Plant Your Flag

Imagine that you and I decide to go on a hike together. It doesn't really matter where. But let’s pretend it’s a nice day and the hike is moderately long. As we set off with our packs and bottled waters, things look good. Then, about a mile or so in, out of nowhere, I begin to share with you that I’m really worried that we might encounter a snake. Or, what will we do if it begins to rain? I mean, I didn't pack my jacket. And, uh, are there bears in this area? And, ya know, the ground is uneven, too, and what if one of us falls and breaks an ankle? How far away is help? And, oh man, I forgot to take my Claritin this morning, and I read that the pollen count today is going to be brutal! And…and…

I suspect that at some point you’re going to tell me to quit freaking out, to quit worrying, and to start thinking positive. You will no doubt try to point out the beautiful trees, the big sky, the sunshine above, or all the many flowers gathered around us. You may express your desire that I come around, because this is quality time that we’re spending together, and you were really hoping that we could talk. If I still don't calm down? You might think that something’s wrong with me and that it's time to turn back.

Now…what it the hike was life? Think about it. Don’t we all sometimes act the way I acted in this story? Jumping at shadows, obsessing over possible calamities, fearful, worried or focused on the negative? The “what if’s” become the “what then’s” and they go round and round in our heads on an endless loop. I wonder what it must be like for God to be hiking next to us on the journey of our lives and to see us acting this way, to see us get so lost, and then watch us as we miss SO very much that He created us to be and to see.

Thankfully, though, He has unlimited grace and patience. He never leaves our sides or gets fed up with us. He never throws up his arms and says, “That’s it. I’m outta here. Let’s give up and go back to the car!” Instead, He waits for the proper moment to remind us, when we’re ready in our hearts to hear it, that we we’re never created to be worriers and doubters.

We were created to be adventurers and to someday lay claim to the summit of our lives.

What Success Really Is...

"He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." - Matthew 18:2-3

I want to hand off my blog this week to my thirteen year old son, who had his very first “Big Poetry Assignment” this week, and came up with this, which he plopped down on my desk for review:

What Success Really Is

By Anthony Faggioli IV

What is success? You may wonder.

Well, you won’t have to make a blunder

I’ll tell you…

To make a friend laugh loudly;

To work hard at your job,

even if it seems like you carry the weight of the world;

To win the respect of peers and friends

and the affection of lovers;

To have a good time with family;

To admire nature, with its beautiful forests and sparkling rivers, like a great art critic

With appreciation and understanding;

That, my friend, is what success really is.

I'm not sure how that winning the “affection of lovers” thing is going to go over with his Mom, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. As for me? I’m not going to front: I got a little choked up before regaining my manly-man composure (okay, I just fronted). Anthony couldn't believe I really liked it that much, but that’s okay. He will someday, God Willing, when he has kids of his own. It seems like not that long ago that my boy was just scribbling. Now he's writing poetry.It's special. Our children (and grandchildren, and nieces and nephews) are a gift. That’s for sure. And they’re a gift that keeps on giving, one moment, one surprise, one challenge and one delight at a time.  

Maxime

“I waited patiently for the Lord, he turned to me and heard my cry.” Psalm 40

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.” Matthew 10:29

Join me, if you will, for a little story about a daily parking stamp, some scriptures and the 19th Wedding Anniversary that my wife and I share today.

First, about that daily parking stamp. It was red, with a white "City of Hermosa Beach" seal and it cost a $1.75. As manager of the parking lots in downtown Hermosa Beach in the early 90's, it was part of my job to monitor the sale of validation booklets and daily parking stamps to all the merchants for their customers and employees. I rarely ran the sales window, but on that June day in 1992 I was. That's when it happened.

She came across the parking lot in a navy blue dress, with white piping along the collar, and wearing blue heels. She was naturally tan, with dark eyes and long black hair that fell over her shoulders in thick layers. Her smile was bright, and when she spoke to me it was in a tiny, angelic voice. That was pretty much all it took. I was done for. In life, there are poems that you read and poems that you see, and in this girl I saw something that neither Shakespeare nor Blake, even at the top of their games, ever could. She told me she was a new teller at the nearby Bank of America, then asked me for a daily stamp and placed a single dollar bill with three quarters on the counter. I stuttered like a teenager as I complied. This routine would repeat itself each day for almost two full weeks, before I finally worked up the nerve to ask her out. 

Now, for those bits of scripture: the first guided me when I was looking for love, the second saved me when my father died, the third was there to comfort me when our son was born eleven weeks prematurely and the last one whispered to me softly during our daughter’s adoption. You may wonder what any of this has to do with my 19th Wedding Anniversary. In truth, it has a lot to do with it. For if a marriage is like a piece of art, it only stands to reason that there will be certain moments that frame it. And though all love stories need their sweet and simple moments, the hard and tough moments have their place in the process too. Like the times when one of you is without faith, or loses a parent, or worse.

You see, for whatever reason, Maxime and I had both of our children, and then almost lost them. In each instance, despite support from our friends and family, we would primarily get through each day with just each other. It's in moments of crisis, you see, that you really learn if you've married well, and who you’re married to. I think my wife would agree that on September 9th,1995 we both said our vows and made a promise to God, but that also something else happened: He made a promise to us. To be there, to watch over us, to carry us and deliver us, to lift us up and love us, and He has been so very faithful. The hard moments may have framed our marriage at times, but as Maxime and I have done our best all these years to sketch the picture of our lives together, it's been God who has brought all the color, all the depth and all the perspective.

I still smile at the memory of the first time I met her, so long ago. It’s funny to think that something as simple as a daily parking stamp could lead to a lifetime with someone, isn't it? Or that beneath the brilliant Hermosa Beach sunshine that day, there would arrive, at the window of my little parking booth, such an immense blessing. Happy Anniversary Babe!

Brown-Eyed Girl

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. – Romans 8:28

The brown-eyed girl, in her mid-twenties or so, stood before me in the line at Starbucks with a pensive look on her face, as she perused the pastries. At first I couldn't tell why I noticed her. Then it clicked. She wasn't really looking at the pastries, or the case they were in. She was staring at a place beyond them all. She was staring at a thought.

Turning slightly, she noticed me looking at her. I gave her a nod and said “Good Morning!” as quickly as I could. You see, writers love to observe people, but we never like getting caught in the act. To my surprise, she was not put off in the least. Instead, she turned to face me and we made small talk for a bit, while the line in front of us ground down. With no one behind us, we had a bit of privacy, which was good, because the brown-eyed girl was not doing so well.

“Ready for the day?” I asked. She shook her head a bit. “Why?” I asked. Without missing a beat, she looked up at me with moist eyes and said, “Because last night I had a miscarriage.”

Now, moments like these have been happening to me my entire life. I have no idea why. For some reason, complete strangers like to confide and confess extremely private things to me. I don’t know why this happens. It just does. And when it does, I don’t freak out anymore. I just go with it.

“I’m sorry,” I said. She nodded weakly, as an earthquake struck her lower lip. “Thank you,” she replied, then added, “Kinda hard to be ready for the day after that, right?” It was sweet and sad; sweet because she tried to make a joke, and sad because she succeeded. I chuckled and replied, “You’ll be okay.” Her eyebrows popped up. “Oh yeah? How? she said. I shrugged. Great purveyor of wisdom that I am, all I managed to come up with was: “You’ll start with a coffee and a pastry, and then you’ll take it one step at a time from there.” That did it. I finally got a little smile out of her. Probably because my advice was so lame.

As the barista called for her order, the spell was broken and the brown-eyed girl looked suddenly embarrassed, but also a tiny bit better.We said our goodbyes. As she left in her business suit and heels, hair pulled back professionally, nails painted, but trimmed neatly, I couldn't help but notice how put together she looked on the outside, while on the inside she was a mess. I felt ashamed that I had not at least tried to witness to her a bit, but I don’t think it mattered.

Our moment had come and passed, you see. That’s all it was. You may think I told you this story to show you how I helped someone, but no. Maybe I did. I hope so. But really, it was she who helped me. Me, and my selfish daily schedule, that has no time for strangers and all of their problems, me and my frequent lack of compassion for others. As I left the Starbucks I had a new perspective. And that, you see, is how God really works for the good in all things. He takes a girl in need of compassion, and puts her in line right next to a man who needs to learn how to give compassion. Then He does all the rest.