Chance Encounters

Sometimes while we are busy cruising through our lives we have those special moments that just happen. It's something someone does or says that totally changes how we look at things or how we feel about something. I'm sure if you really sit and think about this, you can dig up a few times in your life when something totally remarkable has happened. If you're like me you can also remember the time, place and faces that were involved. It can be a pretty wild thing, and sometimes you just have to share them.

Here is mine; correct that, here is OURS!

This past fall while attending LifeLight 2009, my wife and I were busy cruising through the vendor tent chasing Isaiah and his little friend Anna. While also fighting the crowd and deciding if we really "needed" to buy anything, Anne picked several things. Isaiah and Anna ended buying flashlights for themselves and Anna's sister. We kept on moving and as we passed a table at the very end of the tent we were both drawn in to the hats they were selling. They had a selection of hats that were a modern day way for people to spread His "Word" while wearing a very fashionable hat. The brand was called SpiritDomes. They had 8 hats to choose from and each one told a story. The coolest thing about the hat was it was created to define a specific Bible verse that was printed underneath the visor. Can you think of a better way to get young people today excited about showing their faith than on a hat!

I debated and tried to convince myself I had enough hats, which I probably do! However, Anne had other ideas. She marched up to the man working Craig as we know him now, and asked about the hats. She also asked if there happened to be a hat with the verse Isaiah 40:31 on it. This being our son's verse, she thought that would be pretty special. He said that there wasn't a hat with that verse but they are open to suggestions for future initiatives. He gave us his card and said to email him and they would consider that verse at some point. As we turned to walk awaywith me carrying my new SpiritDome in hand; Craig called us back.

He noticed that we were all wearing the same Isaiah 40:31 shirt from Isaiah's fundraiser. He wanted to know why we had the shirts on and why the verse was so important. We introduced him to my son Isaiah and explained why the verse was so important to us. We briefly mentioned Isaiah's story and also how we had recently learned of Isaiah's visits with Jesus while in the hospital. Craig was in awe and said he wanted me to contact him after LifeLight. He said he felt compelled to create a hat for Isaiah.

A few days after the festival I found Craig's card and decided to take a shot to see if anything would materialize. Not really knowing if anything would come out of it, I sent a message saying who we were and that we had talked to Craig at the festival. I promptly got a message back from the founder of the SpiritDomes brand, Tom Demitry, requesting that I call him so we could chat.

Tom wanted to hear about Isaiah's story and wanted to know about our family. He asked about where we were with our faith. While talking with Tom, I got to hear his story as well. This spun us into realizing a whole list of things that brought us together---God Things, if you will!

We talked for 45 minutes that first time, and have been in constant contact ever since. Tom and his partners decided that they wanted to create a hat in honor of Isaiah and his story. They took the verse Isaiah 40:31 and Craig created the front of the hat to resemble what he had envisioned when he thought of that verse. It looked Amazing!

Next, he took it one step further and used Isaiah's visit with Jesus to put a picture on the back of the hat. It looked Incredible!

Tom and Craig with SpiritDomes have been an amazing group of people to work with. They have created something that completely embodies the story of Isaiah's life and it only gets better.

They have decided that they will give a portion of the proceeds to the charity of our choice. And what better way than to say thanks to the place that has allowed Isaiah's story to be told. We will be donating the funds to the Children's Hospital of Minneapolis. The very place of which we were able to walk out of the door with Isaiah in tote and able to share his miraculous story with you all.

Obviously this is an exciting thing for us! Isaiah thinks it is pretty cool to have a SpiritDome with his name attached to it. Someday he will fully understand what has really transpired and how awesome a story he has to tell. For now, we are ecstatic to be able to share with you the Isaiah 40:31 SpiritDome and hope that you would consider supporting this ministry effort in helping us say thank you to the Children's Hospital of Minneapolis.

You can check out the featured Isaiah 40:31 hat here at: http://www.spiritdomes.com/ or contact Anne or myself to purchase oneto help support a worthy cause. The SpiritDomes team has made a huge leap of faith in trying to get the "Word" out to the younger generation and I feel that this is an amazing way to accomplish that goal. SpiritDomes are also quite stylish for people of all ages!

Please check out SpiritDomes today and help us disciple for Him while spreading His good Word to the world!

Pass the Salt!!

What does this statement mean to you?

"Pass the Salt"

For some it may remind them of a very catchy Jimmy Buffett song.

Others might think of a simple request from someone sitting on the other side of the dinner table.

While others still just might see it at a deeper level.

Let me elaborate a little.

I am going to take you back in a time for a just a minute...

In Biblical times salt was a very important substance. It was used to preserve food as well as to flavor food that was bland. The power that salt had was extremely valuable to most.

At the same time salt was also used in other ways. It was used by the "Great One" to describe people. People were called to be "Salty". What that means we will get to in a minute.

Let's talk about salt as a substance first. "In Jesus' day salt was obtained from evaporation from the Dead Sea, but it was far from pure. It was often mixed with greater or lesser concentrations of other salts. It is possible for all of the Sodium Chloride to be leached out of a mixture of salts so that all that is left is stale and useless." (quote)

I know what you are thinking right now. Who cares?

What is the big deal with salt? We put it on food and it makes things taste better.

Exactly!

It makes things "taste better".

So now for the question of the day.

Are you "Salty"?

No, I don't mean do you taste like salt. What I am driving at is do you "taste better than you look?".

We just read about how salt can look the part but at the same time not have the taste or zing it is expected to.

Are you that kind of salt?

Do you have the look of a Christian, but lack the taste or zing of one.

We can sit in the front pew, never miss a Sunday service and wear our "Church Clothes". But are we truly Salty?

If someone could look inside your heart, mind and soul, would they really find a believer. It is easy to look like salt but it is much more work to taste like it.
So how do you taste?

Or do you just look like salt?

I want to you leave you with a question that you may have heard in the past but it might help to decide just how salty you are...

If you were on trial for being a Christian, Would there be enough evidence to convict you?

Now, Pass the Salt!!

Have you said the words?

I started a post a few weeks ago. I never finished. I don't know if I ever will. It is one of those things that we have the best of intentions to finish but now it has lost its luster and my excitement for those particular words has gone.

I thought.

As I logged on today to check on other bloggers I noticed that one that was unfinished. Why had I started? Something made me start, something also made me not finish.
I quickly read through the little bit that I had managed to complete and realized why I hadn't finished. I wasn't ready. It wouldn't have been enough at the time. It was all timing.

So, here I am, almost a month later ready to finish. Rather, start over.

Here goes my second shot.

A month ago I attended the Lifelight Festival with my family and as some have come to call it, Framily. It was a great experience. One that took an entirely different meaning this year for me. The past Lifelights that I had attended were 95% for the music, 3% for the great food and maybe the other 2% for the worship and fellowship.

This year was different. I am not going to give percentages, but I feel if you know me you can probably do the math. Might I also add that I didn't have any boughten food this year.

Also, if you look at the picture posted with this blog you can see the main reason this year took on a whole new meaning.

LOVE!

We heard about it all weekend. Story after story of how love can conquer so many things. Last year for more than a month I posted on a different format daily. Almost every time it was ended with "Love to all". I meant it!

It's not a word that in the past I have used very freely. More reserved for those within my very tight circle and even then used very sparingly. Even my own step-father wasn't privileged enough to hear those words for many years. I felt that if I told him I loved him that it would take something away from my dad, Larry. How wrong I was.

"Standing" at Lifelight this year, thinking back one year and looking around me got me thinking. Real Hard.

What is Love? Why have I been so tight with the word?

Today is the fifth birthday of the little man that truly taught me what the word LOVE is all about and why it shouldn't be kept in. It needs to be shared and it needs to be heard.

It's a word that in the past 13 months has come from my mouth, and more so from my heart, more than ever.

It has also been truly felt by me.

It is not always easy to tell someone you have only known for a short time that you Love them but it sure feels good. For that matter it isn't easy to tell someone you have known for a lifetime that you Love them, but it sure feels great.

It can be a little intimidating to look at 475 pound man and say those words, but when the giant says them back it can make your day.

The words might not come as easy as one would want them to, or they might not feel as comfortable the first few times they appear.

But it is worth it.

Look at the picture above again. It was the Love I saw and felt when I looked right next to me at Lifelight. That is the love of a mom holding a son that means the world to her. The love in that picture is indescribable.

Can you see the LOVE?!?

Have you told the people you need to that you Love them?

Please do so!

Stop holding onto the words that can change someones life!

Shoes!

The challenge was thrown down. A line drawn in the sand. Who amongst us was strong enough to rise to the occasion?

More than 35 people sat in the small room. Grouped into "families" and not knowing what each hour was going to bring. Surprise after surprise left some overwhelmed, others feeling excited and yet there were a few that were still a little confused.

Myself, I was among the latter. It had been three days with people that had quickly become my family and knew me like only brothers could. My story was their story, and their lives mirrored mine. It was as if we were put together after an intensive background check. However, no paperwork had been filed to provide that type of information. We were grouped in ways that no one could have imagined and the similarities within our circle could have only been known by One.

The weekend had been amazing up until the line was drawn for me. Although there was no sand I could see the line clearly. Well, maybe not clearly. It may have been blurred a little through the river of tears flowing from my eyes.

As the speaker wrapped up his talk he spoke of John 13, if my mind serves me right. He spoke of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples and receiving Jesus into their hearts. It was a very intense and touching moment and there were many tears while he talked.

Then the challenge came. "Who among you will take off your shoes today, stand, and allow Jesus into your heart?" was the question that was posed next. I am not sure who, how many or when people stood. I didn't need to know that.

I was still sitting. My shoes were still on. I don't need to stand up. I have Jesus in my heart. I do good things. I don't need to do this thing he is asking us to do. I'm a teacher. I go to church. I have been baptized, confirmed and married in the church. I am good to go!

Right?

Then the man spoke, Again.

"I ask you again", came the voice, "Who among you will take off your shoes, stand and take Jesus in your heart?" An older gentleman next to me removed his shoes and stood. Immediately he was surrounded by others who wanted to help him with this amazing moment.

I am not sure what happened next, or why.

I guess I probably do know why.

But my size 9.5 Nike Shox were now lying next to my feet. And all of a sudden I was standing. Right there in the middle of the room. I was standing, with shoes off, in the middle of a group of people I had met only 3 days prior.

Tears pouring down my face as person after person slowly walked over, placed their hands on my shoulders and prayed. Prayers of thanksgiving, prayers of a release and prayers of a weight lifted off of my shoulders.

I couldn't tell you how long I stood there. It felt like an eternity. But it felt Good. For the first time in a long time, a sense of peace consumed my body. Peace that only comes when a person realizes that their way is not the only way. A peace that comes when you turn everything over to God and let him in. I let him in.

I did just that!

I took my shoes off!

I stood up!

Seeing Jesus is REAL!!

Have you seen Jesus?

I can't say I have.

But I know someone who has!

His name is Isaiah. He is my son.

And he is only four!

Let me give you a really quick refresher before I go into the juicy details.

Last August Isaiah was admitted to Children's Hospital in Minneapolis with HUS, a complication associated with E Coli. He was intibated for six days and had a total stay in the hospital of 30 days. Thankfully we were fortunate enough to be able to take Isaiah home with us and today he is an average four year old with energy to burn. We knew he was a sick little boy, but apparently never realized how close we were to....JESUS!!

So, today, Isaiah and his mom and brother went swimming at his aunt Sissy's house. A fun filled day of swimming in the pool and running around the yard on a 90 degree day. The day was just like any other. And the hospital stay 10 months ago was the furthest thing from any one's mind.

Well, on the way home from Sissy's house Isaiah asked Anne, his mom, if the Easter Bunny was real.

She replied, "of course the Easter Bunny is real, why?"
He proceeded that at T-ball last night some of the other kids had told him the Easter Bunny was not real and that he still thought it was. Anne agreed and his beliefs were confirmed.

Then came the deepest question you can imagine a four year old to ask.

"Mom, do you think Jesus is real?"
To which Anne replied, "Of course he real? What do you think?"

The rest of this story is unbelievable. 100% true and amazing!

When posed with the question that was shot right back at him Isaiah didn't even hesitate.
He simply said, "Yes, Jesus is real. He was on my bed when I was in Minneapolis. He told me that I was safe and that he would always be around me."
Wow, was all Anne could think. Speechless at this point she managed to squeak out, "Did he tell you anything else?"
"Yes, He told me that I needed to go play with my friends some more!"
What can you possibly say to that?
Is there anything that proves that Jesus was right there with my little man more than that?
How can you argue the reality of Jesus being with us while we were in that hospital?
Isaiah is a pretty creative little four year old but would not be able to imagine a scenario like this.
Unbelievable.
I believe his story 100%.

However, it gives me chills to know that Jesus was really there talking to him and telling him to go play some more.

What does that mean?

Were we really that close to losing him? Was his body telling him that it couldn't fight anymore but something greater came and said "Yes, Go be a kid, you have so much more to do!"
The thought of it scares me. It brings me to my knees. It gives goosebumps all over my body.
It is a true story.
It is from the mouth of a four year old.
It is Jesus at his finest.
Thank you Jesus for the gift of allowing my son to play with his friends for a while longer. For allowing him to come back to his family and bring joy to all of us again. For allowing me and his mother the opportunity to watch him grow and help him become a faithful follower of your word. Thank you Jesus!!
Seeing Jesus is REAL!!!

Behind the Walls of Gladiator Camp

Are you ready to stand up and fight?

Don't Wimp Out!

Why are you here?

How are you going to respond?

These are just a few of the questions/statements that were posed at "Gladiator Camp" this past weekend. What is this "Gladiator Camp"? In short, it's a nickname given to the prison that twenty-some men and myself spent four jam packed days of "reality" in. The nickname was given to the prison due to the amount of fights and altercations between the offenders behind the walls. The average age inside the facility is around 24, so there are a lot of egos that need to be stroked, and to these young men fighting seems to be the best way to do just that.

Enough about the name though. Let's get to reality.

The purpose of the visit was to bring a program called, Brothers In Blue (BIB), into the system. BIB brings offenders and brothers from the outside world together to spend time worshiping Jesus and hopefully answering some questions and steering others in the right direction. It is a totally voluntary event for the offenders and a privilege for the brothers from the outside.

Starting on Thursday, our days began by entering the facility at 7am and walking out of the doors around 8pm. The time in between there was spent witnessing some of the greatest things my eyes have ever seen. Which was hard because I think my eyes were filled with tears for over half of the weekend.
I can't tell you what touched me the most or what stands out as the biggest event of the weekend. There were so many awesome things that happened to all of the men inside that gymnasium turned chapel. Inside the gym the offenders and outsiders were put into small groups. Within my group there were drug dealers, addicts, burglars and some that never even mentioned their crime. I didn't care. I didn't need to know. They knew that. They understood that I wasn't there to judge them. And in turn they weren't there to judge me. Inside that gymnasium we were on an even playing field.

I entered the weekend knowing as little about what would happen as they did. We were one in the same. By the end of the weekend we were even more of the same.

We cried together as my brother-in-law poured out his heart and talked about his likelihood of losing his vision. We cried even more as he was anointed for healing by one of the pastors on hand.

We hugged and sang our hearts out as we sang a popular Hispanic song worshiping Jesus.

We sat in awe as outsider after outsider dropped life lesson after life lesson on us. Some of the most unreal stories that left everyone in shock and tears.

We danced, and did little kid actions, to a song raising Jesus' name. This is probably one of the most memorable moments of the weekend for me. As this song played, thirty some of the most hardened men I have ever met danced and sang like school kids doing a performance for their families. They yelled, laughed, hugged and danced. All this as prisoners passing by the gym looked in the window with confused looks. INCREDIBLE!!

We witnessed a first ever baptism for the BIB at Gladiator Camp.

We were privileged to share the experience of asking Jesus into the lives of at least 5 offenders. WOW!!

We sat in disbelief as an offender ended the weekend with his testimony. He left the room speechless as he emptied his heart out and was then embraced by the men that he once hated. Amazing!!

You might notice that I started a lot of sentences with "WE". That is because it was a WE WEekend. My new brothers and I experienced all of God's glory together. And it was wild.

I can't begin to tell you how amazing it was, maybe you got a sense of it. But I have not even come close to doing it justice. I would love to share it all but it would be impossible and writing it here would diminish its power.

Behind those bars is a brotherhood that gets forgotten by most. WE drive past them and most give them no thought. I was apprehensive, scared, nervous and very leery when I entered those walls. I didn't know what to expect or who I could trust. I no longer care about any of that. I met some of the most amazing people I have ever known. I met kids that have never grown up and don't know how. I met men that are in search of something bigger and better than themselves. And some of them found HIM!!

I do have one confession to make though. As one pastor was giving a talk, my mind wandered. I couldn't pay attention. I had something weighing on me. I needed to write something down. So while he gave his 3o minute talk, I wrote. The following is what happened on paper.

Before I share that though I would like you to consider a few things:

Are you going to Wimp Out?

Why are you here?
How are you going to respond?

Are you ready to stand up and fight?

Brothers In Blue

Because you chose to be here

Right here in this place

Only you can make the decision

To feel God's Holy Grace

How much he really loves you

Even though it may not feel so

Really good things are all around you

So let the blessings flow

In life we have our obstacles,

and those things that hold us down

Now is your chance to stand up

and leave Jesus with your crown

Bring HIS message with you

Love, and what is Good

Unto you has been given a family

Enjoy your new brotherhood. (BIB, 2009)

Peace and Love.

Mom

The majority of us would agree, "My Mom is the Greatest in the World". No matter who you ask, you will probably get this same reply. I am not sure if there is a scientific formula for calculating which mom is actually "the Greatest". I also highly doubt that anyone would really want to get those results as there would most likely only be one winner. Come to think of it, maybe there is/was a formula for this and the answer is....May 10, 2009.

This Sunday my mom is, "The Greatest in the World", and so is yours. There will be no competition. Every mom will win. My mom will win. My wife will win. It will be a day where we will celebrate the mom's in our lives and all that they have done. I could go on and on about the things that make my mom and my wife great mothers. You have probably even heard them before. My love, respect and complete awe of these women is unending. The things that I would write on their winning trophies would go on forever. They are amazing women and done incredible things in their lives.

The list is so long that I am not going to give it to you. Instead I am going to ask you to do something instead. I am going give you a list of 10 questions that I recently found on the Internet. These questions are not for you to answer. They are for you to ask your mom. Some of them might be a little bit forward but the honesty that you need to insist on will come in handy some day.

Our moms are filled with a vast amount of knowledge and compassion. These questions just might be a key to something new and unfounded in your relationship with your mom.

Please enjoy the questions, don't take them too seriously and write down the answers. They just might come in handy someday.

1. What's the one thing you would have done differently as a mom?

2. Why did you choose to be with my father?

3. In what ways do you think I'm like you?

4. Which one of us kids did you like the best? (this one is a little bit of a trick and might not really want the real answer, haha)

5. Is there anything you have always wanted to tell me but never have?

6. Do you think it's easier or harder to be a mother now than when you were raising our family?

7. Is there anything you regret not having asked your parents?

8. What's the best thing I can do for you right now?

9. Is there anything that you wish had been different between us -- or that you would still like to change?

10. When did you realize you were no longer a child?

Remember, you need to get honest answers from your mom. You will thank her later.

Love you Mom.

Happy Mothers Day.

Simply Trash

The picture above may seem simple enough. It looks like a bunch of trash in a trash can. It is. We, like most humans, keep our garbage in a large can. This provides easy access for our garbage man to dispose of the mess on Wednesdays.

However, if you look closely, this week it was not just ordinary trash. Look closer. What do you see? It may be hard to make it out but there on the right is a package that contained Easter eggs that were shaped like dinosaurs. Over on the left is an empty package that held 4 wonderfully colorful squirt guns. Both packages are empty. Both are on the top of the pile.

Call the local paper, right? What's the big deal about the trash this week?

Well, to me and you it may seem like nothing. To an unsuspecting 4 year old it came at the perfect time.

After spending the morning hunting for said Easter eggs, and pretend water squirting we were off to Grandma "Cycles" house for church and lunch. A simple task. Get everyone dressed and ready for 9 am church.

Hurry, hurry, hurry.

Does everyone have a change of clothes?

Do we have the diaper bag packed?

How about toys for in church so we can avoid the nursery?

Check, Check and Check.

Now, lets load it up and get on the road.

Isaiah, the excited four-year-old was the first out the door. I followed soon after with a baby in one arm and three bags hanging from the other. As I stumbled into the garage I barely missed stepping on the four-year-old, who had come to a complete stop right next to the garbage cans.

I quickly dumped all of my baggage and strapped the little one into his car seat and proceeded to get ready for Isaiah to get buckled in.
However, he was not at all ready. He was still staring at the garbage cans. I walked over to try and hurry him along with a gentle nudge and was greeted with a very curious look. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what was so amazing about the garbage can.

But Isaiah had.

Without hesitation he looked at me and said, "Daddy, the Easter Bunny was very nice this year and threw all of his garbage away in the trash can". Wow. Between my amazement at how foolish I had been about putting the garbage on top of the pile and how a little boy could see through that and compliment the Easter Bunny on his/her tidiness was incredible.

Unsuspecting!

Unassuming!

Non-judgemental!

Totally forgiving!

Oh, to have the compassion, love and simpleness of a four-year-old. He never once thought that Mom and Dad were the Easter Bunny. Just went straight to the most logical answer.

The Easter Bunny was here, and the Easter Bunny doesn't leave a mess.

How cool is that?

To have such faith in something so simple that there is no skepticism. There is no doubt.

Just faith that IT is real and IT happened!!

Imagine for a minute

"Imagine for a minute" were the words that caught my attention as I sat in the very last pew of our old country church. Above the ruckus of my one and four year olds I somehow caught what Jerry was saying to his congregation. Most times sitting in the way back, wrestling with the two little ones, I seem to miss most of the message. But today I was sucked in, if you will, and I managed to be consumed by his words.

"Imagine for a minute" he started.

"Imagine that next week you will be arrested." What? I haven't done anything wrong, certainly not of the caliber that would require the law to be involved and surely nothing that would require being arrested.

"Imagine that you are given a mock trial" I know for a fact that I haven't done anything wrong but then to have to go through a trial where I have no chance is ridiculous. That doesn't really happen. Or does it? I see it on TV how people are persecuted for things they haven't done but that is just TV, right?

"Now imagine that you are found guilty in this trial and walked through the streets to be humiliated and beaten" Again I tell you, I haven't done anything wrong!! Why are these people so angry? What have I done that was so bad? This is not justice. This is not how we are supposed to treat each other. Why do they want to hurt me and poke fun at me?

"Again imagine that you are put on public display, for all to see" By put on display you mean hang posters up and broadcast it on the news right? No? You mean nailed to a cross through my hands and feet and left there for people to come and spit insults and rage at? But why?


"Imagine calling out to your father for help and asking 'Why have you forsaken me?' and having those present mock you" I just want help. I don't understand why this is happening and why I have to endure all of this. No one should have to go through all of this pain and humiliation. Why are these people so angry?

"Imagine knowing that you will go through great pain. You will die and no one will try to save you" I have friends that will help, right? I have family that will stand up for me right? I hope. I am sure they would, wouldn't they?

I am sure you have already "imagined" who all of this is about. It seems so unfair. So ridiculous and beyond any realm of our reality. It seems almost too inhumane to be true.

But it is true. It is the story of all stories. It is the reason we are here and the reason we celebrate our faith.


Imagine what had to happen for you to be able to live how you do and be who you are! It's a pretty incredible story.

Update on Larry P.

A few weeks ago I posted some ramblings about my father Larry Peters. You can scroll down a little bit if you need a refresher.

My dad passed away suddenly when I was eight. It was not until my teens that I finally realized the magnitude of the event and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was sitting in my room and it smacked me in the face. At that moment, despite having a great life and wonderful parents, I made the connection of not being able to ever see or hear my dad again.

I mentioned in the post that I don't have any video or him or a recording of his voice. I don't remember at all what he sounds like and other than some pictures I even sometimes forget his face. Which does bother me at times, a lot.

I have heard from people that have lost loved ones in the past that they have been "visited" or had "signs" of their loved one show up. Mostly in dreams and some with rare occurences while awake even. I have been skeptical. I have also been jealous. Since his passing I can't remember a dream like those or a "visit" in which he was present.

That is...until now.

Just a few days after writing the post about my dad I had a dream, visit or whatever you want to call it. I am no more skeptical. I am no more jealous, other than I want another chance.

So here is the skinny on what took place. Sometime between me falling asleep and waking up I was magically whisked back in time to my moms kitchen.

104 N. Main, Inwood, Iowa.

It was a small kitchen. Old wallpaper. Old countertops. And same old kitchen table. There were a whole bunch of people just sitting around chatting, I can't tell you who all of them were. I am not sure they were even family. Everything was just like it was in 1988 when he passed away.

Except for two things. I was just as I appear today and I was holding Isaiah. Mikah didn't seem to be there, or at least I don't remember him being there.

After a little while, as we were all eating and conversing, he arrived. My dad walked and sat down at a folding table. It took me a minute to realize what was happening. But as I looked up and noticed him I could tell that he had been staring at me for quite a while and he had a huge smile on his face. I walked quickly over to him and we embraced. We hugged for what seemed like a long time and I cried. I was happy, sad and everything in between. I couldn't let him go, I wouldn't. But he had something else he wanted to do. He wanted to meet Isaiah. I introduced him to Isaiah and he had the biggest smile I have seen on his face. I could tell he was proud and excited to be there with us.

And that was it. It was over as quickly as it had started.

It was worth it.

I needed it.

It was incredible.

For me, I needed to see my dad. I needed to hold him and I needed to see him smile in approval. In my mind and heart I have always believed that he was proud of me and that he was having a good time watching me grow, but this was a way to justify all of those feelings.

He met my son. The 4 year old that I asked everyday, sometimes hundreds of times a day to watch over and to protect as he was hospitalized this last fall. I can't explain how awesome it felt to have him meet Isaiah and for me to know that he actually was there with us while we fought for Isaiah's life. Wonderful.

It may have been a dream. It may have been real.

All I know is that it was Terrific. It was perfect. It all came at the best possible time.

Believe it!!

Take the Plunge!!

For the next month I will be preparing my body and mind for total shut down. On April 18 I will dress in my 1980's apparel and head to a small dock on the side of the Big Sioux River. I will be joined there by thousands, maybe even hundreds of people. (sarcasm noted) I will wait my turn and when my name is called, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Marty McFly", I will walk to the end of the dock and peer into the cold and murky water.

One last big, deep breath will enter my lungs and my body will fling itself into the frigid water. The air will immediately be sucked from my chest. Every nerve in my body will spasm and every muscle will flex. The flowing water will push me downstream where a firefighter will quickly grab onto my frozen, disoriented body and try to guide me up a ramp onto solid ground.

This is not the first time I have taken the "Polar Plunge" and it certainly will not be the last time.

For the past 4 years, a group of teachers and friends of mine have gathered to enjoy this incredible event. It is not the water that draws us. It is not the many adoring fans. It is not the trophy for best costumes, that we have won every year, that brings us to the river.

It is simply the act of giving that keeps us wanting more.

The Polar Plunge is a fundraiser for the South Dakota Special Olympics. A great organization and a great event.

Each jumper is asked to raise at least $100 to be able to participate in the jump. Most people raise much more. $100 is a cake walk once you start asking people with big hearts. All of the money collected goes straight to the Special Olympics. It is incredible.

The act of jumping into the icy cold water is just the icing on the cake.

The real enjoyment is to be able to provide the Special Olympiads with a way to compete and the funding to keep them going. Several of the athletes even join us in our journey to the river.
These athletes are the ones that don't typically get their names on television or a pep rally when they are headed to a big game. They aren't recognized all over that state for being a champion and they most certainly don't get the hype that they deserve.

But on this day they are the "Champions". They are the Winners. They are recognized for their skills, effort and abilities. They are the true "Athletes" in our world. Always willing to help one another. Never worried about the end result or what the score was. Forever happy to be able to participate and be a part of the team. How awesome is that.
Can you imagine just being happy to be a part of the team?

Well you are!!

You can be!!

We are all on the same team!!

So if you aren't busy on April 18, come out and see the Polar Plunge and support the Athletes. If you don't live near our Plunge, find one of your own. Get a full body shock and help out a great group of people.

Take the Plunge!! (anyway you can)

Larry

**Note: This is a little rambling and I apologize if it is not entertaining. These are my thoughts.

Last Thursday was just your ordinary, run of the mill day. The actual date was February 12, 2009. Most likely it was just a regular day and pretty uneventful. For most people I observed it was like any other Thursday.
I got the opportunity to do a lot of observing that day as I traveled through airports on my way to a much needed vacation in Las Vegas.
However, this was no ordinary Thursday to me.
February 12 is not a regular day to me.
It is a day that comes once a year as a reminder of how quickly things can change, and how much things can change, in the blink of an eye.
February 12, 1988 was just like any other day for me. I was your typical small town 7 year old living the dream. I was in second grade and lived in a little town in Northwest Iowa. My days consisted of school, playing outside with friends and spending time with my parents. On this particular day I even had a Cub Scout meeting. My job at the meeting was to provide treats. Since I couldn't take the treats to school my dad was supposed to be dropping them off for me to share.
Well, the treats never came. Not a big deal to a seven year old. Life will go on. My Cub Scout meeting ended and I headed home. Distracted by the group of friends playing outside my house I quickly dumped all of my belongings inside the front door and began to run wild through the neighborhood waiting for mom and dad to come home, very typical of my childhood days.
At this time my dad was employed by the city of Inwood as the city maintenance man and was in charge of making sure everything was running smoothly. He was in charge of the snow removal, water and sewer systems and just about anything that keeps a town physically running.
After playing with friends for a while I was approached by a lady from City Hall. It seems they had been trying to get in touch with my dad for quite a while that day and the last they had heard he was headed to the "lagoon". In my mind the "lagoon" was a restaurant in another town and he was just talking with friends and would be back soon. Little did I know that the lagoon was actually a place where my dad and his partner checked on sewer type things for their jobs.
I told the lady I hadn't seen my dad but would tell my mom she was looking for him when she returned from work.
By the time my mom got home from work there was apparently a lot of action at the lagoon and it wasn't good. Our pastor met my mom and I on the street and informed my mom of the situation. I was too young at the time to totally understand what was happening but from retellings and years of hearing the story I have pieced it all together.
From what I understand now my father and his partner were working at the lagoon. By the way things appear, my dad's partner went into the hole to check on some numbers and was immediately asphyxiated from an unnoticeable gas. My dad realized that something wasn't right and went down to get him and was also asphyxiated. My father's body shut down so quickly that a cut on his head never even had a chance to bleed.
My dad and his partner were found some time later in the day laying at the bottom of the lagoon. This is the day that my life changed in the blink of an eye.
Like I mentioned earlier I was only seven so the complexity of the situation didn't really set in, and wouldn't until I was in my early teens. However, I could tell that what was happening was a big deal and was upsetting my mother.
The loss of a loved one is hard for anyone. Expected or unexpected it is still a traumatic event and not something that most people enjoy.

I can tell you that I am no different. It sucks!! Sorry for the choice of words but it does.

For as many positives that have come out of this horrible situation it is still something that seems to haunt a person on a regular basis. I drive by my dad every time time I go home to visit my mom and step dad.
I leave a quarter on his grave each and every time I visit him. I am not sure why I do but for some reason the quarter is gone every time I go back. I believe he has something to do with where it is going. Whether he is actually taking it or has little pets running up and taking them away.
Not having my dad here to talk to in person is hard. I have forgotten what his voice sounds like and that hurts. I don't have a video to go back to or a recording of his voice to play back.
But that void has been filled, to some extent, with a step dad that has done everything right and has taken me in as his own. For that I am forever grateful.
My first born son bears the name of my father as his middle name, Larry. He knows that Grandpa Larry is up in Heaven with Jesus and that he only needs to look out our front door at night and find "their star".
My wife's father is the man that would eventually take my dad's position for the city. He was also one of the first responders on the day my dad passed away. In such a large world I ended up marrying a girl that cried the day she saw the filled out application sitting on her table. She was afraid of her dad's fate, knowing what had happened to mine. Small world.
This may have gone in about thirty different directions but I don't mind. I didn't know where I was going when I started but I needed to write about my dad.
He was the proudest grandpa in the world.
He was the the happiest he had ever been.
He was just shy of a year sober and loving a new life.
He never hurt a fly, even mowed around the baby bunnies in out field at the park.
He loved his wife, kids and everyone he ever met.
He was my dad.
I miss him.
I want my sons to know him, and I am doing the best I can to show them who he is and was.
We will continue to talk to him and I will continue to try to make him proud.
He is remembered forever by the necklace I wear and his signature on my back.
He is with me always and I can't wait to be with him someday.
Love you Dad.

The Soap That Floats!

Since I am a 3rd grade teacher I am always trying to find new ways to 9 year olds excited about school. Lately my own personal interest has been in science. So in 3P we have started to do some hands on experiments. We have gotten wet, poked holes in water bags, built a scale to measure invisible gas and worked with the "Soap That Floats". Ivory.
Maybe you are familiar with this slogan, or maybe it has totally gone unnoticed. There is a bar of soap that claims to float. Not that impressive if you ask me. Who cares if a bar of soap floats? I don't know that it makes any difference to most. However, to a 9 year old, and especially to my 4 year old it is the coolest thing in the world.
The story goes something like this, but there are differing views on how it came to be. Here is the one I use to help the kids. When Ivory soap was being created in the late 1800's it was just your ordinary, run of the mill white soap. Then there was an accident. While mixing the soap ingredients, the mixer was left on while the workers went to lunch. Upon their return they found that the soap had become frothy and bubbly from being over mixed. Well, since the mixture going in was still the same they sent it off to be processed into bars of soap, not knowing that they would float. A month later people wanted more of the magic soap and so goes the story of Ivory Soap.
Whether you believe that the soap floats because it has extra air bubbles in it or not is up to you. I am not going to argue it with a class of kids that just want to know more about it. So we went exploring.
The soap does float. Yippeee. Glorious. Amazing. Floating is cool. Well, probably not that cool to kids that are used to XBOX, PS3 and Hannah Montana.
What else can this Magic Bar of White do?
Can we eat it? I wouldn't, it tastes bad.
Can it be squished? Not really, it breaks into pieces.
Well, what about the bubbles? If they put them in, how do we get them out?
Duh!!! A Microwave. Throw it in the microwave and see what happens.
So I brought in the microwave from the teachers lounge, sorry if your food tastes funny now, and we began to heat up the soap. Incredible. The bubbles couldn't get out any faster and look any cooler doing it. The kids will tell you that the bubbles get to going crazy when they are heated up and need to get out. The final product, as long as you don't roast it, is similar to the snakes that we light on July Fourth. The soap grows and expands in all directions and comes out looking like a tasty treat. I am sure some of them even tried it to just to double check.
To watch this miracle of science was totally shocking to the eyes of a 9 year old and even more so to an unsuspecting 4 year old.
Is this a miracle? Not to me it is not. I have seen things happen that far more unbelievable.

A miracle is an extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment. I would say this is true to the 21 sets of eyes that witnessed this. Miracles like this probably don't change lives or make us better people, and then again maybe they do.

Maybe this Miracle Soap will light a fire in a little mind and make them question, think and explore. Maybe the miracle is not the soap working its funky change. It might just be the Soap making a little boy or girl excited to learn and experience life.
Give the "Soap That Floats" a chance. Do it with a kid and see the miracle of science and life happen right before you eyes.

I promise you won't be disappointed.

In Heaven There is No Cancer!

A while back I wrote about saying "Goodbye" and what it meant to people. I also mentioned that we were getting ready to say this word to two of our friends. Both were battling cancer. Both were in hospice spending time with loved ones, and both were preparing themselves for the greatest "Goodbye" of their lives here with us. I am saddened, relieved, happy, and a whole assortment of words, to report that both Paul and Cheryl have been able to say their final "Goodbye".
I want to share a quick little story about a conversation I had with my sister the night of Paul's Goodbye.
It went something like this.
Michelle called to let me know that Paul had entered into Heaven. She told me that it happened earlier in the evening and that all of his children and his wife were able to be present. She mentioned that they were all doing quite well and that there was a sense of relief knowing that Paul was in a much better place and the pain was gone. I told her I was happy for them all and then asked the question that gave me an unexpected answer. I asked her how Scott, Paul's son and my good friend, was doing. Well, he was doing as good as can be expected but he did make a comment to her that really stuck out. He said, "There is no cancer in Heaven".
Wow. Powerful. Wonderful. Amazing. No more pain. No more fear of the unknown. Now there is running, jumping, fishing and reading stories to little kids. God is good and Paul is now strong and amazing. And likewise for Cheryl. They are both in a place that there is no more cancer. There is no more unknown. There's only love.
Like I said, Scott's words spoke to her and they spoke even more to me. I couldn't get them out of my head. They were with me every time I turned the corner or looked out a window. When things like this stick to me so strongly I have a tendency to write. I sat at work all day and thought and thought about Paul and Scott and their entire family.
And, now today I am sitting here and thinking about Cheryl and her family as well.
As I sat at school I started to just jot things down throughout the day and below is the finished product that I shared with Scott and his family. God Bless.

In Heaven There is No Cancer!

It comes when you least expect it
It slowly creeps right in
There’s no reason for who it chooses
But it tries its best to win
For some it gets caught early
And can be treated and is gone
Yet others aren’t as lucky and
It’s stay is way too long
Age is not a factor
Nor is gender, race or size
For all it really wants to do
Is come and ruin lives
There are those that fight and battle
And are lucky to see another day
Then those that give great effort
But slowly fade away
It may be unforgiving
And brutal to the core
There may not be an answer
For some no earthly cure
But do not be mistaken
Because there is ONE simple answer
God is watching over you and,
In Heaven there is NO Cancer!!

Shopping Anyone?

Raise your hand if you enjoy shopping?

Now, Keep your hand up if you want to go shopping?

Still up?

Alright, leave your hand in the air if you want to go shopping with a four year old and a ten month old?

Why did you put your hand down?

Exactly. This past weekend, my wife and I came up with the brilliant idea to bundle up our family, on a below zero day, and make our way to the local shopping mall. My wife had a list of things we needed, and some that we just wanted. It wasn't a huge list. The usual diapers, formula and milk, and then the non-essentials of clothing, shoes and some giftcards that were burning a hole in her purse.

Great idea!! Let's pack up the crew and head out. The mall is supposed to be a one-stop shop. Bing, Bang and out. Right?

Not on this day. Our four year old had plans of his own and our 10 month old didn't want anything to do with any of the plans that were made. Besides the frigid temperatures, every store we entered was much too small for our giant sized double stroller. Leaving me to fend for myself and battle every obstacle, no matter how big or small. To add to the frustration of maneuvering this beast were the two little arms that randomly grabbed anything and everything that came within reach.

Then there was a four year old that decided shopping just wasn't on his master agenda for the day. However, riding in every coin operated car, rocketship or boat was very appealing. His plan left us kicking and screaming every 50 feet or so as coin operated machines are strategically placed in most shopping malls. I am sure there is a great reason for having soo many of these machines so close together but I fail to see it at this point in time.

After 2 hours of trying to pry little hands off of clothing racks, racecars and every other obstacle the towel was thrown in. We were extremely unsuccessful at any type of shopping, only garnering about 1/4 of what we had intended. We were, however, successful at carrying a screaming 4 year old through a crowd of people, and getting home in time for all of us to crash and take 2 hour naps.

I start to think that our lives are starting to slow down and that things will get easier and easier for us as we grow as a family. This does not seem to be the case. When one obstacle gets surpassed, there tends to be another one just waiting to be met. This great idea to go shopping quickly turned into a reminder that our plans just don't always work out and to just roll with punches.
Maybe it was a not so subtle way to let us know that we all needed to just stop and relax. I am typically not a napper, so a two hour snooze is very unusual. Or maybe it was a sign to tell us to slow down and not try to accomplish so much in one day. Just enjoy our family and the time we have together. Or maybe, just maybe, it was just as simple as this... Kids don't like shopping!!

Letter to Anna and Lydia, Remember to Play

Last night we were informed that our friend Paul had passed away and was in heaven. It didn't come as a surprise to us as he had been battling cancer.

As we got ready for bed it was on all of our minds and deep in our hearts as we thought of all of the loved ones that he left behind. Two of them came to mind more than others. Paul was an awesome grandpa to his grandkids, and we have been privelaged to get to know two of them very well. Our 4 year old, Isaiah, has become good friends with Lydia and is especially fond of Anna. They are all roughly the same age so they all play together when Isaiah gets the chance to visit his Aunt Sissy.

While we were tucking Isaiah into bed lastnight we decided to mention the passing of Paul. We said that Anna and Lydia's grandpa was in heaven and with Grandpa Larry now. We said our prayers. My wife prayed for the family of Paul and the two little girls, and I followed with some of the same. Then it was Isaiah's turn. He wasn't exactly sure how to start it off or what really to say, so he copied some of our lines initially and then got the hang of it. The following is a transcript of what he said. It is not exact as I cannot remember it word for word but it is as close as I can come.

Isaiah- "Please let Anna and Lydia get a good nights sleep and their mommy and daddy too. Make sure they are safe and that they are not sad now. Make sure that they look at "the star" in the sky where their grandpa is. (Isaiah has a special star that he watches. It is Grandpa Larry. If you want to see it look to the west and it is the brightest one up there) When they wake up they can play with lots of trains so that they will happy, I like trains, except that they probably don't have trains because they are girls, so they have lots of girl toys that they will play with to be happy. Maybe I can play trains with them when I see them so they are happy. Let them sleep good tonight and have a good day tomorrow. Amen"

So to the family of Paul. Please know that we are thinking of you, all of you. This is a happy and a sad time. Let all emotions flow. And in the words of a 4 year old boy, remember to play. I am sure Paul would want you too.

Love to all.

Goodbye?

As I am writing today it is with a heavy heart. Two people in my life are both in the same hospice center fighting for their lives. Both of them have fought very courageous battles with cancer and are now nearing the end of their fight.
I cannot say that I know Paul extremely well, but I have been a witness to his handy work. One of his sons is a good friend of mine and I don't think there is a better way to tell what kind of man a person is than by meeting their children. And I can tell you that in my eyes, Paul is a great man. He has done great things for his family and is now getting ready to say, "goodbye".
Then there is Cheryl. I have known her for some time now and her husband actually built our house. (an exact replica of theirs) She is a carpool partner with my mother-in-law, and a very good friend of the family. Her accomplishments in life include being a mother and an extremely proud grandmother. She, also, is preparing to say, "goodbye".
Which brings me to my reason for writing today. The word Goodbye. What does it actually mean? It can mean a host of things to a great number of different people. Today I got an email from my sister that was asking this same question, and giving her thoughts on the topic. A quote that I thought was provoking was this, she wrote "I can't be sad for those who pass on...yes, I will miss them dearly but I am happy for them, for they are celebrating".
How cool is that? We need not be sad for those that are passing on. They are going to a better place where they will celebrate a new life, in a now home with a new family. Yes, as she states, they will be sorely missed, and the voids left will be felt for a long time. However, it is not supposed to be a sad time for us. We are living on borrowed time and eventually it will be our chance to go and experience the celebration.
Is goodbye supposed to be a sad thing or happy thing? I can't really say. I have experienced being able to say goodbye. To be able to sit and ponder the past and have those last days and moments was truly a blessing. It was also extremely hard to see a person that was a mere shell of what they formerly were.
I have also experienced not being able to say goodbye. My father passed away suddenly when I was eight and there was no chance at a goodbye. Or was there? My goodbye came the morning of his passing as he walked out the door. I was eating breakfast and he was off for work. We said goodbye to each other. I didn't get the last few days of his life to relive the past of go over things left unsaid. He was just gone when I returned from school. However, I do have a lasting image of a strong, capable man that could fix anything and love anyone.
So which is a better way to say goodbye? I don't know if there is one. Each has its own benefits. I do know that we all have that chance to say goodbye, you just might not recognize it as the "last" time you will say it. My advice to you, and something I am striving to do myself, is to make ALL of your Goodbyes count. Make sure that the person you are wishing goodbye to knows that you mean it. It doesn't have to be a bad or a sad word. In my sisters words it can simply mean, "see you tomorrow".
I will leave this post with a song that has been in my head for a long time now. It is a song that speaks to me personally about the ones that I have said goodbye to. I hope you enjoy.
GOODBYE- Audio Adrenaline
You'll be fine tomorrow
The sun will rise
again It's never easy to say goodbye
You know I'll always love you
You know I always will

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye My old friend (my old friend)
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye We've reached the end (we've reached the end)

I don't cry for sorrow,
I cry with joy
The memories we've made can't be destroyed
You know I won't forget you
You know I never could
And when I said I loved you
You know I meant for good


Love to all,
Goodbye

Time? What is your "time"?

Almost 5 months ado to the day, 8-15-08 to be exact, I was escorted to a waiting plane at the local airport. I didn't get to take a limo, or even a taxicab. I was loaded into the back of an ambulance with my 4 year old son that was strapped to a bed. The flight wasn't planned so that we could enjoy a family vacation or even go and see some long lost relatives. It was an impromptu journey into the world of the unknown.
What I mean by that is, it brought us to a place that we were not familiar with physically, and a place where time seemed to stand still. You see, my son was entering the beginning stages of a month long battle with HUS, a disease brought on by E. Coli.
The place was Children's Hospital in downtown Minneapolis. A place that I would hope most people never need to visit, but if that need arises the best place in the world to be. It was a place where children came to fight for their health and the people that surrounded them were the best in their profession.
The time was...well, you already know the date but I want to be more specific than that. The time was a time that will, and has, changed the lives of many people. It was a time in our lives, my immediate family, that clocks seemed to move slowly or not at all. The days passed by at an overwhelmingly slow pace. Each day felt like the one before and at times the saying, "each day is better than the next" seemed to be very true.
It was a time in our lives that didn't need to be spent away from home, especially hundreds of miles. This was supposed to be a healing time for my wife, who 8 days prior underwent a bilateral mastectomy to help ease the anxiety and fears of breast cancer. We were supposed to be helping her, allowing her the time to relax and recover from a major surgery.

It was a time when were to be enjoying our last days summer and preparing for a busy year at school. Our four year old would be preparing to enter preschool and playing outside with his friends. Likewise, our five month old was supposed to be spending quality time with us as we would soon get him ready and comfortable with daycare and being away from his home.

Instead of all these well made plans coming to fruition, the clock stopped and uprooted all of our "reality".

You see, five months ago, I sat in a hospital room far from my home and security. I wasn't thinking about getting my classroom ready for school. Or mowing the lawn or even making sure the garage door was closed when I pulled out of the driveway. My wife was not thinking about relaxing, laying in a bed to heal and being catered to so that she could get back to life. Daycare was not even being considered, and preschool was something that would have to wait for another day.

As I sat in that hospital room, watching my oldest son fight for his life, I realized some things. Actually many things, but for now I will share this.

My time is not mine. Clocks, calendars and schedules do not care who I am or what I do. All of these were what I would have defined "time" as five months ago. I do not control the next minute in the day and I do not have a say in where I will be tomorrow or next month. On August 8, I enjoyed a petting zoo with my son and had the best laid plans set out in front of me. Seven days later, I was reminded, NO make that slapped in the face with the reality, not to get comfortable with my time.

My time still consists of clocks, calendars and schedules, because it has to.

However, my "new time" is much different than that. Now, I would define "time" with many different words. I am a husband that devotes my time to growing with my wife and experiencing life with her. I am a father that tries to set a good example and guide two young boys along the path to manhood. I am a teacher who attempts to mold young minds into caring people and lifelong learners. I am a son, brother and friend that strives to be the best that I can be. And finally, but not necessarily last, I am a Christian man that has found out one major thing. I do not control the "time" that is given to me but I trust that the time will allow me a few things.
To be the dad my boys need, the husband my wife desires and the brother, son and friend people in my life want to be around. If I can accomplish all of these things in my "time" here I will be able to spread my faith and love to those that I come in contact with.

So what is "time" to you? Is it a clock, a calendar or a certain schedule you adhere to? Or is it more? What does your "time" mean to you? Do you have to follow it exactly, or does it fly by and take you places that you never even dreamed possible?

I know what my time is!

From the mouths of Babes!

Here we are, a week removed from some of the nastiest flu bugs to hit our house in a long time. And possibly at the worst possible time. It started with Mikah and slowly worked its way down a line of about 15 people. Thankfully it has missed me up to this point, but it really took its toll on Anne and Isaiah just a few days into their surgery recoveries. Anywho, it really got me thinking about some things and my boys.
Ever since Isaiah has got his "new teeth" he has been on a talking rampage. The best I can figure is that it maybe hurt his little mouth to talk at times before, and now he is not having those same pains. Excellent news. To go along with his chatter we have to remember that he spends most of his days with his little brother, 9 month old Mikah, and a host of adult ladies that journey in and out of our house. So, most conversations that he has are with a babbling infant usually screaming "mamamama" or a grownup.
It is amazing how his language skills develop over time and to hear the things that he picks up on and tries to use at a later date. I will provide you with some examples that I have caught and if you have others, which I am sure you do, please share.
1. While battling the flu, and locked up in our bedroom and watching movies with mom for two days, "Dad, mom and I are homesick today aren't we?" He used this with the idea that he was at home and sick but it came out of his mouth as if he missed home.
2. After a fairly decent bout of throwing up his 7-up for the umpteenth time, "Wow, that was really alot of work." Smiled and then back to his movie.
3. When a huge sneeze came flying out of his little body just the other day, "That's what I've been waiting for"
4. In true Peters fashion of not being able to keep a secret he told Aunt Linda, "We got you a chicken CAR for your birthday." When in reality he had picked out a carD with buffalo wings on it. This all took place the day before her birthday as well.
5. Now just some random words that he likes to throw out periodically, "Hilarious", "Everytime", "Nuffin" and "Berry Sweet."

At times I can't wait for him to grow up and see what he does with his life and where the road will take him and his brother. He has experienced so many things in the past six months that the road ahead has to be amazing. I just can't wait for it. But on the other hand I am having a blast loving him, watching him grow and listening to the little things that come out of his crazy little mouth.

Here I am folks. After almost six months of doing a different type of blogging, www.caringbridge.com/visit/isaiahpeters, I am going to try moving to a different format. This will hopefully be a little less stressful, emotionally consuming and even uneventful. If you know of the year 2008 in my house, you will understand what I mean by the previous sentence. So here goes my first real post on, Peters In a Nutshell.

I am not a professional writer. I write when I feel the urge. There are no books with my name as the author. Only a handful of poems that I have written at various times in my life. In the past my writings have come at significant times in my life. Usually due to something dramatic happening. The loss of a loved one, illness, a memorable date or even just about something that made an impact on my life.
I hope to continue that process here for you to see. Many of poems are locked away somewhere in a box marked, "Colleges". Yes, you read that right, CollegeS. I attending many and the box and its contents is very large. Hopefully someday I will feel the urge to haul that box from its confines and share its little secrets on here. Maybe it will be something that has absolutely no interest to you. However, maybe it will be something that will make you think or just give you a grander picture of who I am.
At this point I have no schedule for posting on here. I hope to find the time to do it often, but can make no promises. I will try to get on as often as I can or as things pop up in my life that I feel are worth sharing. Until I post again though I will sign off the way I have been doing so on my sons caringbridge site.

Love to all