Insignificance...

...is one of the greatest fears that we humans deal with. Ask any 40 year old man who drives a sports car. Or any woman mad at being left out of the supper club. Or any teenager who thinks of themselves as utterly forgettable. We place our value in things, acceptance and adoration and not in what ultimately counts.

It's not that we are truly insignificant, but it's that we often feel small or, worse, overlooked completely. Isn't it wonderful that we have a Father in heaven who says that we are anything but forgettable. He knows the very number of hairs on your head. For those who may be follicularly challenged and less than impressed, he goes a step farther stating that the number of thoughts he has for you numbers the sands of the ocean. You are, after all, his ultimate masterpiece.

What? You don't feel like a masterpiece? True, like anyone, you are not perfect and live in a broken world. But insignificant? No, you are a creation worthy of the constant thoughts of a Creator. Amazing.

In fact, I'm thinking about calling each one of you, dear friends, and letting you know that you are on my mind. But, alas, I have misplaced your numbers. And most of your names.

Daisy Is Very Different...

...than our previous love hound, Flossie. For one thing, she ain't the brightest bulb in the box. But for what she lacks in intelligence, she makes up for in love, laughs and a heavy dose of cutiepieness.

For instance, yesterday I spent quite a bit of time cleaning her up, nice and tidy, spic and span. It's a bit tricky because she does pretty well until it's time to rinse. Then she decides she's had enough, thank you very much, so you'd better keep your grip her collar (tail works too) or she's gone, suds and all. She might be 50 pounds of SC ditch-dog, but she can run like a scalded cat when inspired.

Anyway, I've been very proud of my grooming efforts since yesterday afternoon. Today, however, I put a portable sprinkler in the backyard to drench a particularly dry part of the lawn. Apparently, the grass wasn't all that was thirsty because Daisy, as evidence, loves a bath- at least when I'm not there. And the best way to dry off after you've soaked yourself in the strange outdoor shower your master put out for you? Why roll in the grass and mud, of course.

I would kill her, but it is pretty hot out there. And I've never been able to resist an outdoor shower either.

Chow Fung...

...meekly walked onstage, her hands folded and eyes staring straight ahead. The announcer from the stage then began to read the laundry list of accolades earned that year, just a handful of her 7th grade accomplishments. Excellence in mathematics; Excellence in Language Arts; Excellence in Music, Duke TIP Grand Finalist; etc. etc. etc. The young Asian girl stood silent all the while, a bit embarrassed in front of the large audience, their wide-eyed faces looking on in astonishment at the length of time it took to read all of her awards earned.

My daughter, Meredith had gone sometime before young Ms. Fung, earning Excellence in Language Arts and Drama (this I know well). But I couldn't help but wonder what it must have been like to be the child collecting their awards, just AFTER Chow Fung. The poor child that did, a young lady earning a perfect attendance award, must have felt a bit... cheated. After all, this was her moment- a culmination of her investment meeting a bit of hard-earned recognition! Was is too much to ask for a little limelight? However, in the wake of Chow Fung her award fell on deaf ears, silenced by the tall shadow of an obvious genius. This poor girl, a victim only of the order of presentation had been, if you will, "Chow Funged". Her tiny candle extinguished by the backdraft of comparison.

I can't tell you how many times in life that has happened to me. I explained to my girls afterward that whatever the situation, as long as you have done your best- your very best- then you can be proud of your accomplishments. Comparisons in life are inevitable, however you should always celebrate your own accomplishments no matter how they look next to someone elses. The reality is, even Ms. Fung may not have accomplished all that she wanted in 7th grade. If that is the case, then too bad. Perhaps even the presentation of all those awards felt a bit empty to her. It's really a matter of what your goals are and what you personally achieve. The real secret, I suppose, is to make sure your goals are lofty enough to make you stretch for them. If you do, then that is enough.

Later that night, in celebration I took the family out for Mexican food, still in awe of my little red-head, Meredith. She delights me and makes me proud.

Have you ever felt cheated by a comparison? Who was your Chow Fung?

One Of The Things I've Noticed...

...about my 11 year old daughter, is that she is always singing. Her favorite songs, however, are not even on the current top 40. Here's a list of her top songs:

• Jenny (867-5309)
• We Are the Champions
• Play That Funky Music White Boy
• Lonely Boy
• Sailing Away
• Jessie's Girl

You may have noticed from the list that one generation has heavily influenced the other. But wait, it works the other way around too. For I currently have my own list of favorites, some of which I am not proud to admit:

• Shake It- by Metro Station
• 4 Minutes- Madonna (OK, technically she's from my era, but the song is not)
• Poker Face- Lady Gaga
• Hey Soul Sister- Train
• I Gotta Feeling- Black Eyed Peas (Fergie is hot, I'm sorry)
• Fireflies- Owl City
• When I Grow Up- Pussycat Dolls

What is one of your favorite songs from "back in the day" and one from today?

Saluda, NC...

...is a beautiful little mountain town, complete with antique shops and dazzling waterfalls. I am grateful for an opportunity to visit the family cabin of William and Martha Fanning, our hosts for 4 days in western NC. The mountain air and flowing streams really did our family wonders in terms of relaxation. However, I began to notice some strange changes to my girls. Hmmmm, probably just hormones.

What a Beautiful Evening...

...it was tonight as I watched the sun go down in a 70 degree paradise. This is my favorite time of year in SC. Just having thrown the Frisbee with the dog, I settled into the hammock and viewed the blackening silhouette of the trees against the fading blue of the sky, specks of starlight beginning to appear. As the frogs squeaked and croaked in the distance, the fireflies began to come out of the tops of the trees slowly descending closer to the ground, yellow caution signs flashing. A squirrel played noisily in the fallen leaves of the woods to my right and a owl hooted from somewhere in the distance, still deep in the shelter of the trees. To my left, Jenna was practicing piano in our living room, a disjointed version of Dukas' The Sorcerer's Apprentice and Leslie was in the kitchen preparing the family meal for the evening. Bats occasionally fluttered over my line of sight and the hammock creaked as it rocked gently back and forth.

Then, slowly descending on a silk string, a spider landed in my lap and I popped out of the hammock like a spider monkey on crack. As nice as it was, it was over for me. That squirrel was starting to get on my last nerve anyway. Still, I do love this time of year. Well, my allergy medicine awaits. Good night dear friends.

Don't Give Up...

...is a tired, overused phrase. As parents, we tell our kids, "Don't give up". As an employer, we tell our employees, "Stay the course, don't give up". As a pastor, you tell your congregation, "You can do it, don't give up".
The reality is, there are plenty of instances when we should, well, just give up. Still trying to hide that bald spot with a comb over? Give it up, brother. Still trying to count yourself as a viable political figure, despite your indiscretions and ultimate disgrace? That ship has sailed. Still looking for beauty by spending enough money on a plastic surgeon to feed a third world country? Just let it go.
Don't give up? I say, phooey! Give it up and try something different. Your embarrassed family and friends will thank you.
Trying to write a blog tonight that makes sense? I give up...

Being Angry With God...

...seems to me to be a Christian's greatest secret. Why? Because you should always praise him through any adversity in your life, right? And just who are we to question Him, anyway? Well, perhaps that is true, but equally evident are the prayers of several men of God who were pretty angry and had a bone to pick with their heavenly Father.
Read:

• Psalm 13:1-3
• Psalm 22:1-2
• Jeremiah 12:1
• Habakkuk 1:2-3

A friend in our bible study tonight summed it up best by saying, "No one can handle your anger better than God". What it means to me is this: No, it's not right to be angry with God, but it is right and just to express every emotion in your heart to the Father. Even that type communion is welcomed by your Creator who longs to hear you lay out all parts of your heart. There's a benefit to being "real" in your prayer life, I think, in that even expressing the tough emotions can ultimately bring you closer to Him. And by getting closer to God perhaps we can shed some of the anger and move in a direction toward praise.

I'm not being Pollyannish in my thoughts on the subject. Anger toward God is real and probably more common among Christians than people will admit. However, expression of that anger to God is a powerful and surprisingly welcomed thing if from the heart. If being real with each other is important, how much more so that we keep it real with Him?

Surprises...

...are not always good. Tuesday morning, I read about a 38 year old man who was jogging down the beach in Hilton Head and was hit and killed by a small plane making an emergency landing. Apparently, the plane had lost a propeller and glided onto the beach. A wing caught the jogging man from behind (he was listening to his iPod as he ran), killing him instantly. Now that is surprising and tragic.
Today, I learned that the man killed by the plane was a GSK employee whom I have know for 13 years. Bob Jones was a terrific guy who leaves behind a wife and two small kids. Not to mention countless friends with great memories. He worked in our Oncology division for many years, was a great contributor to our business and a fun, joyful coworker.
No. Surprises are not always good.

Finding A Place To Serve...

...in this world is sometimes not as easy as it sounds. For one thing, even though there are millions of ways to get involved in helping others, not all of those ways are right for everyone. Leslie and I found it particularly important to find something that our entire family could participate in. And in the searching, we found such a place.
The general definition of respite care is the provision of short-term, temporary relief to those who are caring for family members who might otherwise require permanent placement in a facility outside the home. Our church, Saxe Gotha Presbyterian, offers such a program which caters to the needs of families with young children with special needs. Twice a month, we have the pleasure (and I do mean that in the most sincere way) of spending time with wonderful children, most of whom have been diagnosed with autism or other developmental challenges. And through this time, we as a family have grown to love these kids and in some way through the process love and appreciate each other a bit more.
The one thing that is always clear from the parents of these children is gratefulness. Gratefulness for the program, for our time and for a break in the week. As thankful as they are, I'm even more thankful to spend time with these unique and loving children. The Green's are the grateful ones. Thanks for allowing us the opportunity.