No Coincidences

Tag: children

  • Spanking

    Spanking

    This last weekend Beth went out of town so it was Daddy weekend with my girls. We had an awesome weekend. We had Daddy Dinners which included meals Dad loves but Mom doesn’t (there’s a whole lotta chili involved). We spent a whole day at the pool. We went to a Notre Dame High School barbeque with food, snacks, and activities. We went to the grocery store TWO times. We had a movie night in Dad’s bed with the projector. It was a great weekend.

    Ivy has had some behavior challenges of late. Those challenges continued over the weekend.

    On Sunday, the last day before Mom was coming home, we went to church. Ivy did not do a good job and we had to leave before the first meeting was over.

    I was so frustrated. I loaded all three girls in the car and turned on the AC. I had to go back into church and clean up the mess we always leave behind, while the church meeting continued around me, load it up, and take the girls home.

    When we got home I put Wren down for her nap, setup Sage on the couch to watch a show, and took Ivy to her room.

    Despite the awesome weekend, Ivy’s misbehaviors loomed large. The most challenging thing as a parent is when your child is awesome 95% of the time and then does really, really bad things the other 5%. Because of the 95% you know she’s so capable.

    I won’t go into detail on the behavior but lest you think me a harsh, mean Dad, I’ll just say the behavior was unacceptable and important to be corrected. I’ll leave it at that.

    After Ivy was in her room I stood over her fuming. I was so frustrated. I took deep breaths to calm myself. I told Ivy I had to spank her.

    We don’t spank. It has happened maybe twice in our family and I don’t like it. But enough was enough. Ivy had to learn some things were unacceptable. I didn’t know how else to bring that lesson home.

    She freaked out a little when I said I had to spank her. As she was doing that, I closed my eyes and prayed.

    She asked what I was doing.

    I told her I was praying asking Heavenly Father what I should do. I was asking for help on how to deal with my daughter with love. How to show her I loved her but that her behavior had to be better. I desperately didn’t want to spank her. But I didn’t know what to do.

    Ivy loves pretending to be characters. It’s a fun thing about her. I love it. I love her creativity and her mind. All day every day she’ll pretend to be Dash from the Incredibles, the red head girl from the movie Leap, Alfalfa from Little Rascals, Justin Bieber when she’s singing, Ghost Spider, Huckleberry Finn, Snow White. You name it. If it’s a fictional character (or sometimes not fictional, see Justin Bieber), Ivy has pretended to be them.

    Back in Ivy’s room, considering spanking, not wanting to, praying for help, I don’t even remember thinking it. The next part just happened. I told her no more characters until she could improve on the things she wasn’t improving on. I told her I was not participating in her fun ritual of being different characters throughout the day until she could fix her behavior.

    Ivy reacted way worse at this than if I had actually spanked her. You’d have thought I told her the world was ending. She was beside herself. Distraught. She begged me to let her be a character. I told her not until she improved and I left her in her room for nap time.

    I did not spank her.

    When Ivy woke up she immediately asked if she could be a character and I said no. I told her she could be a character after three days of making good decisions.

    That was two days ago as I’m writing this and Ivy’s behavior has improved 100-fold. Zero issues. Zero problems. Every day she has asked when she could be a character again. I’ve told her the day it can happen if she keeps doing a good job. She has accepted this.

    Now it’s Tuesday night and I’m writing this. She is very excited to be Justin Bieber tomorrow.

    I reminded her that if her actions revert back it will be another 3 days of no characters. I don’t think it will come to that. This has been a brutal 3 days for her.

    This is your reminder that prayer is real, and prayer is powerful.

    I was praying for help and I received it. I say again, I didn’t even realize what I was doing. It just came out of my mouth. “Ivy no more characters until you start to behave better.”

    I didn’t want to resort to spanking, but I thought I was out of options. I didn’t know what to do. With God, and prayer, there is always something else you can do.

    God answered my prayer that day and I’m so grateful for that. I know Ivy and Sage and Wren will have other challenges. They’ll never be perfect and I don’t want them to be. I hope they’ll accept that I’m extremely, very much, far from a perfect dad.

    But as their behavior is challenging and I think I’ve run out of options, I hope I can remember to pray.

    The Father of me, you, and the universe answers. In this life I’ll never be a perfect Father. But they still have a perfect Father.

    And He loves His children.

  • Who Will You Become?

    Who Will You Become?

    “You wasted it,” he said.

    I looked back, confused by what I was seeing. I considered a response. All that came was, “Who are you?” 

    “I’m all that you could have been,” he replied.   

    He looked just like me. I guess I couldn’t have been a bodybuilder. “What do you mean I wasted it?” I asked. 

    “You were given so much. So much opportunity. So much of a head start. You were raised to know God. You were raised to know Jesus Christ. You were raised to know why you were here and where you were going. And look what you did with it.” 

    I stared back dumbly. Ok, that was unfair. I got married late. Had one kid. Got divorced. Held down a decent job for most of my life. Maybe I drank a bit too much and I had a propensity to gamble. But my son loved me, despite my faults. My life wasn’t perfect by any means but a waste? This seemed over the top.  

    “I didn’t waste it. My life? It wasn’t wasted,” I finally said. I had no other defense than to repeatedly say it wasn’t a waste.

    “I’ve come to tell you that you did. I’m sorry,” the other me seemed to say with real compassion. Would I have been equally compassionate in his shoes? 

    “What did you do differently?” I asked. 

    A vision opened up to me. This must have been what so many near-death-experiencers describe as a life review, but this wasn’t my life. It was me I was seeing, but it wasn’t my life. It was my life for stretches. But then something changed. In a miraculous way I saw it all. The thoughts, the struggle, the fear, the doubt, and the triumph. I saw the grappling with faith.

    In my life, I’d never come back to God. It was too painful to feel like I’d let Him down. The focus of this vision was one critical moment.  A prayer to God begging Him to take this alternate version of me back. I’d never done that. 

    The vision flew through other minor and major events. The major events: Marriage, but not at the venue I got married at, this was performed at a beautiful white building. A temple. A wife he (the alternate version) was faithful to. Children that didn’t just “love” him but admired and adored him. Children that had their own faith that strengthened and guided them in a fallen world. A wife that appreciated him and stuck with him through it all. 

    Then seemingly minor but apparently important events: Service, church callings, prayers, books read, time spent studying, time spent writing, small discussions, small moments shared, smiles, gratitude, forgiveness, sharing, giving. I had to admit it was a much different life than the one I had lived. It sure had a lot less football on Sundays.

    Did I waste it?

    In 2021 when I wrote the above, I had heard the question, “If on the last day of your life you met the person you could have been, what would you say to each other?” 

    That inspired me to write the brief dialogue above. It’s what I thought that interaction could look like if I never turned back to God and reminded myself what is truly important about this life.

  • A Letter to my Brother

    A Letter to my Brother

    You think you’ve lived.

    You think you’ve loved.

    You think you’ve cried.

    You think you’ve felt.

    You haven’t felt anything yet.

    Prepare yourself.

    When that baby girl is born in June you’ll realize in one momentous second that you’ll never be the same.

    It’s the strangest thing. You’ve thought this whole time you’ve had a life and then in one moment you realize, “Woah.” Words can’t describe the moment a child is born. “Heart expanding” isn’t all encompassing enough. You’ve never had a heart until now. You realize all of a sudden every capacity to care and love that your being has possessed pales in comparison to this overwhelming feeling of care and protection you have for this helpless thing.

    It’s the craziest thing.

    Advice.

    Don’t blink. Dwell on how quickly time passes just enough to kick yourself into gear. So that when you’re tired, and, oh, you think you’ve been tired before now? You’ve never known tired. When you’re tired and grumpy and thinking you can’t wait until they just get out of diapers, or put on their own pants, or pour their own cereal, until you remember one day will be the last diaper, the last time helping them put on pants, the last time pouring their cereal. Remember every day that one day will be the last day for all these things, and it makes it easier.

    Don’t watch those “memories videos” iPhones make at any point after having a daughter. Unless you have 3 hours to spare melting into a puddle of sadness, joy, despair, and existential crisis thinking about how time goes by. And your girl grows.

    Don’t dwell on this too much or your heart will explode out of your chest.

    Don’t let the time go by without noticing.

    Don’t hate the sleepless nights too much, because, dare I even say, one day you’ll miss them.

    Many a father has experienced a new level of emotion when considering that their baby girl will one day grow up.

    So don’t miss a moment.

    Don’t listen to Beautiful Things once you have a daughter. Your heart can’t take it.

    Be careful listening to any songs.

    Be prepared for movies you used to enjoy taking on a whole new meaning. Hook is no longer a fun story about Peter Pan, it’s a story of fatherhood.

    You’ll have the HIGHEST highs and the lowest lows.

    In 5 years you’ll be a new person. You won’t even realize it’s happening. But one day you’ll realize, in an all-powerful moment – you are a new person. Probably a better person. You’ll learn so much you didn’t know you needed to learn.

    Your faith will grow. Your faith will be tested.

    Be a good father, and husband, at all costs. Nothing else matters as much as this.

    Be careful not to miss what she teaches you. Be like her.

    Don’t forget that children are angels sent from heaven and because of that, God will always watch over them, and you.

    Don’t forget to take her everywhere you can.

    Don’t forget that even sickness can be a blessing.

    ALWAYS embrace the chaos.

    I guess I could go on forever. But most of it you’ll have to learn on your own.

    Since you won’t be listening to Beautiful Things anymore I’ll give you my version:

    And I thank God every day
    For the girls He sent my way
    But I know the things He gives me
    He can take away

    And I hold them every night
    And that’s a feelin’ I never want to lose
    But there’s no man as terrified
    As the man who stands to lose

    Don’t be terrified. Just know time flies. Don’t waste it. Welcome to fatherhood.

  • Hook

    Hook

    I watch a lot of old movies from my childhood with my daughters now. I think Ivy has already started not taking me seriously when I say, “This is one of my favorite movies ever.” But Hook is really one of my favorite movies ever.

    Sometimes you forget that others did not live your childhood. When I heard Beth had seen Hook maybe one time through in her life, I was shocked. I’ve probably watched it from beginning to end at least 3 dozen times. Back in the day if you had a VHS of a movie it became an automatic watch at least a dozen times.

    For those who aren’t familiar with the movie Hook, it tells the story of a Peter Pan that left Neverland to marry Wendy Moira Angela Darling’s granddaughter. Peter is grown up now and has forgotten who he once was. It has Robin Williams as Peter Pan, Dustin Hoffman as Hook, and Julia Roberts as Tinker Bell. I never realized it was a Steven Spielberg film.

    I watched it recently with my girls. It’s been a while since I’ve watched it. This was the first time I’ve seen it since having kids. Some things stood out to me in my new “dad of three” mind. 

    In the movie, Peter Pan has become an important person. He works in “mergers and acquisitions.” It sounds like he works in major corporate takeovers. As Jack, Peter’s nine-year-old son, describes what Peter does for work, Wendy, who is now extremely old, mutters, more to herself than to anyone, “Peter, you’ve become a pirate.”

    Which led to the first thing from the movie that made me think, the first major theme. In Neverland, there are two main categories: Pirate or Child. A pirate steals, plunders, and is generally bad. The children, while not perfect, are, well, children. They are kind, playful, and forgiving. The children are good. Everything is a game to them. The children are filled with joy. The pirates are filled with hate. The Pirates and the Children in Neverland are diametrically opposed.

    There is a moment where Captain James Hook is considering suicide. He is musing about how he has no purpose and no meaning and just can’t take this life anymore. The film makes it clear this isn’t the first time this has happened. 

    The children on the other hand, despite their meager existence, have joy simply from living.

    There is a statement made throughout the film, “Death is the last great adventure.” We’ve all heard this statement. The movie emphasizes that it is the Pirates, the adults, who dwell on and obsess over death. The children never talk this way. To them life is the adventure. Every day for the children is filled with joy and fun. They’re not looking forward to death, they are too busy thinking about life.

    Adults as “bad” and children as “good.” But why? As a stressed out, often frustrated, often impatient husband and father, I heard what the movie was telling me. I am a pirate. The three little girls I’m surrounded by every day are pure joy, adventure, and curiosity. I am not bad. But my pirate tendencies are. My girls are good. 

    There’s a moment in Neverland when Peter’s kidnapped daughter starts singing out over the pirate city. She’s singing a lullaby that her mother used to sing to her. The pirates have forgotten their mothers. The pirates have forgotten what it’s like to be a child. As the young girl sings, the hardened, mean, tough pirates stop. They stare. Some weep. 

    Be ye as little children. The pirates had forgotten what it is to be a child. 

    The movie is about finding joy despite the mundane nature of life. The movie reminds us to not be pirates. Be children. Play, run, laugh.

    Finally, at the climax of the movie, Peter needs to remember who he was, or he’ll lose everything. He needs to have a happy thought. He’s been so obsessed with work and success for so long, he doesn’t remember where true happiness lies. He remembers being a father. He remembers the births of his two children. This is his happy thought: being a father. This is what allows him to fly. This is what allows him to defeat the pirates and be Peter Pan again. It’s this thought that allows him to be like a child again. 

    In the last scene of the movie, Wendy is standing at the window with Peter and his family. She says, “Your adventures are over.” Peter replies, “Oh no, to live, to live will be an awfully big adventure.”

  • San Junipero

    San Junipero

    I really enjoy the show Black Mirror on Netflix.

    For those who don’t know the show, each season includes independent episodes that usually (but not always) have a futuristic, technological theme.

    One of my favorite episodes is called San Junipero.

    I don’t love this episode for its ending. I love it for how it makes me think. Funny enough, I watched the episode a second time, 7 years after the first viewing. Usually when something really makes me think, I pull out my phone and start writing down my thoughts.

    In 2025 when I rewatched San Junipero, I pulled out my phone to take notes. I found notes I took 7 years prior. I didn’t remember taking those notes. But they fit exactly what I thought 7 years later watching the episode a second time. Good to see I’m consistent. Typing those thoughts out led to this blog post.

    In the show, San Junipero is a virtual reality where people can upload their consciousness to live and experience life much like in the real world. In San Junipero, people can eat, drink, laugh, dance, and do seemingly all of the things that you can do in real life.  

    The main character is named Yorki. Yorki meets a character named Kelly (I hope it goes without saying that there are about to be spoilers for the episode).

    Yorki and Kelly start a romance in San Junipero. In San Junipero, everyone is young and vibrant. We learn that in the real world Yorki is an old woman who was paralyzed at the age of 20 and has spent her entire life in a coma-like state. Kelly is an old woman who was given 3 months to live 6 months ago.

    We learn that Kelly was married for many years to a man named Richard. Kelly and Richard… well, I’ll let Kelly tell the story.

    The episode comes to a climax when Yorki is trying to convince Kelly to stay with her in San Junipero.

    This leads to one of the most powerful monologues I’ve ever seen on television. In exasperation and frustration at Yorki’s request, Kelly exploded (you can watch the exact clip on YouTube HERE):

    “49 years. I was with him for 49 years. You can’t begin to imagine. You can’t know. The bond, the commitment, the boredom, the yearning, the laughter, the love of it. The *expletive love. You just cannot know. Everything we sacrificed. The years I gave him. The years he gave me. Did you think to ask? Did it occur to you to ask?

    “We had a daughter, Allison. Always difficult, always beautiful. Died at 39 years old, bless her heart. And Richard and I, we felt that heartbreak as one.

    “You know when he was dying, Rich said to me, when they offered him this, to pass over, pass through, spend eternity in this *expletive graveyard you’re so in love with, he said, ‘How can I? When she missed out, how can I?’ And so he went. And I wish I could believe he’s with her now, that they’re together, but I don’t. I believe they’re nowhere. Just like you said. Gone…

    “And now you give me some sales pitch about how *expletive peachy forever could be. You want to spend forever somewhere nothing matters? End up like Wes. All those lost *expletives at the Quagmire trying anything to feel something, go ahead. But I’m out. I’m gone.”

    The episode goes on. You see a coffin being lowered into a grave next to Richard’s tombstone. You think that’s the end.

    Black Mirror is known for its twists. I love it for its twists. I hated this twist.

    Kelly is back in San Junipero with Yorki. She decided not to “pass on.” She stayed in San Junipero. The show plays background music of Belinda Carlisle’s Heaven is a Place on Earth.

    While this may seem like a happy ending, the broader implications broke my heart.

    Obviously, I’m going to take this from a perspective of faith.

    There’s a lot to unpack here and a lot to consider. It’s why, despite my dislike for the ending, it’ s still one of my favorite episodes.

    Kelly could have “moved on” and spent an eternity with her husband and daughter. Instead she decided to stay in an artificial world.

    What is the lesson here?

    Her husband Rich had a particle of faith. Just a mustard seed of faith, you might say. Kelly couldn’t exhibit even that. She said herself, “I wish I could believe he’s with her now.” Wish. She Wishes. She hopes, probably. But she couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t even give real honest effort. She could only wish and hope but she couldn’t believe. According to Kelly Richard didn’t believe, but clearly he tried to. From a faithful perspective, what did Richard get? An eternity with his beloved daughter. What did Kelly get? An eternity in a fake and counterfeit world.

    Kelly took the guarantee in front of her. She took what she knew. She chose earth. She chose an existence of “trying to feel alive” over eternal life.

    Kelly’s monologue makes mention of a place called the Quagmire. The definition of quagmire is: “a soft boggy area of land that gives way underfoot.” A land that gives way underfoot = unsteady, uncertain, unsure. A sandy foundation.

    The Quagmire was a disgusting, sad, pathetic place where people in San Junipero went to party. It was all grotesque acts, cage fighting, drugs – all the worst of the world. Why did so many people in San Junipero go to the Quagmire? A hell-hole of debauchery? Kelly in her monologue pointed out the reason the living souls of the dead in San Junipero went there. Why would they go to somewhere so horrible? Just to try to feel alive.

    This is another eternal point to consider. The Quagmire clearly represented hell. Hell is a lack of progression. Hell is a lack of purpose.

    What is life without purpose? What is your purpose?

    Kelly chose a fake world. Will her life there be happy? Maybe. It might even be amazing, from an earthly perspective.

    We know that people really will make this choice. When some die, they can’t enjoy an otherworldly experience because they are too attached to this world. It’s the reason Jesus said to leave all earthly things behind and seek after eternal things. There is so much in store for us if we can just seek it out. Some will choose this world and this life because they can’t garner the faith to hope for something so much more.

    For those that want a greater blessing, there will be an eternity of love and joy, and things we can’t even begin to wrap our minds around – amazing, spectacular, fantastic things. But if we get too stuck in this world, we’ll miss the opportunity for that so much more.

    The fictional Richard hoped for so much more. He wished for so much more. He believed it just enough that he received it. A blessed existence for eternity with his daughter.

    I so wished the show would have taken an “eternal perspective” for once. But alas, it is a show of the world.