Time for Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a time when we recognize the blessings and graces in our lives.

I’d like to thank God for His love and His graces in my life of which there are many. I’d like to thank my wife, without her love and support I’d have a very dark and lonely existence. I’d like to thank my family for their continued support and understanding. Without them I’d be lost for direction. I’d like to thank my sister for all of her work with this blog. She really makes it happen. I’d like to thank those friends that have stayed with me. They are truly God’s perfect representation of caring for the prisoners in the world. I’d like to thank my readers, both current and new. Without you this blog would have no purpose.

I’m sure there are a hundred more things and people to be thankful for and I am.

I hope that, for all of you, these days are filled with God’s graces and blessings, family and friends and remembrances of what really matters in life.  ~jdoe

Thank You For Healing Me

by Matt Redman

Yes, You stepped in with Your power to save
Let forgiveness reign
Worked a miracle within

Thank You for healing me
I was dying beneath my shame
But You brought me to life again, I will sing
Thank You for freeing me
I was dead to the truth of You
But my healing was in Your wounds, and now I sing
Thank You for healing me

Though outwardly I may waste away
On the inside I’ll be more alive every day
As I walk through times of pain and grief
There’s a deeper truth inside of me…
You have placed Your life inside of me
So I sing

Thank You for healing me
I was dying beneath my shame
But You brought me to life again, and I will sing
Thank You for freeing me
I was dead to the truth of You
But my healing was in Your wounds, and I will sing
Thank You for healing me

Time and Time Again?

Anniversaries

Days we look forward to; sometimes with joy and sometimes with dread.

My040 Time and Time Again

My wife and I look forward to the anniversary of our first date with excitement because we’ve been together since.  That’s nearly 37 years!  On the other hand, I feel a level of sorrow as the date of my older sister’s passing rolls around.  She wasn’t even in her mid-40s when cancer took her.  Then there are those anniversaries that perhaps bring both good and bad feelings, maybe birthdays as we age.  I know I’m not looking forward to turning 55 next year, yet at the same time I do enjoy the recognition the day brings for me.

Recently, two anniversaries came hand-in-hand, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about them.

The first was the two year anniversary of my incarceration date.  On the one hand, it was exciting in that it meant that, in essence, two-fifths of my sentence was over leaving me with the challenge of getting through the remaining three-fifths.  I felt good about that.  On the other hand, it brought back into sharp focus the years of productive life I was losing and a reminder of the crime I’d committed.  So… some excitement and some sorrow.  It made me wonder:  How will I feel at the half-way point or even the three year anniversary?  Will I look at my time remaining as all downhill or will I feel even stronger about the wasted part of my life?

The second anniversary that followed immediately on the heels of my incarceration date was the 20th anniversary of this institution’s entry into operation.  We inmates were put on lock down for an entire day while the staff celebrated the day.  And it made me wonder:  Should we celebrate the life of such an institution or mourn its very existence?  Don’t get me wrong, I understand that I, and the others here, have a debt to pay for our transgressions.  Yet I still cannot see the joy in a society for having such places.  In the U.S. alone there are about 700,000 inmates incarcerated somewhere with about 50,000 waiting in holding locations for their institution assignment.

Isn’t celebrating the anniversary of such institutions sort of like celebrating the fact they’re all overcrowded with lives losing productive years?  When I made this connection I became upset.  I looked around at all the people who are capable, and willing, to return to society as productive, law abiding, citizens and yet are stuck here in punishment (the truth is that there is no real rehabilitation for anyone within the prison system so it’s all punishment).

My personal conclusion is that no one should ever celebrate the life of a prison but should instead mourn the need for and existence of, such an institution.

I wanted to check my outlook and so asked those I know inside for their thoughts around the staffs celebration.  Unanimously all said it was ridiculous to hold such a celebration because it couldn’t happen without the inmate population.  Several said they felt insulted and minimized beyond the scope of being punished for their crime.  Yet not one said that punishment was unfair or unnecessary except that all agreed that sentences are too long across the board.  But that’s another issue altogether unless you stop to think that maybe more reasonable sentences would actually reduce the number of prisons – and thereby reduce the number of institutional anniversaries.

I also asked one staff member how they felt about it and was told that it was really a day to recognize the staff itself.  My thought: Hold a staff appreciation day and call it that, even if it’s an additional day of staff appreciation for the year (they do hold multiple staff appreciation days already).

All these thoughts of anniversaries brought to mind something I was told by the psychologist I was working with prior to my incarceration.  I was growing anxious about the anniversary of the start of the investigation into my case and wanted to work through those feelings with her.  It was then she said: “There’s no such thing as an anniversary.  There are only days we attach importance to, sometimes unnecessarily and unhealthily.”  When I challenged that statement she replied, “Then tell me how today is actually different from yesterday,” and I couldn’t.  For example: When you get married, that day is different from the day before because you became legally bound to another.  One year later, however, you do not become unbound the day before the ‘anniversary’ so that on the ‘anniversary’ your status changes again back to being legally bound to your partner.  It actually makes a lot of sense.

And that’s why I’ve written this post.

We all have a choice to make about ‘anniversaries.’  We can invest whatever amount of emotional energy into the day we desire.  It is a choice.  I’ve decided not to invest negative emotional energy into the sorrowful ‘anniversaries’ that lie within my lifetime.  It’s not worth it.  My daughter was married on the second ‘anniversary’ of the start of the investigation into my transgression.  Should I feel sorrow and regret over my actions or excitement and joy for her new life each year on that date?  Wouldn’t the former taint the latter?  And why punish myself each year when I can celebrate my daughter and son-in-law instead?

Do yourself a favor, let go of the negative, sorrowful, ‘anniversaries’ and throw yourself into the joyous ones instead.  Life will become easier and more exciting. ~jdoe

Do It Yourself

Funny, how so many of us become attached to objects because of the memories associated with them.  How many of us have concert or movie ticket stubs from a first date or first time attending such an event?  I know I do.

My father passed away earlier this year (see “Dad (Warning, He Cusses)”).  Between then and now my Mom has been going through his things inside the house and either giving them to family and friends or donating them.

A little over a week ago, my sister and her family arrived at my Mom’s for a visit and to aid my Mom in going through my Dad’s remaining affects.  This includes things in the garage – outside the house.  What’s there?

Tools.  A Lot Of Tools.

My040 Do It Yourself

My father was the consummate do-it-yourselfer.  Anything that came up around the house that needed repairs or renovation was completed by my Dad.  I can remember only three times when a ‘professional’ was called in to do a job.

When my Dad would work on a home project he would always include me.  When he needed a tool for a job he would say, “The money I save by doing the project pays for the tool.”  Consequently, his tool collection constantly grew; and so did my memories of time with Dad.

For me, what lies in the tool boxes in my parent’s garage is not really a collection of tools but is instead a collection of memories.  And for any tool named I can recall a project, or projects, in which we used that tool.

So it’s not easy hearing about the dismantling of this collection of tools; of memories.  Each time a tool is set aside for a family member, a few memories go with it.  It feels like small parts of me are going too.

My sister has asked me if there’s a special tool I’d really want in memory of my Dad.  How do I say yes to one and no to another?  Every tool is special to me.  I don’t need any tool in particular as I grew my collection of tools in the same way my father did; so I have no objective way to identify any tool in particular.  And it’s not like there was one project in particular where in a tool was used that I’d want.

Well, that’s not entirely true – my Dad and I built my stereo system’s speakers and they sound great!  But the tools used in that project are the same as those used in any wood working project and so no tool rises above the rest.

Perhaps that’s not entirely true either.  My Dad gave me a tape measure when I was in high school.  That tape measure was used not only by my father but by his father as well.  So with it came my father’s memories in addition to my own.  But is that enough?

The irrational part of me wants to claim all the tools.  I want to protect the collection of tools and memories.  But, the rational part of me knows it’s selfish and uncaring to make such a pronunciation.  I know other family members have their memories of Dad/Grandpa and his tools; I want them to have something to keep those memories alive as well.

I don’t envy my sister’s and Mom’s efforts in passing out all those tools among the family members.  I know they’re being as fair as they can be.  And I trust them.

I’ve told them I’d be happy with anything and that I’d appreciate about a third of the tools as I’m one of three kids (my younger sister, my older sister that passed away, and myself).  That leaves a third for my younger sister and the remaining third to go to the children of my older sister.  But the truth is, anything I might receive is really enough.

I wonder what my Dad would say or do were he with us.  I know he’d want them given in the way my Mom and sister are doing.  But I wonder if he’d see his collection of tools as a collection of memories as well.  He never presented himself as especially sentimental – except when dividing out the belongings of his parents and grandparents.  So what does that say about how he’d feel about his own belongings?  I’m not sure.  I only know that the rational, practical side of him would want his tools to get used by the family.

I miss you Dad and I miss working side by side with you.  We accomplished so much.  Perhaps those are all the memories I need. ~jdoe

Locked

My040 Keys

Keys

We all have them.  Keys to: our car; our house; our desk; suitcases; diaries; the shed in the backyard; and the list goes on.  They are simple tools that we use to facilitate our lives.  They come in many sizes and shapes and even colors.

But have you ever really thought about what they also represent?

Authority.

Power.

Control.

Those in authority have the power and exert control.

If not, then everyone would have access to everything. 

Imagine total strangers walking into your home or office or other place you hold important and private.  All those places where you keep things that others are not to touch or use or read or or or…

And keys are things we can become sensitive to and develop envy of those who have them.  In prison, exile, the guards all have keys and exert their authority and power over we inmates by controlling our movements and access to things like showers, laundry, socialization rooms, exercise and even food.  And of course freedom.

With all this authority, power, and control comes all responsibility.  We don’t really think about keys giving us responsibility because we’re lulled into a sense of security, but what if you left your cleaning chemicals available to small children and an ‘accident’ were to occur – who would be responsible?  You.  So in reality you accepted the responsibility of keeping the child safe when you accepted the key to that cabinet of chemicals.  And so it is with every key we’re given – we assume, and accept, all the responsibility that ownership, possession, of any key we hold brings.  But there’s even more to owning keys…

Trust.

How do we come by most keys?  Someone of higher authority provides them; that someone places their trust in us to be responsible and cautious and careful and caring and and and…

When we are given a key we are entrusted to use our authority to exert our power and control justly and fairly and responsibly; because if we don’t, there are consequences.

So, what of Jesus’s words in Peter’s Confession of Christ?  [Matthew 16: 13-19]  Jesus says, “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of Heaven; whatever you bind on Earth will be bound in Heaven, and whatever you loose on Earth will be loosed in Heaven.”  Matthew 16:19

My040 Locked

Jesus is giving us the keys to His Kingdom; the keys to salvation and eternal life.  Jesus is giving us authority, power, and control.  Jesus is trusting us to be responsible, just, and fair.  Yet He’s also telling us there are consequences associated with possession of these keys.  This then, requires us to be cautious, careful, caring, and and and…  It’s a Big Deal to accept these keys because it’s a Big Deal that Jesus would entrust them to us – we humans who are so imperfect.   He knows we are likely to stumble and drop, or even lose, the keys He’s given.  That’s why He warns us of the consequences – what we bind on Earth will be bound in Heaven, and what we loose on Earth will be loosed in Heaven.  Matthew 16:19b

Accepting the keys is accepting, and assuming, a great deal of responsibility.  It can be scary though.

Why?

There are unspoken stipulations in Jesus’s offering of the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven:  that you give your life over to Him by accepting, and confessing, Him as the Christ, your Lord and Savior; the ultimate authority.

Giving our life over to Jesus isn’t something to be done lightly because it’s a huge step in one’s spiritual journey.  And it’s worrisome to give control of your life to Him because our path isn’t shown to us in its entirety but is instead revealed to us step by step.  This then, reveals that there’s yet one more stipulation to our accepting the keys Jesus offers us.

Faith.

Faith does not always come easily because it is believing with conviction and without evidence or proof.  (Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary).  Therefore, accepting the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven requires an act of faith on our part.

Give your life over to Jesus and have faith that He will lead you into the Kingdom of Heaven – these are the unspoken conditions, in Matthew 16:13-19, that are placed on us in order to receive the keys He offers – the keys to eternal life.

Where am I on this journey?  I’ve given myself over to Jesus and working on the outwardly confessing of Him as my Lord and Savior.  I stumble every day, dropping the keys and fumbling around looking for them and picking them up.  It’s comforting to know though that He is there offering me a new set of keys should I lose the ones I’ve already been given; of course they come with His warnings and stipulations – and it’s a daily, hourly, moment by moment challenge because I am but a man.

Yet He trusts me.

Which means I have to have faith in Him – and in myself.

I hope you’ll pick up your set of keys and join me on this journey; together is better than alone.  ~jdoe

This Way

Sometimes I walk the track with a friend who does not believe there is a God.  This often leads to deep discussions concerning our individual faiths; he follows Buddhism while I follow and practice Christianity.

During a recent walk my friend made some remarks concerning God allowing suffering and discomfort in the world.  For him it’s proof that God does not exist; for what God would allow such suffering in the world?

I laughed.

I asked him if it were true that, “Buddhism teaches that suffering is inherent in life and that one can only be liberated from it through mental and moral self-purification?”

He said yes and asked me what my point was.  I said, “You follow a religion that acknowledges suffering exists in the word and through efforts on your part to purify yourself morally and mentally you are delivered from that same suffering.  Can’t you see the parallels to Christianity?  God asks us to lead sinless lives (mental and moral purification) so that in Heaven we will be liberated from suffering.”

He responded, “Yes, but we don’t follow a God who could, if He wanted to, prevent the suffering; A God who takes credit for all the good and washes His hands of all the bad.”

I laughed again.

I told my friend that I didn’t see God that way.

But then I had to stop and think.  I had to admit to myself that  my prayers often, almost always, asked for relief of some form of suffering while thanking and praising God for something good in my life.  So wasn’t I behaving as though my friend’s statement were my belief; that I followed a God who took credit for the good and ignored the bad?

I told my friend that I didn’t follow God to be relieved of all my suffering but that I did believe God had relieved me of suffering many times in my life.

My friend then asked me a much more serious question, “If you don’t follow God for comfort and convenience, then why do you?”

I told my friend that I needed time to figure out how to best answer his question.  I was disappointed with myself for not having an immediate answer for him.  Plus, I had to admit that my interactions with God were primarily times of asking for help and times of worship.

My friend’s question didn’t ask why I believe in God, he asked why I follow God.  One can believe but not follow, right?

Over the next few days I spent my mediation time on answering the question “Why?”  Lots of answers came to mind – shallow answers.  I started thinking that maybe the Bible held the answer.

When I thought about the Jews of the Old Testament it hit me – they followed God for relief of oppression and deliverance from Egypt.  In essence, they were following God for comfort and convenience.  God asked for more though.

God asked for love, devotion, and obedience.

And therein lay my answer; I follow God because I love Him, am devoted to Him and cherish my efforts in obedience to Him.

Yes, I still ask for relief of suffering but I’m now expressing my love for Him and re-examining my efforts at obedience.  It’s an act of purification and growth.

Why do you follow God?  ~jdoe

My040 This Way

Disclaimer: I have very little knowledge about Buddhism.  What I do know has been communicated by my friend.  If there are inaccuracies in my writing concerning Buddhism I apologize.  jdoe

Rain

My040 Rain
Photo by reza shayestehpour on Unsplash

The song that follows touches me because it says, in words I wish I had written, that even in our darkest hours we can glorify God. That no matter what our situation is, we can praise Him. That He cares for us and opens the doors for us.

Recently, I have been struggling with issues stemming from the choir I am part of. I’ve wanted to leave the choir due to the way the choir director treats the members of the choir. Recall I spoke about it in my previous post Raise Your Voice.  Yet when I hear this song, and I play it often for myself, I hear the reason for sticking it out: to offer up the tribulation of being a member of the choir in praise of God and that I’m singing for Him, not for me. This song clears my head and heart when I hear it. I hope that you too will find it helpful when you’re faced with fears and challenges that fall like rain.  ~jdoe

“Bring The Rain”
By Mercy Me

I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise You with all that I’ve gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You
Maybe since my life was changed
Long before these rainy days
It’s never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer through these times
So I pray

Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there’ll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that’s what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain

I am Yours regardless of
The dark clouds that may loom above
Because You are much greater than my pain
You who made a way for me
By suffering Your destiny
So tell me what’s a little rain
So I pray

Holy, holy, holy
Is the Lord God Almighty

The Good Inside

Over the past few weeks I asked about twenty fellow inmates the following question: 

What’s the best thing about being inside and/or this location specifically? 

I asked because I wanted to write a posting saying something like, “It’s Not All Bad Inside.”  I thought that by asking others I’d hear perspective and views differing from my own.  What surprised me was that all the responses fell into one of three categories, each garnering about one third of the total.

The first category is:

“There’s nothing good about being inside or at this location.” 

Even when I pressed them to be more thoughtful they couldn’t come up with any positives about being here, inside.  Perhaps this response isn’t surprising on its own however it came from some of the people I’d thought were most pragmatic about their incarceration.  Don’t misunderstand, I’d rather not be here either, yet I am and I try to make the most of it.  When I fall into this line of thinking it slows time down and makes this experience more burdensome.

The next category is:

“It’s relatively violence free here.” 

I’m at a low security institution and I’d have to agree with this assessment.  It’s not that I haven’t witnessed, or heard of, fights but you generally don’t have to be constantly looking over your shoulder to know who’s behind you.  You do have to be aware of your surroundings but as long as you keep your nose clean you’re relatively safe – it is still a prison and you’re still dealing with people who may have been violent in their past.  One person even described this location as, “A highly dysfunctional community college campus.”  I don’t think I can agree in total but it is highly dysfunctional here. 

These first two categories made me think of all the people in the world, maybe billions, who would gladly trade places with we inmates – the homeless, the hungry, those in war torn countries, and those without sanitation or safe drinking water.  Would they say there’s nothing good here inside?  And wouldn’t they appreciate the lack of violence?

The final category is:

“Time is the best thing wherever you’re imprisoned.” 

Time to reflect and be introspective.  Time to look at your own history and envision a new future.  Time in these ways is the school of thought I think is indeed the best thing about living in exile.

My040 The Good Inside
Photo by Murray Campbell on Unsplash

When I was on the outside I took time to think but I concentrated on worldly things like material belongings, money, success, and feeding my addiction.  It’s not that I didn’t ever think about the truly important things in life like family, faith, and health but it was out of balance.  I thought too much about the former and too little about the latter.

It took being stripped of all the good things in my life to show me where I should have been focusing my thoughts and introspective time.  Now I can say without hesitation that there’s nothing more important than my faith, family, and health.  Think on it a while and I’m sure you’ll find this to be true for you as well.  I know it seems obvious that these are the important things in life but if we’re honest with ourselves we’d admit that we let other less important items cloud our thinking and take our eyes off the truly critical facets of life.

Keep your eyes on the true prizes of life.  ~jdoe

Roots of Faith?

I know in my mind and have faith in my heart that Jesus was born, died, and rose in triumph over sin that I may have eternal salvation.  I also know in my mind and have faith in my heart that God is active in my life every moment of every day.

Yet, my active involvement in my faith has changed.  I can attach this change to my starting medication to address the hallucinations I have and the depression I battle.

This brings into mind a question: 

What, if any, link exists between psychometric drugs and faith?

My040 Roots of Faith.jpg
Photo by Joshua Earle on Unsplash

My first reaction was there is no connection between psychometric drugs and faith, after all my belief in Christ as Lord and Savior remains solidly planted in my heart and mind.  But that’s not what changed.  So I needed to look more closely at what I felt had changed, that is, my active involvement in my faith; those things that bring faith into practice as praise and worship.

I feel I still live as a Christian – loving God with all my heart, soul and mind and loving my neighbor as myself.  (Mark 12:30-31)

I’m still attending church and singing in the choir.  But… other things I used to do like praying the rosary, reading the bible, and privately praying three times daily have turned into occasional activities.  Also, participation in the choir has turned into work and no longer fulfills me. (I must add here that there are also other issues with choir that feed my ambivalence.)

To answer the question of linkage between my medication and active participation in my faith I had to look at the roots of that which drives participation beyond attending church.

I feel I can eliminate the antidepressant as the cause of change.  I was once on antidepressants while on the street (outside this prison) and experienced a positive impact on practicing my faith by becoming more involved, not less.

Yet, what of the anti-hallucinogen?

I’ve learned, through work with psychologists, that hallucinations can spring from the part of the brain associated with creativity.  Once I learned that, it became easier to deal with those hallucinations the medication had not driven away.  But the implication is clear:  If the anti-hallucinogen quiets the creative center of the brain then how I see and feel and participate in my faith is indeed connected to the creative center in my brain.

This brings a new question:

Do I see negative impacts on other creative activates undertaken?

Absolutely YES!

My writing for this blog has become challenging and for my short stories has ceased altogether.  Also, the journaling I did on a regular basis has stopped.  Next, my passion around music has waned to the point that I don’t care to sing anymore.  Finally, and most importantly, I’ve found that I can no longer envision a future for myself once released from prison; from exile.

In summary then, all the creative activities that were alive in me have withered or died just as my active participation in my faith has also all but ended.

So a third question now arises: 

What role does the creative center of the brain play in one’s faith?

I once took the MMPI (Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory) survey and scored 100% for both schizophrenia and delusional disorder.  I recall a fair number of questions around belief in an omnipotent entity (God).

Apparently, I’m not the first person to see a direct link between one’s faith and the workings of the mind – the creative mind.  The implication of that survey is that your faith is something manufactured by your mind as opposed to a belief, a knowing really, in an all-encompassing deity.  And aren’t hallucinations and delusional beliefs manufactured by the mind?

This suggests then that the part of the brain that creates hallucinations and delusional beliefs also creates faith, or at least some portion thereof.

It’s a scary thought really – that my faith is no more real than a short story written for pleasure.

Where does this leave me? 

With more questions than answers.

What to do?  I’ve decided to adopt an attitude of “just do it’ and renew, even if by habit, my participation in praying the rosary, thrice daily prayer times, and reading the bible daily.  My hope is that by doing these things as tasks I will rekindle the part of me that carried these actions as an integral part of my faith practice.

I’m curious.  I’d like to know if any of you that are on psychometric medication have seen a change in how your creative self manifests.  Am I alone in seeing a direct link between the creative center of the mind and faith?

I look forward to hearing from you.  ~jdoe

Sketches, Reflections of Father’s Day

“Who needs fathers?  We all do.  We especially need our Father in heaven, who forgives our parenting inadequacies for Jesus’ sake and who enables us each day with a fresh start.  Just as the loving father in Luke’s gospel welcomed home his lost son, our Father will one day welcome us into heaven together with all others who love and trust in Jesus.” 

~ Dr. Rodney Rathmann

My040 Sketches Reflections of Father's Day

This is jdoe’s lil-sis.

I have been reflecting and sketching out memories, thoughts.   Sparked by father’s day and receiving the most recent blog written by my brother (to be posted next time).  The blog post talks about the impact jdoe’s illness and medication has had on him recently – and in it he talks about having lost his ability to see his future.

The quote that ended jdoe’s last post, and opens mine asks “Who needs fathers?” … We all need fathers.  Our earthly father that God blessed us with, and our Heavenly Father God.

We lost our father earlier this year, so the months that have followed have found us with twisted heart when we read a card or letter from our Mom, now only signed ‘love Mom.’  Or the fact that we didn’t have to shop and send a father’s day card.  Our father for many years prior to his passing was locked in a prison of his own;  one that left him unable to walk, remember, and eventually talk.  For several years Dad was ever there, but darkening – his sun was setting.  This relationship we had with our father is not unlike the relationship my brother now has with his children.  My brother is locked in exile, physically removed from day to day family life and restricted in communication.  Yet, there is a fundamental difference – he is still fully available, and has life to look forward to – a new dawn over the horizon.

I thought I’d write this week’s post, remind my brother jdoe of the vibrant future that lies in-front of him with a strong family that he helped to build.  Remind him of the person he is.

Do you remember these words, bro?  Below is from an excerpt from an email I sent my brother a couple years back – I’d like to focus on the “Father” in him…

I thought about you a lot today.  And I was thinking, I cannot even start to imagine what it feels like to walk in your shoes.  All the feelings and experiences that lay behind you.  Looking out over what looks like very rocky ground infront of you. 

Then I started thinking about the man standing in those shoes, You, jdoe. 

This is the man I see standing in your shoes…

A devoted son, brother, friend, and father.  You have a deep well of love for family, friends, even strangers. 

A man that has raised four great children that have turned into wonderful, loving, hard working, respectful, fun, adults. You instilled family, just look how your kids like to be around each other. 

Your love for jane is deep and strong, obvious to anyone who sees the two of you together.  What an amazing example the two of you have set for your children and others.

Someone whom I, and others, look to for sound advice. 

Someone whom I, and others, can trust. 

You know what to say, and how to say it. 

Intelligent, hardworking, and dedicated to anything you put your head and heart into.  Through your daily demonstration, your children now also live these characteristics out.

Someone who has learned from his mistakes, and grown better from them.  Who now shares his experiences in hopes to help others.

You have a contagious smile and laugh, spreading joy and light.  Fun and playful, wise and thoughtful.

You are a talented artist, with cars, music, stories, painting rooms (lol), re-upholstering, well just about everything you touch.  You are willing to share your knowledge with those willing to learn.

You are thoughtful, tender and compassionate, strong and firm. 

A gentleman, kind and respectful.

Spiritual, believer.

Love Thou jdoe ~lilsis

Happy Father’s Day

“Who needs fathers?  We all do.  We especially need our Father in heaven, who forgives our parenting inadequacies for Jesus’ sake and who enables us each day with a fresh start.  Just as the loving father in Luke’s gospel welcomed home his lost son, our Father will one day welcome us into heaven together with all others who love and trust in Jesus.” 

~ Dr. Rodney Rathmann

My040 Fathers Day

Happy Father’s Day to all the Dads

Happy Father’s Day to “My Old Man” 

Lyrics and Song by The Zac Brown Band

He was a giant
When I was just a kid
I was always trying
To do everything he did
I can still remember every lesson he taught me
Growing up learning how to be like my old man

He was a lion
We were our father’s pride
But I was defiant
When he made me walk the line
He knew how to lift me up
And when to let me fall
Looking back, he always had a plan
My old man

My old man
Feel the callous on his hands
And dusty overalls
My old man
Now I finally understand
I have a lot to learn
From my old man

Now I’m a giant
Got a son of my own
He’s always trying
To go everywhere I go
Do the best I can to raise him up the right way
Hoping that he someday wants to be
Like his old man

My old man
I know one day we’ll meet again
As he’s looking down
My old man
I hope he’s proud of who I am
I’m trying to fill the boots of my old man

My old man