A dad to his daughters

16 06 2013

From the first moment our eyes met, I knew this love would never end. As my best friend (you know her as ‘mom’) and I held you at birth, we prayed that you would flourish and thrive during the years we would raise you and the years to follow when you break out in your own.

It’s been an amazing experience to say the least, my girls. You’ve thrilled me, you’ve loved me, you’ve broken me, you’ve captured my heart.

I can already see such strength in you, and in time I know you will become amazing women filled with potential, ready to lead, to succeed and to love.

I’m teaching you about love in the way I love your mom, and the way I love you. I know you will eventually want to share your love with another, and I know, I trust that you will have been loved so well that the special person you choose won’t need my approval, because your choice in a lover and life-mate will be guided by the example of love we set for you.

I know that as you mature in life, you’ll make decisions that will be difficult, and I’m sure that as your dad I’ll wrestle with the choices you make as you experience life on your own. But, sweetheart, I’m your dad, I’m the guy who believes in you more than anyone in the world. I’m in your corner, kid. I’m your biggest fan.

I will love the ones you love, I will stand against anyone who hurts you, I will protect you for as long as you need me to.

My love isn’t based on your performance, your choices, the amount of time you spend with me…it is unconditional. I love you, and I always will.

I will respect you as you mature, yes, you’ll always be my little girl, but I’ll be so proud of the woman you become. It’s all you baby, I don’t take credit for you. You were a gift from God, and I am and always will be in love with you.

Happy Fathers Day to me, indeed.

I love you Topanga & Tehillah!

PS-To the little girl out there that we will adopt as our own someday (soon I hope), this goes out to you too sweetheart!





She Rises

18 05 2013
Hard Work Pays Off

Hard Work Pays Off

Today is a proud day. Today, the woman who agreed to become my bride nearly twelve years ago is taking part in her first figure competition. After months of training hard and eating clean, she will don her green competition bikini and she will take to the stage to reveal the result of hundreds of hours at the gym and day after day of determination.

At the age of thirty-one, as a wife and mother to two girls, ages six and seven, she set out to make a change. For two years, she’d been through some very trying times to say the least. Without dragging up too many painful memories, situations arose that caused her to be painfully rejected by both her church and her immediate family.

During this season where she was being rejected by her family, one of her siblings once sent her this note:

I don’t know where you went so sideways with mom and dad, perhaps when dad tried to make you run to lose weight as a child. seriously though are you going to just let your children become 280 pounds. I have to ask were you went so terribly wrong, the rest of us turned out fine.non of us have depression issues, weight issues, issues with mom and dad, issues with ourselves like you do. So like I said before where did you go so terribly wrong.

I remember the day she read that note to me. My heart broke for her, I cried with her, but I knew I could never feel or understand the pain she felt. Initially, she was indeed sent into a deep, dark depression, unlike any I’d ever seen. As her husband, I was helpless to fix this one.  Though I would stand by her, the healing would have to come from within her. She would have to journey through it on her own.

And what a journey it was. And is.

Her journey towards becoming whole once again began in her mind. It began with therapy, and she met with Dr. Richard Harrison, a clinical psychologist who provided an ear to hear, and wise counsel that touched her mind and touched her soul. This ‘secular’ counseling was quite frowned on by the church we’d attended in the months prior to her breakdown, but now that she was free to make her own decisions, she made the decision to reach out and received life-giving healing through the words and strategies of Dr. Harrison, unlike any she’d received by well-intentioned but far less qualified pastors in the church.

As the months past, she began to rise from the fog, and the painful, dark thoughts eventually left her. Light began to penetrate her once again. Hope began to fill her and as it did, she made a choice to continue the journey by turning her attention from her mind to her body.

She made a choice to rise above the kind of rejection that some people never recover from, from both her family and the church – and find strength -  spiritually, emotionally and physically.

She decided not only to accept herself, but love herself. She stopped criticizing the woman looking back at her in the mirror and instead she embraced the woman God created her to be. Where she observed weakness, she chose to improve by overcoming with a newfound physical and emotional stamina she’d never before had the courage to tap into.

She approached a physical trainer, Dawn Allison of Fit Body BC in Vancouver, and began to challenge the deep-seated insecurities that had been deposited into her subconscious over the years. While she had indeed struggled with her weight throughout her life, she took the painful, cutting words that had been spoken over her throughout her life and translated it to more time on the track. Where her posture had suffered because the church had taught her ‘boobs are bad’, she learned to stand up straight, and not hide the breasts she’d been blessed with.

As the weeks went by, Dawn, her trainer, asked her if she would like to enter a body building competition as a figure competitor and  join the Fit Body team a few months later in Kelowna. She’d always wanted to do something as brave as this, and though she had a fairly decent level of self confidence, there was always someone there to knock it out of her. But not this time. This time, she said yes, and began the nearly six month journey that will culminate with her walking out on that stage and standing in line with many other empowered, beautiful women celebrating the blood, sweat and tears that got them there.

She’s no longer one of those women that feel jealous when other beautiful women are nearby. In her heart, she’s become assured in herself, and finds her confidence in God. She no longer hides her beauty and she celebrates in the beauty of those around her.

Having lost nearly forty pounds, and having found the kind of confidence I didn’t know was possible, she  now walks a spring in her step. Her daughters have a role model that they are proud of beyond words. Her husband revels in her beauty and confidence, and is blessed beyond measure by her love.

Will she still struggle? Yes. Will she become depressed again? Probably. I hope not, but with the kind of pain she’s had to face in her past, it’s very likely she will feel that low feeling again someday. But the difference is, she knows who she is. She is not a member of a church, subjected to the whims of a pastor or leadership team insecure about beauty or ill-equipped to handle or understand sexuality. She is no longer a child, subjected to parents or siblings unable to accept or honour independence. She is Brandee, a broken woman made whole, in love with Jesus, her daughters and her man.

She knows who she is. When she looks at the woman in the mirror, she smiles.

And the woman in the mirror smiles back.

Love

Have a great show Brandee! You are my inspiration. I’m proud of you. I love you.





Afterglow: The Day After Valentine’s Day

15 02 2012

I love observing men on the day after Valentine’s day. In the trucking company that I manage, I have a unique opportunity to have several conversations with our drivers in the morning while their trucks warm up. Likewise, I get to converse with these drivers at the end of their work day as well.

All week I’ve been hearing the guys gripe about having to pick up flowers and chocolates for Valentine’s day, but to hear them speak the morning after, you’d think that it was their favorite holiday of the year (secretly, it probably is).

Some went out and some stayed in, but each of the men I talked to this morning had a mischievous grin – proud to keep secret (most of) the details of the night before, a treasure to protect and cherish.

What other annual event is geared to bring you close to the one you love? Birthday’s are selfish, Christmas is a gong show (even though it shouldn’t be) and every other special event is just about having a good time. Nothing against all that, but Valentine’s day, commercial as it may be (what holiday or event isn’t), is about bringing us into oneness with our lover, the one person who knows us and is known by us like no other.

From her shoes to her hair to her dress and her underwear, everything that she put on was chosen to make her man stare. Even as we sat in a restaurant by the beach, there were a hundred beautiful women dressed to attract the attention of their lovers, and yet each man really only saw one. His.

I greatly enjoyed being in the middle of a room full of people tending to fires of love, starting with paper, kindling, and slowly adding fuel to the fire until it was blazing hot. Some were rekindling old flames some were igniting something new, but all were lost in the eyes of one.

Every provocative gesture, every double entendre, every cheesy rhyme; every touch, every kiss, every longing glance – all part of an elaborate dance that draws lovers together for one special night.

And oh, what a night!

 Love.





Acting Christian

31 01 2012

This post was originally published for Provoketive Magazine on January 28, 2011.

Growing up in the church and in a Christian family, I remember hearing about a lot of different people in our community who weren’t acting very Christian.

How does one act Christian? It seems simple, but can be very complicated. Don’t Christians just follow the way of Jesus, choosing to live as he lived, engaging as he did?

Christian \ˈkris-chən, ˈkrish-\
noun : one who professes belief in the teachings of Jesus Christ
adjective : of to, or relating to, Christianity or being a Christian; based on or conforming with religion of Christianity

When people ask if I am a Christian, I usually say that I am “christian-ish.” This has nothing to do with being lukewarm, but is because of my desire to be viewed separately from the general Christian contingent. Though it boasts many good and desirable qualities, Christianity as a religion has been known to judge, to condemn and to look down upon, at times. There may be those who will judge me and even presume to know me, and in their condescending eyes I’ll seem to actmuch less Christian then they do.

And they’ll be right…because I’m not acting Christian at all.

It feels more honest to follow Jesus organically then to label myself Christian and become part of the club. I’d rather be found trying to follow in the footsteps of Jesus then be found acting like a Christian. I’d rather risk it all, trip and fall while conquering mountains with Jesus than play it safe and just go through the motions, doing chair aerobics in the comfort of the church.

Whether I go to church or label myself “Christian,” does it really matter? It’s written in 1st Corinthians 13:1-3 that even if I were the most amazing “Christian,” doing all the church stuff, I am nothing without love!

I’d rather spend time with “non-Christians,” allowing them to notice something different about me that they can’t see and be attracted to the love of Jesus in me, than to be repelled by a “brother” or “sister” in the Lord because I am different than he or she.

I’d rather be good to the bad than blend in with the bland. I’d rather be loved by someone than be told that someone loves me. I’d rather feel and share the love of Jesus than just talk about it.

It’s important to me to be a part of my community and not pretend that it’s my “holy” segregation makes me a Jesus freak. The principle of “in the world, but not of it” doesn’t work unless it’s informed by Love.

Where I once bought into to the fear-based mentality of avoiding this world’s reality, I’m learning to embrace the beauty of a world created for me. I’m learning what it feels like to be free, I’m learning to taste, touch, hear, smell and see. I desire faith that lives, moves and breathes because I’m disgusted with a convenient, oppressive theology. A little less conversation and little more action please!

Keep it real. Follow Jesus.





Adopting Hope

18 01 2012

Hope is an expectation, an inventive vision, a dream. Hope is a desire.

Hope imagines what faith can create and build. Hope is the designer, the architect, the plans on paper; faith is the carpenter that constructs something tangible, something that you can see and touch from what was once only a dream.

When hope is dashed by doubt and fear, love perseveres…and love always has hope!

Faith, hope and love, a partnership of pursuable, learnable virtue.

As a visionary, a dreamer, hope is where I live. I wake up in the morning with hope at my side, having dreamt together all night. I try to spend time with faith and love, but hope I know.

One of my most vivid experiences with hope occurred while standing on the most eastern point of Mexico, on a tiny island called Isla Mujeres. It was September 2009, and my soulmate Brandee and I were celebrating our 9th wedding anniversary.

If God is love, and love always hopes, than God hopes. So I believe that standing at the edge of the ocean, in the warmth of the sun and of God’s love, he was inspiring me with His hope. Inspiring me to open my heart, our home, and live out our love. He was whispering hope to my soul on the rhythm of the waves.

Adoption. This was the message of hope that He was nudging into my thoughts. He was making His hope become mine. Somewhere a little girl is hoping for a forever home, and He was bringing her hope to me.

Up until this time, I’d never considered adding another child to our family, especially not by adoption. I fully supported the concept of adoption of course, but felt it just wasn’t for us. Everything changed on that beautiful beach in Mexico. Hope was sparked. I remember hearing children laughing, looking back at the boardwalk and seeing two little girls playing together, one American and one Mexican. I looked back at the ocean, contemplating the message God was entrancing me with before looking back to the boardwalk, finding that the two little girls from two different cultures had disappeared, their laughter only memory etched in my mind.

Teary-eyed, I looked back to the waves and watched them slowly roll in and I was amazed at the peace, the vision, the hope that God was filling me with. My wife asked what I was thinking about, and I said, “You wouldn’t believe it…” but went on to share what was happening in my heart. That afternoon, nearly two years ago, we began our hopeful journey of adoption.

It hasn’t been an easy journey, and on occasion it feels like we’re in the middle of the ocean with no idea which way to go, but our God is faithful, and He ignites hope when we have none. In Romans 5, we read about how suffering produces perseverance, which produces character, which produces hope.

Sometimes the dark clouds roll in and it becomes difficult to see our destination on the horizon; but it is in those stormy times that we cling to hope. Our daughter is out there, we pray for her to be held safe in the arms of God until we hold her in ours.

Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. Hebrews 10:23

* * * *

January is often a space to create new dreams and so we’re leaving the topic open and to your imagination. We believe the power of voice has tremendous capacity to inspire and give hope to people. A Synchroblog is a collective response to a particular topic. Every one of our writers writes about the same issue and then links to each other’s post. Here is the link list so far for January’s Synchroblog, a partnership with Provoketive Magazine centered around the theme of Hope. 

 * * * *

Below is a list of all the posts and participants in this month’s synchroblog:

The Trouble With Hope: John Ptacek

Hope = Possibility x Imagination: Wayne Rumsby

Little Reminders: Mike Victorino

Where Is My Hope: Jonathan Brink

Hope for Hypocrites: Jeremy Myers

Now These Three Remain: Sonny Lemmons

Perplexed, But Still Hopeful: Carol Kuniholm

A Hope that Lives: Amy Mitchell

Generations Come and Generations Go: Adam Gonnerman

Demystifying Hope: Glenn Hager

God in the Dark: On Hope: Renee Ronika Klug

Keeping Hope Alive: Maurice Broaddus

Are We Afraid to Hope?: Christine Sine

On Wobbly Wheels, Split Churches and Fear: Laura Droege

Adopting Hope: Travis Klassen

Hope is Held Between Us: Ellen Haroutunian

Hope: In the Hands of the Creatively Maladjusted: Mihee Kim-Kort

Paradox, Hope and Revival: City Safari

Good Theology Saves: Reverend Robyn

Linear: Never Was, Never Will Be: Kathy Escobar

Better Than Hope: Liz Dyer

Caroline for Congress: Hope for the Future: Wendy McCaig

Fumbling the Ball on Hope: KW Leslie

Content to Hope: Alise Wright

Hope: Oh, the Humanity!: Deanna Ogle





When the singing stops…

5 12 2011

This post is from my other blog, www.churchburned.com. Check it out.

For decades, canaries were used in coal mining as a warning system to alert miners to dangerous levels of carbon monoxide or carbon dioxide. These little birds sing most of the time, so as long as the canary was singing, the miners knew it was still safe to work. If the bird was silenced, killed because of the presence of poisonous gas, the miners would evacuate the mine until it could be made safe.

The analogy of the canary in the coal mine is often used to describe the person or persons who attempt to warn others of a situation that is going awry. Yesterday I began applying this concept to the Church. Is there an effective warning system in our churches? When things are going wrong, what signals do we follow, what actions do we take to make it safe again?

People are leaving the church. Many strong followers of Jesus are walking with Him outside of a traditionally accepted institutional community because they’ve found it to be too dangerous on the inside. Trusted voices are being silenced by a message of love that is tainted with toxic levels of politics and pride.

When these trusted people stop “singing,” do we take it as a warning sign or do we just replace them with someone who will perform on command? If we continually repeat the pattern, replacing the dying bird without venting the poisonous gas and correcting the problem, the quality of life will never improve. The canary may be more sensitive and succumb more quickly, but the same toxic fumes are negatively affecting the health of rest of the people as well.

It’s been half a year since we stopped singing. Like the canary’s silent alarm, our exit was quiet, to the casual observer it may have even appeared peaceful; yet there was nothing peaceful about those last violent, painful gasps for air and eventual suffocation. How many more will succumb to the noxious fumes before someone throws the doors open, letting the fresh wind of the Holy Spirit refresh the air supply with Jesus’ love?

Breathe. Just breathe.

 ”‘Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.’ This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.’
Matthew 22:37,38 MSG





Beautifully Broken

19 11 2011

I haven’t posted anything to this blog for a while, as I’ve been spending every free waking moment (and more than a few half awake moments) writing my new book, which is nearly finished! For the past four months I have lived and breathed this work, and I am so excited to share it with you! I’ve sent the manuscript out for review to a very select number of trusted advisors, close friends and family members. Once I get their feedback, it’s time for another round of revisions, and then it gets sent off to my editor. So exciting!

All the while, I am doing preliminary research work for my second book, a fresh look at the arts, faith, culture and the church, and the relationship between each. So, another awesome year ahead.

Hold it. As I wrote that last sentence, I almost lost my breath. Another awesome year? If you took a close look at the year that Brandee and I just had to go through, you might ask what I’m trying to pull. Who am I trying to fool? It’s okay, I just asked myself that same question. Over this last year we faced several very complicated and very painful life situations that caused us to loose friends, family members and sometimes our faith.

Along the way we’ve learned that it’s okay to not be okay. It’s alright to hurt, it’s alright to cry. Sometimes you just can’t put on that brave face and pretend like nothing is wrong. Today I went back for listen to a song that feels like it has become like an old friend to me:

“Beautifully Broken” Ashlee Simpson

It seems like yesterday that my world fell from the sky
It seems like yesterday I didn’t know how hard I could cry
It feels like tomorrow I may not get by
But I will try
I will try wipe the tears from my eyes

I’m beautifully broken and I don’t mind if you know it
I’m beautifully broken and I don’t care if I show it

Every day is a new day I’m reminded of my past
Every time theres another storm I know that it wont last
Every moment I’m filled with hope
cause i get another chance
But I will try I will try
Got nothing left to hide

Without the highs and the lows
Where will we go?
Where will we go?

I am beautifully broken, I am beautifully broken
I am beautifully broken and I don’t care if I show it

Everybody hurts. To be human is to feel. To be human is to be real. To be human is to hurt. To be human is to heal. When we are wounded, we bleed, but our bodies are designed to heal themselves. If we are healthy, our bodies will tighten the blood vessels in and around the injured area and send platelets to the torn vessel, effectively plugging the hole. Then, clotting proteins form a net (a scab) that keep the platelet plug in place, permanently stopping the bleeding. Next, the blood vessels that were constricted now dilate, bringing white blood cells to fight infection by destroying any germs that may have entered via the open wound. Finally, fibroblast cells gather at the site of the injury and produce collagen, and skin begins to migrate across the wound, under the scab.

It’s an amazing process, but one that is very dependent on the overall health of our bodies as a whole. If our body is unhealthy, for example it’s fighting a virus or disease or it is being contaminated by an unhealthy outside substance (i.e. smoking), then it is much less effective at healing itself.

We have to maintain our physical, spiritual and emotional health to be whole. I am convinced that to be whole we must be broken. It’s one of those paradoxes that I don’t understand yet, but I am working through. Our wholeness encompasses the scars of our brokenness.

Once the body heals, a scar almost always remains, a reminder of the painful wound but also of the miracle of healing. A balance, celebrating the healing and yet acknowledging the memory of the pain. Remembering painful situations, and not just “moving on,” helps us to calculate risk and avoid serious injury in the future. Of course, sometimes the risk of pain is worth the reward.

Above all this, we are all beloved children of God. When the hurt is too great and the pain too intense, He is all we need. This song tells of the hope we have in these desperate situations, and is always on mind during those tough times:

“Healer” Michael Guglielmucci

You hold my every moment
You calm my raging seas
You walk with me through fire
And heal all my disease

I trust in You
I trust in You

I believe You’re my Healer
I believe You are all I need
I believe You’re my Portion
I believe You’re more than enough for me

Jesus You’re all I need
Nothing is impossible for You
You hold my world in Your hands

I am healed and whole and yet beautifully broken. Some who read this will understand. You know. You feel it. Embrace it and just love. May our hearts love and be loved, full of God’s love and the love of the people around us.








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