please regift

Regift (v) - The act of taking a gift that has been received and giving it to someone else.

 

Have you ever heard a sermon on regifting?  I did… yesterday.  In fact, my pastor encouraged it!  Actually, he went so far as to suggest that God wants me to regift!

 

Let me explain…

 

Through December, my pastor has been preaching a Sunday morning series titled “the Gifts of Christmas”.  Each Sunday morning, there is a shiny wrapped package on the platform.  When he opens the package, there is something in it to illustrate the particular gift he is speaking about that day.  I especially liked and resonated with yesterday’s gift.

 

When he untied the large bow and removed the top of the package, he pulled out a second gift box, wrapped identical to the first.  His message was “Grace… the gift that keeps on giving”.  The main idea of his message was that if we have received grace from God, then we should pass that grace on to others.

 

Grace is a topic that has piqued my interest over the past years... both the grace that God has extended to me in the form of salvation through faith in His Son, Jesus Christ; and, the grace I, and my fellow humans, extend (or not) to each other.  This was a fresh and welcomed perspective on the subject.

 

He used the image of the gift-within-a-gift as a visual illustration, removing the inner gift and walking through the auditorium with the still-wrapped package extended in his hands, so that when others see him coming, they first see the gift of grace extended toward them.  He challenged us with the question, "Will you be perceived as a 'gift' to all those who come in contact with you?"

 

Convicting, to be sure!

 

I've had plenty of opportunities to extend grace to others over the course of my lifetime.  Sadly, I've often blown those opportunities.  I think the most missed opportunities occur within my own four walls... toward the family I love.  I'm learning, though, and I'd like to think I'm improving.  I've recently had some sizable tests of my grace extension.  I'm quite sure it is still a mix of pass and fail, but I hope those who have witnessed this testing would at least grade me as "showing improvement".

 

One thing to clarify about grace, though... grace is not being a doormat.  There are times when we need to hold others accountable for their decisions and actions.  There are times for judgement, justice and reckoning.  Even that, though, can often be handled graciously... especially if there is evidence of genuine remorse or a desire to right wrongs.

 

So, as I ponder, this Christmas season, some of the gifts I've received from the hand of God, I am truly thankful for God's grace.  But, perhaps I should work on doing a little more regifting.  I'm sure the giver would not be offended... in fact, He gives with instructions to "please regift"!

 

 

caching a break

Geocaching... either you get it, or you don't! 

Yep!  Telling others that you use satellite technology to find plastic or metal containers hidden by others, just so you can sign your username on a piece of paper and keep score of how many times you've done that creates one of two reactions... looking at you like that is a VERY cool idea, or like you have two heads.  There's really no middle ground, it seems.

Amongst the geocaching community, though, there is a lot of variety.  There are those participants who eat, sleep, breathe caching; there are those who enjoy it, but in smaller doses; and, there are those that try it a few times and never really continue.  I fall into the middle category.  I cache occasionally, mostly just a handful here and there, and my find score (currently 405) is nothing heroic for someone actively caching since 2011.

My friend, the Father of Five, is also a geocacher, with a caching mentality very similar to mine... just a little here and there.  In fact, our find scores have been running very close for the past few years.  He has been a bit ahead of me for a while, but I've been watching to make sure he doesn't outpace me too much.

Some geocachers, on a regular basis, will spend a whole day caching.  Therefore, they have found thousands of caches.  I mostly just grab a few at a time, not investing any large blocks of time to the hobby... until today.

According to geocaching standards, caches should be placed no closer than 528 feet (.1 miles) from each other.  I recently found a state park not too far from my home that had a cluster of about 60 caches, all spaced roughly the minimum distance of 528 feet.  It was tempting!

I have a few days of PTO left, so I had today off and the forecast was for mid-40's.  I decided to do something I had never done, and spend the WHOLE day geocaching.  I downloaded everything into the GPS the night before and I headed out to the park, arriving about 10am.  This time of year, the park was pretty deserted, and with fog over the lake, it was a very peaceful start to the morning.

 

Some of the caches were within the disc golf course, which is something I want to try

 

The majority of the caches in this park were all placed by the same geocacher, Fourtenner.  While loading the caches into my GPS last night, I read the description for a tribute cache, placed in remembrance of Fourtenner.  The description indicated that Fourtenner passed away December 1, 2014, after battling cancer.  I never met him, but he had found the majority of the few caches I own and he preceded me in logging many area caches.  I was well acquainted with his name, but wish I could have met him.  He owned many caches and they were well placed and well maintained.  He was an asset to the game of geocaching.  It seems a few of his friends will be "adopting" his caches and maintaining them in his honor.  He used many unique homemade cache containers, fabricated from shotgun shells, like the one pictured above.

 

A yurt in the campground... looks like fun!

 

the Father of Five has found 399 caches... I texted him this photo when I found this one to tie his score!

 

Geocachers like to keep track of "milestones". This is my 400th find... not huge numbers by geocaching standards, but fun, nonetheless! 

 

A map of the cache cluster... the smileys are the ones I found today (29 found/38 attempted)

 

I'm still not dedicated enought to geocaching to spend seven hours a day doing it on a regular basis, but I have to admit, it was a fun day.  With them clustered so close together (which is not always the case), I parked the car in the morning and worked my way through the park on foot, 500-600 feet at a time.  It was great exercise and it was very peaceful, since the park was nearly deserted. 

 

I did once get a strange look from a walking couple while I was milling around in the edge of the woods waiting for them to pass.  I thought it was ironic that THEY were looking at ME strangely... they were pushing a dog in a stroller!  I ask you... who was more strange?  I would have loved to snap a pic, but they were already eyeing me suspiciously...

 

Thanks Fourtenner, for all you did for geocaching, and for providing me a day of great exercise and recreation! 

hoop it up!

With Ben's disabilities in the family, we sometimes forget that Lily, being one-handed, also has a disability.  The cool thing is... she makes it really easy to forget that!  The girl pretty much does anything she wants and there's almost nothing she can't do.

So, what does a girl like Lily do when she decides she'd like to try playing basketball?  She plays basketball!

Dylan loves basketball, but has never played on a school team.  As a freshman, he now feels it's too late to start team play, but he spends hours on the driveway with our home hoop, and hours playing NBA video games.  Just over a year ago, Lily started to show an interest in basketball and Dylan latched onto that and started to show her some of the basics.

Now, it is a regular occurrence for the two of them to be playing basketball video games, or one-on-one games on the driveway together.  They are an odd pair on the driveway... Dylan knocking on the door of 6'-0" and his little sister just barely broke 4'-0".  But, she doesn't back down from a challenge! (And, he goes a little easy on her!)

Recently, Lily brought home information about a series of four open gym Saturdays for fourth grade girls interested in playing basketball and asked if she could go.  We let her participate and she proved to have a few skills.  She decided that she'd like to give this year's fourth grade girl's team a try.  Dylan lobbied for her, since he wishes he'd have played when he was younger.  We agreed to let her try it for a year and see what happens.

Today was her first actual game.  She scored four points to help the Lady Tigers win 16-13!

Way to go, Lily!

 

Number 14

Scoring her second basket of the game!

there were eight...

...and then, there were none.
 

While the world went about it's Monday morning business, there was little notice of the event.  But, I, and those with whom I share a heritage and a last name, noticed.  Each has their own reflections on the passing of my Great Aunt June.  These are mine, and they center not so much on her as an individual, but on her as a member of a sibling group.
 

My Aunt June was the last surviving member of a great generation of eight siblings... an even split of four boys and four girls.  The count is actually nine siblings... little Donna Dean died at the age of two.  I only knew seven of them, and five of those more closely than the others.  One brother died around the time I was born, but his widowed wife is remarried and to this day has rarely ever missed a family function (that ought to tell you something about this group!).  Another brother lived in California and a sister in Florida.  While I knew them, I was not as closely associated with them as the other five that were more local.  My Great Aunt June, born in 1927, was the youngest of the sibling group.  The eldest, Jerry, born in 1910, was my paternal Grandpa.

 

Glenn, Art, Jerry, Jim

Emily, June, Evelyn, Bernie

 

History, or more accurately, Tom Brokaw, coined them "the Greatest Generation".  They were a generation who spent their childhood in the throes of the Great Depression and their young adulthood embroiled in World War II.  They were a generation characterized by a strong work ethic and a sense of civil duty.  They knew hardships and developed perseverance and gratitude.  They stuck with commitments and often were known to do things because they believed it was the right thing to do.  While the view of past generations can sometimes be idealized, they were truly a great generation.  Although they did not act so that we would one day call them great, those of my generation, and generations following, owe gratitude to them for their examples of greatness.
 

And, though I'm sure they had their faults and shortcomings, in my child-growing-into-adult eyes, at least, this sibling group of eight represented their generation well and lived up to every bit of that generational greatness.
 

To me, they seemed a very tight knit sibling group, though 17 years separated the eldest from the youngest.  It's hard to get eight siblings, married with children and grandchildren, together at one time.  But, at least twice each year they made an attempt with a large reunion in the summer and a second near Christmas.  Of course, these were slightly simpler times when families were much less busy than they are today, but the family events were a priority of many.  They were well attended, even as much as possible by the out-of-state siblings.

These events are favorite childhood memories of mine.  As a kid, I was often doing "kid" things at these family events, yet I still remember being drawn to my Grandpa and these great aunts and uncles.  Yes, I loved being with these folks.  They were my family, of course, but I remember them as more than that.

 

I remember them as having a zest for life that was infectious.
 

I remember them as laughing a lot when they were together.
 

I remember them as storytellers, the lot of them (and likely mild embellishers).
 

I remember them as siblings with friendly banter and camaraderie amongst them.
 

I remember them as lacking much of the family drama and tension that sometimes characterizes siblings.
 

Again, perhaps I'm idealizing the eight just a bit.  But, if I am, don't tell me... this is how I want to remember them. 
 

There was something these siblings had that not every one of their generation possessed... it was some sort of family trait, I think.  The best way that I can describe it (and I think my relatives will relate), is that they lived with a mischievous twinkle in their eye and an ornery streak in their personality.  At least I perceived them that way, and growing up in this family, it made them just a bit irresistible.  I see bits and pieces of that family "twinkle" sprinkled through the succeeding generations, but not so collective and concentrated as they possessed it.
 

I don't come from a family heritage of wealth, power, fame or prestige.  But, in some way, every one of these eight have made a favorable impression on me and I am a better person for having known them.  As I take my place in their lineage, I do so with great pride.  As the last of a great generation leaves this earth, I can say that it is an honor to share a name and a heritage with these eight folks.
 

So, goodbye Grandpa Jerry.  Goodbye Glenn, Evelyn, Jim, Bernie, Art and Emily.  And, Goodbye June.  Though your generation is gone, you are not forgotten.