Photo by goto10 via Flickr (Creative Commons)

“Let’s go watch freshmen arrival day!”

I have a sick sense of humor. But I loved being on campus the day the new freshmen arrived at Moody. And one year I really did take the day off to enjoy the drama and help out a little bit with confused parents and freshmen.

It’s a day full of highs and lows. For incoming freshmen its a huge day when their parents drive away and they have to figure out life without the security blanket. For parents you can tell its a bit rough. Well, not for everyone. But its rough for some parents!

The joke was that you could tell birth order by how many people made the trip.

• First born: The whole family came even if they drove from across the country. Mom, dad, and siblings all waited in line for the dorm room keys and welcome packet. Little brothers wandered the courtyard while mom and dad made nervous small talk with other parents. After they get all of their kids stuff into the tiny dorm room, they explored campus a little before taking their child out for one last meal together. They walked, ever so slowly, back to campus. If mom can think of anything they’ve forgotten she will stall it by making a trip to Target. But in the end, before dinner, there would be tears as they drove away. The first born would hold it together at least until the car was out of sight.
• Middle child: Typically, one parent made the trip for boys and both came if it was a girl. Since they knew what to expect they would make their child stand in line while the parents unloaded the car. With keys in hand they did the whole routine a bit faster. And the whole thing was noticeably less emotional. They would drop everything off in the room, make a quick run for lunch, and try to get out of their child’s hair fairly quickly. Interestingly, it was usually the child who was left crying on the curb as the parents drove off. Almost in shock… as if to say, “But when you dropped off Chip you stayed a lot longer, you just left me here?” Once a middle child, always a middle child. Suck it up, kid.
• The baby: This was an either or scenario. And the truth was that I would just hang out on freshmen day to see how it went. Some families just sent dad. You could always tell this scenario by where dad had parked. He would pull into the visitors lot in the family minivan and park in the 15 minute zone. Immediate loading and unloading only. Dad would get out of the van looking at his watch. He’d carefully unload all of the kids stuff onto the sidewalk while the child raced to go get a cart. Typically, the child would return just as dad was finishing up. The child expected dad to load up the cart and go upstairs… just like they had with the other kids. But dad would look at his watch, then point to the 15 minute parking sign. He’d give a hug to his baby and get in the car. Stunned, volunteers would help the student with her things while dad zipped out of the parking lot, and the child cried. Dad would give one look back and race off with a huge smile. The other scenario was equally funny. Mom and dad would make the journey, unpack the car, give their kid a hug… and hold hands as they basically skipped back to their car. As they pulled away, the windows were rolled down and Barry White was blasting. Something tells me mom and dad got a hotel room nearby… just in case their child needed them, of course. Freedom!

My first freshmen day

I was an atypical freshman at Moody. Since I needed to pay my own way through school, I actually had moved to campus in May of my senior year to start working full time. (I skipped the last 2 weeks of school, then came for graduation.) But about two weeks before classes started they allowed us to move from our summer dorms onto the floor we’d been assigned.

This meant that I was the only one on the 7th floor for two weeks. (Uh, since I had a master key, I confess I moved in a few weeks early. Don’t tell the dean.) Since I wasn’t arriving for freshmen orientation and I was done with my campus job, I actually lost track of which day people showed up. Somewhere in there my RA had came. But he had gone to a retreat and was never around. Essentially, I was by myself on a floor with 16 rooms. It was a big empty space and I’d had fun figuring out things to do in my spare time.

Somewhere in those two weeks it became a habit that I’d not carry clothes to the showers. It was funny as an 18 year old to walk the long hallway to the bathroom naked. Who am I kidding? Given the same choice I’d probably do the same thing today.

So, on freshmen check-in day, I was leaving the bathroom and heading back to my room. I had my towel over my shoulder and that was it. As I went to put the key in my door I heard a gasp. Yup, a first born was checking in down the hall. Mom, dad, and kid sister had an interesting first meeting with their sons floor mate!

Oops.

After that, I got dressed and went through the line to officially check-in. The girl in front of me wouldn’t stop talking. She thought she had met her husband. And I got introduced to the idea of a stalker.

Wipeout is a metephor for life

The thing that I really love about Wipeout is that I can see myself being on the show. There is something about the story of the show that makes me want to insert myself into the narrative. I don’t know about you, but when I watch the show I’m constantly thinking about how I would react to a situation or how I would have done it differently.

Watching other people fall, fail, and probably get hurt is attractive to me.

There is something so train wreck about Wipeout that makes it interesting and intruiging.

I want it. But what is “it?”

Why can’t I stop watching?!?

3rd person perspective

I like it because I am not in it. The reason it is so funny on television is because the people on the ground are in the first person and they are forced to think linear about Wipeout while at home we are in the third person and can see everything.

They only get to see what is in front of them. They don’t know how other players have completed the obstacle. They don’t have the view we have at home. We are above the action while they are in it.

They are trying to problem solve the maze of each apparatus in real time first person.

We are the humans watching the mouse work its way through a complicated maze. When you have a third person perspective, the game is easy and the mouse looks stupid.

Person after person makes the same mistake and you are left to just scream at the television… “Don’t do it that way! You’re going to fa… Oh, did you see him fall? Ouch!”

The Wipeout mousetrap forces the participant into A vs. B thinking while the third person perspective clearly shows the answer is either A or B.

Sometimes the answer is C

My life is sometimes an episode of Wipeout. Life often feels squished into a maze of A & B choices.

But I’m learning more and more that the answer in A & B circumstances is actually C.

• C: None of the above
• C: All of the above
• C: Another idea

This is why life isn’t Wipeout.

Life feels like a series of A or B choices. And if you get them right, you’ll succeed in life.

But that’s incorrect. Life is full of choices that look like A vs. B. But C is often the only right answer.

Stuck?

I know a lot of people who feel stuck right now.

They don’t feel like life affords them a lot of options.

“Do I continue down this path or do I start something new?”

“I hate my job but the economy sucks and I don’t want to be unemployed right now.”

The trick is not settling for A or B when the answer might be C.

The answer is– adjust your perspective.

Photo by fengschwing via Flickr (Creative Commons)

Am I the only one who notices that adults seem to obsessed about teenage lives? More to the point, we seem obsessed with pointing out how we need to intervene before they destroy themselves and the human race.

Our culture takes a very negative view of people between the ages of 13-18. If you work with them, you are used to folks turning up their noses when you tell them you love working with that age group.

Here are some recent headlines to illustrate the point:

School: Little as they try, students can’t get a D here [New York Times] more articles…

Sleep: Lack of sleep linked to obesity for teen boys [Time Magazine] more articles…

Sex: Teenage girls rely on the rhythm method [What is the trend] more articles…

Crime: States rethink “adult time for adult crime” [CNN] more articles…

Forgive me if the links provided aren’t damning evidence. You are welcome to browse my entire body of hundreds of news articles on adolescence to get a better flavor. What I am talking about is not a hot pile of evidence. It is a slow burn of negative views on adolescents as well as adult desires to fix teenagers.

Another angle that demonstrates this is our wonderment over a teenager who does something good. Sail around the world? Shocking! Raise money for a worthy cause? News at 11! Start a successful business? Give her an award!

It seems that those news stories are of interest, in part, because we expect teenagers to only do negative/self-destructive things and when they do something amazing it must be newsworthy.

Three observations I want to point out on this topic

1. Jesus is their savior, you aren’t.
2. Have you ever wondered why sports are so popular with adolescents? Maybe it’s the easiest place for them to achieve and/or exceed expectations.
3. Teenagers have about the same grades, sleep about the same, have the same amount of sex, and commit the same amount of crimes that they always have. Our obsessing over it only reveals something twisted in our lives and not theirs.

No seriously.

Books are great. Reading is fundamental. I’m all about practical resources and history and stories that carry you away to far away lands.

But lets not get to the point where we stop thinking creatively about resourcing ourselves. Or acting in a way worthy of a historian writing about us. Or living a life that is a fantastic story which carries us to far away lands.

You don’t change the world by sitting on a couch and reading a book. Change is an action.

Don’t use books as a way to wuss out.

Think for yourself.

Act for yourself.

You can create.

Put the books down and get outside– live a story-worthy life.

Inspiration is one thing. Inaction is unforgiveable.

Photo by Mayr via Flickr (Creative Commons)

The mind is a funny thing.

Years ago I memorized Philippians 4 as part of my devotional time. For me, I find Bible memory a great way to focus my sometimes unfocusable mind. And I find that I live out Scripture better when it is embedded in my head as opposed to plucked from a book.

You can memorize a large chunk of Scripture and then it just kind of sits there, on ice, waiting to be used again. So I was a bit surprised to wake up with this stuck on repeat this morning:

Philippians 4

Therefore, my brothers, you whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, that is how you should stand firm in the Lord, dear friends!

Exhortations

I plead with Euodia and I plead with Syntyche to agree with each other in the Lord. Yes, and I ask you, loyal yokefellow, help these women who have contended at my side in the cause of the gospel, along with Clement and the rest of my fellow workers, whose names are in the book of life.Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

Thanks for Their Gifts

I rejoice greatly in the Lord that at last you have renewed your concern for me. Indeed, you have been concerned, but you had no opportunity to show it. I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.Yet it was good of you to share in my troubles. Moreover, as you Philippians know, in the early days of your acquaintance with the gospel, when I set out from Macedonia, not one church shared with me in the matter of giving and receiving, except you only; for even when I was in Thessalonica, you sent me aid again and again when I was in need. Not that I am looking for a gift, but I am looking for what may be credited to your account. I have received full payment and even more; I am amply supplied, now that I have received from Epaphroditus the gifts you sent. They are a fragrant offering, an acceptable sacrifice, pleasing to God. And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.

To our God and Father be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

It’s always shocked me that a man could write these words while in prison. Rejoice? You’re chained to a wall, dude! Peace of God? Are you freaking kidding me! Think about praiseworthy stuff? I’d be thinking about busting out! Your joy and crown? Are you blind! You can’t even see daylight from where you are.

And yet, that’s what Paul wrote as he closed out his letter to the church in Philippi.

Photo by Teresia via Flickr (Creative Commons)

The last couple of days have been filled with anxiety for me. It’s unexplainable and irrational. Factually, I have nothing to be anxious about! I don’t know if its tied to my re-entry or what, but it’s been driving me nuts. On Thursday, as I rode my bike home I just kept having this feeling that I was about to get hit by a car. Then as I sat on the trolley a silly thought came into my mind about a woman seated near me. She was wearing a big, heavy jacket and my imagination got the best of me. I couldn’t shake the idea that maybe she was a suicide bomber and I kind of panicked. The whole way home my heart and mind were racing. I was laughing at myself the whole time. But I just had a hard time shaking it, too.

Philippians 4 helped calm me down and brought me back to a rational state in that moment.

That little episode of stray anxiety reminded me that we live in an anxious society. Our nation is filled with people who are 99.9% secure but still filled with fear. We have access to everything at nearly any moment and yet we only think about how we can get more. We almost never suffer. We almost never go hungry. We almost never want for anything we actually need. So we become anxious for more security, less chance of suffering, more food, and more stuff.

Literally, we (myself included) are sick because we have too much. And we are still anxious for more.

Perhaps I am not alone in needing the truths of Philippians 4 to bring me back to reality in moments of silly panic?

Photo by capn madd matt via Flickr (Creative Commons)

One of the things that golf has taught me about life is that you can turn a bad day into a solid day by being disciplined.

In competitive golf, discipline and composure are the equalizers. When you are playing against someone who is either better than you or the same level as you, you are basically trying to keep up and hope that your competitor cracks under the pressure of your hanging around.

I’ve played against and beaten much better golfers than myself. I’ve even beaten better golfers than myself when I wasn’t playing particularly well.

If you’ve watched a major championship on television… you’ve seen this.

This is usually why a young gun golfer will do well for the first three days but quickly fall off on Sunday morning. The more experienced and disciplined players just kind of hang around and one by one… the less disciplined players explode under the pressure around them. The commentators say, “The field is backing up.” That’s a nice way to say it.

What do I do when things start to fall apart?

I hit the 7 iron.

For me, the 7 iron is the safest club in my bag. I know I can hit it straight every time and between 160-170 yards. So when I’m not playing well… I start to hit the 7 iron a lot. Am I pulling everything to the left or slicing everything into the trees? I just grab my 7 iron and go to work.

One of the tricks I liked to teach my high school golfers was to take the length of the hole and just divide it in half. If a hole is 360 yards… you don’t have to hit the driver. You can very comfortably hit your favorite club twice and still be on the green with a putt for birdie. (To a 15 year old who just learned how to hit 300 yard drives… it’s talking to a wall.) A par 5, 510 yards? That’s just three 7 irons to the green.

Sure, that’s not a sexy way to play golf. But it is an efficient one.

One time I was playing in a match with a player much better than me. And on that day I wasn’t playing particularly well. After 9 holes I was down big. He had shot a 39 and I was at 46. And I had chipped in a birdie on the 9th hole to get to that.

Making up 7 strokes over the last 9 holes seemed impossible. That’s too much. The match was essentially over.

As my competitor drank a Gatorade and talked on the phone I switched strategies as I put the ball on the tee of the 10th hole. I looked at my driver, twisted it around in my hands a few times, then headed back to the bag. The driver had failed me for the last time that day. I love hitting the ball far. There are fewer things in life more exhilarating than hitting a golf ball 300+ yards. But the driver had dug me into a deep hole and I had to put it away.

I pulled out the 7 iron. Taking a quick practice swing I just put the ball in play about 170 yards out. The guy I was playing with kind of laughed, hung up the phone, and pulled out his driver. Sure enough, he bombed the ball 150 yards over mine. We both parred the hole and moved to the 11th. Hole by hole, I just kind of worked my way through the course. A par here and a birdie there.

My competitor, full of confidence, gave up a couple strokes here and there, but never thought about it.

Standing on the 18th tee, a long par 5, the guy I was playing against finally did the math. He had played pretty poorly on the back 9 and I had hit this stupid 7 iron all over the golf course and played pretty well. He was 4 over on the back and I was 2 under.

That left me just one shot back with one hole to play. And he was suddenly quite interested in the match once again!

I hit my 7 iron to the top of the hill. He bombed his driver way, WAY to the bottom of the hill. He gave me a look as if to say, “Take that 7 iron boy.”

When we got to the top of the hill we both started to look down the fairway… his ball wasn’t in the fairway. It was either in the tiny strip of rough or it had gone too far, into the pond. I hit my second shot short of the pond, just and easy 160 yards to the green left. I looked at him and said, “You might want to go back and hit a provisional, just in case you are in the water.”

He was furious! He dropped his bag and grabbed a ball for the walk back to the tee.

We both knew his ball had gone in the water.

Sure enough, his provisional ball sailed into the trees and bounced around before settling in the rough with a tree between his ball and the green. He had completely lost his composure.

With the lost ball and hitting from the rough, I was clearly at the advantage with my ball sitting pretty in the fairway. Faced with an impossible shot around a tree and up the hill to the green… he went for the green. He nearly pulled it off but came up short and landed in the bunker. He was going to have to hole out from the sand for a par, but it was an ugly situation. Meanwhile, I hit my 3rd shot safely into the middle of the green and needed only an easy 2-putt to secure a par.

He went first. With the slope going away from him the ball came out of the bunker hot and slid all the way to the fringe… about 75 feet from the hole.

He’d have that left for a chance to tie the match my imminent par. The pressure was getting to him. I think he was embarrassed by the whole situation. He had already bragged to people that he had easily beaten me. And now it looked like he was going to need a miracle just to tie. He couldn’t figure out how I had climbed back into the match and now… on the last hole… had a putt for birdie while he had to pray for a miracle just for a bogey to tie!

He quickly lined up and sent his hail mary towards the cup. He came up about 5 feet short. Cuss words emitted from every pour of his body.

With a victory secured, I lined up a 20 foot putt straight up the hill. I gave it a whack and… sure enough… it dropped in for a birdie. Hey, why not?

My 7 iron strategy had salvaged a victory.

The score card looked like this:

I guess the life lesson in this is pretty simple, isn’t it? You don’t have to be the best at what you do to succeed. But you do need to know what you are good at and have the discipline to execute that one thing over and over again.

It doesn’t matter how many times you read the story of the tortoise and the hare. The tortoise always wins.

HT to Mint

Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” says the LORD Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it. Malachi 3:10

I’ve heard and read this verse a ton of times. And the phrase that has always popped out to me is– “test me in this.” It’s one of those passages of the Bible that you read and think that it can’t literally be true.

If I trust God with my money will he really pour out so much blessing that I won’t know what to do?

Sounds like a load of bull spoken by a TV preacher trying to build his version of Disneyland, right?

As I’m learning– maybe not.

I don’t often write about things that are happening RIGHT NOW in my life. As much of myself as I share, I tend to let things percolate a little bit and mellow into principle before I try to capture my thoughts in words.

But the last few days I’ve just come home and looked at Kristen and said– “My life is crazy right now. I can’t hardly explain it. All awesome stuff.”

Two photos really capture visually what I’m having a hard time processing into words.

1. The juggler.

Photo by Andy_Tyler via Flickr (Creative Commons)

My work life is a constant juggling act. Big projects, little projects, add leadership over one area and support over another. Go on the road to do one thing while keeping everything in order on something else. It’s a good kind of juggling. As my co-workers know, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Even when I come home I’m still juggling all sorts of personal and McLane Creative projects. From a thriving garden to the latest social media campaign– I’ve just got a lot of balls in the air.

Juggling requires constant attention. And when people see a juggler they like to ask you one important question… can you juggle one more ball? Sometimes I shrug my shoulders yes and sometimes I shrug my shoulders no.

2. The overflowing cup

Photo by shioshvili via Flickr (Creative Commons)

Is Malachi 3:10 really literally true? It sure seems that way right now. The last month was filled with unexpected showers of awesome. Several people and organizations are asking for quotes for new web designs. Several outlets are looking for me to write for them. Our community group is doing some cool things. In a few weeks Lisa is coming here for the summer. In June, Kristen and I have planned an amazing local vacation capped off by a fun celebration. My second trip to Haiti is coming together and basically full. And in the last 2-3 days a whole new shower of unexpected blessings has come my way– earth shakingly awesome stuff, too!

If you bump into me these days I’ve kind of got this crazed mad Scientist look going. Buggy wide eyes, haven’t slept, and a scary perma grin.

OK, not that guy.

More like that.

This video illustrates this passage so well, doesn’t it? It’s shocked me to see people jump on the bandwagon against Tiger Woods. Shame on us for thinking for a second that he was less a man than you or I.

“We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. 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. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.”
Romans 7:14-20

I know there are a great number of strong Christian men on the PGA Tour, I hope that those guys get to walk alongside Tiger– loser to loser– and talk about doing life better.

On Sunday, my 6 year old son Paul, wanted to go to Game Stop to look for a new game for his Nintendo DS. When I was in first grade I got an Atari 2600 and that thing was my life. The same is true of Paul and his DS. We share this heart connection over video games.

All day long he wanted to go. He first asked about it before we went to church. No son, too early. Then he wanted to go right after church. No son, we need to eat lunch. Then he wanted to go right after lunch. No son, I want to rest. Then we went to Yogurtland as a family for a snack. While it was just a couple hundred yards from Game Stop, the timing wasn’t right. Then we got home from Yogurtland. No son, you need to do some homework. Then he did some homework and I ran out of excuses.

Can we go to Game Stop now? Yes.

Paul and Megan had each been saving their allowance and happily stuffed their pockets with every penny they had. Each week they can earn up to $5 if they maintain the family rules and perform some basic chores. The truth is that it’s a pretty easy $5 to earn as I’m a softy of a dad. (Kristen rolls her eyes at me each week as she doesn’t think they’ve really earned $5. I’m a benevolent father, what can I say?) Megan had $25 in her pocket and Paul had $23. As we drove the few blocks over to the video game store Paul was careful, yet firm, to remind me that I had been in Minneapolis last Sunday and mommy hadn’t given them their $5. And that it was also Sunday. So if they would each clean their room and finish their homework they could earn another $5.

Practically speaking, Megan had $35 she could spend and Paul had $33. When you are 6 or 8 years old, like my kids, that’s a lot of cash. It represents 7 weeks of saving every penny you have. They were aware that the money burning a hole in their pocket represented a lot of homework and a lot of room cleaning and a lot of avoiding temptation to buy candy or smaller toys. To earn and save over $30 is an accomplishment! Truth be told, $35 is a lot of money to daddy, too! I rarely, if ever, carry that much cash with me. (Do I need to mention that saving $30 is more than most Americans save in the same amount of time?)

It was a lot of money. I was proud of them.

We parked the car and the kids floated into the store. Paul, who had been to the store with me twice before, instructed his big sister on the game plan. “The DS games are on the wall by the front door… you don’t even need to ask anyone, just start looking as soon as you get in the door and they are right there. The used games are on the lower parts of the shelf. The new games are up high. Used games are cheaper so you can get one for like $10. New games cost more than $20.”

The store was full of older kids looking at XBox 360 games so we were completely ignored. The girl at the counter barely acknowledged our entrance and quickly got back to showing the older kids the latest and greatest in the world of gaming. They were boys who play video games and she was a girl. This was the closest thing any of those nerds would come to a date for a long time.

My kids didn’t notice or care about the clerk. They had serious business to do.

Megan, our animal lover, scoured the lower shelves for used games about pets. There are games to take care of dogs, cats, birds, exotic animals… on and on. Some games have a lot of different pets while others specialize in a certain pet. Megan loves cats and within minutes she was trying to decide between one game which was about cats of all ages and another that was just about kittens. 1000 titles and my girl had it narrowed to two in about 3 minutes. I noticed she was happy in the $10-20 range. She carried a certain confidence in knowing that she didn’t have to spend much money to get a fun game to play with. Plus, if she only spent $15, she’d have $20 left over.

Paul scoured the shelves looking for Pokemon games. He found 4-5 games that all looked about the same but had different price points. Confused, I showed him how to find the copyright date on the back of the game. The newer ones were more expensive, the older ones cheaper.

As Megan and I were comparing the two games she had narrowed her choice down to, I saw out of the corner of my eye that Paul had put all of his games back on the lower shelf where he had found them. He took a couple steps back and craned his neck almost to the ceiling. Not quite 4 feet tall it must have been nearly impossible to see games on shelves 8 feet in the air. He was looking at the brand new games. His eyes scanned the best sellers on the top shelf. Then they started looking at the second shelf and stopped cold. The brand new, special edition Bakugan Battle Brawlers game.

He pulled on my waist. “Daddy, look! It’s the brand new Bakugan game… it comes in a big box, too. How much is that one?” I reached up and took it off the shelf, handing it to him. His eyes were huge. His entire disposition had changed. He had gone from hunting for something cheap to discovering something almost mystical and beyond comprehension. As the game box changed hands his eyes devoured the front cover and started to read it all to me. Then he turned it over and realized something horrible. It was $35. His heart sank.

Almost immediately he gave it back to me. In an instant he went from this mystical experience right back to shopper mode. “No one has that game at school yet, daddy. It’s too much, I don’t have $35 I only have $23 and you owe us $10 more, that’s just $33. And that game is more than I have.”

I knew he wanted it bad. He didn’t cry but I could feel his disappointment. Within 15 seconds he had gone through a sea of emotions. Searching, finding, holding magic, disappointment, and then back to searching.

This little interaction tugged my heart.

He walked away and went back to the older Pokemon games. He wasn’t unhappy or upset. In earlier years he may have collapsed on the floor. He was just matter of fact. This was a sign of my little boy growing up. He wanted a new game for his DS and the fact that he didn’t have enough money didn’t mean he couldn’t get a new game. It just meant he had to get a game that wasn’t exactly what everything he wanted.

Back by the Pokeman games on the lower shelf, I went over to him and crouched down to his level. You know Paul, you have $33 and that game is $35. You are pretty close. Just $2 away. Next week you would have enough to buy it. “I know, it’s OK. I’ll just get one of these. I really want that game but I don’t have enough right now.”

“Paul,” I said, “you remember that we have a rule that if you want to borrow next weeks allowance to get something now, that it’s OK. You just have to ask daddy.”

I got up and went back over to Megan. But I kept a close eye on my son. I knew that I had put him in a tough spot. He is wired just like me. He doesn’t like to ask anyone for anything. He knew that I would loan him the extra $5 so he could buy what he wanted. But asking dad for the loan was really hard.

As he looked at the lesser games I could see him biting his lip. He really wanted the Bakugan game. The fact that it came with an action figure made those lesser games seem really inferior.

But asking daddy for $5? That was a dilemma.

He looked at the Pokeman games. They now weren’t what he wanted. I watched him wrestling through the McLane stubborn nature. It’s something I know all-too-well.

Megan chose the kitten game and was happy as a lark. She started to wander the store as Paul made his final selection.

Paul came to me empty-handed and sullen. I bent down for a serious father-to-son talk. Biting his lip he explained the whole situation to me. “The Pokemon games do look like fun, daddy. And I do have enough money for them. But I really want that new Bakugan game. It looks really cool and it has a Bokugon that I’ve always wanted.”

Uh-huh. So what do you want to do?

“Well, I really want to get that Bakugan game but I only have $33 and it costs $35.”

Yeah, son. All you have to do is ask me and I will let you borrow $5 from next weeks allowance.

“I know…”

He was breathing deeply. I could feel his heart pounding. He was biting his lower lip. He really didn’t want to ask me. As much as he wanted to borrow the money, he was really weighing his options. I could tell he wanted me to just cave and offer to loan him the money without his having to ask. But he looked into my eyes and could see that I was going to make him ask.

Finally, after about 30 long seconds of this dance he opened his mouth.

“Daddy, can I borrow $5 so I can get the Bakugan game right now?”

I stood up.

“Yes son, you bet.” I reached high up on the shelf, grabbed the game, and handed him the box. He confidently pulled it from my hand, found Megan, proudly showed his sister, showed her everything about it that was cool in his eyes, and dragged her to the counter so they could pay.

All he had to do was ask daddy. I wanted to give him the money. But I wanted to be asked. When he asked, both our hearts leapt.

What does this story have to do with our prayer life? As believers, we have a Heavenly Father who is waiting to give us both the things that we need and the things that we want. The Bible says, you just have to ask. That doesn’t mean God will give us everything we want. But it does mean that Daddy wants us to ask.

Philippians 4:6-7

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.