Jesus and the Elves

And Joseph went up from Galilee to Bethlehem with Mary, his wife, who was expecting a child.  And she brought forth a son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them at the inn.  And the angel of the Lord spoke to the shepherds and said, “I bring you tidings of great joy.  Unto you is born a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” 

“There’s a problem with the angel,” said a Pharisee who happened to be strolling by.  “Angels are widely regarded as religious symbols, and you are on public property where such symbols are not allowed to land or even hover.  And I have to tell you, this whole thing looks very much like a Nativity scene – that’s no no too.”

 Joseph, eager to avoid confrontation, offered a suggestion, “What if I put a couple of reindeer over there near the ox and donkey?”

 “That would definitely help,” said the Pharisee, who knew as well as anyone that whenever a savior appeared, judges usually liked to be on the safe side and surround it with a deer or woodland creatures of some sort.  “Just to be safe, throw in a candy cane, a couple of elves and some snowmen, too.  No court can say no to that.”

 Mary asked, “What does my son’s birth have to do with snowmen?”

 “Snowpersons!” cried a young woman, changing the subject before it turned dangerously toward religion.  Off to the side of the crowd a Philistine was painting the Nativity scene.

 Mary complained that she and Joseph looked too tattered and worn in the picture.  “Artistic license,” he said.  “I’ve got to show the struggles of the poor and homeless in a greedy, uncaring society in winter.”

 “We’re neither poor nor homeless.  The inn was just full,” said Mary.

 “Whatever,” said the painter.

 Two women began to argue fiercely.  One said she objected to Jesus’ birth because it showed favoritism to motherhood.  The other laughed at the idea of a virgin birth but also said that if it encouraged non-traditional family types and single motherhood then she was all for them.

 “I’m not a single mother,” Mary started to say but she was cut off by a third woman who insisted that swaddling clothes are a form of child abuse since they restrict the natural movement of babies.  With the arrival of 10 child advocates, all trained to spot infant abuse and manger rash, Mary and Joseph were pushed to the edge of the crowd.  There they heard arguments break out over how many reindeer (or what mix of reindeer and other seasonal symbols) had to be installed to compensate for the unfortunate religious meaning of Jesus’ birth.

 And old man pushed his way up and knocked over two merchants who had been busy debating whether an elf is the same as a fairy and whether the elf/fairy should be shaking hands with Jesus in the crib or merely standing by jumping around like a sports mascot.

 “I’d hold off on the reindeer,” the old man said.  “The use of donkeys and oxen as backdrops for Nativity scenes carries the subliminal message of human dominance.”  He passed out two leaflets, one opposing manger births as an invasion of animal space and the other arguing that stables are ‘fenced environments’ where animals are imprisoned against their will. 

 He had no opinion about elves or candy canes.  Signs declaring “Free the Bethlehem 2” began appearing, referring to the obviously exploited donkey and ox.

 Someone said the halo on Jesus head was elitist.  Mary was past frustrated and asked sharply to an old woman “what about you?  Are you here to criticize the shepherds as prison guards for oppressed animals, or just to say that I should have given up the religion of my ancestors and joined some stupid new age group?”

 “None of the above,” said the woman.  “I just wanted to tell you that the Magi are here.”  Sure enough, the three wise men rode up.  The crowd gasped, “They’re all men! And they’re not culturally diverse!”

 “Balthasar here is black,” said one of the Magi.

 “Yes, but how many of you are gay or disabled?” someone shouted.  A committee was quickly formed and decided that an underprivileged lesbian Magi should be added to the group.

 A calm voice said, “Be of good cheer Mary, you have done well and your son will change the world.” 

 At last, a sane person, Mary thought.  She turned to see a radiant and confident female face.  The woman spoke again,

 “There is one thing though.  Religious holidays are important, but can’t we just learn to celebrate them in ways that unite, not divide?  For instance, instead of all this business about ‘Gloria in excelsis Deo’ why not just say ‘Season’s greetings?”

 Mary said, “You mean my son has entered human history to deliver the message, ‘Hello, its winter?’”

 “That’s harsh Mary” said the woman.  “Remember, your son could make it big at the midwinter festivals, if he doesn’t push the religion thing too far.  Centuries form now, in nations yet unborn, people will give each other overpriced gifts and have big office parties to celebrate his birth.  I would think that would be something you would be proud of.”

 “Let me get back to you” Mary said and walked away.

The world according to Jim

August 7 was a great day. Surrounded by family and friends Dawson and Delanie took on Christ as their Lord and Savior. A great day indeed.

They had both been talking about this for several months and we settled on August 7. We were just home from Legacy's kids camp and a weeklong mission trip to Cross and Crown in Oklahoma City. Plus we were waiting on Nanny (grandmother) to get home from a trip to England. Finally, it was the Stanglin's last Sunday at Legacy. The kids wanted Allan to be a part of this.

In one of his final acts as a minister at Legacy, Allan spent almost an hour with the kids in his office before worship began. He looked them in the eye and told them he loved them, that he was proud of them and that God loved them and was proud of them too. He told them to never look back and wonder if they had been ready or if they had been too young. He assured them that God was doing all the work - his plan and the blood of his son was saving them that day. All they had to do was come to this decision. God was handling the rest.

It was glorious and the souls of two Byrnes kids were saved - along with two other Legacy kids.

Fast forward 6 days.

We'd said our last goodbye to the Stanglins. Another emotional, tearful goodbye. I didn't want them to go. I didn't like any of it. It was one of those situations where you're asking God why this was happening and quickly realizing the answers are not there. Not yet. His timing, his plan - not mine. It stinks.

To put it lightly I was in a funk. It was Saturday night and Shanna and the kids were leaving the next morning to spend a few days with her parents. The thought of church did not appeal at all. I just wasn't in the mood. I wanted to be alone. Honestly, I wanted to get up Sunday morning and go on a nice, quiet, head-clearing bike ride.

But Shanna was supposed to help teach. She was heading out of town so I got the nod.

I showed up Sunday morning and hit the kids hall to take Shanna's role as a 'Journeyman' which I completely messed up. However no children were harmed and I've been told I'm welcome to give it another shot.

I wandered, alone, toward worship service. At least I felt alone. The fog I was in prevents me from recalling any conversations I may have had - except one.

Jim Littlejohn is one of those guys who you catch a glimpse of every now and then. He's quiet and low profile but seems to always be serving. He's behind the scenes and is probably the type of servant God really appreciates. Because much of the time God is the only one who sees what he's doing.

This has been a tough year for Jim. He's spending a lot of time caring for his wife but every once in a while you still get that glimpse of him. And he's usually on his way to do something that needs to be done.

That morning he caught me at the entrance to the sanctuary. "Aren't kids and grandkids such a blessing? Isn't it great to be able to watch them grow up? I wanted to let you know how blessed I was to be a part of your kids baptisms last week."

Huh?

Jim, unintentionally, had delivered me a spiritual smackdown. A well deserved one at that.

He was blessed? This man who had been through so much uncertainty was blessed? Well, yes. Of course he was. I was too. Everyone who was there had been. Even the angels in heaven rejoiced. Had I forgot?

I won't again. As it turns out, Jim came to me to tell me he had been blessed. Little did he know that what he actually did was bless me.

What a day.

8/22 : Not your usual day.

Today I served as a pallbearer which is by no means an ordinary occurrence for me. Actually I think today was the third time but I'll admit it's not one of those things you tend to keep an accurate record of. What today's experience did was put me in an interesting situation - at least it was to me.

Now I don't want this to stir any debate or discussion because I think it could - no, I'm sure it could. I've given it some pretty heavy thought and come to the conclusion that there's not a right or wrong. Actually there's likely just rights.

For several years now I have not taken part in the 'procession' that makes it's way by the open casket at a funeral. I don't go into 'the room' during funeral visitations. The term 'viewing' seems odd to me.

But I'm obviously in the minority - at least from what I've seen at quite a few funerals now. As the pew spills out into the aisle and heads toward the front I head for the back. So far I have not had a nice funeral man grab me and point me in the 'right' direction. I also have not had anyone jump out of line with me.

And that's fine. I get it. The whole 'one last look' or 'closure' thing is understandable but it's just not for me. I have a very vivid memory of the last 'viewing' I attended and that memory is forever burned in my mind. Despite the fact I have plenty of other memories of that life that was cut very short I'm constantly taken back to the vision of a lifeless body laying in a lifeless box. And I don't like it - not at all.

That was my interesting situation for today. As a pallbearer I was led to the front row of the church prior to the entrance of the family. Avoiding that one was pretty easy.

The hard part was during the 'procession.' I couldn't bow out and head upstream like I normally would. I was a pallbearer - I had to maintain formation. But I also wanted to maintain my principle. It's important to me. I'll be perfectly honest and say that avoiding the logistics of the unpleasant view was much easier than fighting the urge to take that glimpse.

I don't know what it is. There was something pulling at me to take that look. Some sort of morbid curiosity. Fortunately I was able to resist and the pleasant memory of that wonderful man remains intact - exactly as I think it should.

I'm glad it's intact. That wasn't my friend in there. It was a tired, used shell. He was gone - he had been made new. He actually looks much better than he does in my memory. Praise be to God.

8/22 : First day of school. Facebook led me to believe it was the first day of school pretty much everywhere in the civilized world. For us it meant 4 kids on three different campuses. Seems like we were dropping off kids for and hour and a half. Wait, we were.

8/22 : Dad died 11 years ago today and he is still missed greatly. But like my friend today he's been made new. Praise be to God.

8/22 : This is the day I became 'great' uncle David. Little Hadleigh turned three today. She's the daughter of my niece Corlie and nephew in law, if there is such a thing, Heath. I don't see her nearly as much as I'd like but I still take a certain amount of pride in that title.

Like I said, what a day.

5 Stones

I guess you could call it an addiction but I think that would be a little harsh. Whatever the label I will admit that long road trips prompt me to pick up a book or two on CD. It seems to help pass the time. Give it a try next time you're heading to west Texas or the panhandle and tell me I'm wrong.

I had a one day trip last week - Houston and back. Per my criteria this trip qualifies as 'book-worthy.' Normally Cracker Barrel is my source but this time I opted for the library as I was making a stop there anyway.

The book was good and it served it's purpose. But when I went to return it I thought I'd see what else was available as these Houston runs are going to be pretty regular. There on the shelf I saw Max Lucado's "Facing Your Giants" and picked it up. I started it this morning on the way to the office which is a break from the usual routine and could indeed indicate the beginning of an addiction.

The story of David and Goliath, duh. I guess I could have made that connection. I'm only three chapters in - much of which is a recap of that famous battle. Early on it actually begins with David kneeling at the stream and picking up five stones.

Wait, five?

Of course I knew it was five. But why five? I think I was always so excited about the eventual downfall of the giant that I never gave any thought to the number of stones the recently annointed king picked up. He went out and faced Goliath "in the name of the LORD almighty" and one did the trick just fine.

So why five? I've read it's because he wanted to make sure he hit him which I will quickly dismiss. God killed Goliath, not David, so let's assume that after creating the universe in 6 days it would only take him one try to hit a nine foot tall man with a head the size of a watermelon.

Goliath had four brothers? Maybe. There may be retaliation from other Philistines? Perhaps. David was an avid rock collector? Doubtful.

I don't know. And I think this is one of many instances that is left to our speculation. Realistically in the terms of David vs. Goliath it doesn't matter, it's not the main point.

But should I take something from this seemingly small detail? Lucado has not given me his opinion of this, at least not yet. He seems more focused on us facing our giants, our Goliaths, just as David did. Charge at them confidently with your faith in God, not the sling or the stone.

Maybe the point is preparation. I'm David. Yes, literally I am David. But in a spiritual sense I'm David - a young shepherd facing a giant. Or more correctly in my case - giants. A whole army of God-mocking giants being sent my way to discourage me, derail me, destroy me.

Why five? I need five. Honestly I probably need five a day. Certainly there's been days I've needed five before lunch. Because for every giant that falls there's more coming. And they'll continue to come until Jesus returns and makes things right.

In confidence I will continually kneel at the stream to gather more stones. As I kneel I know that God stands there behind me staring down the giants. With that knowledge I will confidently face them and allow God to strike them down.

He is after all, a much better shot than me.

Is it really greener?

Delanie's third grade teacher, who was previously Dillon and Dawson's third grade teacher, and who will likely be Dakota's third grade teacher lives about 60 miles from the metroplex. It's my understanding that he and his family live somewhat of a farm/ranch life. He's got some of the typical farm-type animals.

Like cows.

One day he looked out in the pasture and saw a cow sticking its head through the fence to eat the grass on the other side. You know exactly what I mean. You've used the phrase before or at very least you've heard it. If you've ever driven anywhere where there are cows you've probably seen it.

Certainly he'd seen if before but today he tried a little experiment.

The man took the cow and led it outside the pasture and to the other side of the fence. Actually led it to the exact place where it had been eating. He put the cow - head, legs, feet and all in the very spot that it was convinced was better than where it had been. The cow, realizing the good fortune, firmly planted its feet and began eating from what had to be the most delicious patch of grass in all of Texas.

Well, not exactly.

Instead, the cow firmly planted its feet at the base of the fence, stuck its head through, and began eating from the patch of grass inside the pasture. Eating from the very spot where it stood previously.

I guess the grass truly is greener on the other side - even if you haven't experienced the grass where you are.

How many times have I wondered what our church would be like if we were only more like 'that congregation' or 'the church I once visited?' It would have to be better because obviously they have a better grasp of worship or teaching or communion or fellowship or blah, blah, blah. Whatever.

Let me know if you attend a church where they've got it all figured out. Everything runs smoothly. Everyone gets along. Everyone always agrees. No feathers are ever ruffled. Rose petals spontaneously fall from the rafters because of all the love being passed between the brothers and sisters there.

I think we're all trying to do the best we can. The best we know how. At least I think that's what I'm called to do. And I can do it at church A just as easily and effectively as I can at church B. There's no need for me to peek through the blinds and wonder what it would be like to go to church over there where everything is done perfectly.

Because I can't honestly believe that place exists.

In Bible study a couple of months ago I remember we were talking about the differences between churches and denominations and about how much time and effort is spent debating (and sometimes arguing) and attempting to convince each other who is right.

(I do find it ironic how so often we will think other congregations have something figured out and that we should strive to be more like them. We go so far as to complain about the leadership or the staff or the programs of our church and yet we will defend to the bitter end that very same 'faulty' church if it's criticized by someone else.)

After that study I commented how funny it would be for all the different 'flavors' of Christianity to be standing before God fully confident they were the one group who actually got it all right. Only to have God wave his arm across the whole group and say "Congratulations, you were all approximately 60% correct."

To that Allan Stanglin proposed an alternate scenario. God waves his arm across the whole group and says "You were all approximately 10% correct. Fortunately grace and the blood of Christ will pick up the remaining 90%."

I'm convinced his prediction is more accurate. Maybe we can all go forward realizing none of us has it figured out. The grass is not greener at that church across the street or across town or across the country. We're all dealing with the same garbage that this world can throw at us.

But there is a place where the grass is greener. A place we all should long for - no matter where you attend. One day we'll all be led from this pasture to that place.

And we won't be sticking our heads back through the fence.

Catch me I'm falling - ok, not really.

"Therefore let us stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in the way of a brother or sister."

We covered this a few weeks ago in Bible study and it came up again today....

on Facebook.

Someone who is loved dearly by our family posted the verse. Usually when I come across scriptural posts I just hit 'Like' in response and hope that encourages the 'poster' to continue the practice. Considering the general hodge-podge of posts it's refreshing to come across a piece of encouragement now and then.

For some reason on this one I couldn't stop at Like. Something, likely some self serving motive or desire to vent drove me to actually post something.

I think there may be some unintentional misrepresentation going on here.

The first half of this passage says don't judge. That's it. It's clear, it's concise, it's straight to the point. It's simple, but certainly not always easy. (Note to self - possible future topic)

It's the second half that, in my humble and regularly erroneous opinion, that can pose a problem:

"Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in the way of a brother or sister."

Personally, I've never been accused of violating this - at least not to my face.

Now what I'm going to say may seem surprising but I have heard of situations where the point of this passage gets misrepresented. You could say it's used, or misused, in a way that could be considered self serving. Certainly I've never been guilty of this either.

Stumbling block. Grumbling block. Two very different things. Yet I think the latter sometimes gets confused with the former.

Hypothetically.....

You do something that causes me to doubt my faith, to veer off the path, to fall. That's a stumbling block.

You do something based on scripture that is designed to promote spiritual growth. It's new, it's different, it's not our tradition. I don't like it. But rather than give it a chance, rather than dive into the Word, I go for the game ending trump and throw out Romans 14:13 in an effort to keep things the way I want them. That's a grumbling block.

I'm not stumbling - I'm grumbling.

Instead, I should focus on what comes just a few verses later in Romans 14:19:

"Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification."

So I need to quit grumbling. I need to put the interests of others ahead of my own. I need to think about the well being of the body rather than myself.

Thankfully it was just hypothetical.

Right?

Ummm....

I'm at a loss.

For the past three weeks I've been at a loss. I'm supposed to be following a curriculum for the 9th grade class and I just can't do it. They're not ready. Honestly, I question my own readiness. More importantly I question my ability to cover the subject. No I don't question, I doubt it entirely.

The Holy Spirit.

Note I said 'supposed to be following' because I didn't. I threw it out and went to the basics. See, the lesson should have covered how we act and respond to the Holy Spirit. There are two problems this. First, they're ninth graders. They tend to respond in one word answers - if they respond at all. I teased them a few months ago and said that when I throw out something for discussion don't think that the silence bothers me. I could sit there the entire time without a word being said. I've got four kids, silence doesn't bother me. I cherish it.

That was a lie. I've outlasted many classes when no one made an attempt to participate. Eventually someone will crack and blurt something out. But this time I knew as soon as the first question went out. They were perfectly content to sit there the entire hour and not say a word. I could see it on their faces.

And that leads us to the second problem. They just flat out don't know how the Holy Spirit impacts their life. I'm not sure they could have given a basic explanation of the Holy Spirit. And here I am, the person who is supposed to correct that and I couldn't feel more inadequate.

Do I know? Maybe I have an idea but I certainly would not be considered any sort of expert on the subject. I dare say anyone could be considered an expert but to be perfectly honest I cannot recall studying it at all when I was their age (or older for that matter).

So back to the basics we went. The Trinity, where we find it and what the purpose is. Over two weeks we probably spent the entire class going over a few scriptures and some examples. And I told them it's possible, even likely that brief overview put them ahead of half the church in knowledge about the Holy Spirit.

I don't know why it's this way but it seems like we've been focusing on two out of three. Are they easier to grasp? It's almost like we can't wrap our mind fully around God but we get the concept of father, creator.

We can't understand the sacrifice of Christ but we appreciate it. We understand the significance and the necessity.

Then we look over there at the Holy Spirit and it's as if we think we'll never get it so why bother.

Maybe I'm way off base here but I feel like I'm a product of that line of thinking. Hopefully I'm the last generation that learned so much about what we should (or actually should not) be doing and not so much about what we could be doing if we just tap into the resources provided. So I'll throw myself back in to a room of 9th graders and explain to them yet again that as far as this is concerned - the teacher is also the student.

But I guess we're all students for as long as we're here.

So this is what Jerry Lee meant...

He still thinks that he's the man
That he once used to be
Boy, you're just thirty-nine
And you're dreamin'
Acting twenty-three
("39 and Holding" - Jerry Lee Lewis)

Most likely it's true. I do think I'm the man I was at 23. The leading indicator that I am significantly older than 23 is typically my body. If for some reason sore muscles and joints don't do the trick Shanna is usually a reliable backup to remind me of this.

This week I turned 39 so to many I guess this is my last year 'under the hill.'

I however, vehemently disagree. True - I don't always act my age. Some would argue that I rarely act my age. Irrelevant.

My issue is with this whole concept of 'the hill.' Who came up with this so called 'hill?' I can't help but think this is yet another ploy by Hallmark to help generate sales. It falls right in there with St. Patrick's and April Fool's Day greeting cards.

I don't really have any friends who are coasting downhill. Quite the contrary. They continue to work, they continue to serve. They continue to live out 1 Corinthians 15:58:

Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know your labor for the Lord is not in vain. (NIV)

They're not coasting to retirement. They're not sliding toward the end of life. They're like John Bailey of Body and Soul Ministries who just came back from a trip to Cambodia where 92 were baptized. He's a little over 40 - like 30 plus years over 40.

My great Uncle Odell is another great example. Works and serves tirelessly at what will soon be 82.

The list goes on and on, literally. I could go on for days.

There's is no magical turning point - at least not in this life. There is no time where it all 'starts falling apart' or starts 'going downhill.' It's life at age 13 or 39 or 89. What you decide to do with it is what matters. Perhaps that's what really determines whether or not you feel 'over the hill.' Here's to staying on the hill. I've heard from those in the know that it will actually get steeper sometimes -even after 40. If you really think about it that sounds a lot like life now.

So I guess 40 really is just another number. We'll find out in about a year.

It's a new year...

and it feels like we've started it with a massive punch in the gut. Two funerals last week for what you would call pillars of the Legacy Church family. Richard Dutton and Bob Roberston transitioned from this world on 12/31 and 1/1 respectively and they will be missed. In my opinion they set the dad standard. They set the man standard. As I sat in each of their services and listened to their children speak of them I couldn't help but cry. How did they do all that? They served, they taught, they called, they visited, they played - often times when in pain. They did immeasurably more than I can imagine.

And it made me want to do better. It made me think of all the times that I had the chance to make a difference to someone and didn't.

It made me think of how just a week before I'd been on the phone with Richard's son. He said a visit would be ok but it needed to be brief. I rationalized it and said I'd stop by the next week after he'd had a chance to rest. That day never came - the next morning Richard was gone.

It made me think of how I could have stopped by and see Bob, but didn't.

It made me think of the times that I had something to do before I played that game or read that book. Then by the time that 'something' was done it was bedtime.

It made me realize that no, I can't drop everything everytime. But I can certainly make sure that what's important gets done first. Somehow everything I need to do seems to get done - even when life gets in the way.

I think it would be good for me to let life get in the way a little more often. More importantly, let someone else's life get in the way a little more often.

All six of Bob's kids went on and on about what a great father and servant and friend he was. Six kids. I just need to convince four.

That started last night with a game of farkle in the middle of the living room floor.

Overdue?

Yes, a post is overdue. Waaaay overdue. But before you criticize me too harshly I would like to remind you....



4 kids.



That's right - FOUR. So before I get any criticism about the amount of time between posts I'd just like to ask...



"How many kids between the ages of 5 and 14 are currently living under your roof?"



With the exception of one or two families from Legacy, I can think of no one who comes close. Yes there are those of you with three. Multiple your current level of commitment and lack of sleep by at least 25% and give me a call. I'd love nothing more than to be able to find the time to post more.



So, I'll try to post more if you'll read.

I.E. - It's 1am on Sunday morning - need I say more?



There has been a whole host of subjects that I could have written about here. I have to admit that facebook has become a predominant forum. But I know not everyone is a facebook junkie. Namely, at least two people who may occasionally check this blog for an update. So this is for you - as well as anyone else who happens across this blog while searching for David Byrne from the Talking Heads.



I just read a Yahoo headline - "Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr Irrelevant 2010!"



It talked about Tim Toone from Weber State - the 255th (and final) pick of this year's NFL draft. He's 5'10" and 185 pounds. His chances of making it in the NFL are probably not much greater than mine or Allan Stanglin's.



Ok - there's probably much greater chance than me or Staglin but basically no one considers him a legitimate NFL contender, other than his mom who is undoubtedly convinced that his contributions will help take a team to the Superbowl.



Odds are - he won't. My apologies to his mom. From the standpoint of the NFL he's irrelevant.



Really? Irrelevant? I think not.



I don't have what it takes to make it in the NFL. Stanglin doesn't either. Actually, no one that I know first hand will make it in the NFL. But does that make any of us irrelevant? Perhaps to ESPN or the world of professional sports but let's put at least a light tap on the brake.

There is at least one person who does not see me as irrelevant. Fortunately, for you, me, and everyone else it's the same person who created the universe.



That's right - the entire universe. Everything that we claim to have knowledge of and a whole host of things that we'll likely never know



E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G



You can't go any higher. You can't talk to any supervisor with higher rank. The all powerful, all knowing, all loving God of the universe sees us as his child.

Please, if necessary, tap the brakes again. Did you catch that?

"AS HIS CHILD."

Irrelevant is not a word that God would use to describe me. Irrelevant as not a word that God would use to describe you. He wouldn't use it to describe Tim Toone if he was the first pick in the NFL draft or the 255th. We are ALL his children and irrelevant is not part of his vocabulary.

We're all relevant to Him and we all have a very relevant eternity in his kingdom. Fortunately for us irrelevant will never be a word that the God of the universe uses to describe us.l

Jesus and the Elves

And Joseph went up from Galilee to Bethlehem with Mary, his espoused wife, who was great with child. And she brought forth a son and wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn. And the angel of the Lord spoke to the shepherds and said, "I bring you tidings of great joy. Unto you is born a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord."

"There's a problem with the angel," said a Pharisee who happened to be strolling by. As he explained to Joseph, angels are widely regarded as religious symbols, and the stable was on public property where such symbols were not allowed to land or even hover.

"And I have to tell you, this whole thing looks to me very much like a Nativity scene," he said sadly. "That's a no-no, too." Joseph had a bright idea. "What if I put a couple of reindeer over there near the ox and ass?" he said, eager to avoid sectarian strife.

"That would definitely help," said the Pharisee, who knew as well as anyone that whenever a saviour appeared, judges usually liked to be on the safe side and surround it with deer or woodland creatures of some sort. "Just to clinch it, throw in a candy cane and a couple of elves and snowmen, too," he said. "No court can resist that."

Mary asked, "What does my son's birth have to do with snowmen?"

"Snowpersons," cried a young woman, changing the subject before it veered dangerously toward religion. Off to the side of the crowd, a Philistine was painting the Nativity scene. Mary complained that she and Joseph looked too tattered and worn in the picture. "Artistic license," he said. "I've got to show the plight of the haggard homeless in a greedy, uncaring society in winter," he quipped.

"We're not haggard or homeless. The inn was just full," said Mary.

"Whatever," said the painter.

Two women began to argue fiercely. One said she objected to Jesus' birth "because it privileged motherhood." The other scoffed at virgin births, but said that if they encouraged more attention to diversity in family forms and the rights of single mothers, well, then, she was all for them.

"I'm not a single mother," Mary started to say, but she was cut off by a third woman who insisted that swaddling clothes are a form of child abuse, since they restrict the natural movement of babies.

With the arrival of 10 child advocates, all trained to spot infant abuse and manger rash, Mary and Joseph were pushed to the edge of the crowd, where arguments were breaking out over how many reindeer (or what mix of reindeer and seasonal sprites) had to be installed to compensate for the infant's unfortunate religious character.

An older man bustled up, bowling over two merchants, who had been busy debating whether an elf is the same as a fairy and whether the elf/fairy should be shaking hands with Jesus in the crib or merely standing to the side, jumping around like a sports mascot.

"I'd hold off on the reindeer," the man said, explaining that the use of asses and oxen as picturesque backdrops for Nativity scenes carries the subliminal message of human dominance. He passed out two leaflets, one denouncing manger births as invasions of animal space, the other arguing that stables are "penned environments" where animals are incarcerated against their will. He had no opinion about elves or candy canes.

Signs declaring "Free the Bethlehem 2" began to appear, referring to the obviously exploited ass and ox. Someone said the halo on Jesus' head was elitist. Mary was exasperated. "And what about you, old mother?" she said sharply to an elderly woman. "Are you here to attack the shepherds as prison guards for excluded species, maybe to complain that singing in Latin identifies us with our Roman oppressors, or just to say that I should have skipped patriarchal religiosity and joined some dumb new-age goddess religion?"

"None of the above," said the woman, "I just wanted to tell you that the Magi are here." Sure enough, the three wise men rode up. The crowd gasped, " They're all male!" And "Not very multi cultural!" "Balthasar here is black," said one of the Magi. "Yes, but how many of you are gay or disabled?" someone shouted. A committee was quickly formed to find an impoverished lesbian wise-person among the halt and lame of Bethlehem.

A calm voice said, "Be of good cheer, Mary, you have done well and your son will change the world." At last, a sane person, Mary thought. She turned to see a radiant and confident female face. The woman spoke again: "There is one thing, though. Religious holidays are important, but can't we learn to celebrate them in ways that unite, not divide? For instance, instead of all this business about 'Gloria in excelsis Deo,' why not just 'Season's Greetings'?"

Mary said, "You mean my son has entered human history to deliver the message, 'Hello, it's winter'?" "That's harsh, Mary," said the woman. "Remember, your son could make it big in midwinter festivals, if he doesn't push the religion thing too far. Centuries from now, in nations yet unborn, people will give each other pricey gifts and have big office parties on his birthday. That's not chopped liver."

"Let me get back to you," Mary said.

The Byrnes Days of Christmas

Dennis Tom was asked to be in charge of 'entertainment' at the Legacy ladies Christmas party. Apparently there is an assumption that since Shanna sings with a group from church and sings in a band that there is automatically a longing to perform running throughout our family. That must be what Dennis thought since he sent me an email asking if our family would like to be on the line up.

There isn't. At least not with me. I put off Dennis for a while and justified it by telling myself that I had been busy and hadn't had the opportunity to ask Shanna. Truth is I knew she'd be all over it and I was less than thrilled. Perhaps if I waited long enough he'd tell me that he already had it covered. I waited (naturally Shanna thought it would be neat) and Dennis still had room on the roster. So much for my plan.

But when it was all over I had to admit it was fun and I think it turned out pretty well. It is posted on Facebook but here's another showing just in case you weren't able to catch it there:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1g2j1TcQcM

Seems like it was a hit. We've gotten some requests for additional performances.

Not Lazy

Ok, May 25th was the last post. I realize that's ridiculous. Here's a quick summary of what's happened since:
Trip to Horseshoe Bay with the Crawfords
Mission trip with Dillon to San Antonio
4th of July in Arkansas with Art, Nanny and the Garrisons
Camp with Dillon AND Dawson (his first year!)
15th Anniversary (why has she stayed with me for 15 years?)

There's a lot more - I mean it was summer. We used to long for summer to start because we were under some spell that made us think summer was easier than the school year. This summer definitely let us know that is not the case. Shan and I were longing for school to start so we could get our lives back to some degree of normal. (This is where you say 'You've got 4 kids - how do you know what normal is?) But really, it seemed like there was hardly a moment to take a breath during the summer. Now perhaps we all understand why the last post was made during the last week of school.

But to be completely honest, I think Shanna was looking forward to school starting. (After the summer we had I know I was). But that meant she was that much closer to her cruise. It also meant she was that much closer to a pretty significant birthday but in the end I think she was more excited about the cruise than she was depressed about the birthday.

That's right - for this 'milestone' birthday she went on a cruise. It was her first cruise and she was fortunate enough to be able to share that experience with three of her dear friends - Cindy, Kristi and Su.

I've seen the pictures and heard the stories. There's no doubt in my mind they had a great time and it was well deserved.

In the meantime I was perfecting my 'ponytail' technique. It's the only hairstyle I know how to do for Delanie and it got a workout while Shanna was gone. Looking back, we had three days to get ready for school without mom and I think we did pretty good. As far as I know all the homework was done, everyone was in acceptable clothing, and no meals were missed. Get this - I even ran a full load of laundry and dishes every night. Not too bad for a clueless dad.

Like I said, this is only a glimpse of what has happened in the past, almost four, months. But I did want to get something on here. To the best of my knowledge, the one and only Aunt Pat may check this from time to time and she certainly deserves some new material. But there is a chance that we may have a new reader. The 'great' uncle Odell is now surfing the web - email and all. That's the same Odell who is mentioned at length in one of the first posts on this blog. Scroll back and check it out if you get a chance. To say he's one of a kind would be an understatement. Odell, I hope you find this post and the one about you riding out the hurricane. It's somewhat amusing now because you've promised us you'll never do it again.

Like I said, Facebook has become more of our venue for connecting. Check it out if you get a chance: http://www.facebook.com/. You'll have to register and request friends and all that garbage but it is pretty neat.

But I do have a tremendous sense of guilt for neglecting this for so long. I'll try to do better but make no promises.

Love to all from Texas and welcome Odell to the world wide web.

Dakota the fish

This is pretty cool. Dakota took what was basically 4 days of swim lessons last week (Friday was 'performance' day). So in 4 days he went from a 'water wing' swimmer to what you'll see here:

And here:

And here:

Update

Tax season is over.

A very good CPA friend of mine asked if I'd be interested in helping them out during their crunch time. I agreed. You ask why and I don't have a very good answer other than that he's a friend, 4 kids keep cash in short supply and I have some sort of sickness that actually makes me enjoy doing tax returns.

See I was going to be a CPA. I actually worked for this friend and his father for a few years. The thing I couldn't stand was tax season. 80 hour weeks for two and a half months just wasn't my thing. This experience was a good reminder that made me thankful for my current occupation. Although the markets of 2008 did make me long for an endless supply of 1040s. Thankfully that appears to be over.

Dillon is doing fine. Some of you know of the spill he took while skiing over spring break. (Break being the key word). The doctor says his growth plate may be fractured but it shouldn't be a concern. The hard cast was off within two weeks and now he just wears a brace on his wrist. Funny, he never missed a lick on Xbox - even with the hard cast. Fortunately no scientists have tried to make any connection between this and evolution.

We had a great Easter. Family get together in Waxahachie complete with Easter egg hunt. Followed on Sunday by a great morning at church and indoor egg hunt at Vic and Kathryn's. A little rain wasn't going to keep our kids from yet another supply of sugar.

Everyone else is doing great. Our little Oreo has managed to grow to six pounds. I have to admit that even though he's only the size of a stuffed animal he's pretty cool.

Now I'm back to one job and dinners at home and American Idol live instead of off the DVR. Ok, ok, I'm a fan.

Economic Stimulus Package

I'm now referring at least one portion of Obama's massive plan as the Economic Stimulus Paradox. I'm sure as more details emerge I'll be able to place additional items under this heading.

Obviously no one thinks that economic salvation will come without a cost. The government is not sitting on almost a trillion dollars just wondering what to do with it. Someone has to pay for this. The terms 'children' and 'grandchildren' come up often as the likely ones to pick up the tab.

The stimulus package calls for those who are involuntarily laid off to receive help to pay for their health insurance premiums. Ok, sounds good. Let's make sure that the millions who have been laid off during this mess don't lose their health coverage and further compound their financial problems.

If you worked for a large employer and lost your job due to downsizing, restructuring, etc. then you are able to continue your health coverage through a provision known as COBRA. The coverage remains the same and you now pay the premium yourself without any subsidy from your company. It allows you to remain insured while you look for another job. Once a new position is found you drop the COBRA coverage and enroll with your new company's plan.

For smaller companies, at least in Texas, you're not subject to the COBRA rules but you do have to offer a similar option according to state continuation rules.

Without getting too bogged down in the details here's it all in a nutshell - lose your job but keep your insurance. Again, I'm all for it.

Until the stimulus package came along. It calls for the terminated employee to only be liable for 35% of the premium. In soundbite form this sounds great and I'm sure contributed to someone's job approval ratings. But you discover the paradox in the details.

Case in point. We have a client who owns a small business (less than 25 employees). They offer a health plan and pay 50% of the employee's premium. As with many small businesses they have seen things slow significantly. As a cost cutting measure they let some employees go. One of them was enrolled in the health plan and desires to continue coverage according to the state continuation rules.

Two months ago this was easy. Employee leaves, employee signs paperwork indicating the desire to continue coverage, employee sends the full premium payment to the employer each month.

Now thanks to the government's plan to save the economy it gets complicated and confusing. Employee leaves, employee signs paperwork indicating the desire to continue coverage, employee only has to send in 35% of the monthly premium.

That leaves 65% to be paid. So who pays it?

Well this is where it gets complicated and confusing. The employer has to pay the additional 65% initially. Remember that these companies are usually in cost-cutting mode. We've just offset the amount saved in salary by the amount being paid in premiums. But for argument's sake let's assume this amount is not material.

They actually will get this money back - it will just take a couple of months. Whatever they pay out in health insurance 'subsidies' can be counted as a credit against their payroll tax filings.

That's the paradox.

We've just paid for health insurance premiums using social security and medicare taxes.

So apparantly the solution is to use programs that are already grossly underfunded to help pay for the stimulus. Yes, kids and grandkids need to watch out.

And remember in this case, while working the employee was paying 50% of their premiums. Now they only pay 35%.

It would actually be funny if it wasn't SO absurd.

Economic stimulus? Hopefully somewhere but not in this case. In this instance the phrase "Robbing Peter to pay Paul" comes to mind.

Back in the saddle

I've used the catastrophes from January as an excuse for far too long now. So thanks to a nudge from Allan yesterday during lunch I'm going to get back in the habit of posting something here on more of a regular basis.

First, things are back to normal at the Byrnes house (insert your own comment about our version of normal here). Everyone is back in their designated sleeping area. New carpet and floor has been installed. And thanks to our very good friend Gary Roberts we also managed to get a very nice makeover of our master bathroom. Thanks Gary - we couldn't have done it without you.

We've also added a new addition. Shanna brought home a Bichon/Poodle mix the day before Valentine's as a gift for the kids. He's mostly white with black ears and some black markings on his head. Dakota immediately commented that he looked like an Oreo and it stuck. Oreo.

Ironically he weighs about the same as a package of Oreos. Typically about twice a day we have to go looking under beds and the back of closets to find him. Quite an adjustment for someone who grew up never having a dog that you had to bend over to pet.

Due to all of the unfortunate events of January we have officially decided to cut the entire month from the 2009 calendar. We have deemed February 1 as New Year's Day. So I guess I'm still 36. Now that's a silver lining.

Day 2 continued

We got home from the vet and everyone was in a zombie-like state. I can't remember what dinner was but it was nutrionally lacking I'm sure. Cereal or something.

Delanie didn't want anything. Her stomach was hurting. I chalked it up to the emotional trauma she had just experienced. We just sat on the couch mindlessly watching SpongeBob. At least there was something normal going on.

Dawson was very upset. He was on our bed face down as Shanna made a few calls to share the news. He definitely took it the hardest. He finally sacked out on his temporary bed (the futon) clinging to Casey's collar.

Delanie managed to pick at some cereal and then we made her bed on the couch. Soon after she was throwing up. I wish it had been nerves but it wasn't. She had the stomach bug. We got her back on the couch with the trashcan beside her. Once she was settled I got into bed and knew nothing else. Fortunately Shanna was there because Delanie ended being up most of the night. Not much sleep for the girls.

With Delanie's first episode Shanna and I looked at each other and no words were necessary. It was perfect non verbal communication.

"What else....?"

Day 2 - 2009 continues its downward spiral

Monday morning we wake to the hum of fans and dehumidifiers running in the back of the house. Delanie is sleeping on the couch, Dillon and Dawson are on the futon in the gameroom and as usual, Dakota is in the middle of Shanna and me. He started the night on the other couch. It doesn't matter where he starts. He'll wake up sometime during the night and make his way to our room. Hey, at least he makes it there on his own.

I was unable to coax our dog Casey into the house Sunday night with grilled chicken. That was unusual. But there a lot of commotion in the house and she really isn't all there anymore. Almost 15 in dog years can take it toll. Can't see much, can't hear much, can't really do much. I assumed the serene setting of the backyard was preferable to the chaos that had been inside. So I picked her up - all 85 pounds, and hauled her in.

For the most part, Monday went as expected. I stayed around the house for a couple hours and continued rearranging toys, furniture and the like. I made it out to the office around 11 and had a pretty normal afternoon.

At a few minutes after 5 the phone rang. It was Shanna and there was something wrong with Casey. She had fallen a couple of times. I could tell from Shanna's voice that this was different than the falls she would take while trying to navigate the wood floors. Something was very wrong.

The vet is near my office - almost 45 minutes from the house. Our dear friend from church, Cynthia, works there and has always been a tremendous help with Casey so I've never minded the distance. Shanna called and they said they would wait for us to get there.

I met Shanna and the three older kids at the vet's office. Fortunately mom had Dakota. He wouldn't have understood what was going on and why everyone was crying. We took Casey in and spoke at length with Cynthia and the vet. As always, they were wonderful. They were willing to do whatever we wanted. After lots of discussion and lots of tears it was finally decided that her quality of life was not going to improve and we should put her down. Shanna and the kids said their goodbyes and left. I stayed behind for a few minutes to handle the details.

It's hard to believe she lived as long as she did. Keep in mind she made it through four kids. They all pulled her tail and ears and tried to ride her like a horse. They all came running through the house laughing and screaming and interrupted her nap. She took it all in stride. Not one time did she ever snap or growl or show the slightest discontent.

She was a great dog and a great companion to us all and she will be missed.

How many days until 2010?

I've been off the blog for a while - I know. It seems like I've been chasing my tail for the past few months. The time off during the holidays was greatly anticipated and appreciated. It was good to spend time with family and unwind for a few days.

I even took the day AFTER New Year's which was hard. Three and a half days off Christmas week and the office was calling. But I fought off the urge to just 'drop in for a couple of hours' and stayed home January 2 as well. It was a true Four Day Weekend and quite honestly there was very little accomplished which was also refreshing.

Then Sunday night came. Dakota was sick Sunday so Shanna and I swapped going to church. She stayed home Sunday morning and I stayed home Sunday night. He and I were catching some quality 'Sponge Bob' time on the couch. I figured I'd throw some laundry in so I could say I did something during my four days off. Later on I headed back to throw the clothes in the dryer and hmm, that's strange, the washer is still running. It shouldn't be running. And there shouldn't be water standing in the hallway....and Dillon's room...and Dawson & Dakota's closet.

That's right, something deep inside the machine gave way and water was pouring out from the bottom. Panic set in, call mom, call Shanna, tell them to get here ASAP.

Our good friend, Tony Burnett, was over in minutes with his shop vac and we moved furniture, sucked up water and threw stuff out the window. Then the pros finally arrived about 10:30 to put on the finishing touches and set out their fans and dryers. By that time I had been at the laundromat for over an hour re-washing the clean clothes that had been in Dillon's floor as well as everything else that could no longer be washed in the broken machine. 7 commercial loads of clothes, towels and the comforters that were inconveniently stored under Dillon's bed. 3 and a half hours in the laundromat and $30 bucks worth of quarters.

That was Day 1 of the countdown to 2010.