A Psalm of Shane

Lord, I'm angry at ______________ (feel free to customize this Psalm and make it your own prayer, rant, whatever). You're probably going to say something like "Forgive __________ because they do not know what they are doing," but I want to argue that. Yet, I know you're right. You're always right! How annoying is that? If it's annoying at all then I'm an idiot because, logically, which I'm not being completely right now, I wouldn't have it any other way. Me being right and You being wrong would be a disaster. I want to set _________ straight. I want to yell at ____________. But that wouldn't do anybody any good. That would only serve the justice-oriented side of me, which is basically flesh. And I am commanded to walk according to Your Spirit, and not my flesh. Sigh (I'm allowed to write "sigh" in my Psalm because it's my Psalm). Now that I got that off my chest, may I focus on the good in my life, the blessings You've given, and teach me to not expend energy on things I have no control over. You are good. Your mercy endures forever. Selah (whatever that means, just seemed like a good way to end a Psalm).

Man vs. Chips

     When I worked in the grocery store I occasionally had to take a night shift, 11PM to 7AM. And when the customers tapered off, it was shelf stocking time. On one particular evening, the night manager rolled out a pallet stacked with cardboard boxes containing potato chips. The boxes reached towards the ceiling towering over me and I was immediately intimidated by the visual. "How am I ever going to get through all that?" I thought. The task at hand seemed impossible to finish. There were way too many boxes, that stack was unbelievably high, and the potato chips seemed unconquerable as they silently taunted me: "You'll never finish, you'll be here all night, look how tall and mighty we bags are in our impenetrable boxes. Just keep gawking because that's all you can do in our presence." The night manager must have noticed my expression at the sight of the chips because he pulled a box down, emptied the contents on to the shelf in about 2.5 seconds and said, "They break down pretty fast," and walked away leaving me to finish the job. I was done with the pallet in about 15 minutes.
     Certain tasks in life are like that pallet of potato chips. They seem impossible to complete. They're intimidating. They look way harder to conquer than they really are. And we stand there gawking at them, allowing them to make us feel inferior and useless. Yet, here's what I learned from the potato chips:

• It's always helpful to have someone who knows what they're doing get you started. All I needed was the night manager to show me how to do one box and I was on my way. That whole men don't stop to ask for directions thing because they're men... that's garbage. If you need some help, ask for it. 
• Take your task one box at a time. You only have to start with one box out of the stack.  The important thing is you start it, then chip away at it. 
• Your "Rome" does not need to be built in one day. I wasn't going anywhere that evening. I was on the night shift. There was plenty of time to finish the task at hand. Completing tasks takes time, some more than others, but you'll get the job done quicker if you just start rather than wasting time thinking how long it's going to take you to finish. 
• Potato chips aren't the enemy. Insecurities, self-doubt, past failures and fear of risk-taking are the enemy. These foes live inside of us, but only if we feed and nurture them by dwelling on them. Forget the past and focus on the task at hand. 

     I'm facing another pallet of potato chips at this juncture in my life. And maybe you are, too. Let's start just one box at a time. I'm sure we'll discover they break down pretty fast. 

     

Love On a Budget

     As it is for many, money is tight for the Couch's, but holidays will not go un-celebrated in this household. One of Marty's love languages is gift giving so there are presents to be distributed on days like these. I wouldn't be surprised if one of these Arbor Day's she gives me a shrub of some kind. Over the years, I've learned to speak her language, and when we're pinching pennies, I've learned to be creative. This was Marty's first Valentine's Day gift for 2011...

  
      ... a cheap box of chocolates.  When I was a pre-teen, I used to walk the Valentine's Day aisle at Payless Drugstore and admire the biggest heart-shaped box of chocolates they displayed. I thought to myself, "If I had a girlfriend (and the cash), I would buy her the fanciest heart-shaped box of chocolates this store had." Of course, in the early 80's, chocolate came in large, gaudy packages. So, to show my love to my bride this year, I bought her the largest, gaudiest heart-shaped box of chocolates I could find.

     Gift number 2...

  
     ... two weeks worth of laundry washed, folded and completely put away in dressers and closets. Not a stitch laying around, all done. Of course, laundry is my job every Monday, but when expressing your love on a budget, two weeks worth qualifies as a Valentine's Day gift.

     And finally...

     ...one dozen roses. I don't have a picture of said flowers because they're dead. I bought them last month, under the guise of an "early Valentine's Day present," when roses still cost $9.99. When love is being expressed on a budget, one would not think of making such a purchase in February.

     To be honest, I could have saved even more money. When I picked up that box of chocolate, I was tempted to wait for the day after the holiday when it would be marked down 50%, but I didn't want to be sleeping on the couch the night of February 14.

Have You Hot Sauced Your Kids Today?

    

     There's a news item going around about a mother of 6 in Alaska who was at her wit's end with her adopted 7 year old son and poured hot sauce in his mouth for lying to her about pulling three discipline cards in class. She made him hold it in his mouth as she continued to berate him for lying, and then proceeded to put him under a cold shower to punish him for his bad behavior at school. Before she carried out her bizarre forms of discipline, she interrogated him in the hall and asked him why he lied to her about pulling the three cards at school. Through his sobs, he said "Because I did not want to get in trouble." Then she asked him what is the punishment for lying. "I get hot sauce." And what is the punishment for pulling cards at school? "A cold shower." I watched in horror as she not only made him hold the hot sauce in his mouth, but even told him to swish it around. Then my heart broke as I heard him cry as the shocking cold water hit him in the bath tub while his mother continued to yell at him and make him repeat what his offenses were. And all filmed by her daughter!
     Did this mother ever stop to think that her unusual way of punishing her son was probably more of a cause for his behavior than a deterrent? What seven year old boy goes to school and thinks, "Now I don't want to pull a discipline card today because that means I'll get a cold shower at home. And if I do happen to mess up, I better not lie about it because then I'll get hot sauce on top of it." If that kind of terror was waiting for me at home, I'd do whatever I could to avoid it as well. Seven year old boys mess up sometimes, but one sample of this kind of discipline would make any kid start telling lies. That's all he knows to do to protect himself.
     I couldn't fall asleep after viewing that atrocity last night. Yet, in a way, I was glad I saw it, as uncomfortable as it was to witness, because it made me reflect on my own parenting. I'm not trying to paint this particular mother as a monster. I get frustrated dealing with my three kids at times and I know I haven't always handled discipline exceptionally. But the image of that boy is not going to leave me any time soon, and it has made me analyze those times I've lost my temper and raised my voice and I will think twice the next time I'm facing a frustrating scenario with my kids.
      As a result, my kids, especially my son, were getting extra hugs and kisses this morning.

I'm Sorry

     Marty once asked me about growing up in my family and if anyone ever apologized to each other. Of course, she was asking knowing I'm not a natural apologizer and was trying to figure out why. I thought about it and the answer was no. I did not hear the words "I'm sorry" coming from the lips of my parents or siblings. How sorry is that?
     I've since had to learn to apologize and not just say the words, but mean them and feel remorse and convey true repentance. I know I've said "I'm sorry" to my wife during our marriage, but after starting recovery it took on a whole new meaning.
     When I found the strength to confess to her my addiction issues, I wrote her a letter bringing everything to the surface. Several months later as I was working on making amends in my steps, I re-read that initial letter and noticed that I didn't ask for her forgiveness in it. So I wrote her another, this time including those very important words. And as we continued down the road of recovery, I found that saying I was sorry once wasn't my eternal "get out of jail free" card. I was in the process of learning how to apologize.
     Typically, apologies usually followed excuses or a great defense, or a head-spinning turning the tables moment, if an apology came at all. I have since learned that if I need to ask forgiveness, then that is what I simply must do, not try to make Marty feel bad for me or try to get her to take care of me, I need to own up, humble myself and do what's right.
     It is so hard for a person who's not a natural apologizer to say those two agonizing words, but learning how to do so has made me a better man. I'm not sorry about that.

If My House Was On Fire, I'd Save My Kids, My Wife, and Then...

     20 years ago this month I started a journal. I have no idea why, I just did. Maybe it had something to do with the date being January 1. No one modeled it for me, no one advised me to, I just had an empty spiral bound notebook and wrote "journal" on it, and it was so. The entries were very titillating: "Got up today. Went to Math. Went to chapel. It was good. Ran into Scott S. and we hung out for a while. Went to lunch. Did some homework. Ugh (as in caveman grunt)." THAT journal is certainly no piece of great literature! But over the years I kept writing, and I began to appreciate writing and notice how authors spun a tale. I began to write about the EVENTS of my day, not the mundane routines. Prayers and revelations from my Bible study found their way in there. Memories I wanted to keep fresh, romances I had (there's a topic that spared a few trees' lives), my love story with Marty, and a journal always accompanied me when I was fortunate enough to travel the globe.

     When our babies entered our world, I had a whole new reason to write. I had to get down my feelings about them, the funny and poignant things they've said, my mistakes in raising them, my cries to God to help me parent as He does...

     52 journals later (and still counting), they have now become my legacy. I cherish the thought that when I'm gone, my kids will have answers to so many questions that I'm not able to ask my own parents now that they're gone. I'm not afraid of them discovering just how imperfect I was, as long as they see that I still had a heart for God and tried very hard to please Him, admittedly failing here and there... and there, and there... I imagine that corner bookshelf that holds them in one of their houses, and when they get together for the holidays, Ella, let's say, will ask Julia for the next journal of mine to take home and read, maybe to her kids. Maybe the one where my sweet second daughter was born because the details of that day were recorded in great detail and Ella will always know exactly how I felt about her from the day she was born.

     So here's to 20 years of journaling. Stay tuned and you may just hear about my first book getting published!

Heres that infamous first "journal."

Some uber-cool ones I can't wait to fill! Superhero and peanuts journals rank high, especially if they're nostalgic. 

Some favorites. My youth kids thought I looked like Dwight from The Office (ouch!), so my wife bought me a Dwight journal (double ouch!).

More favorites, Peanuts, classic Loony Tunes (from the defunct WB store), and Animaniacs.

Dad Wounds

     It seems there's a lot of books out there written for men that talk about the wounds we received from our dads. He was absent, he was cold, he criticized, jab, jab, jab... if you're a man, you have Dad wounds, there's no way around it. Some authors made me feel that if I didn't have Dad wounds and Braveheart wasn't my favorite movie, then I really wasn't a man. Okay, I admit it, I have Dad wounds.
     I don't remember ever being close to my father. He was a truck driver, worked odd hours, slept in the day, got up at night to go clock in. We never really bonded. This was evident in a story he would tell practically every holiday around the dinner table. "One day I came home from being on the road and you were sitting in front of that TV watching Sesame Street. I walked in the door, you looked at me then turned right around and kept watching TV." The older I got, the more I despised that story. That's not how it should have been. As a three year old kid, I should have ran to my dad and jumped in his arms when he got home. He absolutely should have won over Sesame Street. But he didn't. As I approached fatherhood I vowed it would not be that way with my kids.
     As time passed things never really changed between us. I respected him, honored him as a good Christian son should, but didn't call him for advice or even just to chat. There were private moments when I got very angry with him, asking the four walls why he wasn't around when I was a kid, grieving the fact that we weren't close, and feeling like it was much too late to do anything about it now that I was an adult, a husband and father myself. Talking to him about it, or yelling at him for it would only make him feel guilty and he would bear that burden until the grave, so I never addressed it with him.
     Shortly after Dad died, I was reading one of those man books I mentioned. It got me thinking about my relationship with my dad and helped resolve a lot of frustrations I had about our lack of closeness. I realized I was very thankful for my dad. I know he wanted certain things for me like being able to fix my own car. He wanted to pass that mechanic's gene on to me, but once he saw I just didn't have that affinity, he never made me feel stupid about it. Dad never made me feel stupid about anything. He never berated me or belittled my interests. I think the harshest thing he called me was "ding ding," which is Oaky for "ding dong" which my family shortened to "ding." But that certainly never made me feel stupid. I took piano lessons and he never objected because it wasn't sports. In fact, he would always ask me to play "Joplin," meaning Scott Joplin's "The Entertainer." Looking back at my life with him I realized others have suffered much more severe "Dad wounds" than I did.
     I know Dad's greatest desire for me was to do better than he did in life. And I know he was very proud of the man I became. A year before he died I was very angry and bitter about how he parented me, but now I'm very thankful for the good, kind, hard working and gentle man he was.

  
     This is Dad serving in the U.S. Navy during the Korean War. I think he looks very cool.
  
  
  

Best of 2010

     Why read about celebrities that died in 2010? That's depressing. Read this instead. I present the Best of the Couch's in 2010:

• After 16 1/2 years, I resigned from my church as youth pastor. How is this on the best list? It required a genuine walk of faith because I didn't know what was coming next. This was Abraham-style faith walkin'! Had to learn total dependance on God. Scary and reassuring at the same time. Thankful for the process. Very thankful.
• Julia received the Gold President's Award in her class for the year. She adds this to her Silver from Kindergarten. Because of this and the fact that she gave all her money away to missionaries, she earned an iPod. Very well deserved. So proud of her accomplishments.
• I walked in the Breast Cancer Awareness Walk in San Francisco which happened to be on my mom's birthday (who lost her battle to breast cancer in 2007). 43 miles in 2 days through the hills of San Francisco. Nobody said anything about hills! And a bonus was being able to do it with a good friend from college who became a better friend on this walk. Thanks, Schmidty.

• Marty and I started our own ministry, "Missionaries to Ministers," because we are burdened for those who serve in the church that are also struggling. We have brochures and business cards and everything (even a fax machine). Call us for an appointment in office, via telephone or through Skype or iChat. 
• We created a website. Check us out at www.pornographyinthepew.com. 
• During all this faith walking, I got the best Father's Day present from my 7 year old that I have ever received, a piece of original artwork worth more than any Rembrandt or Van Gogh that simply says "Happy Father's Day. Walking By Faith." 
• Teaching the kids the 10 Commandments as we walked to school, for the Bible says to talk about these things as you walk along the road. Monday through Friday presented a great opportunity, so we memorized as we walked. Love hearing them recite all 10. 
• Finding our "Pathway." Our new home church is Pathway Church in Redwood City. They have been just what we needed as we transitioned. Our good friends from college have poured their lives into this ministry and have welcomed us and provided a place for us to serve and enjoy tremendous fellowship. As I said, good friends in college, greater friends now. Thanks, Scott and Sue Aughtmon and Brett and Jenny Moody and all your boys! The Couch's love you all.
• I went back to seminary through Liberty University Online. Passed my pastoral counseling course with an "A." I was so nervous about doing an online course, but God very obviously helped me through and I finished with a 98% in the class! I truly give all glory to Him because I submitted every assignment with trepidation, doubting I did it correctly. Whew! And that "A" affirms my fresh calling to help people. It's what I want to do.
• Took Max to Disneyland as it was the year he turned 4 (the age each of my kids have their inaugural visit to the Happiest Place on Earth). He definitely had a friend in Buzz and Woody. 

My best reads of 2010

• Visioneering, Andy Stanley (1999). This fueled me to help people struggling with addiction issues and gave me the courage to tell my story. What's your passion? Read this book and run with it.
• A Resilient Life, Gordon MacDonald (2004). Were you born with a quitter's gene? Truly motivational words from someone who was and learned to run in spite of it. Very encouraged by this book.
• The Will of God as a Way of LIfe, Jerry Sittser, (2000). How can you not listen to a man who lost his wife, his mother, and one of his own children in a car accident as he talks about God's will for our lives? Very, very practical teaching on God's will that will challenge your faith and help you put your trust where it belongs.
• Telling Yourself the Truth, William Backus and Marie Chapian, (1980). This book helped me realize that when my anxiety is taking over my thoughts, I've stopped believing the Truth of God's Word in that moment. Life changing book.
• Hurt People Hurt People, Sandra Wilson, (2001). Great insights into why we hurt and thus hurt others. Lots of healing potential in this one.
• Diary of a Wimpy Kid Do It Yourself Book, Jeff Kinny, (2008). Yeah, designed for kids, and kids at heart, I say. More of a draw your own comics, make some life lists, and fill in the journal in the back, but this book was one of my favorites in 2010 and inspired creativity in my kids which I will always promote. 

Best quotes of 2010

     "The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith, and the beginning of true faith is the end of anxiety." - George Mueller

     "Believe in the belief God has in you." - T.S.C

     "Be thankful for the process regardless of the outcome." - T.S.C

     "You can do things nobody else ever has because there has never been another combination of God and you." - T.S.C.

     "We would be wise to be attentive and responsive to God along the way, even in matters that appear to have little significance... Perhaps our attention to these little things is the will of God, and our pre-occupation with the future a foolish distraction." - Jerry Sittser

     "Visions make leaders passionate, thorns make them authentic." - taken from the Maxwell Leadership Bible

     "Nobody other than you has the power to make you miserable. That power is yours alone." - from the book, Telling Yourself the Truth, Backus and Chapian

     "One of the worst things you can die with is potential. Die with failures before you die with potential." - Henry Cloud

(and here's one to take us into 2011) "Never give in, never give in, never, never, never, never - in nothing great or small, large or petty - never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense." - Winston Churchill, 1941

     No matter what comes your way, make it a joyful New Year. God bless you.

    

And They Said It Wouldn't Last

     15 years ago I mailed a Christmas Card to a good friend from college and it pretty much changed my life. I had asked Miss Marty McKenzie to accompany me to the Singing Christmas Tree production at Capital Christian Center and as a thank you, I sent said card. Very shortly after, we started dating and because of the distance between us, I started sending cards weekly to stay connected to my new girlfriend since we only saw each other on the weekends. Marty had a co-worker, obviously jaded and scorned, for she had the nerve to say about my weekly card sending, "It won't last."
     Well, 15 years have passed, nearly 14 of those spent in wedded bliss, and my wife still receives a card from me weekly. It has become a part of my regular routine. And I thoroughly enjoy doing it. It still keeps us connected. Marty appreciates the effort and the sentiments written inside and thanks me every time she receives one.
     I've always liked to draw, so each envelope features a little artwork from me.

This one was a follow-up card after Marty threw me a surprise birthday party.

What to do with all those extra pictures? 

Embarking on a walk of faith.

One of my favorites. If anyone remembers the movie or TV show from the late 70's "Logan's Run," you'll get this one.

I'm not an artist if I don't draw superheroes.

Happy Halloween!

In our second year of marriage, Marty went on a trip to Africa and was gone for nearly 3 weeks. This envelope shows how I felt when she got back.

  
And of course, Schroeder the piano player from the best comic strip ever produced, "Peanuts." 

     I'm glad my kids will inherit these cards someday. They'll get to read all about their parents' relationship and romance and hopefully it will be an example to them, in some small way. And to Marty's former co-worker, wherever she is and whoever she was... it lasted.   

Three Weeks Early and One Day Late

     Eight December's ago, Marty and I were awaiting the arrival of our first child. The day after Christmas we were lying in bed, just waking up. Our baby girl would be here in 3 weeks! We were so looking forward to meeting her. I began to sing to Marty's tummy as I had many times before, "Be My Baby," and then followed it up with "I'm Coming Out," which I would sing when I wanted her on the outside. Much to our surprise, she obeyed that morning. On December 26, 2002, three weeks early, our baby girl Julia was born, and a love switch I didn't know I had inside me was flipped on!
     The first time I left her in the nursery at the hospital the day she was born, I just cried. I looked at her through the thick glass and felt the separation. She was only hours old, but leaving her already felt like she was going off to college or I was giving her away at her wedding. I didn't want to go. I had only met her that day, but it hurt to walk away from her.
     For her eighth birthday we suggested she have a slumber party. She could invite three guests (all we can handle for an overnighter at this point), and she invited her best friend from pre-school, her best friend from Kindergarten and a girl in her current class that she has grown close to. Julia is a great friend maker and keeper. Marty bought some make-up for them to get a light makeover for the evening, then we'll take them to dinner and the 8 year old girls will sit at their own table, order whatever they want, laugh and giggle over 2nd grade stuff, come back and watch a movie and sleep in the living room.
     I have never seen Julia so excited. She cannot stop talking about her party and planning. She has made lists of things they can do. She's asked if any of the girls get a little nervous about sleeping in the living room, can they transfer to her bedroom. She has graciously included her little sister in her birthday party plans, and she has expressed adequately that she cannot wait for her slumber party.
     I love seeing her so happy. I love her. She is an exceptional kid, as all my children are. I can't believe our baby girl is growing up so quickly. For some reason, this slumber party is making her seem so grown up. And soon, I will be waving to her as she drives away, car packed, college bound, and then waving to her her as she drives away with the man I've entrusted her to. God help me.
     So I'm remembering a December from 8 years ago when our first born child became the best Christmas present we ever received, three weeks early and one day late.