Last week we went canoeing on the Fox River in Wisconsin. Turns out we went canoeing IN the Fox River. This should have been the easiest canoeing trip ever (and in lots of ways it was) but still we managed to tip our canoe over and “become one with the river”. Now my wife will tell you this is my entire fault but it takes two to canoe (or two to canoe badly as the case may be). I’ve been canoeing 3 or 4 times in my life and 2 of those times have been with Debbie and both times we’ve ended up in the water – so our record is 2 for 2. Never turned a canoe over without Deb in it – I’m just sayin’…

We were with our friends Sue and Jeff and fortunately for Sue we provided plenty of opportunity for her to flex her laugh muscles. Sue assures us that the guffaws did not begin until after she knew that we were safe – or that Debbie was safe – she never actually mentioned my safety…hmmm? So depending on who is telling the story, here’s how it went down (no pun intended):

Debbie’s version: We were effortlessly skimming along the river when, all of a sudden, Denis shirked his responsibilities as co-captain and allowed the canoe to head directly toward the shore. He carelessly ignored my warnings and we crashed into the stony river bank. The jolt of our unexpected landing sent shockwaves several miles down the Fox River. Of course because we slammed into the bank, the canoe capsized and we narrowly escaped with our lives. It’s only because of my valiant efforts that we managed to survive the entire debacle at all.

Sue’s version: I was taking a break from paddling and was therefore able to witness the entire accident. Debbie and Denis apparently had gotten caught in an eddy in the river when strong winds slammed their canoe into the embankment. I screamed (this was later mistaken for laughter but I WOULD NEVER LAUGH AT MY FRIENDS’ MISFORTURE). I paddled our canoe to them and single-handedly saved them (I think Jeff may have been asleep). It’s only because of my valiant efforts that they managed to survive the entire debacle at all.

Jeff’s version: I warned Debbie and Denis to be careful! That river can be treacherous –it’s outdoors and everything! I was startled awake by Sue’s laughing (I had dosed off due to a sugar-crash from the previous day’s tour of fifteen bakeries in Southeastern Wisconsin and was having a glorious pastry dream). When I came to I noticed that Debbie and Denis were both in the water and that their canoe had filled with water. It’s only because of my valiant efforts that they managed to survive the entire debacle at all.

My version (AKA – THE TRUTH): I was watching a couple of dragonflies mating and sort of lost track of where we were in the river. Debbie yelled that we were going to “HIT THE BANK”! I asked her to remain calm (this didn’t happen). Of course when we nudged the river bank Debbie’s flailing arms caused such a wake that we capsized. I thought that the cool water actually felt pretty good. I don’t mean to brag but I did SAVE DEBBIE’S LIFE. It’s only because of my valiant efforts that we managed to survive the entire debacle at all.

I guess it’s true what they say, “Whatever ends well, something.., something…” Anyway, we’re back home now and dry. So today I’m thanking God for good friends, good times, and memories that will last a lifetime.  And that’s THE REAL TRUTH.

Peace,

Denis

I actually like fireworks.  I like the big fireworks displays at the local parks and festivals.  What I don’t like (hate) are the subdivision fireworks displays that make me feel as if I’m living in a war zone.  I hate all the little hooligans that live in (and around) our usually quiet little subdivision that feel the need to “light up the sky” for several days before AND after the actual 4^th of July – did I mention that this is mostly illegal?  Go to the park you punks; you’ll save money (or your stupid parents will) and you won’t annoy me!  Is that too much to ask?

Debbie tells me what she hates about the 4^th of July is that EVERY YEAR I turn into Mr. Wilson – “Dennis The Menace’s” cantankerous old neighbor.  Well, I have a mind to tell her a thing or two…  She won’t even yell at kids when they “cut through” our yard.  If things were left up to her we’d all be living in a state of chaos!  Somebody has to take a stand – this year I may sit in my yard with my garden hose on ‘power spray’.  That’ll teach ‘em!

Anyway, I think that perhaps in the past I may have overreacted but this year I’m really trying to exercise some self control.  Here’s my current plan:

I WILL LEAVE HOME

I figure if I stay away most of the weekend then afterwards I’ll only have to deal with the clean-up.  I won’t have to hear the dogs yapping every time another little darling shoots off yet another firecracker or M-80.  I won’t have to endure Debbie rolling her eyes every time I groan or curse.  And I won’t have to stay indoors the entire weekend for fear of shrapnel or falling debris.

Now I may be exaggerating a little (perhaps it’s due to the bad ‘Sparkler” burn I suffered as a kid. Those things can do some damage when you get one caught between your flip-flop and a barefoot – stupid sparklers!)  And maybe the kids in the neighborhood are just having fun – “remember fun?” Debbie sneers, as she rolls her eyes again.  “Yes”, I tell her “remember sanity?” “I’m trying to hold on to mine!” 

So this year I am going to embrace a détente.  This year I will celebrate Independence Day in a new way.  Freedom from neighborhood fireworks!  But I’ll still be cursing when I’m sweeping up on the 5^th  on my return!

The Lord’s Prayer says “forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us”.  So while I’m struggling to forgive the little neighborhood hoodlums for destroying my peace and quiet, I hope God will forgive me for turning into ‘Mr. Wilson’ yet again.

Peace,

Denis

Remember as a kid ‘choosing sides’ for playground or backyard games?  The two best athletes would be the ‘captains’ and each would take a turn choosing someone for their respective team.  For me this was always a painful experience because I had almost no athletic ability and little desire to improve.  Usually it came down to “We’ll take the girl with the broken leg if you’ll take Wilhelm” or something equally humiliating.  Sometimes if my best friend was the ‘captain’, I would get chosen maybe only second or third last (thanks Alan – we’re still friends after almost 50 years!).  Regardless, ‘choosing sides’ was NEVER a happy occasion for me.

I sometimes feel that I’m still being picked for a team (or not picked – as the case may be).  I am not a person that hides his feelings well.  I suffer no fools.  When I am unhappy with someone it is usually pretty well known by everyone within a ten mile radius.  I consider myself to be a progressive and can be outspoken about politics, religion, the environment and human rights.  I am often at odds with many of my conservative neighbors, friends and family members.  (And I think some ‘Tea Party” people might live next door).  The result – PEOPLE DON’T ALWAYS WANT ME ON THEIR TEAM!

And in life we’re constantly ‘choosing sides’ it seems. At work.  At home.  At church.  I feel that I’m relentlessly being asked to “be with me or against me!” by someone – if I don’t agree with EVERYTHING that they believe in, advocate for, purchase or admire, then I must be against EVERYTHING that they believe in, etc., etc.  Can’t I be “for them” about some stuff and “against them” about a lot of other stuff and still be a friend?  I don’t always agree with myself about EVERYTHING – it’s called changing my mind. 

I like to think that I’m open-minded (but not so open-minded that my brains will fall out) and I like to find common ground wherever possible.  There are some absolutes in my life but a lot of my beliefs are pretty fluid and I don’t think that’s a bad thing.  Life is about change and my opinions are shaped by my experiences both good and bad. This is why I journal – so that along my journey I can stop and look back at what I once thought (or thought that I once thought) in the past.

In his book ”Through Seasons of the Heart” John Powell writes,  “There’s an old Christian tradition that God sends each person into this world with a special message to deliver, a special song to sing for others, a special act of love to bestow.”

So the next time I’m asked to ‘choose sides’ or the next time that I’m ostracized for not accepting THE TRUTH, I’ll try to remember that it doesn’t really matter.  No one else can tell my story.  What I have learned is that God has made each of us uniquely qualified to share our good news with the world.  Each of us has an obligation to tell our own story of faith. 

Tell your story.  Sing your song.  Be Christ to others.  Share the love that God has for you.  That’s the side I choose to be on. 

Peace,

Denis

Some days (and too many days) I feel that everyone I deal with has taken complete leave of their senses.  I have a friend who says “you can’t fix stupid” and today I would have agreed with him.  Here’s a run-down:

• On my drive into the office today a fellow commuter (I had another name for him earlier) decided to change lanes – three lanes without using a signal and nearly causing an accident.  I suppose his cell phone call was occupying his only available brain capacity.
• A new employee was informed by Human Resources to report to work on Tuesday June 2^nd.  He showed up today because it is Tuesday but it’s June 1^st.  Way to go HR and new guy! 
•  My Receiving Manager created mass hysteria (I received calls from no fewer than four people) because some reports were “taking 3 to 4 minutes to print” and “we have over 200 to run”.  Upon further investigation it turns out that the report takes 35 seconds to print and they are not needed until next Tuesday.  In addition, someone else can print them in a fraction of the time at another terminal.
• I have been asked six times by three different people about my availability for a conference call on Friday – I AM NOT AVAILABLE ON FRIDAY.  Please tell the others!
• And my personal favorite – someone called me at my desk (direct dial) and asked me if I was in the office today – REALLY???

So feeling superior to all whom I had encountered I decided to close my office door.  And there I sat in my superiority and self-righteousness.  But because I am such a nice person I was able to feel true pity for those lesser souls.  None the less agitated, I decided to try to remember that not everyone is of equal intelligence.

And then it happened – I discovered that I had made a serious error on a sales report!  Trying to clear my head I went to get a cup of coffee only to pour most of a carafe down the front of my pants and all over the floor of the office kitchen.  Thankfully nobody saw it, although I began wondering to myself “who’s stupid now?”

God has a funny way of reminding me that I am not as important as my resume might read.  Because just about the time I have had my fill of numb-skulls and nit-wits is when I realize that I am one, too. 

So please take it easy on us dumb-dumbs.  Sometimes we’re just doing the best we can.

Peace,

Denis

Have a nice day!

How often have you heard that?  Delivered by a telephone solicitor or cashier, it often sounds perfunctory and vapid.  My response is typically a weak “you too”, delivered with the same amount of enthusiasm I usually reserve for flossing my teeth.

The other day while driving to work someone laid on their horn and gave me the finger for slowing down.  What they weren’t aware of was that I was trying to avoid hitting some trash in the road.  So while I loudly questioned the offender’s parentage as I was sticking my head out of my window and shouting, I realized that I was now the offensive driver.

Recently returning home from vacation, we stopped for a quick meal at Whataburger® in Clanton, Alabama.  When I ordered my meal, the young lady at the counter asked me if I wanted to “Whata-Size”® it.  It seemed liked a good idea so I agreed.  When I received my soda cup it was reminiscent of a 55 gallon drum and of course being in vacation mode, I felt the need to joke “wow Whata cup!”  No laughter. Not even a smirk.  I could have been standing there with my hair on fire and likely not gotten her attention.  But we were ON VACATION and everything was funny and fun.  At least to me.

So what does all this mean?  You have to be there.  You have to be ‘in the moment’.  I have a friend that I haven’t seen in years and if I called her today and said “DUCK!” she would likely double over in laughter.  There was a moment 20 years ago that that was funny – you had to be there.

 How often do we encounter people and find their mood or reaction to us indifferent or offensive?  How often do we mechanically respond with “you too” when someone wishes us a good day?  My wife who is much wiser and more empathetic reminds me that we can’t know what another person might be carrying in his or her heart.  Our job as Christians is to be Christ to one another. 

This is my daily struggle.  So I trudge along in life trying to remember that the rude store clerk might have just found out that she has cancer.  Perhaps the overly exuberant telephone marketer may have just fallen in love.  It’s possible that the dim-witted kid at the 7-Eleven might be flunking his mid-terms.  That the angry old man… (Oh wait, that one’s me.)

The point that I am trying to make is that we need to realize that we are all affected by our circumstances.  Your good day might be might my worst day.  And my ‘good news’ may arrive on a day that you’re barely hanging on. 

So the next time someone says, “you’d have to be there” – try to “be there”.  LISTEN.  TAKE TIME.  AND BE CHRIST to another person for just a moment.  I promise it will change your life.

Peace,

Denis

And have a nice day!

Lately I’ve been pondering what it means to be Number Two.  The Second.  Second Place.  Second-rate.  The Silver Medal.  The Runner-up.  The one that comes after The First.  And what’s funny, to me, is that I’m a Vice President (at work anyway) and that means number two, too.  It’s close; but it’s not the top spot!

Recently our daughter found out that she’s pregnant with her second child.  The Second.  What big shoes this little zygote has to fill.  Anna (the soon to be big sister) is a tough act to follow.  What if Baby Number Two isn’t up to the task?  What if Baby Number Two is average – Yikes! Or only kind of cute – Oh my!  Or (God forbid) just settles for being second best – The shame!

But I reflect on my own children and I know that our Second Child was (and is) the greatest blessing to our family.  Here’s why:  She taught The First how to share.  She gave The First someone to guard and protect – and he’s still protecting us all today.  She is truly the center of our family.  She grounds us all and reminds us of the truly important stuff, like love and forgiveness.  She is a peacemaker and a diplomat.  And she gave The Third even more than The First.  She is his confidant; a comforter; a nurturer – all things The Third needed (and still needs).

So I’m celebrating the coming of her ‘Second’ secure in the knowledge that ‘The First’ will become a better person because of it.  And our family will be blessed again – for the Second Time. 

So try to find some time today to celebrate all the “Seconds” in your life:  The second chances, the second tries, the second dates, the second time around…  

And never forget that Jesus is the Second Person of the Trinity and He will come again a Second Time.

 Peace,

 Denis

Some of my entries are new and some are things that I have written a while ago.  Hopefully they are all still relevant.