A pet peeve

This is something that's gotten on my nerves for several years now.
It's a cute gimmick for a television ad, I guess, but it speaks to a potential problem - Dad is portrayed as a clueless, uninvolved idiot, leaving Mom, and even the kids, hip and wise.
Sure, Moms do a whole lot of the heavy lifting around the house and I'm grateful for what the one in my house does. But it seems as though these ads paint a sweeping picture of the American male which I pray is not reality.
If it is, then we've got a serious problem, brothers, and we've got to unite and step up to the plate.
To fend off future ad fodder, let's do the following:

• Take a look around you. Is it possible that what you're trying to make a point about is already happening in your house? If so, stop a minute and get a clue.
• Ask questions. Yes, I know this is hard, but sometimes, it's necessary.

• Find some way to involve yourself in your family's lives. Be a soccer or recital dad. It's OK.

It sure beats looking like this guy:

Why do we care?

This is a little outdated but it's something that's been rattling around inside for several weeks.
The aftermath of Anna Nicole Smith's death left a sordid mess that, apparently, the legal system is ill-equipped to straighten out.
There is isn't a celebrity death in my memory that equaled the circus quality of Smith's. The only recent comparison was that of Princess Diana, but the world's reaction carried a different tone - shock, dismay, disbelief.
Those left to claim a right to Smith's child - and her elusive fortune - made a mockery of her life, which already was fraught with complications - some self-induced, some not.
Despite her behavior in life, she should have been allowed at least a thimble-full of dignity in her death.
No such luck.
And, not long afterward, we followed Britney Spears' yo-yo rehab saga, checked out her latest tattoos and wondered aloud why she decided to go the Sinead O'Connor route with the hairstyle.
But, with Spears and Smith alike, I have to ask, why do we care?
I think it's because most of us think that those with money and fame are somehow closer to the divine than the rest of us - and we're puzzled when they act human or worse.
If we had a better understanding of the divine, we would realize that neither money, nor fame, can create spiritual enlightenment or bring us any closer to God.
The only thing money and fame seems to bring anybody is more - more stuff and often more problems.
So let's let Smith rest in peace and Spears get herself together.
Just like we'd do for anyone else.

Happy St. Patrick's Day and other stuff

OK, first off, let me explain the tag for this - gumbo.
In this sense, this post will have a smattering of all kinds of stuff that's welling up inside, so who knows what will come out?
I have some Irish descent in me somewhere, so at least I have green Post-It notes surrounding me. And as of yet, we don't have Jadyn in anything green.
But the day isn't over by a long stretch.
As I approach 40, I notice that I'm thinking more about people in my past - most often a guy I was in the Guard with named David who I haven't talked to in close to 14 years. I'm beginning to wonder if he's no longer with us - attempts to find him have led nowhere.
And there are those with whom renewed contact might be problematic, you know, past history that's too involved and complicated to bring forward into today.
But I guess I'm looking for some sort of acknowledgment that despite the challenges and struggles - and even my own self-defeating flaws - that I've somehow made a difference, or succeeded in life. Not to say that I've arrived, or that I'm perfect, but that I'm on the right path.
But in realizing that this is what I'm doing, I think I've unearthed a tremendous lack of faith.
Do I have to keep going if I never hear an attaboy? Yes.
"Well done, my good and faithful servant."
That's the one I want to hear. I guess it's selfish and self-centered to look for others along the way.
Am I where I'm supposed to be with the people I'm supposed to be with?
That, in and of itself, is a lack of trust, I suspect.
In most everything we sense, we think we're hitting the mark, overall. But ...
In my upbringing, a sense of doubt found its way into my thinking. It's something that's plagued me my entire life.
Very few things cross my path in which I don't second-guess my ability to handle them.
It's very debilitating and I'm learning - day by day - to overcome it.
A prayer shared by U.S. Rep. Roger Wicker, R-Miss., which House Chaplain Daniel Coughlin used in a prayer service near the opening of the current Congress in January, seems to fit.
It is attributed to the late Mychal Judge, the New York City Fire Department chaplain who died when the South Tower collapsed and sent debris into the North Tower on Sept. 11, 2001.
It reads: "Lord, tell me where You want me to go, Let me meet who You want me to meet, Tell me what You want me to say, And keep me out of Your way."
It is my prayer that I live out this one.

Making sense of what doesn't make sense

Less than nine months ago, my family stood in line in the lobby of Hillcrest Baptist Church along with dozens of other people to visit the family of Chris and Leah Walls (see previous posts) and file past the caskets containing their remains and those of their children.
We waited in line with a whole lot of people who didn't know us from Adam and probably wondered aloud why in the world would we bring a nine-month-old to a visitation.
Somehow, probably, we hoped Leah would see the child she'd prayed would come our way. We certainly wanted her family to know how much her support meant.
As I watched the footage roll in from Enterprise, Ala., Thursday, I noticed the unmistakable roof line of a modest-size, brick building which looked like a church. A map search confirmed what I thought - Hillcrest was again at the center of a tragedy, only this time, much bigger in scope at least in the number of people killed.
I think back now to the faces of the people I stood in line with on that balmy Friday night in southeast Alabama and I wonder - Are these now grieving grandparents, or intended rescuers who only found bodies or people who reunited a child and a parent or friends who are now turning to one another for comfort?
Did the Walls' deaths somehow prepare this town for even more sorrow? Is that even possible? Am I still grasping for something which will make their loss make sense? Yes, very likely.
But in both sets of circumstances, I continue to pray the Lord will do his bidding in these times of uncertainty and grief and that the sense of community I felt in that church would extend beyond its walls to a hurting Enterprise.
And I pray that the well-meaning people who've pulled satellite trucks to this community would do more than report about the horror. Maybe when the feed is offline, you could help someone lift a board, or listen - off-the-record - to a hurting family, or give a cup of water to those working the scene. They need more than 15 seconds of fame in Enterprise right now.
These are hard-working, dedicated, God-fearing, salt-of-the-earth people who probably don't respond well to pity. But they will listen to a helping hand. Let's all do what we can for these folks, even if for now it's just to pray.