I wanted to be at the theater 45 minutes before the start of the film. Little did I know that measure of padding could afford me a full dinner and a stop at the book store with enough time left to still by popcorn before finding my center seat.

4. Movie Credits: Why doesn’t anyone else ever sit through the credits?

5. Writing: It almost always takes me 2 hours to write anything. A poem? Two hours. A 40 page dissertation on the social economic changes industrial societies affect on tribal villages? Two hours. This blog entry? Take a guess.

Feel the pressure Nini. I’m increasing your tag count to two. Daph, you can have at it also.

First the microwave.
Now the refrigerator.
What’s next?

I don’t like guessing at this game, but I suspect I’ll have plenty of time. The refrigerator didn’t break until after I bought a replacement for the microwave. A repairman isn’t due out to look at the refrigerator until Monday.

I told the service representative 2 adults and 5 kids eating without a refrigerator for 6 days would cost about as much as a new crappy fridge. Based on the response I got I’m beginning to think a new crappy fridge is a lot better than the wait…

We¹ gave Sammyball two light sabers for his birthday this year. Why two? Well, we¹ decided it would be a good idea for Sam to share one with his brothers. And, of course, one cannot have a true light saber duel with only one saber.

The problem is two light sabers are not enough to share between four brothers. This problem often reveals itself in the form of screaming and the bashing in of heads (with or without a light saber in hand). This problem became so frequent we² were starting to feel like diplomats negotiating arms treaties. As is often the case, most of our appeals for peace ended in escalated tension and sometimes, outright war.

So, we¹ decided to resolve the problem by issuing a third light saber. Thus ensuring a balance of power between the oldest three countries. This strategy turned out an obvious flaw with which we² are still trying to cope.

The youngest country… er brother, immediately voiced his opinion at having NOT been offered the advantage of the other three. He decided the best course is to procure the nearest light saber and then proclaim it his. He does this by shouting, “MINE!” whilst using the claimed light saber to clobber anyone who dares approach him.

Tomorrow, we³ plan to restore a balance of power to these warring states by purchasing a fourth light saber. I am fairly confident this will resolve the escalating tensions by elevating each brother to an equal balance of power — at which time I’m sure they’ll immediately resume their regular hostilities by fighting over who gets to clobber whom with what color.

If I play my cards right I can settle the next round of squabbling by granting favors to the kid who submits the most promising bribe. “Hey dad. I’ll take out the garbage tonight!” Yeah, I can just see the 22-month-old saying that.

Great! I never wanted to be a diplomat and now I’m starting to sound like a politician. This parenting business is a slippery slope indeed!

¹ By “we” I mean my wife.

² This we actually is we – both me and my wife. However I should point out the suffering experienced by the two of us is actually a result of her actions, not ours, as indicated by the previous we’s in the text.

³ You’re darn right I’m dragging her into this even if she doesn’t know about my, I mean our, plan.

(For Jim)

I can live in this desert,
without the rain.
I don’t need the company of fool’s gold
to keep me warm.
But the dirt covers me.
It keeps out the light.

Breath of Life clean me.
Send Your warm touch to
sweep away the dust.
Surround me.

The skies are clear.
The sun bright and near,
it bakes the ground; kilns my heart.
I’m frozen.
I can’t reach the sky.

Breath of Life free me.
Send Your cool breeze to
loose the rust.
Make me stand.

The clouds don’t block my view.
At night I can see to the heavens
and the stars keep me company.
They anchor me.

Breath of Life move me
push me on to new horizons
so I can wander for you.

Breath of Life clean me
Breath of Life free me
Breath of Life move me
Breath of Life change me forevermore.

Breath of Life I want to dance for You.
In the sun and when it rains
I will wander where you tell me to.

Breath of Life clean me
Breath of Life free me
Breath of Life move me
Breath of Life change me forevermore.

I met the most energetic employee ever. He is either on speed, or too frequently partaking in his employment benefits. He works at a donut shop.

I know the sugar flows from those places like water over Niagara Falls — and I’m an early riser, but just talking to the guy made me feel syrupy for the rest of the week.

I shudder to think about the poor souls crawling into the store early on a Monday morning just looking for a cup of coffee and a quick bite to eat. To such a person the sudden bombardment of high octane happiness would create an instant hang-over rivaled only by college fraternity initiations. That’s only if the person had retired the previous evening at say 7:30, after finishing Sense and Sensibility. Someone with an actual hangover would have exploded on the spot.

My experience was something more like this. (Think Bob Newhart talking to John Candy).

Donut Man: HEY THERE! GREAT TO SEE YOU! HOW ARE YOU THIS MORING? DO YOU WANT A DONUT? HOW ABOUT SOME COFFEE? OR A TEA? WE’VE GOT A LOT OF FRESH DONUTS THIS MORING.

Me: Um, yeah. I’d like a dozen donuts.

Donut Man: JUST A DOZEN?!?! WOW! HOW ABOUT TWO OR THREE DOZEN? YOU SURE A DOZEN IS ENOUGH? HOW ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE IT THROUGH THE DAY ON JUST A DOZEN? THREE SOUND GOOD?

Me: Just a dozen. Maybe a couple more.

Donut Man: GREAT. HEY, WHAT KIND YOU WANT?

Me: Four glazed. Four chocolate glazed, and…

Donut Man: YOU WANT THE CHOCOLATE GLAZED OR THE CHOCOLATE ICED OR DO YOU WANT A TWIST? THOSE ARE ALWAYS GOOD.

Me: Just the chocolate glazed. And two bizmarks.

Donut Man: BIZMARK IS SUCH A COOL NAME! HEY LOOK AT YOUR SHIRT!!! (reading it bottom to top) “£ 10,000 HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CHICKEN?” WOW ! THAT IS SO COOL. A CHICKEN, HUH? HEY YOU MUST HAVE BEEN TO ENGLAND.

Me: Actually, my brother-in-law. It’s from Wallace and Grommit.

Donut Man: WOW! SO JUST THESE TWO DONUTS, MAN? ARE YOU SURE THAT’S ENOGH?

Me: Well, there’s the dozen.
Donut Man: WOW! RIGHT! I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT THOSE. IS THAT GOING TO BE ENOGH?!?! HOW ABOUT ANOTHER COUPLE DOZEN?

Me: (trying to pay now) Just these.

Donut Man: COOL! WOW! WELL HERE YOU GO. YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY. WOW!

Me (leaving) I feel like I have a hangover.

Like most fathers I don’t get to see first hand all the kids’ exploits. I don’t get to “work at home” like my wife. But my she often calls to tell me little stories throughout each day. In some ways the stories tell me more about the kids than I would learn first hand. I think it’s because the stories give me the chance to dive into my imagination again — to go to the one place I am most like my children.

A few days ago my wife told me a story something like this:

Guess what Sammyball prayed at lunch today? He prayed, “Dear God, please let a bunch of pigs come visit our house.” Of course, on hearing that prayer Boo had to add his plea as well, “Dear God, please bring some ducks to our house and let them come inside and play with us.”

It’s important to me to teach my kids to be comfortable talking to me. I want them to feel comfortable talking to me about their hopes, their fears, anything. I often pray for God to help me have the type of relationhip with my children He wants me to have with Him. (I also pray to be filled with the patience, the grace, and forgiveness toward them He gives me).

But more important I want my kids to know whatever their relationship with me they can go to God with an open heart bearing anything. This week I got to hear how two of my little ones demonstrated the kind of openness I still struggle to achieve.

I just wonder when the pigs and ducks will get here and what kind of hospitality they’ll expect.

What does staining a desk have to do with moving?

Everything. Especially when one’s wife is anxious to have the “reading room” properly decorated. The critical element is a $10 writing desk won at a silent auction, and craftily sold to me shortly after. The desk has been waiting for me for several months. My promise to my wife was to finish it for our new house. Since I didn’t want to damage a new finish during the move I was left trying to do all the work during the week after the move.

I started the project last Friday. Last night I applied the final polyurethane coat. Assuming everything dries properly I’ll get to move the monster into the house this afternoon.

Then I get to paint my daughter’s room, the kids’ desk — to go in the playroom, the cabinet with glass doors — to go somewhere near the kitchen, and refinish the desk drawers — which are sitting in the garage next to their host.

How did my move get to be so complicated?