If I could have anything for my birthday, what would it be? Wow! What a question. It is a well-known fact among my family and friends that I am notoriously indecisive when it comes to making out wish lists for my birthday, Christmas, anniversary or any other occasion. I have a hard time splurging on myself or asking anybody else to do it. Plenty of fodder there for a future entry, I suppose. Getting back to this question Jennifer posed to me and the kids earlier today about one birthday wish... Should I be selfish and go for something material? Sports car, money, the perfect job, bigger house or fancy new toy? Nah. I was raised better than that. Maybe something more cliche. World peace, a secure future for my kids or an end to world hunger?
It just occurred to me after some reflection: All these things are possible through Jesus Christ who strengthens me. I am embarrassed it wasn’t immediately obvious to me. I suppose I have a lot of company since we have all fallen short of the glory of God. If I could have anything for my birthday, it would be a more disciplined prayer life. And the good news: that’s a birthday wish I have the ability to bring into reality.
Matthew 6:30 And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith? 31 “So don’t worry about these things, saying, ‘What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?’ 32 These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers, but your heavenly Father already knows all your needs.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Bricks and Flowers
We recently attended the funeral, associated ceremonies and rituals for Jennifer’s dad. Lee and I didn’t have a close relationship, so I didn’t have memories to reflect upon with the family. Aside from being there for emotional support, I found myself with some time on my hands. If you know me, then you know my mind has a tendency to wander far and wide when I have time on my hands. It’s not uncommon to hear “ooh… here’s a thought” from me at those times. So during the four days between Lee’s death and the funeral service, I spent a lot of time with a smart phone and watching rug rats so folks could visit.
My first mental road trip came while watching the kiddos play at the visitation. The visitation was held at Kinney-Underwood Funeral Home in Stamford, Texas. A town of roughly 3,600 residents, I would say Stamford is the quintessential small Texas town. Not a lot of glitz and glamour, and a much slower pace of life. You can’t help but take things in and enjoy the view, even on such on occasion. We parked in the mostly gravel parking lot just to the south of St. John’s Methodist Church across the street. The parking lot lies directly between the church and a playground. You can probably imagine where the kids instantly wanted to go. We rounded them up and went inside to pay our respects. All things considered, I think every kid present was very well behaved. Devyn’s astute three-year-old observation was that “mamma’s daddy shouldn’t wear his glasses while he’s sleeping.” That got quite a few giggles from everybody. I think Lee would have liked that one too. The kids eventually lost interest in the goings on. There’s only so much visitin’ a kid can stand. So I went with them to the playground. Sitting on the tailgate of my brother-in-law’s truck, I took in the surroundings. At the intersection Hamilton and Ferguson Streets, the funeral home is located on the southwest corner, the church on the southeast corner, EMS services on the northeast corner and an empty building with exposed aggregate walls on the northwest corner. Not a lot of traffic on a Sunday afternoon. My gaze wanders to the church and I realize it has a distinctly beautiful architecture. While the kids played, I made my way around the building to take pictures and enjoy the design. I was hoping to find a cornerstone on the building in hopes I could learn a little of the history. Even better, I found a State of Texas historical landmark plaque. The church was constructed in 1910. The congregation was founded in 1900. The church’s 100’ tower was, for many years, the tallest church between Dallas and El Paso. Check it out on Google maps. Sitting there surrounded by the laughter and screaming of the kids, the somber ritual across the street and this incredible piece of architectural history, I am struck by the magnitude of it all. The kids, most too young to comprehend what’s going on across the street, don’t have a care in the world. A lifetime of experiences lies ahead of them. The visitation across the street marks the end of a life’s journey. And a 100 year-old building standing watch over this scene, as it has countless times before. I take the moment in and let it linger like the scent of a fresh flower, grateful for the opportunity to witness it.
The second observation comes to me the next day while sitting outside Pleasant Grove Baptist Church south of Anson, Texas. We are waiting for the funeral service to begin. Nobody is looking forward to the tears and good-byes to come. Family and friends are engaged in idle conversation in the unusually warm November weather, trying to keep their minds occupied with other topics. I watch the funeral director and his staff as they prepare the church for the service. They carry in flower arrangements. Most are red, white and blue in honor of Lee’s service in the U.S. Navy. Live plants arrive as well. Then the thought comes: Why do people send flowers and plants to funerals? The obvious reason is to express their support and love for the family who is grieving. But what purpose or function does it serve? How did this ritual start? Surely it’s more than a capitalist conspiracy by floral companies to generate revenue. Armed with the phone, I google that exact question. The tradition of having flowers and plants at a funeral service may have actually arisen out of the more utilitarian need for aromatic herbs and strong-scented flowers to mask odors in the days before modern embalming techniques. Obviously this is not the case in modern times, so there have to be other reasons folks continue this tradition. Turns out, there have been numerous studies conducted on this very topic. One such study, entitled "The Role of Flowers and Plants in the Bereavement Process," set out to understand the value and role of flowers and plants in the funeral service and bereavement process. The short version of the findings: Flowers and plants provide warmth and comfort to the funeral setting. In the study, 77% of respondents said flowers and plants brighten up a somber environment and 53% said they give folks with something else to talk about during the visitation. They also seem to be a living memorial to the deceased, as they are almost always taken home by the family. Personally, I think it’s a gift from God. The beauty of His creative power surrounds us and is meant to remind us that He is still the Great Comforter.
So the next time you find yourself at that crossroads where life and death meet, take the time to soak up the little details. You never know what God will reveal to you in those quiet moments.
Edward Lee Jordan
March 25, 1949 - November 11, 2010
My first mental road trip came while watching the kiddos play at the visitation. The visitation was held at Kinney-Underwood Funeral Home in Stamford, Texas. A town of roughly 3,600 residents, I would say Stamford is the quintessential small Texas town. Not a lot of glitz and glamour, and a much slower pace of life. You can’t help but take things in and enjoy the view, even on such on occasion. We parked in the mostly gravel parking lot just to the south of St. John’s Methodist Church across the street. The parking lot lies directly between the church and a playground. You can probably imagine where the kids instantly wanted to go. We rounded them up and went inside to pay our respects. All things considered, I think every kid present was very well behaved. Devyn’s astute three-year-old observation was that “mamma’s daddy shouldn’t wear his glasses while he’s sleeping.” That got quite a few giggles from everybody. I think Lee would have liked that one too. The kids eventually lost interest in the goings on. There’s only so much visitin’ a kid can stand. So I went with them to the playground. Sitting on the tailgate of my brother-in-law’s truck, I took in the surroundings. At the intersection Hamilton and Ferguson Streets, the funeral home is located on the southwest corner, the church on the southeast corner, EMS services on the northeast corner and an empty building with exposed aggregate walls on the northwest corner. Not a lot of traffic on a Sunday afternoon. My gaze wanders to the church and I realize it has a distinctly beautiful architecture. While the kids played, I made my way around the building to take pictures and enjoy the design. I was hoping to find a cornerstone on the building in hopes I could learn a little of the history. Even better, I found a State of Texas historical landmark plaque. The church was constructed in 1910. The congregation was founded in 1900. The church’s 100’ tower was, for many years, the tallest church between Dallas and El Paso. Check it out on Google maps. Sitting there surrounded by the laughter and screaming of the kids, the somber ritual across the street and this incredible piece of architectural history, I am struck by the magnitude of it all. The kids, most too young to comprehend what’s going on across the street, don’t have a care in the world. A lifetime of experiences lies ahead of them. The visitation across the street marks the end of a life’s journey. And a 100 year-old building standing watch over this scene, as it has countless times before. I take the moment in and let it linger like the scent of a fresh flower, grateful for the opportunity to witness it.
The second observation comes to me the next day while sitting outside Pleasant Grove Baptist Church south of Anson, Texas. We are waiting for the funeral service to begin. Nobody is looking forward to the tears and good-byes to come. Family and friends are engaged in idle conversation in the unusually warm November weather, trying to keep their minds occupied with other topics. I watch the funeral director and his staff as they prepare the church for the service. They carry in flower arrangements. Most are red, white and blue in honor of Lee’s service in the U.S. Navy. Live plants arrive as well. Then the thought comes: Why do people send flowers and plants to funerals? The obvious reason is to express their support and love for the family who is grieving. But what purpose or function does it serve? How did this ritual start? Surely it’s more than a capitalist conspiracy by floral companies to generate revenue. Armed with the phone, I google that exact question. The tradition of having flowers and plants at a funeral service may have actually arisen out of the more utilitarian need for aromatic herbs and strong-scented flowers to mask odors in the days before modern embalming techniques. Obviously this is not the case in modern times, so there have to be other reasons folks continue this tradition. Turns out, there have been numerous studies conducted on this very topic. One such study, entitled "The Role of Flowers and Plants in the Bereavement Process," set out to understand the value and role of flowers and plants in the funeral service and bereavement process. The short version of the findings: Flowers and plants provide warmth and comfort to the funeral setting. In the study, 77% of respondents said flowers and plants brighten up a somber environment and 53% said they give folks with something else to talk about during the visitation. They also seem to be a living memorial to the deceased, as they are almost always taken home by the family. Personally, I think it’s a gift from God. The beauty of His creative power surrounds us and is meant to remind us that He is still the Great Comforter.
So the next time you find yourself at that crossroads where life and death meet, take the time to soak up the little details. You never know what God will reveal to you in those quiet moments.
Edward Lee Jordan
March 25, 1949 - November 11, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Summertime
Summertime is about growing your own garden....we've got lettuce, cucumber, squash, tomato, beans, and bell peppers to name a few...
...working in the yard...we WILL have green grass again someday!
...lemonade stands. We took advantage of the neighbor's garage sale to sell lemondade. Squirt made about $7...not too bad for just an hour or so of work.
...and swim lessons...Scooter is in the middle of her first ones. She really is not very fond of the whole thing (I can't even get her to take a bath...she prefers a shower!), but she is tolerating it....
...that is until they make her go under water...then she's done having fun!
So far, this summer is flying by. We are ready for vacation! Watch out, Florida, we'll be there before you know it!!!
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
3rd Grade Recognition Ceremony
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Squirt's school had their 3rd Grade Recognition Ceremony today. He received an award for A-B Honor Roll and the classroom Writing Award. I can't believe that he will be a 4th grader next year! Time really flies!! But for now it is time to get ready for an active summer--karate lessons, swim lessons, VACATION, and a birthday party!
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Play Days and Trike-a-Thons
Friday was the annual Pirate Play Day at Squirt's school and the annual Trike-a-Thon at Scooter's school. Eric and I both went to Scooter's event, then I spent the whole day with Squirt. I have the bright red face and arms to prove it!! Even after making sure the entire class was sprayed down with sunscreen, I failed to make sure I got some on myself! But we had a great time playing tug of war, bungee racing, and then playing in the water on the giant water slide and watching all the teachers get doused by the kids with water balloons. The funniest part, though, was watching the teachers douse each other!
Scooter has decided that her helmet is too big, and that she needs a SpiderMan scooter and helmet just like one of the kids in her class. She has reminded me several times since yesterday morning that we still have not gone to get her a SpiderMan scooter and helmet.
Squirt's class came in second in the tug of war. There was some controversy at the end of the war about whether or not the winning team's teacher (a man) helped the team. It was determined that he did not in fact cheat, although I am not sure the rest of the third grade agreed! There were no hard feelings though. Squirt's class even shared their pizza with the winning team at the end of the day!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
You say Couch Potato, I say CrouchPotato
You’re probably asking yourself “Why The CrouchPotato Spud Report? “. I picked up the handle CrouchPotato in college from a friend who had a nickname for everybody. Honestly, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with it to begin with. I had always hoped to pick up one of those awesome nicknames. There are so many cool ones out there. Movies are partly to blame for my high expectations. Iron Eagle gave us Maverick, Ice Man, Goose, Viper, Jester, Cougar, Wolfman, Slider, Merlin, Hollywood, and Stinger. Then there are the classics… The Duke, Old Blue Eyes, The Rat Pack.
The fact I grew up surrounded by men with great nicknames doesn’t help either. I grew up in the oil fields of West Texas, surrounded by men of solid character and hard work ethics. One of the most memorable nicknames, in my mind, was given by my grandpa to a guy with the last name Leak. The guy was young and grandpa proclaimed him too small to be a leak and dubbed him “Drip”. As far as I know that nickname is still with the guy. It’s not one you get away from easily. Then there’s my dad. A man of high standards, rock-solid ethics, strong character, wisdom and a heart of gold. A man doesn’t survive more than forty years in the oil business as a welder without those things and several dozen guardian angels. It’s a hard and unforgiving career choice. Among my group of friends, he picked up the nickname Torch from a college buddy of mine. You’d think he picked it up because of his skill with the tools of his trade. But you’d be wrong. In spite of his attention to detail and understandable obsession with safety, he still must rely on others to do their part on the job. Reassurances of a separator vessel (used to separate petroleum components from water) being purged and only containing brine water were apparently premature. As he cut the steel lines loose from the vessel, flammable petroleum still in the vessel ignited and proceeded to spew onto the ground. As he managed to pull himself and his equipment out of the path of liquid fire, he watched as it scorched the paint off everything in its path. Thankfully nobody was hurt. This is frequently not the case with oil field accidents. But the paint job on the drilling rig was effectively “torched”.
Over time, of course, I have come to two realizations about nicknames. First, it wasn’t the nicknames that made the people so cool. Quite the opposite. It was the people behind the nicknames that I admired and respected. I have been fortunate to know many great men and women whose paths have crossed with mine. I have endeavored to learn from them and seek their counsel. They are respected among their friends, family and colleagues. Which brings me to realization number two: There is no higher honor than to be given a nickname by a friend, regardless of the name you’re given.
I wear CrouchPotato as a badge of honor and wouldn’t trade it for the world. So what about the spud portion of this blog? With a little creative license, a nickname offers limitless opportunities. I have a whole “spud” family now… My wife, who married into the CrouchPotato nickname. Willingly and knowingly, I might add. And of course my two little spuds have picked up nicknames of their own… Squirt and Scooter. I suspect my son will outgrow Squirt at some point. Scooter may actually stick with my daughter for some time. I hope one day to be the man behind the nickname worthy of their respect and admiration. I hope they, too, have friends that love them enough to give them a nickname they can call their own.
Something New
So after becoming a dedicated follower to a couple of friend's blogs, I have decided to try one of my own. This will be a new experience for me, as I haven't always been much of a writer. Maybe I can get Eric to ghost write for me. Anyway, stay tuned for more reports to come as I set off to keep a journal of the life and happenings in the world of the CrouchPotatoes!
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