No Coincidences

Tag: Family

  • 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.

  • Responsibility to Love

    Responsibility to Love

    I’ve written on this topic before. What to do With All the Love. Love Has Afforded Me Much. A slightly new thought came to me on this topic.

    There is a great responsibility for firstborns to love.

    Think about it.

    I was thinking about Sage. For her whole existence up to a point she will have shared, to some extent, the love and affection she receives with Ivy. Does this mean Sage is loved any less? No, absolutely not. She is endlessly loved.

    That said, she has shared her love with Ivy.

    It made me think, yet again, of all the singular love poured out on Ivy in her first 21 months.

    It made me reflect on the love I received in the 45 months before Adie joined our family.

    How did that shape me?

    Given the measure of love and affection I received from two loving parents, singularly focused attention and love for 45 months, does that increase my responsibility to love?

    Given this theory, I think firstborns have a higher responsibility to love. With great power comes great responsibility. There is no greater power in the world than love.

    Maybe this is why the firstborn gets the birthright (wink face).

    Thos of us who have experienced love, been given love, have felt love, it’s important for us to share that. There are so many in the world that don’t grow up in a loving household. If you’re reading this and you did grow up in a loving household, you’ve been given an advantage in life worth more than a huge inheritance. You’ve been given a huge leg up in this life if you were born into a loving home.

    Share it.

    Don’t waste the gift you’ve been given.

    Now, here’s some food for thought to counter my “firstborn love theory” (Trademark pending) –

    Other ideas to consider, did my love actually expand with the arrival of Adie (my little sister) because I had experienced love and now I got to share it with my little sister? Did my first learning experience of giving love outside of my parents who already loved me so much grow my capacity to love even more? Did getting to love somebody who couldn’t do anything for me help my capacity to love, learning at a young age to love somebody without getting anything in return? Does that add to my responsibility as the firstborn?

    Or is Adie’s capacity to love greater than mine because she was born into loving a 3 person family, unlike myself? Does that make Easton’s (youngest of 6) capacity to love 3x mine since he was born into a family 3 times bigger than the one I was born into? How does this balance with my personal capacity to love expanding every time a new baby joined our family?

    Love.

    We need to think about it more.

    Which leads to the ultimate, and powerful question: is love in limited supply?

    We all have an infinite capacity to love. I don’t believe there is any limit on how we can love. I think God is our example in this. Think about how much He loves you. Whether you come from a loving household or not, whether you’re the firstborn of 10, an only child, an orphan, the youngest of 2, and all examples in between, you have a divine capacity to love. Divine. Your Father is God. He loves you. Your capacity to love is infinite. Use it. Share it.

    Epilogue

    The above post was written in May of 2023. I kid you not, as I opened it to review and post in 2026, Beth sent me a video with a text attached.

    The text read: “Wren kept asking, “Where Ivy?” Then Ivy came down and Wren waved and said, “Good morning Ivy!” And gave her a hug. But Ivy was still waking up a bit so when she sat down to eat, Wren came over, gave her another gentle hug, and started gently rubbing Ivy’s back. It’s like Wren is teaching them how to love.”

    I replied, “Reminding them.”

    And Beth said, “Blog post!”

    She knows me too well. But I didn’t realize I was about to post this!

    We’ve been struggling a little with Ivy and Sage being gentle and loving with Wren as they get older. They are the older sisters, a lot more rambunctious and a lot more physical. Sometimes Wren messes up their “set ups” (toys they’ve setup). Wren wants to be with them and play with them but she’s very destructive. They struggle sharing with Wren. Wren is still little. So they’ve had a hard time.

    But I know that Ivy was sent here to be an example as the oldest sister. I know that Sage was sent here to be a peacekeeping, independent, strong second daughter to keep everyone connected. Maybe Wren was sent to remind us all how to love. Maybe she’s meant to teach us to be a little more patient with one another.

    EternalPerspective.

  • 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.

  • RSVP

    RSVP

    I recently attended a wedding that had 100 people RSVP. Of those 100 RSVPs, 90 people showed up.

    A few years ago Beth put a ton of effort into planning a semi-surprise birthday party for me. It was semi-surprise because I knew we were gathering, I just thought it was with her family at their home. What I didn’t know is that she had invited 30 or so other people to celebrate.

    Beth gathered RSVPs a few weeks ahead of time. She planned activities. She got cake and catered food to feed the 30 RSVPs plus family. She put a ton of effort into preparing the event.

    The days leading up to the party, unbeknownst to me, Beth started getting an influx of texts from those 30 RSVPs. “I’m sick.” “My kids are sick.” “My dog is sick.” “I forgot it was Saturday.” Etc. Etc.  

    I’m sure Beth felt like she was living the parable of the wedding banquet in Matthew chapter 22. If my closest friends weren’t interested in coming to the party they RSVP’d for, maybe people off the street would have interest in celebrating. At least they’d be there to eat the food and say surprise.

    Those 30 RSVPs turned into 8 real people. You can imagine Beth’s disappointment when she put so much effort into this surprise and then just over 25% of the people who said they would come actually came. We were eating good that day. We had food for 30+ people and only 8 to eat it. 

    It stung, quite a bit.

    Since then Beth has planned birthday parties for our daughters. She hesitates to do RSVPs anymore. What’s the point of doing an RSVP if 10% who say they’re going to come don’t ultimately show up? How about if 75% don’t show up? Can’t really plan for that margin of error. What’s the point of an RSVP at that point?

    Beth and I had a conversation recently about our family values. What’s important to us that other people know about us? What do we want our girls to know about our family as they grow older?

    We discussed a lot of family values but one of the most important was doing the things we say we’ll do. Keeping our commitments is important to our family. Beth and I pride ourselves on the fact that if we say we’re going to do something, we do it.

    Are we perfect? No. Do things happen? Of course. But we try.

    There’s a distinction I like to make. Excuses versus reasons. So many people provide excuses for why they can’t make it to something they’ve committed to. I don’t think there should ever be “excuses.” There are excuses and there are reasons. If I can’t be somewhere, it better be for a reason and not for an excuse.

    Here’s the thing, excuse givers think their excuses are reasons. Oftentimes they’re not. Oftentimes, the person could make their committment. They’ve just found an excuse not to. The next time you try to back out of something you said you were going to do, ask yourself: Is this an excuse or a reason? If it is a true reason, you CAN NOT make it to your committment, be honest with yourself, let the person you previously communicated committment to know with sincere apology, and move on. If it’s an excuse, look in the mirror.

    Now this isn’t to be high and mighty. This isn’t to toot our horn. This isn’t to imply that we’re better than anyone else. Far from it. This is something we pride ourselves on. Yes. This is a commitment we’ve made to keep our commitments. That’s just who we want to be. 

    I don’t ever want to make people feel bad. That’s the last thing in the world I EVER want to do. But after this wedding where 10% of the people who said they were going to come didn’t come, I decided I wanted to write on this topic. 

    If you’re reading this and feeling a pang of guilt about something you recently committed to and then didn’t show up, good. You should feel a pang of guilt.

    I don’t know if it’s always been this way. I don’t know if RSVPs in the 90s were considered optional. To Beth and I, and I know in the family I was raised in, if you said you were going to be somewhere you just showed up. Nobody wanted to clean the church, I never wanted to go to scout activities, I sometimes hated church, but you showed up. I think society could do a little better keeping their commitments.

    I think something has shifted. I think obligations are optional and commitments are made to be set aside when ultimately it’s inconvenient and you don’t want to go. In a world where you can just relax and watch that addictive episode on Netflix instead of get ready, pack into the car, drive a distance, and have to be around people you may not be in the mood to talk to, Netflix starts to look nice. And a lot of people choose Netflix.

    Here’s the thing. Then don’t RSVP. Here is my public service announcement. If you’re a person that can’t keep commitments, don’t RSVP.

    Again, Beth and I aren’t perfect. There have been times we have fallen short. All we can do is try to be better the next time.

    There are too many excuses nowadays.

    Everyone’s child, dog, or self is always sick.

    Now that we have three kids, we get it. It’s hard to get those three little (sometimes) monsters ready and loaded into a vehicle and transported to some thing we really don’t want to go to. There have been many times that Beth has gotten really sick and I’ve had to take three girls by myself to something. Is it hard? Yes. Does it suck sometimes? Yes. But it doesn’t matter. A commitment is a commitment. 

    A good example comes to mind. Our family had committed to meeting the Matthews family at the zoo one Saturday morning. As the time to leave approached Beth started to get a terrible headache and feel nauseous. The girls were grumpy and screaming. Beth went upstairs to get some reprieve. I couldn’t find the car keys. I almost gave up. But the Matthews are one of those rare people that have been there for us with 100% consistency. They showed up to that birthday party. When they say they’ll be somewhere I have no doubt they will show up.

    So Ivy and I searched and prayed and searched for those keys for almost two hours. We found them. We threw together a diaper bag of snacks and headed off to the zoo almost 3 hours later than we planned on. But we showed up.

    For the record, I haven’t always been a person who kept his commitments. I don’t think I’ve always been a person who could be relied upon. I think I used to be flaky. When I was younger, I might commit to something and not show up. I might say I’d be somewhere without being sure I’d actually go. At some point I decided to change. At some point I decided I wanted to be someone who showed up. This was a concious decision and it took concerted effort. Anyone can do it. It’s not in someone’s DNA to bail on plans just as it’s not in someone’s DNA to keep committments. It’s a decision everyday. That’s all.

    For me personally, I think this has come with maturity. My high school basketball coach used to make us clean our hotel rooms before leaving. This made no sense to me. Isn’t that the point of housekeeping? He pointed out that if we left our rooms a disaster someone else had to pick it up. “Isn’t that their job?” We would ask. He would say we didn’t have to make anyone’s job harder that it needed to be. Picking up after ourselves was the right thing to do. I think doing what you say you’re going to do is the right thing to do. Only as I’ve gotten older have I appreciated these two considerations.

    There are always reasons not to keep commitments. 

    Again, if you’re reading this and feeling offended, maybe you’re even one of those people that didn’t show up to that birthday party years ago (unlikely you remember, but whatever), if you’re reading this and feeling upset by what you’re reading…..good. That’s very unlike me to say. It’s kind of hard for me to say. But good. If me writing this makes one person keep one commitment they make, it will have been worth it.

    We need people to keep commitments in this world. 

    Things will always come up. There’s always a good reason not to show up. But do you show up anyway?

    I mentioned the Matthews and there are other people I trust that when they say they’ll do something, they’ll do it. 

    To be honest, those people are few and far between. 

    There are people that are there for me and amazing people and I love them so much. But I just don’t trust if they say they’ll show up that they’ll actually be there.

    I know we’re all busy. If I’ve ever not kept a serious commitment it’s likely more due to disorganization than inconsideration. But ultimately, I’m responsible for my schedule. And if I’m that busy, then I shouldn’t RSVP. Not being organized can’t be an excuse for being inconsiderate, and not showing up.

    Life will always be busy and it only gets busier.

    I know things come up. I get it. I still love you.

    But if you’re a person that doesn’t show up, I encourage you to think about what values are important to you and what you want people to think when they think about you.

    Do you show up?

  • Monumental Moment

    Monumental Moment

    I’ve written about seemingly small moments in my life that made a huge difference on the trajectory of my future. I’ve mentioned a postcard. I’ve also mentioned a seemingly inconsequential invitation to join a basketball team (from that same link). I’d like to elaborate on that basketball invitation story.

    I was so nervous my first time coming back to church that I made my roommate come with me so I didn’t have to go alone. It had been years since I’d been at church.

    I only remember one thing about that first day back at church, and it was after sacrament meeting ended. I’d just sat through my first sacrament meeting in I’m not sure how many years. I was self-conscious, uncomfortable, ready to leave, when the person in front of me turned around in his seat.

    “Hey, do you play basketball?” He asked.

    I remember being blown away. I remember thinking, “Wow! The spirit is powerful here! How did he know???”

    I’ve thought back on that moment. Yes, the spirit was powerful that day. But not in a mystical, this stranger in front of me received a supernatural message that I loved basketball, kind of way. The world would consider that a powerful spiritual experience. What actually happened was equally as powerful, yet more easily “understood” by worldly standards.

    The truth is, as I now suspect, the person who sent that postcard went the extra mile. When I asked about going to church, after telling me where they met and what time, she also reached out to the Bishop of that ward. In hindsignt, I’m pretty sure I was brought up in ward council, a meeting where leaders of a church ward discuss pressing matters.

    I’m sure I was mentioned. I’m sure Kelsie, the postcard giver, told the bishop I liked basketball. That person who turned around in their chair to ask if I liked basketball was in that meeting. I’m sure he was looking for me.

    Is this any less miraculous?

    Is it any less of a miracle that an individual, who had never spoken to me before had heard of me and knew I needed friendship extended in my direction? A complete stranger stepped out of his comfort zone and said hi to a stranger and asked a seemingly random question. A complete stranger didn’t care if I was the worst basketball player in the world, he still asked me to join a city league team with him. 

    As a basketball player, that last part is significant. I would hesitate to ask someone I’d never seen play basketball to join my team. How do I know that person can dribble a basketball? How do I know whether or not that person knows how to play team basketball? How do I know whether or not that person is a nightmare on the basketball court?

    The invitation that day was about more than basketball. That invitation came from an individual who had heard about me, a wayward soul trying to come back, and followed a spiritual prompting to invite me to play on a basketball team- basketball skills be darned.

    That person’s name was David Lake and I owe him a great debt. I have thanked him for that moment. Such a tiny moment. I know he didn’t think about it much after doing it. That was just the kind of person he was. In that moment, a stranger knew me, cared about me, and invited me. 

    That moment made all the difference in my life.

    It’s amazing how a seemingly tiny moment can change the trajectory of a life. Where am I if not for that monumental moment? Did I come to church the next week? Did I meet my wife? Do I have Ivy, Sage, Wren – my own eternal family? 

    There are some moments that carry more weight than others, no matter how seemingly inconsequential.

    My invitation to anyone reading- the next time you’re at the grocery store, or the dog park, or the gym, or at work, and that strange thought comes to your mind while you’re conversing with someone, “Invite them.” Do it. You don’t know the profound blessing that can change a person’s life because you decide to step out of your comfort zone and invite a stranger.

    If you have been blessed by the Gospel of Jesus Christ, share it. Invite others. It’s the least you can do to thank your Heavenly Father for this gift He has given you.

    Beth and I were laughing how roommate Chris is in this picture but I’m not. David Lake prominently placed.
    Beth and I actually met through church basketball. Crazy huh? As you’ll see in this picture, couldn’t be seen too close to her, would be too obvious.
    A future wife, future best friend I still coach with, many lifelong friends, and saving Bishop all in one picture. That’s a miracle.