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Buzz Lightyear & Beyond

10/25/2012

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Frankly, I’m not really crazy about Halloween. But let’s face it, when we have children one of the highlights of their year is to dress-up and walk around receiving free candy. Think about that...kids love candy. Imagine if we got to disguise ourselves and go door to door asking for things:

“Hi, hope you like my mask, can I have a $20 bill? What? You’re
not handing out twenties, just fives? Ok, I’ll just take two. Thanks. Oh yeah,
smell my feet. See ya next year.”
          
Well, we know that’s not exactly how it works, nevertheless my son Andy
was a little more than 3 years old and picked-out his costume weeks ahead of
time. He is one of millions of kids who love the “Toy Story” films, and he
couldn’t wait to be Buzz Lightyear. That costume was hanging in his room for
weeks. (His poor little brother got to wear the hand me down lion suit. He liked it even less than his brother the year before).
          
The big day came, so about 5:00 I say,“Andy, its time to get your costume
on, ready to be Buzz Lightyear?” Wish I had known ahead of time the reaction I would get. I don’t know where it came from, but it was like poking a wasp’s nest with a stick. He freaked. “No, no I don’t want to wear it!” The cute little guy had apparently developed quite a disdain for Buzz Lightyear. So like any parent would do, I first tried to calmly talk him into it. Failure.
Then, I decided to demand he put it on. Failure.
Then I went back to approach number one. “Andy, sweetheart, please wear the Buzz costume.” Failure. His mood was not improving.
          
“Andy, you love Buzz, why don’t you want to wear this?”
My plea was met with tears. Poor guy. I didn’t know why he was so sad, or terrified, or angry...especially since the day before he was so excited. Today, he was really against the whole thing. Then, an idea. I don’t know if it was inspiration from God, my own parental savvy, or just some natural instinct a daddy has for his children, but I switched gears.
          
“Andy,” I said. “Let’s go upstairs and try it on, I think you’ll be pleased.”
 Well, he didn’t like this idea much either, but since he was less hysterical now, I figured he was warming up to the idea. I now had a plan. 
           
“Come on buddy.” I carried him up the stairs as tears rolled down his
cheeks. The Buzz Lightyear costume had never looked so weak and unimpressive thrown over a dad’s shoulder. Andy whimpered as we neared the top of the stairs. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of my dear wife Najwa struggling to put that silly lion suit on Brady. Andy and I raced on, and I thought, “If I can just get him in front of that big mirror this will all change.”
           
I took Andy in the bathroom and said, “Buddy, will you put on the
costume?” He paused, and shook his head “no.”
I pleaded, “Andy, please let daddy do this, ok?” And with that, he stopped fighting me. I placed his little feet in the Buzz Lightyear pants and next pushed his arms through the shirt, pulled the top over his head, and buttoned him up. Standing before me was a 34-inch tall superhero with snot running down his nose and bed head from a recent nap. He still was not happy, but I knew that was about to change. I lifted Andy, turned him around, and placed him in front of the biggest mirror in our home. It covered the length of the bathroom wall. I stood him on the counter, and as I held him tightly to keep him from falling into the sink, little Andy slowly, almost defiantly lifted his head to see himself in the mirror. My plan had worked. The smile on his face forced the corners of his mouth to touch his ears, and Andy took a long, good look at himself in the mirror. “Daddy, look at me. Wow!”
          
That’s what I wanted. You see, I learned that day while Andy was crying,
wanting nothing to do with my plan for him, or even my assistance, that what he needed was to
see himself the way I saw him. I knew how Andy could look, and would look. I saw in him what he had not yet seen for himself. I knew if I could only get him in front of that mirror and let him get a good look at himself the way I saw him, he would love it.
          
The book of Ephesians has a beautiful verse in the second chapter: “For
we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.” God sees us as His masterpiece. We often mope around, crying about being unhappy with who we are, and don’t trust God for what He wants us to be. What will it take for us to realize, God wants us to see ourselves the way He sees us? As hard as it is to believe, He sees us as His masterpiece, knowing every hair numbered on our head. 

I hope we’ll let God dress us up, turn us around, and stand us
in front of the mirror. Believe it, there will be a heavenly reflection. I think
we’d be sure to say, “Daddy, look at me. Wow!”


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The Frog In Our Pajamas

10/10/2012

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    Imagine how silly adults would look if we went to bed wearing the kind of pajamas our kids wear. Especially those zip-up one piece things that go from your shoulders all the way to your feet and have special slipper bottoms. You can however, wear this stuff when you’re three years old, which is
precisely what Andy was doing one night. He was ready for bed but was down the hall, so I yelled from his room, “Andy, please come to your room for bed
buddy.”
    It was taking him quite a while, but I could hear him approaching. It
sounded like he was limping, or dragging a foot. I heard him breathing heavy and grunting. So, I got out of the little seat in his room and walked toward him. I laughed, and at the same time was a bit baffled by what I
saw.
   Andy had all kinds of stuff shoved into his pajamas. I mean everywhere
there was room to jam something in the outfit, he had done so. He looked like an overstuffed stocking pulled from the fireplace. I was baffled. “Andy, what is in your pajamas?” No reply.
  This silly nightwear had that crazy zipper running from the slippered
bottoms covering his tiny feet, up his thigh, past his tummy, and up to the left
shoulder. I realized he had found every single toy animal in the house and
stuffed each one in his pajamas. A rubber elephant near his right foot, a
plastic dog on his left. A penguin on one shoulder, a raccoon under his arm. He must have had a dozen or so animals in his midsection; he looked pregnant. Of course his little bottom made for the best storage pouch. I’m guessing three lions, five tigers, a bison, and six chimpanzees were hugging his diaper. 
   “This is heavy,” he sighed, as he inched closer to me.
   “Andy, take the stuff out of your pajamas.”
   “No.”
   “Well then let me help,” I pleaded.
   “No.”
    “Andy, you said its really heavy, right?”
    “Yes daddy.”
    “Do you want it lighter so you can walk better?”
    “Yes.”
    “Ok Andy, let me take the stuff out of there.”
    “No don’t.”
     So Andy wants to be free of the burden, but won’t let me take it away. Sound familiar? Have you ever prayed to God like this…
 "Lord, this thing really has a hold on me.  It’s really weighing me down. This ______(fill in blank…drinking problem, drug use, affair, profanity, porn addiction, stealing at work, gambling, whatever) is weighing me down. I’m trudging through life. I’m not at my best. I need you to help me God, please.”
     But when God moves in, walks compassionately toward us like I came to
Andy in the hallway, and says, “Let me take it,” what do we say? Often, we say no. Or, not yet.
      In what I think is one of the most fascinating stories in the Bible,
Pharaoh displays this in the plague of the frogs. In one of the first plagues God sent, Egypt is inundated with hundreds of thousands of frogs...and Pharaoh wants each and every last one of these creatures removed from the land. He summons Moses and Aaron, pleading  with them to “Pray to the Lord to take the frogs away from me” (Exodus 8:8). Here is where it gets very interesting. Moses answers Pharaoh by telling him, “I leave to you the honor of setting the time.”
     This must have been a relief to Pharaoh. He gets to decide for himself when the frogs must go. Obviously, he’ll be relieved, grateful, and wise and ask for this to happen immediately. Right? The frogs are history.
    No. Not even close.
    His answer...“Tomorrow.”
    Not an hour from now, or ten minutes, or right away. Tomorrow! Take the
frogs away tomorrow. Is he kidding? This is so incredibly important. Circle
Exodus 8:10 in your Bible, because all too often we say, “Tomorrow Lord.”

   Pharaoh wanted the plague to end, but still asked for one more night with
the frogs. So do we. We want that addiction to end, pain to stop, affair to cease, to quit drinking, but, “Not just yet, Lord. Give me one more night with the frogs.” Seems we often want help handling the addiction, but aren’t willing to turn it over and release it.
   Andy wanted help, but not on my terms. How he expected to walk faster and not be burdened down while ten pounds of rubber and plastic toys were stuffed in his pajamas is beyond me. Why he didn’t want me to unzip the whole suit and let the animals fall to the floor is puzzling. Why Pharaoh wanted another night with the frogs is hard to understand. Was it pride? Stubbornness? Did he want help but under his own terms? Did he love the frogs too much to release them? For whatever the reason he kept his frogs, and Andy kept his animals, and neither the king nor the toddler seemed very happy with their decision. And we often ask for help but stubbornly hold on too. When the Lord meets you in the hallway and extends a merciful hand, take it, right then. 
   Don’t ask that he return tomorrow.


 
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    about the writer...

    Andrew is thankful he's had the opportunity to do some cool things so far... drummer and lead singer in a rock 'n' roll band, TV Sports Reporter, and earn a couple of Master's degrees along the way. He's glad he has a great wife to help him navigate parenthood, especially now that his boys are chasing around a little sister. He hopes this site helps you grow closer to God and your children.
     

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