Something that I’ve been reflecting on, post- Easter, is the idea of humility.
It’s not my go-to feeling or attribute, and many dear friends and family members may even laugh when they think about me wanting to be more humble. A younger me often struggled with wanting recognition and fame—but the older I get, the more I realize I’d like to forget that and just be more like Jesus.
He traded heaven for earth when He took on human form, serving and sacrificing for our salvation. He washed the feet of his disciples, forgave those who crucified him, and exemplified selflessness in every aspect of his life. Jesus’ humble and servant-hearted attitude during all that happened during His last week of life was a powerful reminder to me of the importance of humility on life’s journey.
Embracing humility means recognizing our own limitations and our need for God’s grace. It requires being compassionate and understanding towards others, learning from our mistakes and growing through them, cultivating gratitude and contentment in all circumstances, and serving others without a need for reciprocation.
Oof.
That’s not always easy, especially in marriage or as a dad. But I’m learning how much humility deepens my relationship with God, as I acknowledge my dependence on Him and His wisdom—and that feels pretty awesome.
As we look back on Easter, may we be inspired by Jesus’ humble nature and strive to live with a humble heart, open to learning, serving, and growing.
Fold the laundry, feed the cats, do the gross thing nobody else wants to do, listen when you feel like talking, let others get the praise. You get the idea. Embracing humility can lead each of us to a more fulfilling, meaningful, and Christ-like life. And that sounds like a great thing!
When I became a father for the first time, nearly 25 years ago, I wasn’t ready. I mean, my brain said I was ready and I know I was old enough, because I was nearly 30 years old. But despite having a great example of fatherhood in my own dad, I look back now and realize that I was completely, woefully, unprepared for what it meant to be a dad to a newborn baby girl.
It wasn’t the tasks or the chores. Robyn and I got that figured out pretty quickly, and one of the main rules still stands to this day: she handles blood and I handle barf. We split the rest as evenly as possible (there are a few things I could not do for Audrey, obviously). So it wasn’t really the “taking care of the newborn, fragile human” that was tough.
What was tough was the management of the emotions, the guarding the heart, the directing attention and focus. When we added three more to the fold, it became three times more challenging, because all four of them had their own ranges of emotions, their own ways of responding to tough times. None of them were the same, and there was no manual handed over that explained, “So, this is exactly what your newest addition needs when it comes to the non-physical care stuff.”
But at least when they are young, they listen. Because they kind of have to. It’s understood, when you’re little, that you have to listen to your parents when they speak to you. You may not like what they say, but you’ve gotta stand there and listen, darn it! And as a dad, I have to admit, the validation that comes from a child listening, responding, and thanking you for the sage wisdom you’ve just dispensed is awesome. I may not be the wisest man alive, but my kids think I am.
At least they used to. Now that three of the four are adults, I’m not so sure. Being a dad to older kids is weird. It’s not like it used to be, where they have to listen, you know they kind of have to respect you, and while they may not like everything you say to them, they really give you positive affirmations that the things you’re trying hard to do to help them be good humans is working.
My kids have turned out to be good humans. All four of them are genuinely nice, kind people. The are leaving a positive impact on the world, and I am proud of them.
But now, when I share my thoughts on why things are the way they are, how they can grow and be better, or even some spiritual advice on why God is working in a certain way in their lives–I don’t think they listen anymore. Oh, they “listen,” but I don’t think they entirely want to hear. And then I realize that when I was in my twenties I did the same thing to my awesome dad and then I just want to tell my own dad how sorry I am for the kind of jerky way I acted when I was in my twenties.
It’s weird because I can stand in front of an audience of strangers who want to hear my thoughts and ideas and they don’t dismiss me because of my age, or think to themselves, “Oh, he’s saying that again!” But in an audience of four kids, I can sense that sometimes they wish I would stop trying to share my wisdom and advice and just kind of let them figure it out.
Which is weird for me, because until recently, my entire job was to be there to help them figure it out. Figure out the Lego set or the recipe, figure out the tough part of the videogame or to find the right cord that they misplaced six months ago and suddenly can’t live without. You go from being very necessary, like a hand or a foot, to being more like a sock or glove–nice to have when you need it, but not super important on an every day basis.
So, to any dads out there struggling with feeling like parenting your kids has gotten weird, I get you. I feel like it’s getting better every day because they are getting older and starting to need my thoughts and advice again (on entirely new things like relationships and what to put on a resume or filing taxes). Sometimes they still look at me as if they’ve stopped listening hours ago, but they are at least paying a little more attention.
And maybe in another twenty years or so, when I’m nearing my dad’s age today, they will look back at all the stuff I said and did, from cleaning up the barf to showing how to mow a lawn or put air in the tires, and realize that I was pretty smart for an old man.
But, I’ll still be a dad to older kids–so who knows, maybe it will still just be weird.
I’ve been reading through the book of Galatians recently and while the letter from Paul is chock-full of fantastic theology (it was the rediscovery of this book that kickstarted Martin Luther’s 95 Theses and the Reformation), it was a simple reminder at the end that I needed to hear today:
“So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone.” (Galatians 6:10).
Doing good to everyone can mean a lot of things, and Paul was definitely thinking of the spiritual life as well as the everyday world we live in. As a Christian, I know that doing good should include praying for people, encouraging them in their faith, living a godly life–there are lots of things I should do to make sure I’m “doing good.”
But beyond the spiritual, the everyday life needs me to do good, too. My wife needs that. My kids need that. My coworkers need that. Doing good every day can be summed up in one word: kindness. Kindness is doing a selfless act without expectation of anything in return. It could be something big, like volunteering your time at a local charity, or something small, like holding the door open for someone or letting them go ahead of you in line. A simple act of kindness can make a big difference in someone’s day. It can brighten their mood, make them feel appreciated, and even inspire them to be kind to others. This leads to joy for you, joy for them—leaving ripples of kindness and joy around the world! (I call this #restingmerry, but you can call it whatever you’d like.)
Paul even makes sure we understand when we are supposed to do it: “As we have opportunity.” That is pretty much all the time. Doing good to others by showing kindness doesn’t need to be scheduled. It doesn’t need to fit into the calendar. Doing good when we can means we will do good as often as time allows, and time gives us plenty of opportunity. Here are a few ways to do good and show kindness:
• Smile at someone and say hello. • Compliment someone on something they’ve accomplished. • Write a thank-you note to someone just to tell them they are awesome. • Offer to help out a friend or neighbor. • Share an encouraging word or thought. • Do the chore everyone else hates doing.
Remember : “So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone.” (Galatians 6:10). In other words, be kind to everyone! Small acts of kindness can make a big difference in the world. And God knows the world needs everyone to do good to each other. It’s why He puts this reminder in the Bible, so we don’t forget.
This Valentine’s Day will be the 26th one that Robyn and I have spent together, which means nearly half of the Valentine’s Days I’ve celebrated over my lifetime have been with her. Since that first one in 1998 to this one, we have done a lot of living and loving. (I would say laughing, too, but that’s took close to the old “Live, Laugh, Love” thing we saw everywhere in the late 1990’s.) And with all that living and loving (and laughing, too), we’ve discovered a few words that seem to bubble up the most when we think of love.
Some of them are obvious, and if you’ve been with someone for any length of time, you’ve probably used them: honey, lover, sweetheart. I may throw in a darling via text once in awhile, but we use those words to refer to each other than we ever do our actual names. When one of us is calling for the other from another part of the house, we don’t call out “ROBYN!” or “DUANE!” unless we are mad. First names like that are usually reserved for the less loving moments. If she needs me to come to the kitchen, I will usually hear “Honey, can you come here?” If I need her to come to the bedroom, she will usually hear, “Dearest darling of my desire, come hither to me!”
Needless to say, that doesn’t really work.
Some of the love words we’ve learned over the last 26 years are not quite as obvious. They aren’t terms of endearment, used in hushed tones in the most romantic settings. They are words that show we’ve learned that falling in love is easy, but staying in love–well, that takes work.
Forgiveness. Grace. Mercy. These are important love words, because sometimes the sweetheart is a jerk. Sometimes the lover isn’t very lovable. Sometimes the honey is a bitter pill to swallow. In the moments when life is tough and arguments arise, the loving words we need most are not words of affection or desire. They are words that offer something bigger and greater than anything we thought of when we first looked at each other after work one day at the Disney Store and thought, “Hey, she’s beautiful!” and “Hey, he’s not as dorky as I thought he was!”
Love words this time of year are everywhere. We see them on cards, chocolates, chalk-like candy hearts, balloons, billboards, pop-up ads. Everywhere you look, you’ll see words of love, reflecting all the wonderful, everyday, somewhat fleeting aspects of love. You won’t see a balloon that says, “You’ve given me more grace than I could ever deserve!” You won’t find a box of chocolates inscribed with “Thank you for your ineffable forgiveness, because I know how very badly I have hurt you over the years!”
In a world that claims to want to “be real,” that kind of reality sucks for a holiday sentiment. But it sure makes a difference when you really, truly, love someone.
So, this Valentine’s Day, I will call my dearest darling of a wife all the mushy lovey names I can think of. But I will also make sure she knows that the love words that will get us through another 26 years aren’t super romantic. They don’t look good on a Hallmark card. But heartfelt apologies, honesty and truth, grace and mercy, forgiveness unmerited–these are the love words that have helped us get this far.
And if you put them into everyday practice, they become more than words. They become a way of life. They become your reality. And then you finally understand why people say love is work. Because it takes work to offer an apology, to give forgiveness–to understand grace.
I deleted Facebook and Instagram from my phone on the Day After Thanksgiving last year. I did it in response to a couple things. The official reason was so I could “rest merry” during the holidays out of a desire to spend more time focused on my family as my oldest daughter is getting married this year and it would be her last Christmas at home.
The unofficial reason? I had an unhealthy relationship with social media. It may not seem like it, as I my posts were always full of encouragement, reflections on my life (which is truly blessed beyond words), and a celebration of all the things I love.
But in reality, I was feeling creatively empty.
I was obsessing over creating new things for people to read on Facebook and what I could share to my stories on Instagram, trying to build a personal brand and following on LinkedIn–while I felt like I honestly had very little to say that was coming from me. The spark of creativity was nothing but a flicker, the fire of passionate creation a heap of smoldering embers, quenched by the need to “build my audience” on social media–which was a pretty empty thing, in fact.
Most of the people who I am friends with on Facebook? I have not seen the majority of them in 7 years. Of the nearly 2000 “friends” who I was trying to connect with, only a handful were people I still saw regularly and who actually knew me beyond my days as a pastor at two different churches in Seattle. The nearly 2000 connections on LinkedIn? I have met maybe 100 of them personally, and only a few of them have I worked with in the last two years. And if I didn’t hashtag enough Disney words on my Instagram, I couldn’t generate very much interest in my posts.
You get it. In my honest desire to share my creativity with the world, I was focusing on people who didn’t really know me anymore, if at all. And I was more concerned about connecting with these people than I was on listening to my heart and hearing what it had to say, what God was trying to say through me–and what He was trying to say to me. I was so busy trying to inspire others that I stopped being inspired. I stopped listening and hearing what He had to say to me and through me.
The last few months have been filled with introspection, journaling, and a lot of time in scripture. Really getting into my book Resting Merry for myself, and not so I could share it with people on Facebook was a big game changer for my enjoyment and appreciation of the holiday season. Digging into the book of Romans in the New Year has reminded me of the amazingness of God’s grace, my justification by faith that I did nothing to deserve, and my journal has been setting me up to blog regularly on the things I am learning. All of this has re-fired my imagination, re-igniting the spark of creation that went dormant, leaving me refreshed and inspired in a way I’ve not been in a very long time.
The spark is lit. What happens next?
Well, I hope you enjoy reading the blog. I would love if you subscribed to it. I am going to be posting here regularly, some long form writing and shorter content. The podcast is coming back to life again, because I finally feel like I have something to say. I’d be honored if you’d listen and share it. My RestingMerry newsletter is reawakening with purpose. You can subscribe to it, too, and get weekly updates on what I’m working on, where I’m speaking next, and a bit of the kind of content I used to share on Facebook. If you love my books, you you can follow me as an author here. My current best-seller is my guide to baptism for kids (which is why I’m working on a sequel).
God is doing something cool in my life, and having time to be quiet, to think about it more, to introspect before I try to put something out there has awakened some pretty great thoughts that I am excited to work on and share in the coming year. Honestly, there is some really great stuff in the works, and none of it would have been possible if I hadn’t walked away from social media. Will I go back? I’m not sure, because in the few months I’ve been without it, I’ve been able to focus on what matters most, rediscover my voice, and find inspiration I’ve needed.
What about you?
Is there something you need to give up to help you refocus? Have you ever given up something to reawaken your creativity or help you find your voice? Any great scripture you’ve turned to as you refocused? Please share in the comments!
We are less than a month away from the official holiday of love. Over the next few weeks, stores will be full of heart balloons, red roses, aisles filled with cards and chocolates. Everywhere you look, you’ll see reminders to shower the world with love.
The trouble with all those candy conversation hearts and Hallmark sentiments is that love is not just a once-a-year thing. It’s not something easily captured by a corporate poet, a balloon bouquet, or even all the fresh flowers you can afford. The day after Valentine’s Day, it’s all on sale anyway and you may look at those sad discount chocolates and hearts and wonder what all the fuss was about.
There’s a song that was popular in the late 1990’s that asked the same question: “What is love?” (If you see Chris Kattan and Will Ferrell bopping their heads on Saturday Night Live, then you know exactly what I’m talking about.) The second part of the song went, “Baby, don’t hurt me.” Which may seem odd in a song asking what love is, but it’s a valid, honest question.
Because love is hard.
It’s hard to truly, really love someone. There’s a reason people fall out of love, why relationships fail, why families who were once close can fall away from each other after many years of stress and worry. Love takes work. To hold close to someone, regardless of how they treat you, regardless of how much they may annoy you at times–it’s not easy. It’s a tough, difficult choice that you have to make every day.
If you’re someone who claims to be a Christian, then love is even more difficult and more of a decision you have to make every single second of the day–which is why so many Christians struggle with it. We all know we are supposed to follow the verse from 1 John which says, “Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God.” God is love so we are supposed to love because we love God. Sounds easy, no?
It’s not. And part of that is because Jesus explained that the only way the world would know we are His followers is by how we showed love. Think about that. In John 13:35, Jesus says “Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples.” And the “one another” He means is not just the “other people who also love Jesus.” He means everyone.
Which means I have to love the guy who cut me off on the freeway. I have to love the lady yelling at the barista who messed up her order. I have to love the guy who is all for mask mandates. I have to love the woman who is against vaccines. I have to love the man who voted the opposite of me. I have to love the person who stands for things I don’t agree with.
I have to love the angry people, the happy people, the bitter people, the sad people, the broken people, the wounded people. If I am a Christian, truly wanting to live the life God created me to live, I don’t have a choice.
Love is the very heart of everything we can do or say or live as Christians, and if we do anything that is the opposite of that, if we do anything that does not reflect what love truly is, then at the end of the day, we did it for nothing. Or, more accurately, we did it for ourselves, and not for Jesus.
Here’s how we are expected to show love to the world:
By being patient By being kind. By being grateful. By being humble. By putting others first. By putting yourself last. By forgiving. By forgetting. By being honest. By protecting. By trusting. By believing the best is always possible. By hanging in there, even when things are hard. By never ever quitting, giving up, and throwing in the towel.
You can also put it the way the Apostle Paul did 1 Corinthians: Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.
“What is love?” Well, to put it plainly, love isn’t easy. And you may get hurt a bit. But it’s always worth it, and not just when it comes wrapped in red tissue paper.
I struggle with melancholy feelings every holiday season.
I know this comes as no surprise to anyone who has been a friend for any length of time, nor is it a surprise to my readers. I think I even coined a phrase when I was working on the second edition of Resting Merry for the feelings I get: melancholiday. (The feeling of being a little sad and blue while surrounded by the things that make you feel the happiest.)
This year is a bit more melancholiday than ever, because this is our “First Last Christmas.”
It’s been “just the six of us” for a very long time. 15 years, in fact. And in those 15 years of it being just the six of us, I’ve gotten very accustomed to our traditions and the things we do to make memories together during my favorite time of year. We have traditions we’ve been doing since Audrey was born 24 years ago, and some newer traditions we started in the last decade or so. But it’s so customary and normal for all six of us to have these times together that we are all in a bit of shock here, at Christmas 2023.
That’s because next year it will all be different. It will never be “just the six of us” during the holidays (or anywhere, for that matter). Audrey is getting married.
Don’t get me wrong. I love her fiancée and think she is 100% making the wise choice here. All six of us support the marriage and are excited to welcome Sean into our family. But with that welcoming comes some farewells, and this Christmas Robyn and I realize this the beginning of all of the “last Christmas” moments we will have with our kids. It’s our “First Last Christmas.” We’ve never had a last Christmas before–at least, not one that we knew was the last Christmas. We didn’t know our last Christmas in Washington was going to be our last Christmas at the home we built in 2004. We didn’t know the Christmas we had with Robyn’s mom was going to be our last one with her.
This one, though? We know it’s the last one. Which means every moment matters just a bit more. Every word carries more weight, every discussion of which movie to watch or what game to play becomes a bit more important.
Because time matters. I’ve said this for years, but now, when we are all about to begin the farewells that come with major life changes, I can truly feel it. I know that time is the greatest gift I can give anyone. Time, once it’s gone, never comes back. Moments and memories will outlast any present, any stocking stuffer. And in this truly memorable, wonderful season, I want to make sure I don’t dwell so much in my melancholiday that I miss out on time with the ones I love most.
On her wonderful Christmas album, Mindy Gledhill sings a song called “Little Soldier.” I’ve loved the song since I first heard it nearly a decade ago, but the other day it came on and yes, I started crying. The song is from the viewpoint of a young woman, venturing into the next big adventure–much like Audrey is about to jump into her next step of life.
Little soldier under the tree Play a Christmas song for me All the house is slumbering deep But I have secrets I must keep Little soldier, tap, tap your beat I will stand on Daddy’s feet We will dance as if I were ten Even if it’s just pretend
But it’s the chorus that gets me.
Father Time comes creeping in We fight back but he will win If I asked one Christmas wish, then it would be Soldier, could you win back time for me?
On this “First Last Christmas,” I would love to win back more time. Time I wasted by being focused on the wrong thing, by giving so much of my time to audiences and congregations while my kids were little. I don’t think they resent the time we spent or think I wasn’t there enough, but I want more. I want some of that time back so I could cherish it even more. To hang on to the sounds of little voices and little giggles and all the things that they were, despite how much I love who they are.
I can’t win it back, but I can spend it wisely today. Let’s try to be less melancholiday and more in the moment. The ones we love best will appreciate it–and a year or two from now, when you look back, you will be grateful you did.
Whatever your role, you may have the relationship that helps someone else find their next right thing. Someone close to you may be looking, may be wondering who can help them discover a better opportunity or a new adventure. Even if nothing comes of it, it’s always worth making the connection and helping them have the conversation.
You didn’t get to where you are on your own. Someone spoke into you, someone advocated for you. There were people along your journey who helped pave the way, who cheered you to the next step, who helped you realize you were worth more than you thought you were.
Who can you help with that today? If you know someone who is looking for their next thing, why not ask them how you might be able to help? You never know what may happen just by asking that one small question.
It may lead to something really really big for them: a new job, a new opportunity, a new belief in themselves, a new life. And for you? You may rediscover joy, happiness, and an honest sense of gratitude for all you have accomplished–and all that may lie ahead of you as well.
So, if we’re connected and I can help you, let me know. I’m happy to make any connections I can so the next big adventure and right thing can happen for you!
“I’ve got a dream! She’s got a dream! I’ve got a dream! She’s got a dream! I just want to see the floating lanterns gleam And with every passing hour I’m so glad I left my tower Like all you lovely folks I’ve got a dream!” — Rapunzel, Tangled
Like Rapunzel and the rest of the guests in the Ugly Duckling in Disney’s Tangled, you probably have a dream. It may be big, it may simple. Maybe it’s something you’ve been thinking about for a while–maybe it’s a relatively new idea you recently thought of. But most of us, if we are honest can sing similar lyrics (or if singing’s not your thing, you could just read them).
In the movie, shortly after this big song is sung, the villain shows up and promptly does everything she can to stop these dreams from becoming reality. It’s a big part of a lot of movies and stories we experience, from Tony Stark to Pinocchio, from Harry Potter to Frodo, some of the most powerful stories we know are about people hoping to achieve something, only to be stopped by someone who does not want to see those dreams come true.
This happens in real life, too, which is why these stories are relatable. Sometimes you’ll have those moments in life when everything you are hoping for, everything you’re working and striving for and dreaming about is sidelined. You may never know why some things happen to you. You may not understand why that person stopped talking to you. You may not get why your boss decided you were wrong for the job. You may not comprehend why you were rejected by people you loved.
Neither did Joseph. His dreams got sidelined–literally. His dreams showed him as a leader, a man whose family would eventually look to him for favor. He went from favorite son to imprisoned slave in a heartbeat. From the bottom of a well, he looked up at the faces of people he’d loved and wondered, “What just happened?” As he was tied to the other slaves in the caravan heading toward Egypt, he looked back at his brothers and wondered, “What went wrong?”
He didn’t know where he was going. At that moment, he probably thought it couldn’t get worse. (Which was probably a good thing, because he didn’t know that a false accusation and a hefty prison sentence were still in his future.)
But in the end, Joseph’s long-sidelined dream became reality. In spite of all he had lost, despite how badly he’d been hurt and wronged by people he loved and trusted, it did not stay that way forever. In a pretty amazing turn of events, the prisoner is elevated to the palace, and all that he thought would happen and had hoped would happen finally did. When Joseph went from prison to palace, it’s clear that he finally realized something that I hope we can realize today, too. What others do to us–whether it’s out of spite or evil or misunderstanding or hurt feelings or something else–does not have to ruin us. Like Joseph, God may want to use that thing to put us in a different place, where He wants to use us in ways we couldn’t have understood before.
Romans 8:28 reminds us that “We know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.” (NLT)
You may not have reached the palace yet. You may still be looking from inside the prison. But don’t give up, don’t lose hope.
You may not know why these things have happened, but you can rest knowing that God can use them for your greater, incredible, most wonderful good–to bring that dream to reality, to help you achieve that goal.
Since our eldest was born 23 years ago, Robyn and I have realized there are many things people say children should learn, many things parents should focus on to ensure their kids turn out great, to have a happy family. We’ve tried a few of them. Some of them have worked, but many of them have been real stinkers.
We’ve done our best. We’ve had some highs, and we’ve had some lows. We don’t focus a lot on grades, we don’t sign up for a lot of extracurricular activities. We may have yelled more than we meant to, and I’m pretty sure we’ve frustrated our kids’ teachers more than once with those middle of the school year vacations.
Yet, in spite of our mistakes, I’m told quite often, “You have great kids,” or “Your family always seems to have so much fun.” I like that. I love it when someone compliments my children and says nice things about them. It means a lot to me when someone notices the smiles on our faces. As a parent, we know all the ways our kids screw up, so when someone stops and says something nice, it makes me stop. When they compliment our family, it makes me pause and wonder–maybe we’re doing something right?
Recently, I think I discovered what weare doing right. In our flawed but fun way of doing things, I think we’ve hit on the right formula for having a great family, and some pretty good kids. Here are our family’s threerules. I’m hopeful these will work for you, too.
Rule #1: Create memories. Wherever you can. Whenever you can.
Whether it’s a National Park, a trip to Disneyland, or just dressing up like pirates for free donuts–memories are a lasting gift we can give our kids that will outlast us. Do we go to Disneyland a lot? Yep. Have we worn out vehicles by driving on long road trips to National Parks across the West? You bet. You can save a lot of money, have a great plan for retirement, and have nicer things. But I’d really rather have the memories, because these will stick with me–and them–for the rest of our lives. Because of these memory-making adventures, we’ve created an incredible familial bond. The bonus? We actually like being together.
As a former pastor, my kids were always stuck at church. A lot. This could have been a cause of resentment, or it could turn into a way to help my kids discover ways they can make a difference in the life of someone else. When we serve others, we get the focus off ourselves and start thinking about others. Whether it’s leading worship, teaching preschoolers, or serving at camp, they’ve all spent a huge part of their lives serving others. There’s nothing better than seeing them leading kids younger than themselves, and finding ways to use their talents for the good of someone else. And to be honest, my favorite moments in ministry were those days when we all get to do it together.
Rule #3: Show honor. At home. At school. Everywhere.
We are all inherently selfish people, and we all naturally think of ourselves first. When we focus on honoring others first, in our words and actions, we remember that “It’s not all about me.” We have used an honor chart to keep track of whether we are acting honorably or not (even the parents), and it really helps us put others first. We try to ask–is what I’m about to do honoring? Does this response or action show that I think highly of and care for someone else? If we can teach our kids to live and act and speak honorably to others, then we will have done something good for the world.
There you have it. Our three family rules. If you do #2 and #3 right, go out and celebrate, which leads you back to #1. Repeat as often as possible.
What’s interesting in the lead up to the big moment of parenthood is that you learn all about how to have a baby. You learn how to breathe, what happens at the hospital, all the options for pain management. How to have a baby is a big deal, sure.
But nobody tells you how to be a parent. Maybe because the process for giving birth is much more straightforward. It’s a series of events that are pretty predictable after thousands of years of human existence. But parenting? Honestly, it’s anything goes. We all agree on the basics of having a baby, but how to ensure that baby turns into a good human adult? Opinions vary.
23 years ago, Robyn and I became parents. And we have done everything we can possibly do to ensure our oldest child–and the three that followed–are turning out okay. But it’s a struggle every single day, even as they get older and you realize that your roles and responsibilities change through the years. The tactics that worked with a two year old are not as effective on that same girl as a 16 year old. The troubles your 13 year old faces are much different than the ones your “adult” kids have, and yet you still have a responsibility to them. After all, you made them. It’s your fault they are here.
I was thinking about this as I talked to a younger dad I work with this week. He said, “You’ve been a parent forever,” which I took to mean I have experience, and not that I’m old, “what do you think are the big things I should do as a dad? How can I not screw up my kids?”
That’s the big goal, right? I honestly just hope that everything we’ve done as parents didn’t screw my kids up. I will find out someday when they hit therapy and tell me, “Hey, Daddy, we need to talk.”
So, based on my limited experience over 23 years, four kids, and a lot of incredible partnership from my wife, here are three things I think every dad should do to ensure he doesn’t screw up his kids.
EMBRACE EVERY MOMENT AND CREATE EVERY MEMORY. We have eschewed a lot of the nicer things in life in the pursuit of creating moments and memories with our kids. We will drop what is “important” for the sake of the moment. Sure, a school report has to get done, but why not go enjoy Free Slurpee Day? Why buy the expensive furniture (that you have to yell at them to keep clean) when you could use that money to go on a road trip, stay in a hotel, and eat at a restaurant with swings in Durango, Colorado? Your kids are only going to be with you for a little while. Go do all the things you can, take all the pictures you can. Your bank account may not be full, but your heart will be–and they will place an importance on making memories with their own kids someday. That’s a legacy you want to give them, because it shows them they matter more than your stuff and more than your money.
HAVE HARD CONVERSATIONS. This is not always easy. When you see your kids making unwise choices, step up and say so. Don’t expect them to be perfect, give them room to fail. But when they make choices that will hurt them in the future, remember: you are the parent. You aren’t there to be their pal. I’ve had to talk to my kids about sex, porn, drugs, drinking. I’ve had to confront them on bad attitudes and disrespect. I’ve had to talk about responsibility and initiative, confront them on plagiarism and cheating. And be honest–if you’ve screwed up in some of these ways, let them know and explain why you aren’t going to let them fail in the same ways. Create a place where honesty is rewarded and truth (even when it’s difficult) shines.
RESPECT AND HONOR THEIR MOTHER. This is certainly true for married couples raising their kids, but it’s also true if you’re divorced or separated. You and your children’s mother may not agree all the time. You will fight and you will have moments where you don’t like each other. But when you model respect and honor, you teach your daughters to expect to be treated that way, and you teach your sons to treat other women that way. I wish I was perfect at this, and I know Robyn does, too. But I try hard to disagree with honor and avoid hurtful or disrespectful words or actions to my wife because I value the relationships my kids will have with their spouses someday. As a Christian, I take to heart Paul’s admonition that as a husband, I need to love my wife as Christ loved the church–which means giving myself up for her. Honoring and respecting her is a gift I give not only to the woman I love, but to the kids who love her as well.
After 23 years of fatherhood, is that all? No. You’ll notice I didn’t say here are the ONLY three things you should do as a dad. And these may not even be the top three, just the three that came to mind this week. I’m sure we could write a book about the things we’ve learned about parenting four incredibly unique and different children (and maybe we will).
But in the meantime, try these things out with your kids. Be the kind of dad your children need you to be. Try these three things today and see what a difference they make in your family.
Embrace every moment. Don’t be afraid to confront. Show as much honor as possible.
Today’s one of those holidays that comes with a lot of pressure. The pressure of perfection, felt in everything from food to family, and I want to encourage you to look at this day and let all that it has the potential to be and then forget about it.
Relax.
It’s just a meal.
Whether you eat turkey or ham or go full vegan, it’s just food. The pies can suck, the stuffing can be too moist, the turkey can be dry. It’s just food, and nobody’s ever had their lives ruined because of the cranberry sauce didn’t match the recipe from Pinterest.
And family? Let it be what it is: messy, crazy, annoying. Laugh when you can and tell stories. Don’t talk about politics, because honestly, will you change the political beliefs of anyone over dinner? Remind yourselves of the funny things you’ve shared over the years, tell stories about loved ones no longer with you.
But relax. Your dinner and day won’t be perfect. Your family will not be perfect. Some part of the meal will be just “okay,” and the kids will be loud and maybe obnoxious and somewhere along the course of the day feelings will get hurt.
So relax. Let the day be what it is. Remove the pressure.
Fill the day with whatever joy you can. Pause and be filled with thanksthinking.
There’s an important story in the life of Christ that might be good for us to take a look at before we jump into the busy holiday season that really kicks off for most of us this week. As we get ready for the familiar feelings of baking, being with friends and family, decorating for Christmas, or whatever else may be part of your family traditions, it’s important to pause in the middle of the familiar and see what we might miss. If you’re like me, you get so caught up with making sure you hit the traditions and making sure the mashed potatoes are just right, that you miss the wonder in the middle of all that very familiar combination of smells, sights, and sounds.
There’s a moment in the life of Jesus where He takes three of His favorite disciples to the top of a mountain—and then things get a little crazy. He invites Peter, James, and John to join him on a high mountain. No one knows just which mountain it was, but when they get to the top, Jesus’ appearance changes from the every day look they have seen since first meeting Him. His face lights up like the sun, his clothes glow—and then it gets even weirder, because Moses and Elijah show up.
Peter’s response is classic. He recognizes that this is such an incredible moment. This might be the greatest thing in his life at this point, and he’s seen Jesus do amazing things. This moment is so great that Peter never wants to leave. He loves this, and tells Jesus that he’d be happy to stay at the top of the mountain with Jesus and the prophet and the patriarch. But then God speaks directly to the disciples. God reminds them that Jesus is His Son—and then says they should listen to what He says.
This story is important for a couple of big reasons, and as we near the holidays, it’s good to remember why it’s included in the Gospel. Like many of us, we get comfortable with what is familiar. Perhaps your relationship with Christ is a long one, and you have grown familiar with it. You don’t see it with fresh eyes anymore, and you may have lost track of why His coming matters so much.
The disciples knew Jesus well. They were with Him constantly. Just a few days before this event happens, Jesus had asked them, “Who do people say that I am?” Peter is the only one who blurts out that Jesus is the Christ, the Promised One, the Messiah. He’s right—that’s exactly who Jesus is. But did Peter really believe it? Did He really see that Jesus was God incarnate—fully human, yet completely God?
On the mountaintop, Peter must have thought back to his words. When he saw Jesus’ glory fully revealed, and heard God speak to Him, he must have realized that what he had blurted out in a quick moment was actually the greatest truth anyone could ever know!
It would have been amazing to stay there, on the top of the mountain, hanging out with Jesus and Elijah and Moses! Think of the emotions, the feelings, the wonder! But God stops Peter’s idea of staying there, memorializing the moment. He interrupts the disciple, reminds them that Jesus is His Son—and then says the greatest thing He could: listen to Him.
When all the glory and light and wonder fades away, the disciples look up and see only Jesus. He’s all that’s there. It’s as if God is reminding them—and us—to not forget the wonder and the greatness and the glory of His Son. But don’t just see it and feel it, let it impact you, let it do something in you. “Listen to Him,” says God. And then we are left with only Jesus. What else could we need?
Now, close your eyes and think of your holiday season. Picture the sights and sounds, the smells, the experiences–the “gingerbread feelings.” Think of the people you love, the family who bugs you, the coworkers who sometimes drive you crazy. Imagine what their faces looks like, what they smell and talk like. Now, instead of thinking about what they are like every day, think of them on a day when they have been especially happy or excited or glad. Think of how different they look, how they sound or act. When we are at our best, we are more who we are meant to be, and that’s how it was for Jesus that day.
God revealed Jesus to us because He wanted us to know that He was at His best so we wouldn’t have to remain at our worst. That’s what’s so amazing about this incredible story–and why, as you prepare for your holidays and all the familiar things you’re about to experience–don’t forget the wonder.
I love this time of year, and I love collecting facts about the holiday.
My collection of Christmas facts started in 2000 when I started writing and producing an annual Christmas musical every year for a large church in my hometown of Seattle. As part of the “pre-show” to keep the large crowds entertained before the show started, I would create a presentation sharing completely inconsequential but entertaining facts about this most beloved of all holidays.
Here are some of my favorites:
The celebration of Christ’s birth on December 25th did not become part of tradition until 320 AD, more than 300 years after His birth.
A Christmas film classic, Miracle on 34th Street, was actually released in the summer of 1947. It won Oscars for Best Support Actor, Screenplay, and Original Story and was nominated for Best Picture.
Alabama was the first state to declare Christmas a legal holiday–in 1836. At this time, most people worked on Christmas Day, including Congress.
George Fredrich Handel composed The Messiah in just 24 days. He began writing on August 22, 1741 and did not eat or sleep until it was finished.
The first Christmas card was made in 1843 by English painter and illustrator John Calcott Horsley.
According to most historians, the earliest example of decorating a fir tree for Christmas took place in the small country of Latvia in the year 1510.
The most-loved of all carols, Stille Nacht (Silent Night), was written in 1818 by an Austrian priest named Joseph Mohr.
Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, published a week before Christmas in 1834, was an instant best-seller and remains his most popular novel.
Arthur Rankin and Jules Bass created more than 17 Christmas specials, including Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer, The Year Without a Santa Claus, and more obscure ones like Nestor, the Long-Eared Christmas Donkey.
Clement C. Moore, writing a poem for his children, invented the modern idea of Santa Claus in 1823 with the publication of A Visit from St. Nicholas, now better known as The Night Before Christmas.
American political cartoonist Thomas Nast was the first artist to picture St. Nicholas, in a magazine illustration in 1870.
The Dutch version of St. Nicholas, Sint Klauss, was brought to America by the settlers of New Amersterdam. He became Americanized in the early 1900’s as Santa Claus.
The image of Santa Claus we are most familiar with today is the result of a series of ads for Coca-Cola. Dutch-born artist Haddon Sundblom created the modern look of Santa Claus in 1931.
Considered by many to be the classic special, A Charlie Brown Christmas has been shown every year since 1965.
“The Christmas Song” was written in 1944 by Mel Tormé and Bob Wells in an attempt to cool off during a hot Los Angeles summer.
In 1856, President Franklin Pierce became the first President to decorate a Christmas tree in the White House.
Noel, Virginia, is just one of 50 towns named Noel in the United States.
Rankin-Bass’ classic animated version of Rudolph debuted on December 6, 1964, as part of the General Electric Fantasy Hour.
Egg nog was first consumed in America in 1607. Captain John Smith reportedly made the first batch at Jamestown.
The first live nativity scene was created by St. Francis of Assisi in 1224.
Felix Mendelssohn wrote the music that became the melody of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” for an 1840 concert celebrating the invention of the printing press.
The word “Christmas” entered the English language around the year 1050 as the Old English phrase “Christes masse,” meaning “festival of Christ.”
In 1882, one of Thomas Edison’s employees, Edward Johnson, put the first electric lights on a Christmas tree–a string of 80 lights he designed himself.
The first “American” Christmas carol, ‘Twas in the Moon of Wintertime (The Huron Carol), was written by a Jesuit priest named Jean de Brebuf. He wrote the songs to help the Huron Indians understand the birth of Christ.
The inventor of modern color printing, American printer Lewis Prang, also created the first American Christmas card in 1874.
In 1851, Mark Carr hauled two sleds loaded with trees from the Catskills to the streets of New York and opened the first retail Christmas tree lot in the United States.
President Calvin Coolidge began the tradition of decorating a tree outside the White House in 1923.
Ralph Blaine and Hugh Martin wrote the song “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” for the film Meet Me in St. Louis in 1944. Its original context is one of sadness, as it is sung to comfort a little girl broken-hearted over her family’s impending move. That’s why the song suggests she “have a merry little Christmas now.”
There are eleven towns named Santa Claus in the United States.
The original 1942 recording of “White Christmas” by Bing Crosby is the best-selling Christmas song of all time. It has sold more than 30 million copies.
Russian tradition doesn’t include Santa Claus. On January 1st, Grandfather Frost brings gifts to children.
One of the most-loved films of all time, Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life, was released in 1946. It was a box-office disaster when it was first released and almost ruined the career of star Jimmy Stewart.
The first Christmas postage stamp was issued in Canada in 1898. The United States didn’t get around to making Christmas stamps until 1962.
The best-selling Christmas album of all time remains Kenny G’s Miracles: The Holiday Album. It has sold nearly 9 million copies.
The season has inspired countless classic films. It also inspired one of the worst movies ever made: Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, released in 1964.
Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer did not start off as a song, but as a Montgomery Ward promotional giveaway by staff copywriter Robert May.
Poinsettias were brought to the United States from Mexico in 1828 by the first US Ambassador to Mexico, Joel Roberts Poinsett, for whom the plant was named.
There’s a few fun facts to wow the family with when the conversation gets awkward this Christmas. You never know when one of those moments will happen, so keep these handy and maybe you’ll turn this into one of those Christmases nobody wants to forget!
As a former children’s pastor, I had many interesting conversations with parents about the difficult conversations they’ve had with their children. A lot of parents seem to have huge concerns and issues with Disney and Harry Potter. They worry about certain television shows and video games. But what really surprises me is the number of Christian parents who freak out over Santa Claus. Yes, the jolly man in the red suit who brings presents to kids at Christmas is as big a deal for some parents as the Ten Commandments. Other parents look at the story of Sant and enjoy it for its history and charm.
Parents who like Santa say, “He’s a harmless childhood memory!” The parents who don’t find him that say things like, “You’re lying to children if you tell them to believe in Santa!”
I’ve heard, “He’s just something fun to help kids get into the spirit of giving!” And, “He keeps kids from believing in Jesus, the true reason for the season!”
When I look at Santa Claus, I think this:
“I really don’t care how you feel about him.”
That may be controversial. After all, I was a children’s pastor and in ministry for 20 years. My whole job was to help families connect with God, and more importantly, to His Son, Jesus—and to help them develop a personal relationship with Him and grow in their faith. As an author of a book on Christmas, I realized this year that part of my job continues to be to help people focus on what matters most this time of year: the incredible wonder of the Incarnation.
But still, the social media posts, opinions and even casual conversations reveal that people consider this as important as their families political views or whether they eat turkey or ham at Thanksgiving. There is a major “anti-Santa” faction in the church and there’s a group of “pro-Santa” people, and they are arguing over which take is correct. Here’s the thing, everyone: it doesn’t really matter if your family is “pro-Santa” or “anti-Santa.” (And it doesn’t matter whether you love Disney or hate it, whether you think Harry Potter is a cute book or you think it’s a doorway to going Wiccan.)
Parents: what matters is what you are focusing on with your kids.
Someone I really respect in kids and family ministry, Reggie Joiner, says this in his book Think Orange:
“I recall a number of times during my life as a leader in the church in which I would look around…and realize we had drifted. What are we doing fighting with these people? Why am I so anxious about things that don’t really worry God? I have a hard time imagining Him getting worked up about too many of those things. I sincerely doubt God is in heaven saying frantically, ‘Oh no! J. K. Rowling is writing another one of those books!’ or ‘Calling all angels: Disney is letting those people into their park. I need you to rally some Christians to boycott.’”
I would venture to say God feels the same way about Santa Claus.
Joiner concludes with this: “I can imagine God saying to us, ‘What are you doing? Why are you focused on that other stuff? Bring the light back over here where it belongs. Show them who I AM.”
A lot of parents don’t want to think about how to help their kids develop hearts of service. They don’t try to figure out how to help their kids have a quiet time, or how to take what they learn on Sunday and apply it to the every day, messy world they live in. And at Christmastime, it’s amazing to me how many parents don’t take time to pause and think about just how incredible that night in Bethlehem was and what it means for them and their families.
No, a lot of Christian parents want to share an opinion and take a position about something our Christian life shoul never be about: what books to read or not to read, what movies to see or not to see, where to go or not go on vacation, what games to play or not play—whether we should or should not encourage kids to believe in Santa.
Because you see, if you really want to get down to it, none of what we do at Christmas really matters.
The Christmas tree.
Singing carols.
Candlelight Christmas Eve services.
Giving gifts.
Lights.
Mistletoe, holly, egg nog lattes, and red cups at Starbucks.
Big dinners.
Yummy treats.
Chestnuts roasting, winter wonderlands, little drummer boys.
Saying “Merry Christmas” instead of “Happy Holidays.”
You see, all of it, like the tradition of Santa Claus, has the danger of distracting us from what we are actually supposed to be doing: shining light into a lost world that so desperately needs the hope only Emmanuel, the God who is with us, can offer.
Anything else is just opinion and personal preference, like whether your family opens presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. It’s not wrong to believe in Santa. And it’s not right to not believe. What is wrong is when you look at the trappings of the season—whatever they may look like for your family—and think that it really matters.
Because it doesn’t.
What do we think about at Christmas?
“That sales clerk said ‘Happy Holidays’ to me.”
“Those parents lie to their kids about Santa.”
“That church isn’t having services on Christmas Day!”
“Those parents told their kids there isn’t a Santa Claus!”
What should we be thinking about at Christmas?
The fact that the tiny Baby, the Incarnate God, knew you before you were born. He walked with Moses. He gave David courage. He conversed with Abraham. He wrestled with Jacob. He spoke the words and the planets sprang into existence. He waved His hands and mountains and oceans and rivers came to be. And yet, He gave ALL of that up to clothe Himself in humanity–wrapping Himself in our fragile, frail form. To be with us.
He did it because His love for you was so great that He could do nothing less.
This is what matters to God.
So, truth is, it really doesn’t matter how you feel about Santa. Or Harry Potter. Or even Disney, for that matter.
What matters is whether or not your kids—and your family—are sharing what what matters most to a world that so desperately needs the hope and peace only He can offer. To the family member who drives you crazy. To the single mother who wonders where dinner is coming from. To the clerk at the store who has been instructed to say that thing that offends you.
They may not say it out loud, but all of them are crying out, like Charlie Brown, “Can’t somebody show me what Christmas is really all about?” Our job is to be Linus, who walks onto the dark stage and says what we should all be saying this Christmas. “Lights, please.”
“Ah, bleak and chill the wintry wind, but colder far be he who hath no warmth of love to share.”
She had been standing on the corner since morning. The skies had clouded up, and the first hints of winter snow fell. But she was standing on the corner, wrapped tightly in her winter coat, the baby in her arms, the sign at her feet.
Few had stopped to ask her how she was. The lunchtime crowds had hurried from the buildings surrounding her, dwarfing her, and no one noticed or paid much attention. Like many before her, she stood in the busiest section of the city, not begging, not pleading, but asking.
And being refused.
Some of the shoppers had glanced at her out of the corner of their eyes. “Why doesn’t she get herself a job,” muttered one to another as they hurried from store to store — their eyes set more on the shop windows than on the street in front of them.
No one read the sign that day. The snow had stopped early in the evening, but she did not move. Standing alone in the shadow of the department store, she did little more than smile at the occasional passerby who happened to look her in the eye.
She had eaten her lunch there, from a brown bag like so many others, and had fed the child there as well. She had watched the setting sun glint upon the multi-story glass buildings, and saw the street lamps light and the trees lit with hundreds of small lights. And, shortly before nine o’clock, when the streets were finally empty, she left.
The next morning, two others had taken her place and no one noticed the difference. If they had only looked at the sign. The sign was there to explain the truth and the need.
No one looked at the sign — yes, it still lay there, leaning wind-worn and tired against the marble. But we can do what no one else would do. We can take time to notice the sign and read what it says:
“I’m not asking for money. I don’t wish for a job. I have both and I am happy. But others are not. And for their sake, please look. Look past the coldness and remember what Someone said long ago: When you have done it unto the least of these my brothers, you have done it unto me. Open your eyes to those around you and maybe we will find a way to make peace in this world.”
Over two thousand years ago, the signs were ignored, and the cold wind of those who rejected Christ still blows.
The phrase “rest you merry” has nothing to do with Christmas. It dates back to Medieval England–as early as 1300, when it was used in a romantic tale called “Floris and Blauncheflur.” Of course, that was in Old English, and much harder to read today.
By 1548, English Bishop Thomas Cooper referred to it in the Latin dictionary, “Bibliotheca Eliotae,” and made clear that it was term used by the common people for “be glad or joyful.”
In 1599, Shakespeare used the expression when William says goodbye to Touchstone in Act 5. The song we know today is from the Elizabethan era, and it was a common way of greeting someone or saying farewell.
By the time the reference showed up in the Christmas carol, it had come to mean “a state of pleasant happiness.” So, when folks in the 1600’s sang the song, they were hoping the gentlemen (and women) would be kept in a state of pleasant, harmonious, joy by God as a result of all the amazing things that happened on Christmas Day.
When the song was finally written down in 1760, the phrase had fallen out of use, and the publisher made the very egregious error of misplacing the comma. What should have been a song of encouragement to find joy and happiness to a group of gentlemen instead turned into a song about hoping a group of happy gentlemen find some rest.
But the wonderful fact is that the idea of “resting merry” was never intended to be something you did for just one month of the year. It was meant to be a way of life, a wish for people you cared for. Not just at Christmas, but every single day of your life.
Duane S. Montague 