Category / Family

by Greg

[From The Archive] Feeling Loved, And Lovable

Highlighting Articles from the GregsHead.net Archives!This week’s trip into the Archive will be much shorter than last week’s (sorry about the link overload with that one!) Maybe because there’s been so much to read here lately that I want to give you a break…

But probably more because the content of this previously-posted article is beautiful in its simplicity.

I’m not talking about my words, or any idea I’ve had. It’s the core of the message Jesus spoke. We are loved.

Better yet, we are love-able. Worth loving.

And he does. With great pleasure.

Enjoy your visit to the Archive. May it encourage you again. And again.

You are worth it.

Feeling Loved, And Lovable
[link]

by Greg

Always Be Thankful

“And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body you are called to live in peace. And always be thankful.“

I have recently been reminded of the book One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. I read the first half or so, and then it got buried under many other reads over the past months, nearing a year.

Jen loves her blog, and last year (maybe even more than a year?) purchased Ann’s book and connected deeply with the themes developed within its pages. She quoted much of the book to me in small snippets as she read it. Then she suggested I read it—or, maybe I even just wanted to on my own, both on her somewhat “unspoken” recommendation and because since Jen so identified with it, I knew I’d find some more of my wife’s heart in those pages.

And I did. And the book was saying what we needed to hear—probably what we all always need to hear.

Be thankful. Always.

The scripture quoted above is from Colossians 3:15. Definitely one of the books of the Bible that most resonates with me. I quote often from it. I have several songs that are based on truths Paul shared in his letter to the Colossian Christians. So much great truth found in those few pages.

These couple of verses have been meaningful recently as we have really needed peace. And he has given it. Deep peace. But it’s meaningful beyond the more difficult times of life, even in the ordinary. Especially for a large family with many youngsters like ours. “You are called to live in peace.” Yes, children… you are. And sometimes they do. Sometimes they don’t. But the source of peace—inner and outer—is obvious from the first sentence. It’s Jesus. When his peace rules in our hearts, then it overflows to the people in our family—whether by blood or by spiritual family connection.

But one of the shortest sentences from the whole letter might be most meaningful to our lives.

And always be thankful.

Sounds like an afterthought. “Oh yeah… don’t forget…” But it’s somehow the foundation of our joy, our happiness, our Life. So much junk in life: our own, our family members’, junk from other people around us, and just the junk that is beyond anyone’s control. But somehow—when we can transcend the hurt, often by a simple trust in the person most worthy of trust—we can even be grateful for the junk.

Jen read a story for us recently from another book she just finished (The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom) which was also about “always be[ing] thankful”. In summary, while detained by German soldiers in a flea-infested and otherwise nearly uninhabitable room, Corrie’s sister discovered the key to the Life God wanted for them was to be thankful—for everything. That meant even the fleas. Corrie reluctantly agreed to be thankful for all things, even the ones that seemed to have absolutely no value at all.

Much later, looking back on everything, they realized (or learned?) that the guards had left them almost entirely to themselves because of the fleas! They were able to pray, have and read from their Bible, and have many freedoms they might not have otherwise had… because of the fleas. And they lived life a bit more fully because they were thankful for something that seemed only awful, even without knowing how it could be used for good.

Now several days later, at bedtime, after a day with some hard things in it, I decided to ask the girls to share some things they liked about the day, and some things that were hard or sad from the day. They came up with both fairly easily, with only slightly more thought put into choosing the one thing they found most difficult from the day just lived. Once we all had shared our favorite and maybe least favorite moments from the day I said, “OK, now let’s tell God how we are thankful for those things.”

I started out with the good, and then repeated back the things that each of us had highlighted as our difficult or bad thing from the day. When I got to Julia’s she was surprised that I strung together “thank you” and her bad part of the day. I smiled at her and asked if she remembered the flea story that Mom told earlier. A light of recognition flashed in her eyes and she said, “Oh yeah! Like the fleas! They were bad, but then they kept the soldiers away so they could pray!”

Yes! Like the fleas!

And so we continued, thankful even for the harder parts of the day. And sleep came quickly, and peacefully.

They are not magic words, that somehow make us cheery and unnaturally full of joy despite current circumstances. But it is a somewhat magic truth. When we can implement them, like the Ten Booms, we can know peace. And even joy.

And thankfulness.

Ann Voskamp uses the refrain Eucharisteo in her book. The Greek “give thanks”. The words, the idea–but even more, the action—have power. A power to give us life, from the One who is Life.

It comes from our perspective. Thankfulness gets the focus off of us, and onto him. He is the source of our Life, and hope, and every good thing. (Even when we can’t yet see goodness.)

That’s not to say there isn’t still junk. Or that some junk is just plain bad.

But always be thankful. That’s the succinct afterthought from Paul’s email to new believers that can still bring us much more of the life Jesus wants for us to live. One where we see goodness in the craziest places. Even where it doesn’t seem good, or isn’t good. We have hope, and we trust his goodness.

And we can always be thankful.

by Greg

Imitation: The Highest Form of Flattery

Tonight at the dinner table, our youngest boy—who bears a good deal of physical resemblance to his Daddy—was particularly tuned in to my every move. He was watching (and mimicking) everything that I did. When I leaned forward onto my elbows to rest my head in my hands and wipe the tired of the recent past from my face, so did Cam. Whichever way I moved, just about any posture I assumed, Cam followed to near perfection.

It didn’t take me long to notice, and when I did, well, I was certainly heartened by his quite evident love for his me, his Dad.

They say imitation is the highest form of flattery, and I guess maybe “they” are right.

Paul also said that the people whom he introduced to Jesus should “imitate [him] as [he] imitate[s] Christ”. That thought came to my mind, and I hope that’s just as easy for them to see and to follow as my physical motions at the table.

The best part was when, once he knew that I knew he was imitating me—though for this moment, I had momentarily forgotten—I moved my dish aside, being done with my food. Moments later, Cameron moved his dish in front of me. Typically, when this happens it means he’s refusing to eat more (even though he probably still should). However, once I saw where he had placed it, it was exactly the same amount to his right as I had placed my dish! 🙂

Still makes my face and heart smile as I recall and type the story here. Such a sweet boy.

In truth, it happens quite often, the imitating. More than I’d like. Often I’m quite glad for it, and I hope that it continues. But other times it’s too revealing. It can be unpleasant to hear the way your tone returns to your ears through the mouth of your biggest 2-year-old fan. But, a mirror can also be your best friend. I am thankful for the mirror that my kids can be for me.

Firstborn son, Ian, is more like me than I admit at times. He is creative, talented, gregarious, frequently charming, and also stubborn, confident to the point of arrogance, and often unteachable. At times, I am like all of that, too—the good and the bad.

During a recent clash of our similar personalities, where I felt (maybe incorrectly) that I needed to press Ian on his apparently unteachable/rebellious position or attitude toward me at that moment, I asked, “Ian, what is going on? Why are you being like this right now? Why do you have no humility at all?” He quickly responded, “I really have a hard time being humble!”

Slightly taken aback by his astute observation and open admission, I paused, but only slightly.

Though there was only a slight moment in which Ian’s words were allowed to resonate, his sister, Kirsten—more than five years his younger—managed to slip in the kindest, and perhaps most profound words of encouragement recently spoken in our home.

“That was humble, Ian.”

The kindness and pure, caring heart revealed both by her choice of words and her delivery of them, as well as the depth of understanding of the concept of humility that was evidenced by her quick assessment is overwhelming to me. In the midst of what had been a very draining, tense, frustrating series of moments for me (and everyone else, I think) she spoke such words of life that I had to encourage her, “Kirstie, I think those were the wisest, kindest words I’ve heard spoken here today. Thank you.”

There is beauty in our brokenness. In the moments where we are weak we can be lifted up. Either by someone else who is somehow less weak for that moment, or by God himself whose grace makes us strong, even—especially?—when we are weak. Sometimes the truth of that is revealed in the words, from the heart, of a seven year old girl, or by the actions of a two year old boy.

I hope that I am mostly characterized by a love and grace—toward my kids (and wife) directly, as well as toward every person that I might interact with—that overflows from the Life I have in me in Jesus. I am not him, and I can not be perfect. I will choose poorly, I will fail. But even in my brokenness, I hope that my kids will get to follow my example as I follow Jesus. Even in the way that I handle the images I see in the mirror: be they glass, or flesh.

Imitation is the highest form of flattery. Perhaps children are the highest form of imitation.

This day, I am so thankful for the mirrors God has given me.

Bible references above are from 1 Corinthians 11, and 2 Corinthians 12.

by Greg

Just Sickening

Sickness has invaded the Campbell home once again. We really aren’t sick all that much here, but we have of course had our bouts with various illnesses (illni?) over the years. When they hit us, they tend to stick around and cycle through all the warm bodies here a time or two.

Thankfully this time we’re just dealing with stuffy and/or runny noses. (Only a tiny bit of stomach bug, and that only for poor Emma. Throwing up sick is the worst!) But, yesterday I got my “taste” of it, and lemme tell you, it’s nothing to sneeze at.

(HA! Puns…)

I woke up (or tried to) at around 7:45am and had a massive pressure headache. Yuck! In that no children were yet awake, I tried to get back to sleep. A while later, I was awakened by normal morning commotion, and still didn’t feel that great. After a very slow shower and then just sitting on our bed waiting for the fog to lift, I realized this wasn’t going away any time soon.

I guzzled some daytime cold medicine and hoped that would do it. Nope. After more sitting, head still just aching, I grabbed a pillow and fell asleep sitting up on the couch. Finally just moved back to bed and crashed there for a couple hours.

The rest of the day was sort of blurry. I remember thinking many times that I wasn’t quite sure what I was doing!

And all this from just a “little runny nose”! Ugh.

So, this post will be shortened in order for its writer to get some proper rest.

For your entertainment (seriously… it was a funny read just now, since we’re not in the middle of it) I’d recommend from March of 2009, You Can’t Make This Stuff Up, Folks.

Enjoy!

(And drink your OJ!)

by Greg

First And Second Birthdays

Yesterday was my Mom’s birthday. January 26th is a circled day on the calendar that our family celebrates. Has been for as long as I have memories. All day long, we think of my Mom. We call, we video chat, we send cards… we celebrate the life she began on January 26th, 19xx. 🙂

(I don’t know that my Mom has any real problem with me sharing her age, but… just in case… since she reads this blog … Suffice it to say that this year her two-digit age ends with a zero! So in some ways it was an even more memorable/special year.)

I love my Mom and love celebrating her birthday! (Even if we’re not in the same location on the birthday day.)

At some point during that day I was reminded that the 26th of January is also the birth day of our good friend’s Mom. She, too was born on the twenty-sixth day of the first month of the year. If I recollect correctly, she was even born in the same state, not far from where my Mom was born. She too has children who love her, and many grandkids.

But she has another birthday.

A little over a decade ago, she was born into her eternal life. She is now with Jesus. So her birthday is celebrated at least a little differently than the way we celebrate January 26th here, where we can still show our love and see it received, and given back.

It’s better to be with the Lord. The Bible tells us so. But I’d imagine first birthdays are at least a little harder when the one birthed has had their second birthday already, and you’re left celebrating without them.

This week I’ve also been thinking of our friends who are coming up on the one-year anniversary of a second birthday. Tomorrow will be one year since our friends lost a Dad and a Husband and a Grandpa; and since we lost someone who was becoming a good friend.

Death leaves such an absence. It’s hard to celebrate the second birthdays. Again, it’s better to be with the Lord, but that truth seems distant when the life so suddenly changes, and the void is so clearly known and seen and felt.

I know it’s been rough again lately for our friend who lost her Dad. (And I know for many years our friend who lost her Mom has missed her so dearly on many occasions, more than just first and second birthdays.)

It definitely makes me value the days that I have now with my Mom, who’s still only had her first birthday.

The hope that we have runs deep. I know and trust that once we have both passed the threshold into our eternal life, I won’t have to live or think about living life without my Mom in my life. That is a great hope.

But I’ll say it again: for now, on at least some levels, I’m very glad my Mom is still only one.

I rejoice for the lives of the two parents I know, mentioned above, who are missed yesterday and tomorrow. They loved well and are still well loved. I am praying peace now for the kids who miss their beloved parents on their first and second birthdays respectively. But I already know they have hope. And in that I also rejoice.

This talk of “second birthdays” has a bit of a morbid undertone, but if you know our Jesus, it’s a wonderful thing when you turn two.

It’s just harder for all the one-year-olds who are still waiting for their own second birthday.

It will come. And then others will both mourn and rejoice on our two birthdays. And we will celebrate with all of the ones we loved who went before us.

What a birthday party that will be.

Note: This photo of my Mom is slightly dated, but it’s a good one, with several of our kids loving their Grammy. There are not many photos of my Mom in existence, and I’m nearly certain this is the only one published online! So, I might get in a tiny bit of trouble, but… I know she still loves me. Right, Mom? 🙂

by Greg

Project: Backyard Ice Rink (Part 4)

A few people have been asking, “So how’s that ice rink of yours doing?”

In that most of them live in the same region that we do, and have experienced this unusually warm winter along with us, I usually give them a wry smile and then gauge whether they are truly up for the full story, or not.

I usually gather that they are not able or interested in the full story, or, truthfully, usually I don’t have the time or energy at that moment to utter much more than, “Yeah… sure has been a crazy winter, eh?”

But here, I will close out the Winter of 2012 Campbell Family Backyard Ice Rink story.

As you know if you read parts 1, 2, and 3 of this story, we’ve had our share of difficulties besides the lack of freezing temperatures. (Since the two days of bitter cold days early this month when we filled the rink with water, there have been only 7 days where the high temperature was at or below freezing. And, there were highs in the 50s! In Rochester, NY!)

So clearly, that has been a problem.

But as was mentioned previously, the grade of our land being greater than we anticipated, along with the plastic not being large enough for the rink we made… and then, our attempts to bond two pieces of very un-equal plastic sheets together being thwarted by two ridiculous windstorms ripping apart the seam we had so tenuously bonded.

Ugh. It’s been one thing after another. Simply astonishing. Stymied at every turn, which does tend to get you down a bit… and nearly give up trying.

BUT. And that was a big BUT.

Our kids still love it.

They have been out on the half-rink of ice as many times as they could. Whether using skates or just boots, they play a few periods of hockey, work on their tight turns, or just have the winter fun we were hoping to have in our back yard!

We are really ready for next year!

Really! We’ve learned so much, we know exactly what to do to make the best ice rink (that we can afford!) in Wayne county! We’re excited to try it out. I think we might have the rink ready to go by Thanksgiving weekend next winter!

We have everything we need for our raised gardens in the spring!

We attempted to plant a garden with many great veggies in our back yard a few years back. Much to our chagrin, most of the plants did not do well at all. (I think we harvested seven tomatoes!) By a stroke of curious luck, I happened to see an article in a newspaper from my hometown of Springfield, OH that described all of the trouble we had been having, and attributed it directly to walnut trees. Bingo! We have (too) many walnut trees on our property and several adjacent ones!

So, in a subsequent summer we did cultivate a few self-contained tomato plants on our deck, which was fine, but we wanted to do more. Our best idea was to build raised gardens, but we needed to buy wood, and plastic to hold the dirt and compost and such (and keep it away from the walnut tree roots).

WELL, enter our “ice” rink! We were wondering where we’d store it all summer… and now we know!

When life deals you lemons …

So it’s not been the joy we thought it would be, but we really have no complaints. We’re glad we did it, and it’s fun to see the silver linings listed above. There are several.

There always are.

by Greg

Do I Have A Dream?

The Campbell Family

This week the well-known refrain, “I have a dream!” echoed from the lips of a man who changed the world. We are all quite familiar with the speech. Powerful words, and stirring delivery by a great orator. But the heart of what Martin Luther King declared on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial one late summer’s day nearly fifty years ago was that he had a dream.

Dreams are something that sits at the core of us and is our every motivation, the very fiber of us. His dream was to see all men treated equally. Every person judged by the content of their character, not the color of their skin in contrast to much of the America he lived his life in.

Dreams somehow also sit at an unattainable distance from us. Like two powerful magnets, the dream that is distant pulls on the dream at our core, beckoning us to realize that which we were made to be. Our dream. It’s as though it is at once unattainable, and unavoidable.

Lately—even before the annual rememberance of Dr. King and his famous speeches—I’ve been thinking about my dream. Mainly I’ve been asking myself, “What is my dream?”

And I really don’t know.

I’ve been through a rough patch the past maybe eighteen months, or so. Jen & I both. Maybe it’s even two years, now, I don’t know. But one thing after another… life just taking its toll on us, as it seems to be so good at doing.

Is that why I have lost focus on my “dream”? Or did I just never have one?

When I was a very young kid, I wanted to be a weatherman. Yes, really! I would be sure to get in front of a TV and catch the full weather portion of the daily news broadcast. (As soon as it was over and the sports segment was up I made sure to turn it off as quickly as possible! Hated sports!) 🙂 But, as many early childhood dreams, that really amounted to nothing. I am still interested in science and specifically anything to do with the sky … but that’s about the extent of me living that dream.

As I got older, I imagined myself to be a writer. So much so that when I was pressed to decide what I would do with my life at the ripe old age of sixteen, I chose “Journalism”. Seemed to make sense. A career as a writer! Who could ask for more?

Except, I don’t think writing is my “dream”.

A year at the Journalism school yielded little more than a still-strong allegiance to the Green and White. (I only took one journalism course, and I really don’t remember a thing about it.) I soon transitioned to a local university before deciding to pursue another “dream” and finish my undergraduate work at Cincinnati Bible College.

As I got to be an older teenager, I did grow to love sports. I really could throw the football better than most people I knew. It came pretty easy, but also from lots of “reps”, as they call it in the world of football. I was always throwing a football, even with no one to throw it to! Maybe playing football was my dream?

So while at MSU, I decided to try to walk on with the varsity football team. That was promptly put down, but my “dream” was not.

At the University at Buffalo, I joined the spring football team practice and workouts. Sadly, I never got to play any football. My class schedule conflicted with football practice, so all I got to do was add some muscle to my frame in the weight room. I did also get to meet Joe Reich, brother of the quite famous Buffalo Bills backup QB, Frank Reich, of the Greatest Comeback lore. Joe was the team’s coach in charge of the spring football practices.

Coach Reich was also a believer. We talked about football, about his brother, and also about our common faith. I told him how I’d always wanted to play football (though, “always” was definitely a stretch, I’d say) and, while talking about that dream, we also talked about what I was slowly realizing was maybe my “real” dream: full-time ministry.

I’d been wrestling with that for much of my second year of college. It seemed like God was impressing upon me that there was nothing else that mattered to me than helping people live in the everyday reality of life with a loving Father. I wanted to help people know the same Jesus I had come to know. He was so much more than I’d ever imagined him to be, and I knew others would want to know that, too!

And so I decided to pursue my dream. I left football, and journalism (and, hardest of all, meteorology…) and began taking classes toward a degree from a(n undergrad) seminary.

The funniest part about that dream is that I knew that it wasn’t what I was made to do before I even started it! I nearly did the “kicking and screaming” routine on the way to following this leading! I told God, “I do NOT want to be a preacher!!” And I didn’t. Still don’t. And, I never was (unless filling that role once or twice counts against you?) 🙂

And yet, as I pursued that dream, it felt right. Like I was where I was meant to be. I didn’t completely fit in with the rest of the folks I was going to school with there. I even ended up finding an obscure way to live out my full-time ministry aspirations: Campus Ministry. After doing an internship at Miami University during my senior year, one thing led to another, and I was hired by a church in New York to begin campus outreaches to local universities.

I was living my dream! Mostly… but no? Maybe I wasn’t.

I think I have forgotten to mention here that through the football dream, during the journalism dream (but well after the Weatherman dream) … the lovely Jen Walker was a big part of my dream. 🙂 In a story much too long to share here, God helped me see that I loved her, and I knew I could love her forever as my wife. We remained good friends, kept in touch, and eventually—remember, this is the very short version—we were married! I am still currently living that dream!

(And adding these six amazing kids to the dream has definitely made that my favorite, most meaningful “dream” to date!)

Now, in the interest of keeping it brief… Oh, wait. I think I missed “brief”…

God has continued to seem to move me from one dream to another throughout my life. Maybe you are like that, too? Or maybe you’re more like MLK. He knew what he was made to do, and he did it. He made the bold choices that changed the world. (He apparently made some other poor choices, too. And his bold/good choices got him killed. So it’s not all rosy… but he still had more courage to see his dream come to fruition than most of us do.)

From campus ministry, the seeds of sharing the Life of God through music that had been planted years earlier began to sprout and grow, and before we knew it, we were actually traveling the country singing my songs in every place you can imagine. We were full-time, independent musicians! And it sure seemed that God was arranging so many of the details. It was a fun ride, to be sure. We were living the dream!

I think?

Let’s recap. My dreams so far have been:

  • Weatherman
  • Journalist/Writer
  • Full-time ministry
  • Campus ministry
  • Musician
  • Jen… and our kids

And now, for the past eight years or so, I’ve been designing/building/developing websites for people and businesses. That’s been a great blessing to us. My love for and understanding of technology has certainly lent itself to this “dream”, though to be honest, this has always felt like more of a job than a dream.

But related to the website building, I managed to create a few podcasts. The Buffalo Bills Review allowed me to live out the football “dream” while also writing, and using technology. That was a pretty good “dream”, but it never earned enough money to justify the time I was putting into it.

AND, I have yet to share this story more publicly, but just about a year ago we were really, really close to opening a restaurant! Now that is pretty close to a dream right there. Maybe the closest. I love making food for people, I love being with people… both of those and more fit right in with the plans we had for the restaurant.

That is currently not my wife’s dream, though, and God saw fit to swiftly and decisively close all of the doors we though he had opened toward the restaurant endeavor. It was sad, a bit shocking, but in retrospect, definitely wise and needed for the year that was to come. (I love when we can see Father’s wisdom in the recent past.)

All of this to say, I sit here in early 2012, nearing four decades of existence on this planet, and I’m really not sure what my “Dream” is. I don’t think I’m having a mid-life crisis. I don’t feel like it’s a “crisis”. I just really can’t say what it is that is at the core of me. That distant, unattainable goal that is irresistably drawing me to itself.

Is that normal? Is it normal to wonder that?

I’d guess that it is. You might not know what your “dream” is, either.

But I do know a few very important things.

One, Jen and our kids are definitely one of my dreams. I want to spend my days pouring myself into them.

I was not wrong when I first realized that all I wanted to do in life was help people know Jesus the way I had come to know him. That’s looked different all through my life, but that is still definitely at the core of who I am.

I do still get to write (as you can see here… in this very long post!) and I do play football with my kids, and I do still make music (usually with my kids) and I certainly get to make food for people (most often my kids…)

Hmm. Could it be that simple? Have I found my dream?

That’s where I might be defining “dream” differently than I need to.

Each day I get to do all of those things for and with my family. I even get to “help people live in the everyday reality of life with a loving Father”. It just happens that the “people” are most often my wife and kids. 🙂

Steven Curtis Chapman wrote a song for his wife, Mary Beth, called One Little Heartbeat at a Time. The chorus says:

You, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time
Making history with every touch and every smile
Oh, you, you may not see it now
But I believe that time will tell
How you, you are changing the world
One little heartbeat at a time

I may not be leading huge marches, or speaking to hundreds of thousands of people. I may never have a holiday in my honor. (You never know, though, I suppose…)

But I do love my kids. So much. And I am so glad that I get to spend my life with Jen, who is still my favorite person in the world.

That really is my dream. I don’t know that I have a “dream” job, or a life-cause as most might see it. But I do have a dream. I have a dream that one day my kids will live full lives of being loved by their true Father, and loving and serving everyone he places around them. I have a dream that one day my kids will be known by the content of their character, not by anything position they hold or possessions they own. I have a dream that one day I will get to see their kids—my grandkids—and the joy that God has given us in being the parents of these six new Image Bearers will multiple many fold.

I want to love and be loved. Loved by my Father, and love all who are around me. I want to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with my God. Wherever and how that plays out every day is very secondary.

So I guess I do have a dream. And—lucky me—I’m living it!

by Greg

City Living… Or Not.

We Campbells live in a thriving rural metropolis.

Nestled on the outer eastern edge of the once-vibrant technology town of Rochester, NY—R.I.P. Kodak—our town is home to nearly seven thousand people of various ilk. This is the place to be if you want to experience cultural, ethnic, religious, and economic diversity. We’ve got it all!

But for some reason, Kirstie decided this week that she wants to live in NYC.

“I am going to live in New York City some day,” she proudly announced to her Mom. “I just really want to live up high in the air, overlooking the city,” she explained to her Dad.

Neither Mom nor Dad can even stand the thought of visiting the Big City, so the expressed hopes and dreams of our seven-soon-to-be-eight year old daughter were (more than) somewhat repulsive to us. “New York City, eh?” we slowly pondered a loving response, “Well, that’s a long time from now, so we’ll see what God has in store when that time comes.”

(We were at least partially, and quite deftly, employing the fine art of deflecting/distracting from/deferring the less than desirable, far-off dreams of young children.)

Fast-forward to bed time.

It was a very windy night. This strangely warm winter has seen a few brief cold spells, and each time they’ve come, they were ushered in by a fierce wind. This night’s wind was particularly powerful—and noisy!

As I was hugging and kissing the girls, tucking each under their warm, fuzzy blankets, I could tell that the wind was very much on their minds. The house was creaking and various scraping noises could be heard on the street outside as sundry items were dragged great distances against their will by the forceful gusts.

“God,” I began, “Please protect this room tonight and its inhabitants from anything that might harm them in this wind.” I started to go into detail about what things God could protect us from, but at the first break in my thoughts I was interrupted.

“Do you think there could be a tornado?” Kirsten asked, with a hint of real concern in her voice.

“No, Kirstie,” I reassured her, “There really aren’t any tornadoes here where we live. It’s pretty crazy, but pretty cool, huh?”

The three girls nodded, and verbally affirmed my mostly rhetorical question.

A moment later, after giving some thought to what I had said, Kirsten asked, “Are there tornadoes in New York City?”

Jumping at the chance, I quickly replied, with great conviction in my voice, “Oh yes! There are always tornadoes in New York City. Really bad ones! All the time!!”

“Dad!” Kirstie scolded, in the way only Kirstie can do. Her twinkling eyes looked up and met my big, silly-Dad smile.

I was still smiling at my innocent, yet clever, yet loving jab at my oldest daughter’s earlier proclamation, when the brief silence was interrupted by her younger sister, Julia.

“I am never going to live there!” she said in her very tiny, very matter-of-fact tones.

Caught a bit off guard, I enjoyed a deep belly laugh—we all did!—and then I gave Julia a big hug and said, “That’s my girl!”

If you know Julia, you know that this was perfect is so many ways! She knows what she wants, and she just says it!

I love seeing the personalities of our kids shine through, even at the earliest ages. Julia is a very “black-and-white” person; very matter of fact. And she’s incredibly cute! That response was just quintessential Julia, far beyond what I can relay in a few sentences.

I don’t know if we swayed Kirstie any that night, but we all did have a great laugh. She might still be on a mission to live in the big city. Or not. Time will tell.

But one thing’s for sure: Julia is never gonna live there!

by Greg

Both Sides of the Story

I’ve mentioned here many times that I am learning how crucial it is to see life from multiple angles. Getting not only information from people with opposing viewpoints, but really trying to step into their shoes; see from their perspective. It’s just so crucial to communication, to cooperation, interaction… to society in general.

And so often, we—being human, flawed, self-absorbed—we aren’t even aware that there are other legitimate perspectives!

Our son Ian has been very interested in the World War II time period of history. He’s been learning every bit he can not just about the battles, but the people—the leaders in particular—involved in the story. Winston Churchill and FDR, as well as Hitler, Mussolini, and Stalin. He’s previously read about Woodrow Wilson and WWI… definitely has a serious passion for history and biographies!

So much so that Mom (Jen) has even recently taken up a book about Roosevelt titled, “FDR’s Splendid Deception”, about the fact that President Roosevelt was never seen public in his wheelchair, so as to not appear weak. From all accounts, it’s a fascinating story.

Somehow all of this brought to mind a movie I had seen some time back. I posted a mini-review on that movie, Letters from Iwo Jima, and it’s counterpart, Flags of our Fathers, here on this site in 2007. Please go ahead and click the link and read that story. (That’s actually the main reason for this post: that you’d re-read that older post!)

The fascinating thing was, Flags was released first, and then Iwo Jima. They depicted the exact same story from history, but from opposite sides of the battle.

How much better off we’d be if we could do that with nearly every conflict or disagreement!

For a long time now, Jen and I and I have been reading through a modern translation of the Federalist Papers called The Original Argument. In Federalist #1, Alexander Hamilton addresses this subject (in an atmosphere where there were passionate arguments for and against the proposed Constitution):

Since the motives behind each of the opinions are so strong, it is certain that wise and good people will be found on both sides of the issues. This fact should remind us all to remain modest in our opinion—no matter how right we think we are.

I think that is still my favorite quote from all the papers we’ve examined so far. And again, how different would our political climate be today if that were the way everyone approached every issue, whether controversial or relatively benign?

Forget politics. What if we all treated each other that way? What if we presumed that we were not smarter, better, right-er than everyone else around us.

“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.”

That’s where it starts. You can’t really even care about the perpective of your adversary or opponent—or anyone—if you know you are in some way (or all ways) superior.

I’d really encourage you to read that post about Letters from Iwo Jima, and as I recommended now almost five years ago, if you haven’t seen it… do.

The more we can see things from other view points, other perspectives, the more we can live at peace with others around us. (Which is what Paul says we need to do in the verse just before what I quoted above.)

So I encourage you to take a walk in someone else’s shoes today. You might be surprised what you see.

Scripture quote is Philippians 2:3-4, from the New Living Translation

by Greg

Some Things Never Change

Since the beginning of time, young kids have seen the colored tiles—whatever shape they might assume—as an endless playground for the imagination, and an exciting test of their balance and coordination skills.

And the Campbell children are certainly no different!

Walking the mall with any of our youngest kids is never really walking, it’s traversing. It’s an expedition. Through fiery lava, or dangerous waters infested with countless perils and vicious creatures!

The most recent expedition was with Emma, who was more of an athlete than an explorer. Her task at first was to maintain perfect balance across all the colored tiles, but that soon changed to being able to completely clear the four-square blocks, long-jump style! (Which she actually did quite well!)

I could not help but (vividly) recall my childhood, where I was doing the very same thing. And as I’ve said, I can’t think of any one of our children who have not. What is it about our youth that allows us the freedom—that nearly demands that we see life as play?

And better yet, where does that go?

About that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who is greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven?”

Jesus called a little child to him and put the child among them. Then he said, “I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven. So anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Sometimes we read that and see the part about “turn[ing] from your sins” and that will “get us into” the Kingdom of Heaven. And thus, becoming like little children is perhaps being born again (spiritually), or even maybe being more trusting, having more faith.

But in the context, Jesus was asked who was the greatest, and his answer was someone who might seem like the “least”. What he chose to point out was the humility of a child—which, in contrast to the question raised, sharply reveals the pride of the questioner.

Without pride, we are free to play (no matter what anyone might think of us). Pride is, after all, just our self-given worth. It’s what we imagine ourselves to be, that we usually are not.

Humility, being the opposite—and the quality Jesus said we, like children, should aspire to possess—is not concerned with what others think of us. There is a nearly unshakeable freedom to fully enjoy life as it unfolds before you.

How many of us live like that? Maybe we should.

Maybe I will.

I did that night with Emma. We skipped through parking lots, jumped from tile to tile, and slowly enjoyed every moment as we made the trek through the adventure-land that was our local shopping mall. The joy was definitely in the unpretentious frivolity we were engaging in, but it was also in just being together. Taking interest in each other.

Don’t look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too.

If we’re not concerned with us, there’s a lot more room to enjoy the things and the people around us.

Emma sure was. And I bet your kids are pretty good at it, too. As, I’d guess, were you.

Some things never change. Kids will always see the colored tiles in malls as the next great adventure, even if they’ve conquered it before. And, the truth of God’s words, that life in his Kingdom is found when we are humble and unassuming, like little children.

I think it’s time for a stroll through the mall…

Scripture quotes from Matthew 18 and Philippians 2, both from the New Living Translation.