He's Aliiiiiiive!

Up from the shrouded mists of the pumpkin patch he rises, grinning his near-toothless grin, his beady eyes blazing with fire. Filling all who choose to gaze upon his glowing countenance with... JOY!

That's right, it's Beady Bigmouth, the perky pumpkin who comes to life every Halloween to spread good cheer to children of all ages. Nobody knows exactly when this gleeful gourd first visited us, though it must have been around 15 years ago.

My daughter, Megan, was the first in our family to encounter the spritely squash. She has never related the details of that initial meeting so many Halloweens ago. But she came to me with a sketch. "Can you make a pumpkin like this?"

When I was finished, we smiled at his beady little eyes and cavernous mouth. "What shall we call him?" I asked.

"Beady Bigmouth," she replied. (Megan is a creative nicknamer, but with given names, she tends to focus on the obvious, e.g., her pink teddy bear, "Pinky.")

The response from trick-or-treaters was so overwhelming that we knew we had to bring Beady back to life every year. And we have, each time celebrating his return with the frankensteinian proclamation, "He's aliiiiiiive!"

While his countenance will change slightly each year (just like Micky Mouse has morphed a bit over time) — for example, this year he only has three teeth vs. four in the photo above — his infectious grin is always the same and brings a smile to all who see him.

So from my family to yours: Happy Halloween!

Just Braggin'

There's no particular message for this post; I'm just braggin'!

Check out the latest phone photo of Loretta Joy (Lori) Hernandez, doing her Tito Puente impression on those timbales... I mean plastic congas. Note the similarities between her smile and the smiley faces. Now that is one cute, happy baby! Oh, I'm sure she has her cranky moments, but most of the photos I've seen are like this.

The photo at the left is from a few weeks ago. She could get up on hands and knees but hadn't figured out the hand and leg thing. So she'd just sort of worm her way along, like the seals at Ano Nuevo (now there's an unflattering image!).

I have heard (and phone videos have proven) that she is now mobile. She's definitely a physical kid, just like her mom, full of energy and life. Looks like it's time to put the baby latches on the drawers and cabinets!

I will witness Lori's amazing talents first hand when Trudi and I fly out to Houston for Thanksgiving. In the meantime, don't mind me... I'm just braggin'!

Build and Rebuild

Another reflection from my fathering days. . .

Build and Rebuild

I bought a plastic model
A 1968 Pontiac Firebird
Just like the one I had in high school
Candy-apple red, black vinyl top
Sweet!
Hours and hours of cutting, trimming,
Painting and gluing
It's coming together pretty well

Hmmm, I just can seem to get these doors to fit
Maybe if I trim them just a bit

Uh oh, now you've done it

My anger mounts as every effort to fix it
Only makes things worse
Stupid car! **Smash!**

Embarrassed at my own behavior
I gently pick up my trashed model

Hours to build
Seconds to destroy
How easily I sacrifice my past investment
And future enjoyment
to gratify a moment's anger

The anger's gone now
But the car is still broken
It can be fixed, but it will take a lot more time

God, please help me with my anger

While I'm fixing the model, I reflect...

I need to go and have a quiet talk with my daughter
And apologize for my angry words last night

Time to rebuild

The Power of Affirmation

Now that I've got a granddaughter (and a grandson on the way!), I've been doing a lot of thinking about my own experiences as a child and as a parent. If there's one thing I wish I'd received and given more, it's affirmation.

I'm not talking about flattery. Telling a child that s/he's the best player on the team when s/he's not doesn't help. It'll either ring hollow now or set them up for disappointment later. I'm talking about sincerely affirming a child when s/he's demonstrated a valued character trait, or done something well, or given their all.

Some parents do a pretty good job in this area. Me? I think I finished pretty well, but early on, I didn't do that great a job. I focused way to much on "teaching moments"... opportunities to give advice, instruct, correct, etc. But as my wife says, "Not every moment is a teaching moment." She knew better than I that spending too much time telling a child where s/he needs to improve ends up sending the message that they just don't measure up. I think I could have been more effective as a parent if I'd spent more energy, particularly in those early years, looking for opportunities to affirm, not just teach.

In my case, it was perfectionism that drove me to correct more than affirm. Here are a few more excuses I've heard for not affirming:

1. Giving too much praise, even when it's well deserved, will give a kid a swelled head. Nonsense. Take a look at all of the kids you knew growing up. The ones with inferiority complexes, the ones who would've given anything to have someone cheering for them far outnumbered the swelled heads.
   
   
2. Or how about this one: Telling them they did a great job will make them rest on their laurels and not strive to do better. Yeah, right. The same parent who withholds praise so that their child will push him/herself harder will go to a baseball game and cheer 'til they're hoarse to root their team on to victory. Would that they were as vocal a cheerleader for their own kids.

Thankfully, it's never too late for a parent to do a course correction. Seek opportunities to affirm, pursue them with the same passion you did those teaching moments, and you'll begin to rewrite your legacy. Trust me on this one.

Losing Your Life in Order to Find It

I played music this last weekend at Menlo Park Presbyterian's annual all-church retreat. That was a treat in itself. But another benefit is that we got to hear from a really excellent speaker, Dave Johnson, who challenged us in many ways.

One of his messages that impacted me the most was about losing your life in order to find it. So many of the truths that Jesus taught run counter to our culture and the way the world works. Like loving your enemies, whoever would be the greatest must be the servant, etc. But the counter-intuitive truth that's really hitting me where I live is Jesus' teaching that you've got to lose your life in order to find it.

That's true, but man, is it tough to do. I find myself grasping onto the very things I know I should let go of. Anger and bitterness, for example. Or hanging on to some problem area in my life that I want to be rid of, but somehow still hold close -- maybe because it's easier for me to just wish something would go away rather than going through the hard work of dealing with it.

Dave Johnson called it right when he said that when you let go of something, you feel like you're dying inside. But you don't. It leads to life. Having someone confront you about something can be painful and humiliating, but afterwards, it can bring healing. Letting go of feelings of bitterness towards someone is like that, too. You want justice. You want someone to pay. And there's an odd kind of satisfaction in nursing a grudge. Letting go of all of that and truly forgiving someone who's wronged you can feel like you're dying. But you don't. Ultimately, it's freeing, and you come alive.

Funny how this weekend's conference gave me the exact message I needed to hear to help move me forward. God works like that.

Approval Addicts Anonymous

Sorry for not posting for a while. Things have been pretty crazy at work. And when things get stressful, I tend to lapse back into old habits. And that's definitely been the case with me this past week.

In one of my earlier blogs I wrote about "Changes That Heal" by Dr. Henry Cloud. This book has really helped me gain insights into why I am the way I am and make some good progress with some issues that have plagued me much of my life. But it's not an overnight fix. With any deep-seated issue, it takes more than a good self-help book. It takes time, vigilance, prayer, insight from wise people, support from friends and family, etc.

One of my lifelong issues is approval addiction. This manifests itself in lots of ways: being overly cautious around authority figures, fear of failure, assuming the worst, procrastination, etc. I've been dealing with all of these this week.

So I've had to go back and do a refresher on "Changes That Heal." I also learned something from one of Jon Ortberg's sermons that has helped. He told about how his wife, Nancy, had taken him aside and shared some things that she felt he needed to work on. Though it was tough to hear, he knew he wanted to be rid of those issues, too. So an encounter that could have been a negative experience was in the end a positive one, an opportunity for growth.

Nothing gets better when it's not faced. Ignoring baggage won't get rid of it. It just wears you down having to schlep it around all the time. On the positive side, when we face something with the right attitude, the outcome can be profoundly beneficial and freeing.

As a result, I've been able to identify some of the baggage I need to get rid of. I'm honest to goodness looking forward to doing that.

Have a great week!

The Night That Grandpa Taught Me How To Play

The first stringed instrument I learned to play was the ukulele. The second was my grandfather's guitar, which he often played for us during visits. Playing that guitar was a moment I'll never forget, for many reasons...

It was back in 1967. My grandmother, who had been very ill with cancer, finally lost her battle. The family was up in Palo Alto for the funeral. After the service, we went back to my grandfather's house. My mother and I planned to stay overnight, while my dad and brother went back home.

We were all aware of the weight of sorrow that my grandfather was carrying, so we wanted to give him some space to process everything. In the early evening, I cautiously asked him if he wouldn't mind showing me a few chords on his guitar. Having learned to play the ukulele, I was anxious to move up to guitar, which has four strings in common with the uke.

He brought out his guitar, an old Martin that had been given to him by my uncle. He showed me a few chords and how to strum with a pick, a skill that was new to me, since ukulele is typically strummed in an up-and-down motion with the thumb and index finger. I then asked him if there were some instruction books he could recommend. He wrote down "Hy White Guitar Method" on a small scrap of paper. I still have that scrap of paper in my memorabilia box.

Sadly, this was the last that anyone would see of him. During the night, he suffered a stroke and passed away the next morning. It hit everyone like a lightning bolt. I spent a good part of the day lost in my own thoughts.

To say that this experience changed my life would be an understatement. It's somewhere in the back of my mind whenever I pick up a guitar, especially so whenever I play his guitar.

One of these days I'll finish this song. I have the chorus:

"It was just three simple chords
But it opened up the door
To a life of making music
That I'd never known before
I remember it like it was yesterday
The night that Grandpa taught me how to play"