Ten years later

Today, we recognize the ten year anniversary of the day that changed not only our country, but our world. It has been more than six months since I last posted anything on Crossing Paths, but I could think of no better moment to post again.

As such, I will actually post two pieces written while the smoke still billowed from what was the twin towers. The first is a journal entry I wrote on that fateful day. It is brief, but captured my thoughts at the time so that I wouldn't forget. It was a letter to God.

Today our nation was attacked by foreign terrorists. They have hijacked planes and crashed them into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.

Lord, I pray for mercy upon our country and for those who are trapped and injured. Comfort those who need comfort. Be with the families of those who have been injured and killed.

These terrorists probably hope to bring our country to its knees.

Let that be so.

The second piece is a prayer written by Max Lucado on September 14, 2001.

Dear Lord,

We're still hoping we'll wake up. We're still hoping we'll open a sleepy eye and think, What a horrible dream.

But we won't, will we, Father? What we saw was not a dream. Planes did gouge towers. Flames did consume our fortress. People did perish. It was no dream and, dear Father, we are sad.

There is a ballet dancer who will no longer dance and a doctor who will no longer heal. A church has lost her priest, a classroom is minus a teacher. Cora ran a food pantry. Paige was a counselor and Dana, dearest Father, Dana was only three years old. (Who held her in those final moments?)

We are sad, Father. For as the innocent are buried, our innocence is buried as well. We thought we were safe. Perhaps we should have known better. But we didn't.

And so we come to you. We don't ask you for help; we beg you for it. We don't request it; we implore it. We know what you can do. We've read the accounts. We've pondered the stories and now we plead, Do it again, Lord. Do it again.

Remember Joseph? You rescued him from the pit. You can do the same for us. Do it again, Lord.

Remember the Hebrews in Egypt? You protected their children from the angel of death. We have children, too, Lord. Do it again.

And Sarah? Remember her prayers? You heard them. Joshua? Remember his fears? You inspired him. The women

at the tomb? You resurrected their hope. The doubts of Thomas? You took them away. Do it again, Lord. Do it again.

You changed Daniel from a captive into a king's counselor. You took Peter the fisherman and made him Peter an apostle. Because of you, David went from leading sheep to leading armies. Do it again, Lord, for we need counselors today, Lord. We need apostles. We need leaders. Do it again, dear Lord.

Most of all, do again what you did at Calvary. What we saw here on that Tuesday, you saw there on that Friday. Innocence slaughtered. Goodness murdered. Mothers weeping. Evil dancing. Just as the ash fell on our children, the darkness fell on your Son. Just as our towers were shattered, the very Tower of Eternity was pierced.

And by dusk, heaven's sweetest song was silent, buried behind a rock.

But you did not waver, O Lord. You did not waver. After three days in a dark hole, you rolled the rock and rumbled the earth and turned the darkest Friday into the brightest Sunday. Do it again, Lord. Grant us a September Easter.

We thank you, dear Father, for these hours of unity. Disaster has done what discussion could not. Doctrinal fences have fallen. Republicans are standing with Democrats. Skin colors have been covered by the ash of burning buildings. We thank you for these hours of unity.

And we thank you for these hours of prayer. The Enemy sought to bring us to our knees and succeeded. He had no idea, however, that we would kneel before you. And he has no idea what you can do.

Let your mercy be upon our President, Vice President, and their families. Grant to those who lead us wisdom beyond their years and experience. Have mercy upon the souls who have departed and the wounded who remain. Give us grace that we might forgive and faith that we might believe.

And look kindly upon your church. For two thousand years you've used her to heal a hurting world.

Do it again, Lord. Do it again.

Through Christ, Amen.

2011, here we come

Well, here we are. 2011. Crazy, huh? Does it feel like 11 years to you when you consider all the hoopla over Y2K?

At any rate, it is a new year. As Ladyfriend and I were reminiscing over the recently concluded 2010, we summarized it as The Tale of Two Cities year. You know, the best of times and the worst of times. I don't think anyone has ever had a year that was 100% good, or 100% bad. The question isn't about balance, but severity. For me, 2009 was good for many reasons, but very difficult primarily due to the loss of my mom.

For many of us, difficult circumstances from 2010 will carry over into 2011. For all of us, we can't know to what degree life will be difficult or wonderful. Rest assured, this year will hold for all of us laughter and tears. There will be joy and pain. There will be victories and defeat. In all these things, we will be better and stronger 365 days from now if we learn from each of these experiences the life lessons packed within them.

Attitude is everything. With determination and integrity, with dignity and grace, take on the challenges and opportunities this year will hold for you. I have been around long enough to know from experience that God will not allow anything in my life that He can't see me through. Much of what I have gone through is bigger than me, but not bigger than Him. It's not my promise, but God's that we can do all things through Him and His strength.

It's my prayer that you have a wonderful year. I sure intend to. But no matter what lies ahead, I pray that 365 days from now, when we look back and assess the events of 2011, we can each testify to the power of God's love and strength to see us through it all.

Santa looked a lot like Daddy

I've decided to switch gears a bit from the serious tone of recent life lessons, and instead, focus on some fun Christmas memories. One incredible memory, which was a generational tradition on my dad's side of the family, was dad dressing up and playing Santa for kids. Now I'm not talking about the department store Santas you see all the time. Dad did this, like he does everything, above and beyond what you would expect.

The process of getting dressed, with the wigs and makeup, (gotta have those rosy cheeks), took him hours. Of course, Mom was essential in this metamorphosis. Dad's suit wasn't that bright Christmas red you're used to seeing on Santa. Instead, it was a deeper, richer red. Like a dark burgundy. This added to the uniqueness of his presentation. He had a professional wig for his hair, and the beard was amazing. They'd touch up his eyebrows to make them nice and white.
One of my favorite unique details he came up with was his way of capturing that very first moment at the front door. After getting out of the car, usually a couple blocks from the house, Mom would cover his shoulders with a dusting of shaved ice. He would arrange it with the families that when he arrived, the child or children would be right at the door when it opened. As the door swung open, there was Santa on their porch brushing "North Pole snow" from his shoulders. In fact, he even would get a little on the kids so they could have that added thrill of being sprinkled with snow. Hey, we lived in the Bay Area of California. Most kids have never even seen snow in person.

I could go into more details, but this would take you an hour to read it if I did.

One of the things I appreciate about my dad, and of my parents as a unit, is that they have always done things above and beyond what others would do, and what others would be satisfied with. That attitude has been a tremendous influence to me. This is one reason why just about everyone they've ever known has gotten attached to them. They have always loved and given so freely. And I mean freely literally. People would ask my dad how much he would charge or accept for his Santa appearances. With as much seriousness and conviction as one could imagine, he would adamantly refuse to accept money or anything in exchange for what he did. My parents understood the unmatchable reward in just making people, and especially children, happy. Dad did his Santa in prisons, children's hospitals, for the elderly, churches, living rooms...you name it.

He simply loves blessing people. All people.

Christmas is known as the season of giving. I hope that never goes away. But I'm proud to have had parents who simply lived their lives this way, year in and year out, no matter what the calendar said. I'm thankful that I was raised by people who were not satisfied by the status quo. Why stop at the place where everyone else does? Why stop at "that'll do"? With a little imagination, and with a huge heart, you can do so much more.

Mom is gone now, but I'm so grateful my dad is still with us. He is truly a legend in my eyes. There just aren't many like him in this world anymore.

Happy Birthday Ladyfriend!

Today is the birthday of the woman I have affectionately referred to here as 'Ladyfriend'. In the nearly 8 months I have known her, I have learned so much about life. The moment I met her happened to come at the end of one of the worst 24 hour periods in her entire life. Some might question the timing, thinking it couldn't have been worse. But it didn't take us long to see that to the contrary, it couldn't have been any better.

Those who know us can clearly see God's fingerprints all over it.

If I could summarize what I've learned since I've known her, I would do so with Proverbs 27:17. This has been such a classic case of mutual iron sharpening as I have ever seen. I see so clearly how God has used her to see, first hand, grace under pressure. I can't think of too many people whose lives put them through the daily gauntlet she has faced for years. I'd hate to think of the quivering mess I would be if I had to run the obstacle course, or more accurately, the mine field through which she's had to walk. But I've seen her endure so much with equal parts grace, dignity, integrity and faith.

I've seen few people who are so grateful for what might appear to so many people as little things. Perspective is a wonderful thing, but it can also be humbling. The course her life has taken would bring me and a myriad of others to our knees. What you and I consider incomprehensible has, unfortunately and unfairly, become an average day-in-the-life for her. This perspective has opened my eyes to the difficulties so many go through. I pass by people every single day who have such horribly complicated lives. Some by their own doing, and others, by the hands of others. I am learning to stop feeling sorry for myself for things which so drastically pale in comparison.

If you've followed Crossing Paths for any length of time, you may have noticed that I'm big into life lessons. I'm big into finding people who inspire me. I'm thankful that God has placed such an inspirational person in my life who teaches me more about embracing life, walking in faith, walking in joy and peace, than just about anyone else I've ever known.

Even though it's Ladyfriend's birthday today, I feel I have been given the most precious of gifts.

The inspiring Danny Murphy

For a reason I can't even begin to understand, a friend from my youth totally popped into my head the other night. In fact, it happened as I was sleeping. This person was a friend of mine through elementary school, into junior high, and finally high school. After that, as is typical, many of us went our separate ways into our new lives.

Danny Murphy was a very special kid, and an inspiration to me even to this day. Some of my hometown friends may know Danny, so this post may bring back some great memories of a unique individual.

Danny was born with severely deformed arms. At some point, he may have explained to me what caused it, but truly, it didn't matter. The fact was, he didn't care, so we didn't. Danny only had 4 fingers on each hand. He had no thumbs. One of his arms was permanently bent at a right angle. Both arms were shorter than normal, and I don't believe there was much dexterity in either. But one arm was a bit more useful than the other. As children are, anyone with the slightest abnormality was raw meat to the bullies and the most ignorant on the playground. Yet, I don't recall anyone ever picking on Danny.

You see, Danny had a positive attitude. He was very funny. He was so fun to be around. He was also a marvel to watch. He did everything everyone else did. He didn't let his condition keep him from anything the so-called normal kids did.

Danny played little league baseball with us. In the field, he would put his glove on his left hand, which was the stronger and more flexible arm. Once he caught the ball, in one motion, he would take the ball out of the glove with his right hand, pull the glove off his left hand with his right armpit, grab the ball with his left hand, and throw it wherever it needed to go. It took me ten seconds to describe what took him less than a second to do. I know I couldn't do it. It was amazing.

Danny played basketball. He made our junior high team, as a matter of fact. When he would take the court, the other team would take a look at him and assumed he would be useless out there. But Danny could shoot! I'm not talking about just little shots within a few feet of the basket. He could shoot from just about anywhere!

Danny played football. In fact, he was the place kicker in college at Sonoma State University. During his football career, Danny was selected to be the kicker for the West All Star team at the East West Shrine game at Stanford Stadium. Danny was the first, and to the best of my knowledge, only player ever to participate in the game who, at one time, was a patient of the hospital.

I have no idea where Danny is these days. In all likelihood, he doesn't go by Danny anymore. But that's how I knew him when we were kids. I love the fact that growing up with him, we didn't see a kid who was deformed. We didn't see a kid who was disabled. We didn't see a kid who felt sorry for himself. We didn't see a kid others felt sorry for. We saw a kid who was just a kid. His ordinary-ness was what made him extraordinary.

I know life had it's challenges for Danny. I have to believe that adult life has presented other challenges for him. But knowing him the way I did, I am certain that he took any and all challenges, and found a way to make it work. Just like he did with the baseball, he handled everything with tremendous grace.

Just remembering Danny has brought a smile to my face this week. It's also served to inspire me to see challenges as opportunities. Rather than assume it's hopeless, just find a way to make it work. There was no "can't" in Danny's vocabulary. Even after all these years since I've seen or talked to Danny, he's made me smile, laugh, and grow in determination.

Today, I celebrate and share with you the inspiring life of my boyhood friend, Danny Murphy.