Tag: dailyprompt

Reading Time: 4 minutes

How important is spirituality in your life?

I get the non-descriptive word, “spirituality.” I’m hoping that it reveals the truth that we are spiritual beings. I had little experience with religion or even spirituality. I had a whole bunch of experience with chaos, broken family issues, multiple divorced parents, parental addictions and suicide.

I don’t know how many of you remember a reality TV show called, Jerry Springer Show, but that was kind of the wild emotional ride of my childhood. I’ve had two moms and three dads. My bio mom & dad met possibly coming out of a rehab program. I never saw my birth mother. My birth dad and grandfather tried raising me until my grandmother died and they just couldn’t keep me any longer. I was adopted at four years old. Left my home and toys behind to go live with strangers. My adopted mom had just been remarried to a Navy man. They believed a son would help my adopted father get his life together and stop drinking. It didn’t work. Life’s pressures made everything worse. Lots of domestic violence, calls to local police, bar fights, dad passed out on the lawn, the porch, even the little hallway in our home. Home was always a hairpin trigger away from violence and weekends in jail. My mom couldn’t take it and we certainly couldn’t take it. She divorced him and it was calm until my dad hit rock bottom and took his own life. He felt it was his only way out. I was twelve at the time.

At fifteen my mom wanted better for me and my little sister, my adopted parents only birth child. She started going to church. Honestly, I liked church. It made my mom happy and there were cute teenage girls there – so it was a win win. It was going fairly well until she decided I needed to go to church camp over president’s weekend. I did not want to go to church camp, I didn’t feel like being brainwashed into a saint of some kind. Mom was committed to making me go saying, “you need better friends.” That point was very true. My friends were starting to get into drinking, drugs and just behaving like neighborhood hoodlums. I went because it made her happy. I wanted to make my mom happy, she had been through so much. And, despite the multiple marriages, she was a good mom.

My mom dropped me off in the church parking lot with about 30 other teenagers, most of which already knew each other, I didn’t know anyone. One guy asked me to sit with him on bus ride up to the mountains. I really appreciated that. Friday night, up in Big Bear, California, the youth sponsors held an evening youth service. I didn’t recognize any of the music, but it was not churchy so I liked it. During the singing time a bunch of the students began raising their hands and sang out loudly. I was a little confused but impressed because there were no adults making them do this. It made me think a little bit about my own life.

Next day was all fun. Lots of snow play and getting to know all the guys. And yes, I noticed the cute girls as well. They were all definitely out of my league. I was was the adopted kid with a double divorced single mom. I was actually having fun and it was nice to leave all the problems I was having back at home.

Saturday night came with another youth service. I did fine the night before, so I thought, I can make it through another one. But then I started thinking about my own life, my past and how I just knew that life ahead would be very difficult. I only had one promising plan to live a successful life – do everything opposite of all my parents. But what did that look like? How could I pull it off? I felt I had to pull away from the singing and just find a quiet place to think. I found a table towards the back of the room and got underneath it. I continued reflecting on my life. I was a little jealous of what the other students seem to have. They seemed like they knew the God they were singing about – singing to Him, like He was real. Then the strangest, most amazing thing happened to me next.

Out of nowhere I heard a voice speaking directly to me. I couldn’t say I heard it with my ears, yet voice was calm and clear. There was some familiarity to this voice, like I heard or felt something similar as a child. The voice spoke to me and said, “give me your life and I will be your dad.” My thoughts froze. Did I hear that right? The voice repeated, “give me your love and I will be your dad.” Same calm clear message. This time I protested. I said out loud, speaking to the voice, “I can’t, I’m not worth anything. I am a nobody and I don’t have anything to give you.” Which was true. I had nothing to offer this voice. Understand this, at this point I figured I was hearing from and speaking to God Himself. No, it wasn’t some kind of weird revelation telling me to do something. In fact it was very peaceful, comforting and very emotional. Just the thought of God being my dad. I had longed for a dad who behaved like a dad. A dad who loved me, helped me, was proud of me. It was a long time ache and the whole idea of getting a dad overwhelmed me. I started to cry a massive amount of tears as well as a running, snotty nose. It was a deep cry. While I was crying my life filled with all the dumb, bad things I had done had flashed before my eyes. I was an awful person, even at fifteen! The voice, once more spoke, “give me your life and I will be your dad.”

I had almost zero religious background with no real knowledge of the Bible or how God did things. I was not spiritual in anyway whatsoever. I had an offer given to me under the table and I simply accepted the deal. I said yes! I told God I didn’t have anything but my life and I freely gave it to him.

The story is so much longer, but back to the prompt. God is everything to me. He saw me, rescued me, changed my life and I am forever grateful for what He has done. Call it whatever you’d like. But I am telling you; from my personal experience that happened over 45 years ago. God is real. He knows me and loves me and I owe Him everything.

Reading Time: 3 minutes

What was the best compliment you’ve received?

This was the moment.

I was riding my hand-me-down, banana seat, sting-ray bicycle down the sidewalk one day when the chain fell off the sprocket. I got off the bike and just stared at it for a few moments when I heard a voice, “hey do you need some help?” It was Stan, a neighbor a couple of houses down. Stan and Louise were original owners in the house on Harding Street. Stan had retired and now spent his time meticulously keeping the house in perfect condition. The grass on the front lawn was a deep rich green with every blade exactly in its place. It was manicured weekly. The house was painted a bright white with forest green trim – he must have touched it up every year.

Stan walked my bicycle up the driveway, a driveway with the grass growing between the parallel cement strips and into his garage. It was one of those garages that a man would love to claim as his own. The shiny cement floor was flawless, no oil, scuffs or dirt! Everything was in its place. The garage was lined with beautiful cabinets. And Stan had one of those peg boards with shiny tools hanging in order and an outline of each tool carefully drawn around each and every tool. Every tool was hanging perfect and ready for use.

He picked up the bike and skillfully flipped it on its back. He pulled the ½” open ended wrench out of its position on the pegboard and began to loosen the nut that held the back tire in place. He carefully untangled the chain and paused. He was about to transmit the wisdom of a bicycle mechanic into my brain. He smiled and said, “Do you know about the ‘master’ link?” He said it in such a way that I felt like looking both ways over my shoulder before giving him the nod. He continued in a hushed tone, “This is the ‘master’ link, the one link that allows you to take the chain off to work on it.” “Wow!” I said. I was mesmerized by the voice of this mastermind. “He’s got to be the smartest man in the whole world”, I thought to myself. With the speed and skill of a seasoned craftsman he re-assembled the chain around the sprocket and then just before he began to tighten the rear axle nut – he paused a second time. “You want to try it?” He extended the tool towards me, gently nudging me to discover the joy of fixing something. I took the wrench in my hand, it felt good – even natural, like I had held it all my life. I began to turn the nut on the rear axle when Stan cleared his throat indicating that he was going to give me another piece of advice, “clockwise to tighten counter-clockwise to loosen.” Ah, another secret of the trade. And then he added, “Put some muscle into it to synch it down tightly.”

But it was Stan’s next remark that changed my life. It was the moment that transformed Stan, the nice man a couple of houses down, into Stan, my hero. Stan spoke four more words; four words that empowered me and inspired me to greatness; four words that would mark the rest of my life. I cannot overstate the power of these four words spoken at that moment of my life. Stan said, “You do that WELL.” My instincts forced me to look around to see who else had entered the garage. “Did he just say that to me?” I had to ask myself because I had never been told that I had ever done anything well. As an eight year old kid, I didn’t know enough to think that he was just being kind. I mean the fact is I just turned a lug nut on a bicycle axle for goodness sake – it’s not like I just put a man on the moon. But I didn’t care. I grabbed the compliment like a man in the desert grasping for a drink of water. I replayed those words over and over in my mind.

From that moment on I knew “I had the power to fix stuff!” If I could fix a bike, maybe there were other things I could fix as well. It was only a moment, but it was a moment that changed my life.