Category / Family

by Greg

The Case of the Missing iPhone

iPhone 3GsThe phone rang Sunday afternoon. As soon as it did, I remembered that I had left the handset somewhere other than where it was supposed to be. After a brief search, I located it and saw the call was from my parents home, so I clicked the TALK button.

“Hello!” I said with sing-songy happiness.

“Do you know where your phone is?” asked the voice of my mother.

Taken aback, wondering how in the world she knew that I didn’t answer earlier because I couldn’t find the phone, I stumbled through saying, “Well, yeah… I had just left it… but… yes. I found it.”

“Oh really?” said she, knowingly.

At this point, I’m very confused. I had been watching a very intense Buffalo Sabres game, very much engrossed in that tight contest. Now my Mom is somehow slightly clairvoyant and even challenging my response?

“What do you mean?” I finally managed.

“I just got a call from a man named Wade… from your iPhone.” She let that hang for a minute, expecting a surprised response from me. She got it.

“Uh… what??” That was about it. 🙂

She explained that she had just received a call—from our iPhone—from a stranger named Wade, who explained to her that he had “found” this iPhone, and decided to scroll through the recent call list and try to ascertain to whom the phone belonged, and how to get it to them. She was wary of this very odd set of circumstances, and so got his name (which she later reported was an equally odd name) and said she would call me at home, which she then did.

The rest of the story follows…

Early Sunday morning, Jen informed me that she’d like to let me have a nice, quiet, non-work day at home, so she would take all six kids out for some shopping errands (including a stop at their favorite thrift store) while I stayed home and wrote or read until watching the Sabres game in peace, not needing to tend to many children’s needs every couple minutes. That was so nice and thoughtful! I knew it was really not something she enjoys doing, too, so it was clearly a gift she wanted to give to me. And so, I accepted.

They enjoyed a lunch together at Cici’s Pizza (ever been there? it’s fun!) and then found and purchased the hockey and skating equipment they were hoping to acquire, and then ended their excursion at the aforementioned favorite thrift store.

It was here that the adventure began.

Cam was tired by this point, and so was somewhat cantankerous. Biggest brother, Ian, offered to take him out to the van whilst the other shopped. He asked Mom if he could take the iPhone out with him, so he could listen to the Sabres game out there. Mom approved, and handed him the phone.

Here’s where the details get fuzzy. Ian does not recall where he put the phone down, nor for what reason he might have. Perhaps it even just slipped out of his pocket? Regardless, he somehow made it out to the van sans iPhone; and thus entered Wade into our family’s life.

At some point shortly after the misplacement of the iPhone, Wade and his girlfriend and her daughter, shopping at this very same favorite thrift store, came across this iPhone. (He did not tell me where it was discovered: floor, shelf, etc.) He decided to have a look at the recent calls list, rather than just hand it over to the store employees. (He and the two others with him were reticent to trust the employees, thinking they might decide to abscond with such a nice lost-and-found discovery.)

He told me later that while perusing the recent calls he saw ‘Grammy & Grandpa’ and figured, “Well they should know how to get this phone to its owner, if anyone does!”

He was right! (But it did freak out the Grammy a little bit…)

So he calls Mom, gives her the information, and she calls me. I called him back on his cell phone and assured him that the best option would be to just give it to the store employees, and Jen would get back there eventually, even if she didn’t know the phone was missing until they returned home.

Two important pieces here: one, I couldn’t contact Jen, since she didn’t have the phone, and two, we live about 35-40 minutes from this store. Ouch.

I need to back up once more. I’m not sure of the timing, but either before or after he called Grammy & Grandpa, Wade did alert the store employees that he was “looking for” Greg Campbell. So, at some point while they were shopping, Jen and kids heard a page for “Greg Campbell”. Jen told me later that she responded, but the store employees only told her that someone was “looking for” me, and nothing more. Nothing about the phone, and I don’t think they connected her with this man, Wade, either! Too funny…

So, after asking Wade to leave it with the store, I decided to use the Find My Phone feature to lock the phone remotely, mostly just because I could. It turned out to be very unnecessary, as probably less than ten minutes later, Jen was calling me from our iPhone.

That was the last interesting piece of the story as, Jen later recalled, “When I got the phone back, it said on the screen, ‘This phone has been lost.’ How did it know that?!” Ha! She realized it was something I had done, but it was a funny moment for them all, thinking that the iPhone was a very smart smart phone!

I called Wade back and thanked him for his help in getting the phone back to us. And relayed some of the details of the very interesting day to him as well, which made him chuckle.

All in all, we were reunited with our iPhone, and I believe Ian might now think twice before asking to be responsible for that device. 🙂

by Greg

Backyard Ice Rink: Update 2013

Backyard ice rinkIt was the best of times, it was the worst of times…

Well, actually, this year it has not been the worst of times. Sure, we’ve had our travails, but nothing like last year.

This year’s version of the backyard ice rink has been much more successful thanks to wisdom gained from past experience (read: failures) and thanks in larger part to the weather actually cooperating this winter!

(Ice rinks will always fail when the temperature is rarely below freezing.)

In that we’ve had a much more normal winter, temperature-wise, we’ve been able to actually use our rink, and I think learn a bit more for next year, too. For example, we’ve been able to experiment with resurfacing the ice, keeping it cleaned off, and even learned that snow blowers are NOT an ice rink’s friend.

If you’ll recall, last year we (meaning, I) forgot to re-measure the rink dimensions after we extended it… leaving us very short with the pre-measured plastic! Oh boy! Then there was the 14-inch plus difference from one end of the rink to the other, leaving us with no water in one end of the rink.

Wow. We had plenty of issues last year.

There were some things we learned and improved this year, though.

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What Worked Well

We had plenty of lumber, a three-year supply of good quality plastic liner, and we moved the rink to a flatter section of our back yard. (Unfortunately that flatter section is a little smaller, so the rink measures roughly 20′ x 34′ this year. Last year it was more like 30′ x 42′, I believe.)

We were able to fill the flatter, smaller rink in less than a day (much shorter than last time) and we got it filled just before a string of sub-freezing days. And so, as you can see, we’ve been able to use our back yard ice rink this year! Fantastic!

ice

What Has NOT Worked…

Like last year, we’ve had our share of failures—though thankfully smaller. Failures are of course the best way to learn, so we’re reminding ourselves of the proverbial silver lining. In this case, I do believe it’s working. (Already looking forward to version 3.0 next winter!)

One thing we’ve learned is that, thought the flatter ground was great, it also happens to be under several trees. This is not a good idea. Throughout the winter so far, leaves and branches have regularly fallen down into the rink. The leaves are certainly unattractive; they are also trouble when they freeze into the ice near the surface. That leaves rough spots at least, and even cracked spots or bumps. Not good.

Also, when the rink was initally freezing, we got nearly two feet of snow dumped on us, all at once. This was good, except that the snow blower had to throw the snow somewhere …

You don’t want to throw it on your rink!!!

We had bumpy ice there for a month! Couldn’t get the ice smoothed out on the side where the snowblower had blown its snow. Definitely be careful with your snow blowing!

Lastly, when first setting up the rink, we have been using the plastic as a sort of “binding” for all the boards. This works fine once the water is in, but then you just have a strange, shallow pool in your backyard until the temperature gets below freezing. (And this allows for more leaves and sticks to collect on the bottom of your strange, shallow pool.) For some reason, I never considered not putting the plastic liner down until it was time to fill the rink! (Which can be done even after the temperature drops below freezing. (Might even be better that way?)

We have been able to use the hose to add layers of water, smoothing out the used and/or bumpy ice surface. That part is good… the bad part is when the hose gets left outside in sub-zero temperatures! Oops! We recovered the hose at the next thaw, but it was lost for a few weeks there.

girls-ice-skating

Live (Do) and Learn

That’s a funny phrase, “Live and learn” … it’s not actually true unless your “living” includes doing. So, we’ve been “doing” for a couple years now, and we have a fun winter of ice-capades to show for it, and several noggins full of backyard-ice-rink knowledge to put to good use next winter. We should have a fantastic rink in year three! Look out!

A quick check of the 10-day forecast shows plenty of lows in the 20s, so there should be some more ice rink fun in our near future. Nice!

If you like ice sports … we Campbells highly recommend you try this project in your own back yard!

hockey01

by Greg

Growing Up

Campbells long agoWe here at the Campbell home are experiencing the winds of change. I think perhaps we have been for quite a while now, but I’ve been noticing it again lately.

Life moves quickly. In some ways, too quickly.

For everything there is a season,
a time for every activity under heaven.
—Ecclesiastes 3:1

Yeah. That’s the other thing that keeps coming up: Seasons.

We live in a climate where the weather reminds us of the benefit of the cycle of seasons. From the snows that bury all of life in a fluffy blanket of white powder, to the beauty of spring in all its colorful splendor, to the heat of summer that produces a bounty of edible sunshine, to the more subdued colorful beauty of fall where we enjoy the harvest, the cooler days, and well… pretty much everything about fall! (Yes, that is my favorite!)

And just like there is beauty in every season of weather and the repeating cycles that are evidence of our never-ending annual circuit around the sun, there is beauty in every season of life in our home.

Campbells nowThe scene above was from another time. Those boys are fourteen and eleven and a half years old now. A decade of life has been lived. I’d have to call it a full decade, though I know that we could not possibly have lived more life than anyone else. But since I am the one who lived it, I have all the memories. I know all that has passed here in those years.

I know of the lives gained. (Do you see all those amazing people in the second picture here?) I know of the losses. I know of the successes and failures. I know of the dreams that were not realized, and the ones that were. (Including ones we didn’t initiate.)

As I pondered the current seasons I saw under our roof, I also thought ahead to the seasons that are now not too far off.

Ian, our oldest, is definitely in a different season—and so, then, are we with him—and in less than two years, he’ll be sixteen years old. He’s already developing his own strengths, and likes, and even goals and dreams for his life. He’s begun the transition toward his own adult life, to be sure. With aspirations of God bringing him a wife, and buying a home, and raising a family… I considered that all of that could quite feasibly occur even in the next decade.

That’s astounding!

I was then time-shifted a decade ahead, pondering that somewhat distant season. Cam, the youngest, would be a teenager. Thirteen years old, and the youngest of four teenagers.

Wait. Let’s let that sink in.

Is it still sinking? Go ahead… I’ll give you a moment. Yes, four teenagers. At one time. Under one roof.

Alright. Moving on …

At the same time, Alex will be about to turn twenty-one years old; a significant age in our culture. (Though we Campbells are not very much bound to any cultural expectations or limitations attached to chronological age. But that’s for another post…)

And Ian? He’ll be twenty-four years old.

When I was twenty-four, I was becoming a father. To Ian. (My dad became a father to me when he was twenty-four.)

So, when Ian has children… that means I will be Grandpa! Wowee!

At this point in my fancying the future, I decided I should slow down and return to the current season. It was getting a little too wacky! Time to return to the present and enjoy the current season!

But that’s just it. That’s the greatest thing about the seasons: we’re not really in one place for too long.

It’s been a (full) short decade since the two tiny boys were the only ones scurrying around our home. (And around the country at that point!) So much life was fit into that short time span. So much more will be lived in the years to come.

And who’s to say what that next decade will bring?

I can dream of what will be, but I can not know it. I don’t know what will happen to us or in us over the next season of life, nor do I even know if we will remain in this world. There’s never any guarantee of that.

So we fondly remember and relive the seasons we’ve come through, and we can even dream of seasons that may be, but with no assurance of what will come, the best place we can be is right here, right now; living fully in the season(s) of life right now.

I feel like this is an ever-present theme in my life, and so on this blog. Don’t you?

Perhaps it’s just the season I am in.

I don’t know what the future will hold, but as I approach the completion of four decades of life on this planet, I do know that it goes fast, and it’s full of really good and also really hard things.

And through it all, Father is with us.

That is our hope, and the one constant we have through all of these seasons.

I actually don’t mind getting older. It’s so amazing to watch life unfold before me. First my own, and all that Jesus wants me to know along my own path. Then in my marriage to Jen, watching him work in her, and in us. And after that to watch the seasons of life develop in our six children. What a privilege to be part of it, and to watch, encourage, train, and cheer on those young and growing lives.

At least, for this season.

And maybe a few more.

by Greg

Life Is In The Moments

emmas-lettersIt’s not uncommon to see some very cute things happening here in the Campbell household. There are, after all, several cute people, who often think of cute things to do. And so, there are many chances for cuteness!

Last night during dinner clean up, I happened to spot one.

Most times I might have corrected this, but somehow this time—lucky for me—I was able to see through the duty-shirking to the cuteness of the moment.

Emma is a “go-getter”. No way around that. She’s the one tugging on Mom to get her to practice reading with her. She picks up the pen, or the crayon—or the Sharpee® marker!—to practice writing her name. (And, being left-handed, as well as being three or four years old, she often has an interesting way of doing so. See below…)

emmas-personal-project

She had volunteered to help the “Clean Up Team” for the night, but shortly thereafter, a purple dry erase marker—her favorite color—caught her eye, and she knew just what she had to do.

I spotted her about half-way through the alphabet. Some letters were very well drawn, others were perfectly written—but backwards. (Commonplace for our little four-year-old beauty.) But there they were, painstakingly created with the greatest care for each stroke…

Upon the clean-up check list. 🙂

emma-toes

These are the fun moments, especially when I have the eyes of a Father more than a Task Master, when joy is free to be. The kitchen was still cleaned. Perhaps it was a tad slower minus the help of Emma’s tiny hands, but the task was still accomplished.

emmas-doodlesAnd Emma’s heart smiled at her accomplishment, and the joy of living in the moment.

And my heart was gladdened by it, too.

I hope that by posting it here, yours is also.

Look for these moments in your life. Whether you’re the one who spots the grand opportunity of a dry erase marker in your favorite color—and the perfect spot to put it to use—or you’re the one who gets to watch the joy of the moment unfold. (Or, maybe you’re the one who tells the tale to share the joy with others?)

Life is in the moments.

I’m so glad I didn’t miss this one last night.

by Greg

Sex Sells (Apparently)

Aerie Ad - Girl in lingerieI wouldn’t usually post such photos here. But I guess I’m trying to make a point.

Have we really gotten so used to seeing women in their underwear (or less) that it doesn’t even slightly surprise us?

(My hope is that when you saw the photo for this post on my website, you were surprised, or shocked. It hopefully seemed quite out of place. And it should.)

Last night my four-year-old daughter, Emma, and I walked through nearly the entirety of our local mall, and the volume of near-nudity prominently displayed in store fronts truly overwhelmed me. It was not hidden in the lingerie section near the back of a department store. Rather, right out in front, for every passer by.

I did some research when we got home and found out that there are an inordinate amount of lingerie stores in our mall. It could be that this is the reason that there are so many super-over-sized revealing photos, but still, you can’t walk down nearly any corridor of the mall without being bombarded by boobs.

Aerie storefront display - Girls in lingerie

I know I sound old saying this, but… I don’t remember this when I was a kid!

(Yep. Old.)

Now you can be shopping at the Apple Store for an iPad mini and get an eyeful of what amounts to “soft porn” at the same time. (There’s another “intimate apparel” store across the hall from our Apple Store.)

Am I overreacting here? I’m not sure. I am a guy, of course, and scantily clad, beautiful women do have a certain appeal, but what is that appeal? Certainly it is to my flesh—the part of me that is supposed to be dead. We are all well aware, however, that it still fights for life.

Jesus said that adultery is wrong, but that a man looking at a woman lustfully is just the same (since sin is a heart issue, before it’s a behavior issue) … but, I’m not sure that’s why I feel uncomfortable strolling the halls of the mall. (There wasn’t any lustful looking going on.)

I am more uncomfortable when my boys are with me. Aged 14 and 11 1/2, the internal chemicals are beginning to and have already worked their magic and the appeal of women dressed in little, even posed suggestively many times, well… that’s not something I want to test my boys’ will power on. And all to just find a new favorite well-used video game?

Last night it was Emma, who was certainly taking it all in. Once she said, “More bras! Ha!” (Yes, she’s awesome.) So I’m not really sure what she thinks about it, but she at least finds it somewhat humorous.

spencers

But I think in the end, I just find it sad. Near the end of our mall tour we passed Spencer’s. This particular window display was the most overt of all the stores in their attempt (in my opinion) to use sex to sell. (They might even more be selling sex, not simply lingerie, but…) I actually shook my head at their forwardness, and quickly moved along. Later when I was looking for store displays online to share with you here, I discovered that when you click the above banner—taken from their website, but this was also the current store front display—you have to consent to viewing adult material before going further into their site. So, perhaps they aren’t even trying to hide the soft porn part?

(Note: I actually do remember that my mom would direct us past and cast doubt upon the goodness of Spencer’s stores in our various malls. Though I do think we darkened their door a time or two along the way. I think my sister liked some of the stuff in there? I do not remember such displays in their front windows… but I do have this inner, red warning light regarding their establishment. Perhaps this is not a new development.)

What I think all of this reveals about us (yes, pun intended) is a culture that is certainly progressing more and more towards debauchery. Again, I know that I sound old suggesting that “my generation” wasn’t as perverse as “this generation”, and to an extent, I’m sure I’m wrong. People are people. We’re all dead in sin, none of us can escape that; one generation’s societal moral superiority notwithstanding.

But I really do think this is a symptom of a deeper sickness.

Families are now horribly rent asunder: rampant divorce, children outside marriage, multiple parents (but really no parents), gay marriage, abortion… they are all signs of our inner moral corruption and decay.

So it makes sense that we’d continue to feed our flesh—the part of us that drives this decay—and even progressively think less and less of it, allowing it to have more of a hold on us.

We’re naked under our clothes. (Did you know that?) Nakedness is not the sin. The way it’s used to appeal to our selfish, fleshly, worldly desires can be, and those desires can be. Paul said, “All things are permissible, but not all things are beneficial.” Perhaps that applies here.

I don’t think I’m talking about the over-sized posters, though.

It seemed so blatantly obvious last night on our walk through the mall that these are symptoms of a culture-wide decline; gradually slipping more and more toward full worldliness, and farther away from godliness. It makes sense, of course, as culturally we have been removing God from everyday life for several generations now. It’s certainly bound to happen this way.

I know I sound old. (And, I kind of am!) This generation is worse off morally than mine, but maybe not than my parents’ generation? (The sixties, hippies, etc? Could be we improved from that?) And we will continue the downward trend until, as individuals, and families, and then as a society we allow God to resume his rightful position as Father and leader and provider and all that he is and wants to be to us.

Until then, it shouldn’t surprise me what is displayed in the large windows of our public marketplaces. If we continue this way, it wouldn’t be shocking to see actual nudity soon, as well as much more sexual images.

This really is the visible symptoms of a deeper issue.

I want to say, “And I hope for our society’s sake that we turn to Jesus and live full lives as he intended us to!” … but I wonder if that’s my wrong thinking about “life to the full”. Life to the full is messy. We are messy, broken, sinners. We are in a broken world, and though we can experience a taste of true, unbroken life, we are still here, in this mess. And that will never change, until we’re not. So, no matter how much we, as a society, might turn to Jesus … the deeper issue here (not the symptoms) is part of the bigger picture of “full life” that God intended. I think.

That doesn’t mean I have to traverse the mall corridors, though. 🙂

I’ll finish by saying that I hope wherever you are right now, you know the Father, the One True God, and Jesus Christ whom he sent (John 17:3) and that you know his abundant grace and life and are living that fully and free from guilt and condemnation and judgement (John 3:17) … because that is how we’re meant to be.

(Clothed, or not.)

Note: The photos in this post are mostly taken from the retailers’ websites. My iPhone camera was not doing a good job capturing the images I wanted to use for this post. All of these images here were on display in three-times-real-life size in the store windows, as well as dozens more.

by Greg

Christianity, or Jesus? (Aren’t They the Same?)

Our family is currently making our way through the book of Luke together. We’re taking our time, but I do enjoy reading in larger chunks, so we will often read what might be the subject of an entire series of sermons in one sitting.

Tonight, we read through the fifteenth chapter: the three stories of lost and found.

Though we’d often read more than that, it’s such a good three-part story—with the most famous, the Prodigal Son story at the end—that I thought it would be nice to stop and discuss.

The kids are reading and learning about “unreached people groups” with Mom during the school days, and both of the older boys picked up on the “lost” theme that Jesus’ stories held.

When I asked what everyone heard in Jesus’ stories, Ian replied first, “I think it shows that God cares about every single person: if even one in a thousand is lost, there’s a celebration when he realizes he’s wrong and returns to God.”

“Yep. So right, Ian.” I affirmed.

Alex chimed in next, “Or, like if one person in the 10 million in Japan who are buddhists or other things turn to Christianity. It’s like that, even.”

I smiled and affirmed Alex’s insightful answer, too. But something didn’t sit right with me, the way he had phrased that answer.

Ian and Mom both explained what they had been studying—unreached people groups—and I realized what it was that bothered me: the lost returning home story is not about conversions to Christianity, it’s about the Good News that Jesus is life and nothing else.

I tried to lovingly expand on that thought to Alex, but I guess maybe it didn’t come out quite right. Jen didn’t think I was saying it correctly, and by offering further instruction at that time, kinda squashed Alex.

jesus-christ-in-stained-glassAnd, honestly, she doesn’t really agree with my instruction, that Christianity is not the same as Jesus.

I told Alex that the somewhat subtle distinction between someone “turning to Christianity” and someone meeting Jesus (The One true God and Jesus Christ whom he sent) are often, even usually very different things.

One is a religion. Plain and simple, Christianity is not in the Bible. (Really! It’s true!) In this sense, Christianity is no different than Islam, Buddhism, Hindu, and so on. Jesus never talked about establishing a religion (though he did mention building the Church) and I can’t think of anywhere that the word “Christianity” or “Christendom” can be found on the pages of Scripture. (Though other people called the Church, “Christians”—Acts 11, and Acts 26—the only other occurrence of the word is in 1 Peter 4:16.)

Returning to a loving Father is a different story. Realizing our need to be connected to the Vine; understanding the limitless, boundless love that God has for us, wanting from before the foundation of the world to adopt us as his own children; understanding how the cross restores our friendship with God by destroying sin and death and shame once and for all…

That’s a different story. (And doesn’t “sign you up” for anything.)

Now, I’m certainly painting with too broad a brush right now. Firstly, only a chapter or two before, Jesus addressed his disciples and the crowds following him, making sure they understood the cost of being his disciple. The cost is… everything. He said we need to be willing to give up everything (even family, wealth/possessions, a home), even our own life.

But the key is, nothing else matters outside of his Life. Nothing.

And that’s the point. Converting to a religion often satisfies our own accomplishable goals and benchmarks. There are “measurables” with Christianity. You can check things off like, reading your Bible, or having quiet time, joining a prayer group, or some other “small group”, going to services, volunteering for a ministry… or five ministries. All of those things can become “feathers” in our caps.

Jesus asks us to volunteer to be last, though. To not be noticed. To give up our dreams, turn the other cheek… all of that. And all because there is nothing we need or could ever want more than to know him.

Paul knew that, and wrote:

Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ. —Phil 3:8

Honestly, I could be convinced that I’m straining out gnats here. OR, I could be convinced that this is the pivotal, most important, fundamental part of the Gospel: Jesus matters.

It’s him. And nothing else. Not a religion (Christianity), not a building or an organization (First Christian Church of Wherever), and not even a set of benchmarks that you set up for yourself to take your spiritual temperature.

Do you trust him? Then you’re in. And your life will never be the same. If you believe that Jesus is Immanuel, God made flesh, the Christ, the Way, the Truth, and the Life… buckle up!

That might be the same to you as “Christianity”, and if that’s the case, I’m really glad. My experience has been different. We people are good at maintaining control, and I think Jesus wants—longs for—us to relinquish that. Most often systems with fancy names—Christianity—don’t allow any room for that to happen, and even worse, they keep us in the “performance” mindset, where we’re always trying to “do better… for God, of course…

But Jesus’ words were always simply, “Follow me.”

I think it might really be that simple.

by Greg

The Adventures of Zamboni® and Policeman

Zamboni® Ice Cleaning Machine

We love to read around here. There are books everywhere, and lots of hands, minds, and eyes to devour them. Mom and Dad both love books, love to read… more than we have time in our days to actually accomplish.

Ian, the oldest child, is a ravenous book reader. (And now, he’s becoming a writer of books as well.) Alex is more picky; the books he enjoys, though, are read multiple times—even in the same week. Kirstie is learning to love reading, but does love books (being read to), as do her three younger siblings. Julia is not a confident reader yet, but her four-year-old sister, Emma, was brashly sounding out each letter and word she could locate on the large pages of her over-sized book with Mom last night.

Cameron, not being one content to be left out, and possessing as vivid an imagination as a three year old person could hope to have, decided to “read” his own book. (He picked up a blank date book, showing me the “words” on the empty pages before he began reading.)

The following is, nearly verbatim, the story that he “read” on those pages…

zamboni-and-policeman-01

The Adventures of Zamboni® & Policeman

by Cameron J. Campbell

Zamboni® was cleaning the ice.
But then he ran out of water!
He had lots of water, but just didn’t know it.
Then he had a dream about having enough water and cleaning the ice.
Policeman shot Zamboni®.
Zamboni® ate policeman.
The End!

That was too fantastic not to share! I sure hope there will be more “Adventures of Zamboni® and Policeman!”

zamboni-and-policeman-02

Note: Cam adores Zamboni® ice cleaning machines. We go early and stay late for Ian’s hockey games, just so Cam can watch the entire ice cleaning process by the Zamboni®. I’m pretty sure he knows most of the drivers at each rink, and someday aspires to attain to their lofty position. 🙂 He also often fancies himself a police man, so the subjects of his book were certainly no surprise to his family.

by Greg

Please and Thank You

Thank YouOne thing that our son Cameron is good at is common courtesies. He’s very good at remembering to say “please”, and he’s nearly flawless with “thank you”, and he’s famous for his, “Wehcm.” (That’s his version of “you’re welcome”, said quickly with an emphasis on the harder “m” sound to end the word.)

Not sure why he picked up on the practice more than the other children, but it comes natural to him, whereas it’s less so among his siblings.

This past weekend I was talking with our niece about life as a big family. She has said before, and maintains still, that she wants to have lots of kids some day. (And many times hence I have brought up that topic, to ascertain what would create such a desire in her…) 🙂 I mentioned to her that I’ve learned through the years (especially since our family has grown larger) that patience is a huge key to life as a large family.

“Do you feel like you’re a patient person?” I asked her.

“Well, yes… unless they don’t behave,” replied she.

(Now, stop! It’s not nice to snicker!)

She added, “Like, your kids. They are the most well-behaved kids I know!”

After letting a quick laugh escape from my lips, I informed her that they are definitely not always “well-behaved”. In fact, many and sundry images of that non-well-behaved behavior flashed into my mind as I uttered those words. And I remembered why I said patience is very important…

“You know,” I continued, “One thing—maybe, the thing—we really try to stress with our kids is to think of other people: consider others more than yourself. I think that’s probably a reason that you saying they are the ‘best behaved kids’.”

She agreed, and we talked a bit more, but I dwelled on that thought a bit. I wondered if maybe that is the core of what I want to pass along to our kids.

Certainly I want them to know Jesus, and to learn to listen to Father and walk in step with the Spirit. And I want them to understand the Good News, that ‘while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us’; and, ‘So now we can rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with God because our Lord Jesus Christ has made us friends of God.’; and that, ‘Even before he made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in his eyes. God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ. This is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure.’

That’s most important, and I believe when we know that—at our core, as our foundation—then we are more able, more ready to consider others. When we are valued, we can more properly value others.

And, at least in some way, I hope that Cameron’s simple expressions of courtesy show not only his consideration and respect for others, but that it evidences at least the beginnings of a deeper reality from whence such behavior has its source. And similarly that the ‘good behavior’ exhibited by his siblings is a fruit of a deeper root rather than a mere act of habit or will.

That is my hope. And my goal.

As I thought of this today, I decided to make homemade Thank You cards for all of my kids (and Jen) for the Christmas gifts they thoughtfully purchased, wrapped, and gave to me. I drew a little Christmassy drawing on the front of each and wrote a one- or two- sentence personal greeting inside.

Cam has had a really hard day today, so when I first saw him (after a work day in my office) he was crying and very frustrated. After making sure I had his attention, I gave him his card, and asked if he’d like me to read it to him. He agreed, and when I did, a smile came across his face and he asked me to read it again. And then again. His countenance was very much lighter, and I made his day just by saying a personal Thank You. (And I don’t think his card even had a “Thank You” in it! Ha!)

Little things matter, to be sure. And even more so if they come from a bigger, deeper foundation of thinking of others more than yourself.

Don’t be selfish; don’t try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourselves. Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.

Treat others in the same way that you would want them to treat you.

A simple please and/or thank you is a good step in that direction. (Or a good evidence of a deeper peace where such courtesy has its origin.)

I hope you have a chance offer this simple courtesy—or maybe be on the receiving end—sometime soon.

And… Thank you for reading. 🙂

by Greg

Real Stuff

I am not a food or nutrition “nut”. (And I can’t imagine I’d ever be accused of being so.) But I do keep moving more and more toward making sure that I and my family are eating actual food. Both because of health, and because of taste!

However, there are some holiday traditions (and family traditions) that transcend the “eat real food” principle.

Cool Whip would be one of them.

Much of the fluffy white stuff was consumed atop much pumpkin pie over the past two days (and likely more will be today). There was mention of perhaps purchasing real whipped cream, but that idea was quickly chastised, and Cool Whip was the one and only choice.

And I do admit, it does not taste bad. But as I sampled it, I thought, This doesn’t even have any milk in it, does it? To my surprise, it does: Skim milk and a small amount of light cream. Still, when you see the rest of the ingredients—and you know that whipped cream, at least from scratch, is just whipped heavy cream, and maybe vanilla—you do begin to wonder why anyone would put this substance inside their bodies…

Friday was leftover day, and that meant copious amounts of turkey were consumed throughout the day. Well, what is turkey without mashed potatoes, right? Due to other events scheduled for the day (Ian’s playing in a hockey tournament, and he had two games on Friday!) there was not time to properly address the lack of mashed potatoes problem. Being resourceful—and apparently lax in principle—I grabbed the box of instant mashed potatoes we had sitting in our pantry. (I think it may have been a gift from some friends last Thanksgiving!)

As I was making the fake potatoes, I thought of several things. First, Jen and I used to eat these regularly when we were first married. I think that’s because, second, my Mom used to make potatoes from a box when I was a teenager. (Maybe younger, too.) She makes the real stuff for all holiday family gatherings, now, though. I don’t think I made real mashed potatoes until just a few years ago. Now that’s all that I make, exclusively (…except when we have this box, and we’re in a hurry.) 🙂

When they were finished and I whipped up the little flakes into what resembled mashed potatoes (though somewhat plasticky/rubbery) I recounted those thoughts to my kids as we ate them. Again, they didn’t taste bad—in fact, our eight- and six-year olds sang their praises—but all I could think about was what a bad substitute they are. And I wondered, too, if the list of ingredients could be as crazy as Cool Whip?

Well, let’s have a look at the two pseudo foods I’ve mentioned here, shall we?

Cool Whip

Water, hydrogenated vegetable oil (coconut & palm kernel oils), high fructose corn syrup, corn syrup, skim milk, (<2%...) light cream, sodium caseinate, natural and artificial flavor, xanthan and guar gums, polysorbate 60, sorbitan monostearate, sodium polyphosphate, beta carotene (color).

Instant Mashed Potatoes

Idaho® potatoes, with emulsifier (mono and diglycerides from vegetable oil) and preservative (sodium acid pyrophosphate, sodium bisulfite, citric acid, mixed tocopherols).

Note: The potatoes we had were the Aldi brand, Chef’s Cupboard (I think), and not Hungry Jack. But I figured they’re close enough for the representative photo.

After I read those lists of ingredients to the kids, I got out the bag of potatoes and read the “ingredients” on that: Potatoes. (And we had mentioned that whipped cream is just cream, again, one thing, with maybe some flavoring.)

“Which of those sounds more like something you would eat?” I asked with a knowing smile.

“The potatoes,” said a chorus of children in confident unison.

So my final question here is, what is wrong with us? Why do we put that stuff in our bodies? Is it only because it’s cheaper? Easier? Is it really because of the taste? (I can answer for my wife on the whipped topping question: YES, the TASTE!) 🙂

I find it so fascinating that we treat our bodies this way. It’s not really that difficult to make mashed potatoes from real ingredients, nor obviously to make whipped cream (you just, whip… cream?) but our culture makes icons out of the fake stuff. Fascinating.

Well, aside from some family and holiday traditions that just can’t be broken, we will continue towards eating more and more real stuff. (Including things we grow ourselves!)

And I imagine our bodies will thank us for it.

by Greg

Special Moments

Some days just have those moments.

Today has had plenty. (And not all good ones, mind you.)

Jen had a super-frustrating day with (she said) every one of the kids, who just wouldn’t listen to her at all. They only wanted what they wanted when they wanted it. Eventually, she just couldn’t take it anymore and walked away from what she was trying to do, attempting to clear her head.

(It was during this time that Jen decided to make soup, which is something she wouldn’t usually do, and without a recipe, which is something she definitely wouldn’t do! The best part? It turned out great! Was a nice “moment” for Jen to enjoy a great (tasty) bit of success in an otherwise hard day.)

At dinner, we came to another moment where I erupted into a very intense monologue full of very direct, clear reminders of things we’ve taught the kids since they came into this world. Very direct. Pretty loud. And I meant every word of it.

That was a moment.

Then Mom went out for the evening to do some shopping, but mainly to “clear her head”. Much needed, and hopefully she is being refreshed. (I’ll find out when she gets home!)

As the clean-up team took care of the kitchen (and the other two took care of the other rooms) I bathed the youngest two. They really needed it.

(Note: I am quite sick. Nasty head cold, stuffy, bad cough, just keep saying, “My head feels weird…” So… that makes for a more interesting bath time. Oh, and Cam is just as sick as me!)

That was a moment. (But not too bad, actually.)

The girls got their baths, and I got everyone dressed for bed and hair brushed and all that must be done. Then Alex got his quick shower and we were ready for the evening activity.

Tonight, it was singing.

I got my guitar, and a box of chord charts for worship songs, and we just started playing through them. Some the kids knew, most they didn’t. But that didn’t stop them from singing. And dancing. And smiling. And really LOUD singing!

That was a moment. A different sort of moment. (A heart-smile kind of moment.)

I encouraged Ian to get his bass guitar out, and Alex converted a plastic pumpkin trick-or-treat bucket into a percussive instrument, and suddenly we had a band. And even though we didn’t know the song to begin with, by the end of one song Julia had a huge smile on her face… and tears on her cheeks.

“I’m crying!” says little Julia Gayle. “Why are you crying, Julia?” I asked gently. “It’s just because of the singing!” She almost couldn’t believe that music could do that to you, but at the same time, she knew deep within her that it did do that to her.

That was a moment.

Then came bedtime. We usually play with a Dad-animated stuffed friend at some point. Tonight it was the stuffed friend, Baboo. (Cam’s name for his little red-white-and-blue doggie.) We laughed, we had fun, we hugged (Cam wanted two hugs..) and we prayed together for our family.

That was another moment. (After which Cam wanted another hug…)

Days are full of moments. Some are good, some are “eh”, and some are pretty bad (or really bad). I feel like today kinda had all of those for us. Maybe most days do. Sometimes we get tricked into focusing on the bad moments though and we miss the little good ones that are still there, or can be there if and when we look for them.

They’re there. They were for us tonight.

Keep your heart and mind and eyes fixed on Jesus, and he’ll show you the moments. He’s in the moments, actually. All of them.

And if we know that—and live that—that is what makes them special.