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Love People - Hate Stereotypes - Seek Truth - Challenge EverythingSteve Radford (1,017) ![]() ![]() Steve Radford ![]() They Grow Up FastPosted Monday, August 24, 2009 (75 days 8 hours ago.) Viewed 979 times. I spoke to a stranger at the restaurant where I had lunch today. Seated in a corner booth, he was about 30 and had his newborn daughter with him in a baby carrier. Going out in public with an infant gives everyone else license to speak to you and give you advice. It's an unwritten rule that countermands the normal etiquette of minding your own business. So I made my comment as I passed by. "Beautiful daughter you have there". He smiled. "Watch out, they grow up fast" I concluded as I made my way to my seat. Once seated, I thought of my own daughter. For a few moments, my mind forwarded through a mental slide show of scenes as she was growing up. There was a baby dedication at church in California , video of her first birthday, a chubby-legged soccer player and a cute 5 year old dance performer. Then came her first piano recital, complete with butterflies in the tummy; Dad's tummy. There were the drives to school and laughing together at random ideas taken to ridiculous extremes. "To speed the carpool lane up, what if they put out a big net? Then parents could drive through at full speed and the kids could just jump out into the net!" There was her first date, her first performance of her own original music and, too quickly, her first day of school as a senior in High School. The arrival of my food brought me back to the present. Turning slightly I glanced back at the booth in the corner. I noticed a man in his mid forties. Seated across from him was a beautiful teenage girl. There is no doubt that she was his daughter. She had some of his facial features and they talked and laughed the way dads and daughters are supposed to. The man looked up and we made eye contact. They grow up fast indeed. Permalink Comments (13) I'm Not Dead Yet!Posted Sunday, May 31, 2009 (160 days 11 hours ago.) Viewed 1,384 times. One of my favorite scenes from the 1975 comedy, Monty Python and The Holy Grail, depicted a medieval village during a terrible plague. A man is leading a cart down the narrow street loaded with corpses and yelling out "bring out your dead". Out of a doorway comes a young fellow with an elderly man slung over his shoulder. "Here's one!" he yells and offers up the standard payment. The old man raises his head and objects "I'm not dead", which stalls the transaction and leads to a funny exchange between the undertaker and the younger man. "I'm getting better", the old man offers. But the young guy is determined to unload the old fellow as hopeless. If you're over fifty and especially if you're over fifty and looking for a new job, you may feel like the old man in the Monty Python movie. No matter what you have done or can still do, it feels like someone is determined to toss you on the undertaker's wagon. Don't buy it. If you're still breathing, raise your head and proclaim that you're not dead. Each of those wrinkles represents a tough problem solved. Each gray hair, a stressful situation endured. Don't get discouraged. Use your experience to overcome. If you're worried because others can text, tweet and chacha faster than you, hire a fourteen year old kid to teach you how. It will cost you a couple bucks for a burger and Coke and probably take about ten minutes to learn. And it will give you a slight advantage over most of your peers. While you have the kid's attention, take an extra five minutes to teach them to have a firm handshake and look people in the eye when conversing. It will give them a slight advantage over most of their peers. You have solved problems, resolved conflicts and devised solutions without the benefit of the internet. You can find your way to the grocery store without a GPS. You can calculate percentages in your head without the benefit of a laptop. You know how to improvise. So stay sharp, keep learning and keep going up stairs two at a time. The world needs you to stay engaged. Never give up. You're not dead yet. Permalink Comments (9) Bringing Prayer to Life: Praying For OthersPosted Wednesday, May 06, 2009 (185 days 10 hours ago.) Viewed 132 times. There are a lot of hurting people these days. Financial pressures, marital problems, illness. As part of a community of people who believe in God, it's common for someone to ask that you pray for them or their situation. How should we pray on behalf of someone else? I believe God wants us to do it. But it seems strange to bring the situation to God as if He hasn't been paying attention and needs a briefing from us. It feels equally absurd to suggest solutions to God as though He was having trouble coming up with something. If someone is struggling financially, should I pray that God will provide more money? Maybe they're learning an important lesson in trust as they reach the end of their resources. If a friend is dying of cancer, should we pray for healing? Should we ask God to limit their pain or that they will die peacefully? If you have ever wondered how to pray for people in need or even why to do so, maybe something I experienced several years ago on a mostly empty, late night flight will help. Our family had relocated to a new city in the middle of the school year. Our daughter was a preschooler, so the move was easier for her. But our son was 10 years old. He had left all his friends behind and found himself the outsider at a new school. I couldn't find the words to pray but I knew I loved him very much and that he was struggling to fit in. With the reading light off, I leaned my head against the window of the plane and prayed silently. "God you know that I love my son. I want to help him but I don't know how. You know I would do anything, even die for him or our daughter without hesitation if called upon to do so." As I prayed that prayer at thirty thousand feet, God's presence was very real. It occurred to me that I was accompanied by the only one capable of loving our kids more than my wife and me. As I looked out the window into the darkness, I envisioned Jesus seated next to me looking down at my son. I didn't need to explain the situation to Him. He already knew. I didn't need to suggest solutions. I just needed to join Him in loving my young son. One who was willing to die for him, along side one that already had. With that image in mind, it was easy to say "I'm going to trust you on this". The memory of that flight provides a point of reference for me when praying for a friend that just lost a job or got a scary diagnosis from the doctor. Maybe God will send me to help them. Maybe He'll allow me to watch while he orchestrates their rescue. Or maybe He'll teach me something new about trust and peace as we love them together. Permalink Comments (3) The Little Red-Haired Girl Cries: A Story of ForgivenessPosted Sunday, April 19, 2009 (202 days 15 hours ago.) Viewed 1,307 times. The lights are out. The house is quiet. Mom and Dad are asleep. And the little red-haired girl cries. Another school year is almost over. Another year of teasing? No, teasing is something friends do to each other. Torment. Yes this has been one more year of torment. Why do they call her retarded? She's as smart as anyone in her class. The "squirrel" nickname, while cruel, at least makes sense. She has crooked teeth that are being straightened by braces. Sometimes a boy pulls a girl's hair or gives her a little shove while standing in the lunch line. She'll go home and ask why boys are so mean. Her mom will explain that boys do that sort of thing because they want her attention and that they probably like her. But there is something else happening to this girl. You don't hold a girl's head under the water fountain to get her attention. None of the taunting is intended as playful foolery or flirting. Its purpose is to hurt and it is working as the little red-haired girl cries. Most people go through awkward stages. Their feet seem too big or their body appears to be all elbows and knees. But they grow out of it. And so will the little red haired girl. The braces will come off, the muscles will take shape and the target of torment will become the object of someone's affection. But that's impossible to imagine tonight. Tonight the little red-haired girl just cries. Not too long ago, the little girl's mother detected a problem. The story of torment came out. How it must have hurt the mom to hear what her little girl is enduring. She goes to the school to see if they can help. A few of the kids see this as a new weapon of torment. Now they can say insulting things about the little girl's mother. But as the little red haired girl cries, she cries out to God. God why do they pick on me? How should I react? What can I do or say to make them stop? The tears and questions eventually give way to sleep. When she wakes, she has the answer! She knows what she has to do. It won't be easy. The boy that leads the bully brigade is twice her size and seems to get more belligerent when she tries to defend herself. But she prayed for God to help and this seems to be the reply. She hurries off to school with nervous anticipation. What will he do? Will he knock her books out of her hands again? Will he come up with some new nickname or put down? She wouldn't have to wait long to find out. As she closes her locker and heads for her first class she hears a loud familiar taunt. "Retarded squirrel!" She stops walking, closes her eyes and winces as if she is about to get a shot. Then she prays silently. "I hear your retarded mom came up here yesterday and she looks just like you! It just proves that ugly is hereditary." His friends laugh in a way that says they are glad he has someone besides them to bully. Without a word, she reaches into her book bag and pulls out a note she has written that morning. As her skinny frame shakes noticeably, she hands her tormentor the note. He hurls one parting shot as she turns and walks into class, "What's this, retard? A note from your mommy?" He opens the note to see only three words. "I forgive you." Just inside the classroom, there is an inexplicable sense of peace and freedom. And the little red-haired girl, for the first time in a very long time, smiles. Permalink Comments (15) Great Is Thy FaithfulnessPosted Saturday, August 02, 2008 (1 year 97 days ago.) Viewed 602 times. Great is Thy Faithfulness was the hymn we were singing. I was in the congregation, third row middle. As we sang, I began to pan the faces of the choir and think. Is God really faithful? Permalink Comments (10) |
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