Monday, August 17, 2009

Godspeed Little Man, Sweet Dreams Little Man



ORIGINALLY WRITTEN October 2008, this post has been re-posted in honor of Roo-boy's 5th Birthday. Happy Birthday buddy! Daddy loves you!


"Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from Him." Psalm 127:3

I love the song “Godspeed” from the Dixie Chicks. Despite my personal frustrations with the political flatulence of the Dixie Chicks (shut up and sing, already) I can’t help but love their sound and enjoy much of their music. And as a father of two sons, I’m particularly fond of their song “Godspeed.” (If you haven't heard the song you can listen to it via my playlist on this page or watch it here

Recently I came home late after everyone was already in bed and found my four year old son asleep on the couch. At first I thought it was my eight year old daughter, the form on the couch was too big to be that of my pre-school son. As I peered closer through the darkness I realized it was indeed my oldest boy, seeming to grow right before my very eyes. I pulled the blanket in tight around him and snuggled close, gently caressing his head. I know that soon will come the time when displays of affection might make him feel awkward and even forced, and I dread the moment when the stillness of his sleep will be the only time he might allow me to love him.

Why is it that in one moment we wish them older and more mature than they are, yet in another we are holding them tight hoping to stop time and keep them from growing? For now at least its times like this when all seems right and wonderful in the world and I can’t help but pray for his protection and wonder at God’s plan for his life. “Godspeed, little man. Sweet dreams little man.”

Sunday, May 3, 2009

A Time to Mourn

CATHERINE ELIZABETH PRATT RUSSELL


"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven...a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn..." Ecclesiastes 3:1,4

My dad called me on Thursday afternoon. I was swamped and couldn't answer. I called back. His voice was a little shaky, "Your Grandma died just a little bit ago."

As a cop I've learned to cope with the horridness of life by shoving emotions to the deep recesses of my mind. This weekend has been no different. The busiest time of the year for the police. It's Derby in Louisville...no time to pause...no time to stop to ponder what is reality...so much to do...information to gather...tv shows to prep for...information to release...people to meet...people to greet...a job to do. Friends offer condolence. I politely say “thank you.”

Finally this morning I have time to pause.

Head buried deep in my hands. I finally weep.

While the hope of heaven grants me peace, the Bible says "there is a time to mourn."

And in the quietness of a Sunday morning, I mourn.

I love you Grandma and am so thankful for your life example. Will the world ever comprehend your legacy?

As I release the hurt with the flow of tears I cannot help but merge them with tears of joy, giving thanks that the dementia no longer has control. That your mind is now right. That you recognize your loved ones once again. And that the first face you immediately recognized, the first face you reached out to touch - was the face of Jesus Christ.