2023-11-15T19:45:10+00:00

To Skip Or Not To Skip

November 15, 2023November 15, 2023/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Today’s site prompt is, “What part of your routine do you always try to skip if you can?” and that fits pretty well with what I was thinking about right now.

First of all, what does “if you can” mean? It is my routine, I decided it was important, and made it a practice. Now, if this means work, in general, or specific tasks at work, I misunderstand the assignment. I could skip them, but it probably also means I am skipping employment, and that seems like a different question. But if it’s my routine, I can skip it if I want. No one is making me live the way I do, I am mostly free to do or not do.

The right answer to the prompt is Leg Day. I lift weights, separating days into Push (chest, shoulders, triceps), Pull (back, biceps), and Legs. This morning was Leg Day, and now my legs, back, buns, feet and toes hurt, my neck and head are heavy and tired. I know tonight I’ll have to go to bed, and that means I might have to crawl up the stairs. Maybe I’ll sleep on the couch down here. Sleeping next to the Angel is wonderful, but my legs.

My routine is made up of items like feeding the many pets in this house, working out, showering, eating breakfast, brushing my teeth, reading the Bible, lunch, dishes, writing, picking my boy up from school, and lots of other things I don’t remember now. But the number of things or even what they are aren’t the point. The point is that I created this routine.

We decide what’s important, what we value, and then we (hopefully) implement them. We brush our teeth because clean teeth matters to us. We eat breakfast, or we don’t, because we’ve given assigned a heavy weight to either one. None of them are necessarily convenient, but they are the blocks we use to intentionally build our lives.

I sat in my chair this morning with precisely this situation in my lap. Of course, I didn’t want to. I know what Leg Day is, and I no longer love it like I did even a few years ago. But I wouldn’t skip it, any more than I’d skip getting dressed. I am a man who lifts legs. I like that I am that man, it means something, it says things about me. It says I’m consistent, reliable, that I do hard things. Legs aren’t really the point, those characteristics are, and legs are how I remind me of them, and the man I want to be. I’m not always reliable, don’t always do the hard things, but getting up early on Wednesdays to lift legs without choosing the easy excuses moves me further along the path towards who I will be.

I can skip Leg Day, but why would I compromise on future me. We too often settle. I too often settle. And I guess I think part of reclaiming our worth as human beings is not settling for the crumbs that fall from the plate on the way to the trash, when we belong at the table.

I could be consistent most of the time, when it fits the schedule or the company. I could do hard things, unless it’s too hard. And I can do leg day, except for those days I don’t feel like it. But I’ve settled for a very long time. I am already well aware of the boy “when I feel like it” makes. I can’t wait to see what happens, to find out who I become, if I stop settling for so much less.

Sunday the 22nd of October

October 23, 2023/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

Yesterday wasn’t my favorite day. We’ll get to the site prompt (“What are you most proud of in your life?”) in a minute, but not yet.

Yesterday began in the middle of the night – I have’s been sleeping very well lately. There is quite a bit swirling in this empty head of mine, lots of emotions, responsibilities, sadness, concern. The world is burning and so are our communities. Usually, I know that’s true, but am able to see the beauty and manage to hold all of it in both hands. I can’t right now. So I don’t sleep so great.

In the middle of the night I turned on The Ringleader: The Case of the Bling Ring, which is a Max documentary on Rachel Lee, the “mastermind” of the salacious story of teenagers robbing celebrities’ houses. It was ok, I don’t know if she is actually the ringleader the title suggests, I don’t have any idea if any of the people involved have ever told the truth. Based on as many times as Ms Lee referred to “her truth,” it’s impossible to know if she knows what it is.

Then my family and I helped to clean up our local park after their annual Halloween/Fall Fest & haunted walk. Halloween is less than 2 weeks away and it can’t come and go soon enough.

Then I went to the Sunday service at our faith community and gave a sermon that went surprisingly well, given my mental/physical state. I think I might be getting sick.

Then I watched football on the RedZone and perhaps took a short nap. Then, in the evening, my beautiful family took a run at me, after I expressed a certain vulnerability. We can talk about that particular vulnerability and their particular run another time, but this is not the point of this post. (Although, neither was the Bling Ring, but I gave that a few more sentences than it warranted, in the bigger picture.)

Appreciation is for children, mostly. When you’re a million years old, as I am, you need a pat on the back far less than a 6 year old does. It’s nice, obviously, but hopefully, by this time, we have a sense of who we are that isn’t totally dependent on the opinions of others, even runs from your family. And that’s the answer to the site’s question.

There was a time where an attack from those closest to me would have been a wrecking ball that left me in ruins for weeks. My insecurities would have run wild and I might have wondered what I was doing and why I was such a bad everything. Those days are in the rear view. I did listen, and what I have learned is that all people, even those who love us the most, sometimes speak out of their own interest. I do it, and so do you. Sometimes criticism isn’t about the person to whom it’s directed, and growth is being able to tell the difference.

I remember 2 years ago a woman scolded me, in great detail, over my many faults. She hadn’t seen me in several years before that, and we had connected over a bagel for a half hour before she gave me her diagnosis. I do have many faults, but not the ones she perceived. So we let those go and move on.

My family wasn’t exactly wrong, they do know me and my weaknesses, and they doubtlessly love me to the mooooon and back, but last night’s run wasn’t meant for me. There simply isn’t anything to do with it.

But what I did see is something cool. One of the primary values in my life is the ability to create safe environments for people to take necessary journeys of discovery (of themselves, others, and God). The fact that my family was safe and able to express themselves so fully without lasting repercussion from a fragile ego, with the benefit of hindsight and a few minutes of space, served as my answer to this site. I am happy. I happen to believe and follow Jesus (if you don’t, you can call it whatever you like, I don’t mind) and have listtened to His answer to the BIG QUESTION of who I am. I am grateful, more than anything else.

I am a human being with enough faults & failures to spare, but I am growing. I am not who I was, not who I will be, but this man I am now is not so bad. The weather is nice here, I just wish I could sleep a little.

A Theory and A Resolution

September 4, 2023/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I have this theory. Let’s say a person is ruining their life by, for example, listening to tons and tons of Dave Matthews Band albums. This is an objective perspective, no rational human could disagree, he/she is taking a sledgehammer to his/her precious life.

In scenario A, you don’t really know him well, if at all. If you walk right up and tell him what a huge mistake he’s making, “Repent!!!!” there is a 0% chance he will change this abhorrent behavior.

In scenario B, you know her very well, you are friends (not just online social media “friends,” but actual friends), BUT she has not asked you what you think of her choices, including this DMB mistake. If you, at that point, as a good friend, give your opinion, she will take it kindly & graciously, carefully consider your words and act appropriately 7% of the time.

In scenario C, a perfect storm occurs, and a very good friend asks you what you think of her choices, especially this Dave Matthews embarrassment. Now, you have a deep, solid relationship, AND she has asked you about this wrecking ball that is devastating her soul. When you answer her specific question, there is a sky high 21% chance of action.

This begs an interesting question. If my (admittedly anecdotal) theory is even close to correct, why would we ever reach out to another? Scenario A – the equivalent of sandwich boards on street corners – has no upside and could quite possibly end with physical violence. Scenario B and C have little hope for positive outcome and often ends with hurt feelings and/or distance & division. So why would we risk it?

We love each other, and we are called to care for each other, to be our brother’s keeper, that’s probably why. If we see a car bearing down on a pedestrian, wouldn’t we push them out of the way? Isn’t it our responsibility to push them out of the way? If we didn’t, aren’t we nearly as guilty as the driver? What kind of world do we live in, if no one is looking out for anyone else?

Of course, I’m not talking about simple personal preference, sticking our noses into everybody’s business, trying to ‘save’ each other from the wrong toothpaste or type of apple. This is real life.

I don’t take it well, when somebody I know and trust pulls me aside to critique or question the path I’m on. But certainly I should. It’s incredibly hard for them to do what they did, and it probably has been sitting heavy on their shoulders for months, trying to invent any reason to not confront me. Unless they are arrogant animals, in which case, it’s not courageous at all and is instead, wildly ego-centric and completely insufferable. I think I’m going to be more open to this kind of feedback, as my New September’s Resolution.

But if I have a friend who is fixed on self-destruction, Scenario B or C, where I’m as sure as I can be that it’s not a personal preference, and is a Dave Matthews-type situation, I’m going to try a 2 prong approach. First, I’m going to offer my perspective, with no judgment or expectation, in love and in gentleness. Well, the no expectation part is the second prong, which might just be part of the first. Maybe it’s just a complex 1 prong approach. With no expectations, I will take a breath and offer my heart, and if they do nothing with it (if they’re one of the 79%), I will be ok with it. I will lay down my insatiable desire to control in deference to the relationship and my love for them. I will try be ok with it and try to lay to rest that big nasty roaring bloodthirsty control monster in my head.

This is my theory and my resolution. Wish me luck.

Extra Cookies

August 14, 2023/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I don’t know why we do the things we do. In the Bible, in one of the most relatable passages, Paul writes, “Why do I do the things I don’t want to do, and don’t do the things I want to do?”

It’s that way with me, too. I want to make great decisions, eat, say and do the right things. And yet I don’t. Why is that? And then, there is the maddening confusion and frustration as I watch others make the choices that will hurt them, and then they do this over and over again. I know full well that, as I write the words “others” and “they,” that “they” aren’t they at all, but me, and us.

Of course it’s confusing, how could I possibly understand another’s thought process when I often can’t understand my own?

I ask my boys why they do the things they do – I ask this for good, positive decisions as well as the ones that, umm, aren’t so good and positive – and they inevitably say, “I don’t know.” That’s probably what separates us, is a sign post on the journey to maturity, the self-awareness to know why. Maybe the decisions stay poor, or inconsistent, or irresponsible, but at least we know why.

A few days ago, the Angel and I had an argument over the day’s plans. I asked and felt she didn’t communicate and blah blah blah, same as every other argument. One of us didn’t communicate as well as we thought we did, or thought we had to, the other disagreed, and sentences get short and edgy. It’s the anatomy of a silly disagreement, and it’s over in seconds, as soon as we breathe and come back. So, I want the plans because I want to eat together (I value sharing meals, and I’m not too sorry about that) and know what, where, and when (I also value control, and I am sorry about that).

I wanted to be gracious and problem solve, but I acted more like a petulant child. But I know why I snapped at her, the good reasons why, and the bad. Adults know why. I know why I had the extra cookie: my wife baked them and they were awesome. I probably shouldn’t have had the extra one, I felt a little sick afterwards, but I do know why.

And it’s the why that allows, and encourages, us to change. Or not. If I choose to lay down my need to know and/or control (maybe they’re the same), then we can constructively address the meals and time shared without egos. That I would like to do. I know why I ate the extra cookie, and maybe the sick belly is worth it. As a matter of fact, it is.

I might have chosen abs over cookies when I was 18 or tomorrow, but today, I think I can lose 10 lbs AND eat the extra cookie, because I’d like to live a life where I can metaphorically eat an extra cookie, from time to time. Maybe that relationship is more important than waking up early to get to the gym. Maybe it isn’t, who knows? Maybe sobriety weighs more than the relationship. Maybe not. Maybe being in a current horrible relationship is heavier than leaving, the fear of leaving is greater than the pain of staying. It’s our own hierarchy of worth, and it doesn’t matter what our friends or neighbors or the gossip at work thinks about it.

The confusion and frustration may still be maddening (as I watch everyone, me included) make unhealthy choices, but if they are, indeed, conscious choices, then there isn’t much to say, is there? We decide, based on weight. After factoring our values, we ask, what weighs more to us? Not eating, or eating, that cookie? Needing to know/control, or kindness and understanding? Me or you? Now or later? All of these things matter, none is less, they’re just the worth we assign as the people we are now.

The only things that are unacceptable, in actuality, are to not know why, to not know the values, and to not use our internal scales. Once we can accept the ownership of our choices, we are free to change them if/when we want, as we change, as we transform into the kind of people who stay or leave, who stay up late or wake up early, or the kind of people who eats the extra cookie. Or doesn’t. We’re all different, and we’re vastly different from ourselves a month or a year or a decade ago. The things we valued then might not be the things we value today, we have to allow for growth in our lives. But we have to know ourselves enough to recognize what they are, to tell the difference between life and death.

Last Night

July 18, 2023/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

With this blank screen in front of me, I know what I want to say, I just don’t know how to say it. Or even if I should, Our words should be used to build, and that is usually what I try to do in this space, but sometimes the point is in our bad behavior, hidden in our our most regrettable moments. And writing anything is about honesty, especially in a non-fiction blog situation. If we feel like the writer is curating an image, what on earth is the point? Anybody can wear a mask and lie. The only way to find connection is through a mutual authenticity, and sometimes that is ugly on the outside.

Last night the baseball season ended. The first day, I sat the boys down and said something like, teenage boys are awful a lot of the time. But that’s only because they usually deal in Lord of the Flies type social dynamics. They’re mean, sarcastic, cutting. They mock and tease, try to shrink others to make themselves appear taller. This is ridiculous and rooted, as everyone knows, in fear and a raging insecurity. They wear masks to try to hide the overwhelming inadequacy in their hearts.

Of course, this is not just teenage boys. It’s just as much women at your office or men at the grocery store. We act out of our perceived lack, and that makes us nasty and awfully dangerous.

So I tell them we will not do that here, we will operate from a different reality. You don’t have to be insecure here, you don’t have to be afraid. We’ll stand up straight, support and love each other. And that’s largely what happened. Errors and mistakes were easily forgotten, lots and lots of encouragement was poured out like water, and we won everything there was to win.

A side note: It’s not often enough that the best people are the best performers. The kindest, gentlest, most caring people don’t always win. When they do, as was the case this season, it must be acknowledged and savored. As written in the masterpiece Horton Hatches The Egg, “and it should be, it should be, it should be like that!”

Last night was the league celebration, where they got the trophies they had earned through hard work and commitment – to themselves, their gifts, the game, and each other. The second place team in the year end tournament was also there to collect theirs, as well.

Then the coach was invited to give the medals to the players, and he (clad in sunglasses and a skull t-shirt instead of a team/sponsor/uniform shirt), wearing an uninterested disguise, walked to the front, using foul language and disrespect as weapons.

Another side note: I don’t mind foul language, not much is offensive to me, but there is a time and a place. A youth sports event, in front of the league administration, players and parents, is not the place (whether they’ve all ‘heard it before’ or not.)

He handed his medals to the players without regard for them and their work. Then as we got ours, he made a derisive comment and they all refused to acknowledge any of us, as we collected tournament and league championships, and our players received their all-tournament & MVP awards.

It was so so sad. It might have been something, anything else if the behavior wasn’t so hollow and obvious. I wanted to cry and give him a hug.

My question was, why? Why would anyone want to discount or diminish an achievement, any achievement, of another? But I already know. The desperate quest for proving your worth, and the accompanying terror of not knowing if you’ll ever find it, is very powerful and has crushed far more than just him.

I don’t know if my team made the connection. When we were alone, I reiterated the importance of living free of the inadequacy/insecurity that weighs down so many of our moments – I wonder if they recognized that they were given a perfect illustration of the result of a lifetime under the boot of unworthiness, like the ghost of Christmas future.

As for the boys I coached, I told them they were beautiful, that I was so proud of them (championship or not), and that they were loved. I told them every minute we spent together was an honor for which I could never adequately express. Then we said goodbye for the last time this season.

As for that guy, I wish he hadn’t embarrassed himself so thoroughly. But more, I wish and pray that he finds some sort of peace in who he is and feels the familiar arms of a loving God around him, whispering in his ear that he is, and has always been, loved.

And as for me, (to again borrow from Horton and his egg), they sent me home happy, one hundred percent.

Knots

July 12, 2023/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

I say, without a hint of sarcasm or hyperbole, that I like everyone. I give an A the first day of class, in a manner of speaking. Some don’t trust until they have reason to, I trust until I have a reason not to. Of course, this doesn’t always work out well. I have been damaged, had my heart broken, been betrayed. But in these situation, forced to reconsider my position as a wide-open door, I choose to stay the course. Come in, make yourself at home.

Boundaries are a necessity that I’m learning. Not everyone should get unfettered access to you, especially after they’ve been careless a time or 2 or 80.

I say that, and it’s mostly true. But Friday I realized it has limits. I cut my mom’s grass and, without exception, there are piles of dog poop in her yard. She has no dog. There are monsters in this world. Some let their dogs off leash to do as they please, and others watch them defecate and make the conscious decision to leave it in another’s yard. As it turns out, I don’t like everyone.

So, Friday as I’m cleaning my shoes, I realize these monsters shouldn’t have dogs. But in all likelihood, they would agree. When they got the dog, they thought in music montage, running in the sunshine with their best buddy, scratching her ears, to an upbeat ‘60’s tune. They believe this is an accurate representation of having a dog. They’re wrong. Having a dog is those things; they’re wonderful, and wonderfully fun, but they’re also veterinarian appointments, barking, expensive food, vomit, and plastic bags. (This is not to mention the worst part of having a pet – they don’t live that long, so we are virtually assured of having our hearts crushed by their passing.) The monsters actually don’t want dogs, they want a “dog.”

This is like 6 pack abs. They are cool, sexy, and awesome, but they are also crunches, sweat, Russian twists, forgone desserts, protein shakes. There are no 2nd helpings. We want the glamorous, romanticized result, but we absolutely do not want the truth.

This is also like management. We want to be in charge, want the corner office, door plaque, we want to lead, but we do not want the nighttime calls, the pressure, stress, responsibility, the hard conversations and painful decisions.

This is also like marriage. We want the A+ relationship, but that’s only if it’s the hazy rose-petal dream of the movies. We certainly don’t want the tears, the fights, the “worse” part of “for better or worse,” the sacrifice, the communication and work of an A+ marriage.

We don’t want to pick up the poop.

I think that’s probably why we have such trouble committing. Maybe the reason our marriages fail in such high numbers, the reason why our relationships don’t last and are so superficial, why churches, bowling leagues, and teams have declining membership. We only want what we like, what is comfortable and convenient, we want idealized versions, and when the dogs stop in my mom’s front yard or there’s morning breath or the pastor says something we don’t agree with or we’re sore and don’t feel like going, we’re out. When the unrealistic picture we’ve been sold doesn’t match reality, we run from reality (rather than the other way around). We leave the excrement there for somebody else to clean up.

The thing that we don’t understand is that those rough patches add the most texture, the most value. We navigate the differences, disagreements, hold their hair when they’re sick, and we’re deeper and stronger as a result. The negatives aren’t negative at all, they’re the tension that makes knots tighter. And I’d suggest we all need tighter knots.

Steel Pipes

July 4, 2023/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The site prompt today is “What are you most worried about for the future?” I don’t really have an answer for that. Of course, there are a bunch of things I care about, interests, hopes I have for the future: that my boys find God, peace, joy, a community, and a woman to love…that the Angel and I can grow into little shriveled old people together, deeply in love…that we, as human beings, don’t tear the whole earth apart, killing ourselves and each other. Pretty universal, but not what I’d call worries. Most worried about? Maybe that we’d never recover our imaginations, and keep believing the lie that it is what it is, this is all there is, and we are all we’ll ever be.

Yesterday while my son was mowing my neighbor’s lawn, I heard a very loud noise, like a terrible cross between a clank and a bang. I ran to the window and he was no longer mowing, just looking at the machine with concern (like I sometimes look at him;). He started again, and stopped after a few yards. So I go outside to, well, I don’t know what I went outside for. What do I know about lawn mowers? As it turns out, I do know what it looks like when the blades are twisted and bent. I also know what damage twisted, bent blades do to a few yards of grass.

He drove right over a steel pipe (what I think is the outside access point for the sewer) in the front yard. Rather than avoid the obvious obstacle, he made a different, destructive choice.

I was frustrated – especially when I ask what he was thinking, and he responded with the all-purpose old faithful, “I don’t know.” But here’s the thing, how many times have I made the choice to disregard obvious obstructions or dangers, crashed into them and left sections of my life torn up and broken? I see the obstacle, the steel pipe in my path, and instead of navigating around it, instead of avoiding the thing that will wreck me, I continue to go headlong into what will surely bring pain and destruction. Now, why?

He had gone over this steel pipe before without trouble, but this time he lowered the deck because he didn’t want to mow again too soon. I am lazy, too. That is likely the reason I most often sabotage my own life, because I’m too lazy to change course. I’m prideful, too. Sometimes nobody can tell me anything because I know better. I know I can safely go over the steel pipe, until I can’t, then I have all of the lame excuses why it happened and why I wasn’t actually wrong.

Those are only 2 of a million, but now we have a chewed up patch of lawn that will take weeks to heal, a mower that will need (maybe expensive) repair, and we need to borrow another one in the meantime. 1 second of bad decision leaves many wide ripples of consequences. Consequences for a moment of weakness are the worst, but they’re probably the only way we’d ever learn, right? And if my boy is like me, he’ll have to hit that lousy sewer pipe over and over before it sinks in.

But it will.

Under Pressure

May 23, 2023May 23, 2023/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The site prompt today is, “How do you feel about cold weather?” Probably just like everyone else. And I’m titling this post Under Pressure a little because it fits with what I’ll be talking about (which is NOT cold weather) and mostly because the Queen/Bowie song is just the best.

I write about youth sports a lot as a doorway. What happens between end lines is a perfect microcosm of the things we all experience everywhere else and a terrific conversation starter.

Last night the high school baseball team had their first playoff team, against a much better team. We won roughly as many as we lost, they didn’t, they won almost all of their games. In fact, they beat us 3 times by a combined 30-3 margin. They are a Catholic school and behaved, as I have found, as is sadly common to religious schools. They’re extraordinarily arrogant and without a shred of sportsmanship. (I know this is usually what teams say when they’ve lost by a combined 30-3, but that doesn’t make it false.)

Our local school, a massive underdog, won the playoff game, the Catholic school’s season is over and we play on. That’s great, but not the point. The boys on the other side acted like babies, pouted, and cried afterwards, reminding us that they are still boys, no matter how big they are or how hard they throw. That isn’t even the point. Kids are pretty much the same wherever you go, emotional, irrational, and generally obnoxious. If we like them, their immaturity is endearing. If we don’t, it’s an indictment.

The Catholic school coaches are very, very good, their team is always sound. And when they win, they’ve been composed and well-mannered. But last night, they sulked, cursed loudly at the umpires (who, curiously, chose to shrink rather than enforce conduct regulations), continuously broke dugout/bench rules for players and coaches, and thoroughly embarrassed themselves.

It says, in Proverbs 24:10, “If you fail under pressure, your strength is not very great.” They say times of trial reveal character, and I’ve always been secretly afraid of the implications of that. I don’t really want the trial, but I do want to see my character as it truly is. It’s so easy to show class when the roads are smooth and all of the lights are green. What about in traffic on Pennsylvania highways? What about when things start to tighten up?

These coaches failed miserably yesterday. I don’t know them at all, and maybe this was a snapshot of their worst moments. Maybe they’re great dads and husbands. Maybe they’re usually community leaders and wonderful examples for their players. Maybe this is the exception. But on a big stage, in front of a lot of people, they tripped and fell.

That’s the thing about character, a lifetime of behavior can be dismantled in one regrettable moment or playoff ballgame. Of course that’s not fair, but it is reality. The storms are coming, the question is how will we navigate them? I guess we prepare, we train, we read, pray, grow, develop, we lift weights, not for today, but for the times we’ll have to use those muscles. We’ll find out how we’ll navigate them, we’ll discover what’s underneath; the hope is that who we are then is who we have been all along.

Site Prompt

April 26, 2023April 26, 2023/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

The site prompt for today is: “Write about a time when you didn’t take action but wish you had. What would you have done differently?” This is easy, I remember the exact moment and can draw a straight line from my sickening passivity to this table, today.

In college, some friends and I were at a dance club. Maybe that’s a strange thing to type or to read. It seems like a lifetime ago, which, I suppose, it was. So, we’re at this dance club in Harrisburg, PA, the night is winding down, and I’m standing outside the bathroom waiting for these friends, staring through the lobby windows (this club was attached to a chain hotel.) A drunk woman and her equally drunk boy were just outside on the sidewalk. He was standing over her, screaming. She was crying. Just a really awful scene. Sadly, this sort of scene wasn’t/isn’t as rare as it should be.

I knew there was only one thing for me to do, yet I stood glued to the ugly lobby carpet, dearly wishing I was not there. Then he hit her with the bottle and dumped the rest over her head as she slumped to the curb with her head in her hands. My head and heart exploded into a fiery mess, I’m feverish even now as I write. Yet I stood stock still.

Then my friends came out, I told them what I had seen, and we ran out as the boy ran away. We checked on her, offered to call an ambulance (which she declined – as a matter of fact, she would later find a ride at the end of the night WITH HIM!!!!) and talked like we were big time Protectors of the Realm. We threatened him to each other, and detailed all of the ways we’d have thrashed him, if only we were there. But I was, there was no hypothetical “if only” for me to hide behind.

I was weak and afraid. That night, she was much less important than small, selfish me. Of course she went home with him, how could she possibly know her value, as long as there were guys like watching her be treated like this? She obviously thought she deserved this trash, and apparently, so did I. What a terrible thing to write. These prompts are supposed to be light and superficial, aren’t they? I guess I am misunderstanding the assignment.

I wallowed in shame for years, horrified by my disgusting behavior, until I began the long process of re-programming me from a soft, pathetic pleaser into something else. I can’t say it even mattered what the something else was, at the time, just that who I was simply wouldn’t do anymore. It wasn’t good enough for her, for my sister, mom, friends, for my future wife and sons. I didn’t believe in God then, but it certainly wouldn’t be good enough for Him. And it wasn’t good enough for me.

I badly want to go back to show & tell that girl that she was beautiful and worth everything, that she deserved much much more than table scraps, that she was loved. I’d like to show him that, too. Because to let him think that he was worth nothing more that to be that guy, overwhelmed by his own insecurity and inadequacy, is equally unacceptable.

So now, that’s what I do. Every moment of my life is given to sharing that message. (And I lift a lot of weights, not so I could break him in half, but so that that kid would think I might. And that any other time he – or anyone else – thinks about mistreating a woman, he would think there might be someone like me who also might.) I no longer carry the crushing shame, it’s now passion and purpose.

It’s a cliché that we wouldn’t change anything because then, we wouldn’t be the people we are now. And that’s totally true. But I still wish I would’ve gone outside 2 minutes earlier.

FIFA, Jimmy Johnson, and High School Sports

April 21, 2023/The Bridge Faith Community/Leave a comment

There is a Netflix documentary called FIFA Uncovered, that details the massive corruption scandal in the world’s largest soccer organization. It’s fascinating and disgusting. As power and greed grows, so does the brazenness of those at the top of the pyramid. What is always remarkable is how easy it is to see. Unfortunately, that vision is ignored until it isn’t, and then we’re all so very shocked. It’s like the the steroid era (as if it ended) in baseball; the players and statistics grew like balloons, we liked it a lot, and now they’re “cheaters” (which they were/are) and we pretend to be horrified (which we aren’t).

The coaches of most high school sports teams hold parents meetings where they spout good-sounding platitudes linking grades, showing up and effort to playing time. They threaten to remove players from the team for any and all infractions. I imagine that they do this with fingers crossed that they’ll never have to follow through on these ridiculous threats. Of course, every season they’re exposed.

What’s so offensive about those 2 stories is that, hidden in their obvious deception, is the belief that we are too stupid to recognize the scoops of excrement being shoveled onto our feet. The executive committee of FIFA, passing favors and business contracts on the eve of major elections, barely stifle their laughter while they reason mere coincidence. The baseball coach talks about character and integrity, passing drivel like “if you’re ineligible for 2 weeks, you’re off the team” with an expression that stops just short of winking at his assistants.

I say to my sons, “Do I look like your dumb little buddies? Do you think I’m the kind of person who will believe what you’re saying?” But they’re children, just testing the boundaries to see if, maybe, people are indeed that dumb. What they’ll find is that even their little buddies aren’t that dumb. That elementary discovery melts away as their proud arrogance grows and grows until they begin to think they are on a different level, better than you, and we are witless rocks lining the path to their thrones.

Of course, superficially, lies are designed to avoid responsibility. These lies are disrespectful because the deception is explicit evidence that their wants/needs/whatever are more important than yours. Just beneath that, barely concealed, is the blatant admission that Sepp Blatter, head of FIFA, or ex-boyfriend, or co-worker, or son’s coach, thinks you’ll believe it.

Most of us can deal with any truth, we’re very forgiving. Some of the people in the doc admitted wrongdoing, saying some version of, “I got caught,” and “it’s impossible to eliminate corruption.” Like Jose Canseco, cartoon-ish home run hitter, who said, “yes, everybody was doing it, I did too.” Now, we can talk about corruption or steroids. Now that we can see the problem, it can be addressed.

Jimmy Johnson was the coach of the Dallas Cowboys in the greatest years of the NFL, the early 90’s, when the Cowboys were winning 3 Super Bowls in 4 years. Once, the story goes, a marginal player fell asleep in a team meeting and was immediately cut from the team, in the meeting in front of the team. After explaining the importance of discipline and setting tones, Johnson was asked, “What if the player was Troy Aikman?” referring to their Hall Of Fame quarterback. He replied, “I’d go ask him to please wake up.”

Maybe it’s the disrespect that we can’t abide. Maybe that’s where all the division comes from. Maybe we can’t talk politics because we squish the other side, categorizing them as dumb, un-educated, ignorant, as less than us. That’s a pretty tough place to begin a conversation. I understand Jimmy Johnson’s perspective, it makes sense to me, I might even agree with it’s unfairness. But if you don’t even give me a chance, if you just assume I sit at the kids table, I can’t understand. The issue gets shelved until the lie gets revealed, our humanity suffers and trust dies.

FIFA Uncovered was fine, but I ended up feeling like I do after parents meetings: like I need a shower from being in the slime for too long.

Love With A Capital L

A journey towards living an inspired life of love in the modern world

Tag: honesty