My Independence Day

Happy Independence Day!

As I contemplate the 4th of July (our nation's Independence Day) this year, I think back to my post that I did last year.  It had the exact same title which either proves that I totally lack creativity or that good ideas never go out of style.  ;-)

But I'm so glad that I jumped into that pool 3 years ago.  I feel like somehow that that was an important moment in my life.  Independence Day can be more than just a time when we (rightfully and importantly) celebrate the freedoms that we enjoy as Americans.  It can be a time when we celebrate our own freedoms as well--freedom from bad habits that need to be changed, the freedom to improve ourselves, and the freedom to seek search for happiness and joy in our lives.  I think that my decision to jump into that pool helped put me on the path to all of those things.

Freedom doesn't come easily.  Remember the children of Israel?  Moses led them out of Egypt in a dramatic, triumphant, and miraculous way that saw the complete destruction of the mighty army of Pharoah.  But soon thereafter, the people began to murmur and complain because they were hungry and wished that they were back in bondage, in Egypt, where they had their "flesh pots" and plenty of bread.  (Exodus 16:3).  A merciful Heavenly Father sent them manna from heaven to feed them.

Manna from heaven

The children of Israel had security and were not hungry--but they were also not free.  Once they received their freedom, they didn't always value it.  Being free isn't the same thing as being secure--at least in the short term.  In the long run, freedom does lead to stability and prosperity.  We need to exercise faith that when we do what is right we will be blessed--even if we don't know exactly how (or when) those blessings will come.  The children of Israel were better off with their freedom--even if they didn't realize it at the time.  But the Lord knew it and He helped them by (ultimately) leading them to the Promised Land, where they had freedom, security, and prosperity (as long as they were righteous).

Protestors in Cairo's Tahrir Square

I'm also inspired by people around the world that are desperately seeking the basic freedoms that we often don't even think about in this country.  For example, this very moment, the people of Egypt are demonstrating to demand the right to religious freedom in their country--to worship how they choose.  They are also seeking the freedom to have economic opportunity.  And they are seeking that freedom at potential great risk to themselves (and in defiance to current U.S. policy which inexplicably is apparently threatening to withdraw U.S. aid if they demonstrators are successful.)  I saw one Egyptian woman who was interviewed and told the camera that they U.S. could keep its money--the Egyptian people wanted their freedom.  They know that with freedom will ultimately come stability and prosperity.

I'm grateful today for the freedoms that I enjoy both as an American and (more importantly) as a child of God.  Like the children of Israel, I may not know the exact route that the Lord intends for me to travel, but I hope that I am always grateful for my freedoms.  We are expected to use those freedoms to make wise, good choices.  I made a good choice 3 years ago when I decided to basically learn how to swim so that I could do a triathlon.  I hope that I will continue to make good choices.

So that's what I'm thinking about this morning on Independence Day (and I'm also thinking that some good food would be nice too!).  What are you thinking about today?

Gratuitous photo of my "Rugrats" in action....

Kona Inspired

Kona - Ironman World Championship

I have a dream someday of participating in the Ironman World Championships in Kona, Hawaii.  So I couldn't help but feel touched by this column today from Doug Robinson in the Des News.


Dean Bullock is from South Jordan, Utah.  He's a father of 9 kids and grandpa to 17.  He's also a triathlete.  Last summer, he was diagnosed with a serious brain tumor.  The prognosis isn't good.  He will apparently be lucky to make it another year.  His dream is to compete at Kona and he has probably only once chance left to do it.  The race is this October.

Slots for Kona are next to impossible to get, but he has shot to get a special slot if he gathers enough votes on a video that he submitted for the "Kona Inspired" program.

Please consider viewing his video here and voting for him.  (You can vote once per day).  Click on the magnifying glass and type in "Dean Bullock."  Then click on one of his videos and click on "<3 Vote for This" in the bottom left hand corner.  It's that easy and it will only take about 20 seconds!

Dean, I've never met you even though we competed together at Ironman St. George this year.  I doubt my one vote or this post is enough to put you over the top, but I hope that you make it--both to Kona and through this challenge.  Keep fighting the good fight!

Baseball as Life

R. Playing 3rd Base After His At-Bat

Baseball has never been my favorite sport. I generally prefer a faster pace to a game. But some people love baseball (it didn't become the national pastime by accident) and see it as a metaphor for life.

If you read my last post on Little League and some of my recent posts, you know I've been spending a fair amount if time lately thinking about kids, life, and fatherhood.

Tonight as I pulled up to the field to watch R.'s game, I think I maybe I understand why baseball can be like life. And why it has brought fathers and sons across America bond for generations.

As I got out of the car, my heart sank as I saw R. walking back to the dugout with his bat slung across his shoulder while his teammates hustled and bustled to get out into the field to play defense.

It was immediately clear what had happened. R. had struck out to end the inning. I braced myself for a repeat of last game.

But that's why baseball and life are so great. As in life, we are not bound to failure in baseball. Every day is a new day. Every game is a new game. Every at bat is a new at bat. We can change, get better, and improve. We can hope that the next time we will see positive change. Even if that change is incremental.

R. was smiling when I saw him in the dugout. He excitedly told me that he hadn't been as afraid of the ball. And then he hustled off to go play third base on defense.

Then I walked over to where the parents were sitting. Several of them were kind enough to come up to me--all on their own--and tell me what a great at bat R. had had. He had fouled the ball off a couple of times and had gone down swinging. It may not have been much--but it was progress!

Later one of the coaches spontaneously told me what a great job R. had done.

As I sat to watch the rest of the game, I noticed that tonight's game felt so much different than the last game. Gone were the dark, dank mists and fog. It was clear and palpably warmer. Everything felt...better.

So I will appreciate the sense of newfound optimism that I feel tonight. And I'm looking forward to R.'s next at bat. He's hitting next inning and I'm excited to see him continue to improve. In baseball and in life. :-)

Field of (Foggy) Dreams

Hitting in the fog--If you look closely you can see the blur of the pitch as it speeds toward the batter.

R. had another baseball game last night.  Even though I feel like Spring is right around the corner, last night's game was anything but Spring-like.  It was cold (54 degrees at the field in Dana Point) and damp.  You could literally see the fog and mist rolling in from the ocean less than a mile away.

Despite the fact that I was in a long-sleeved dress shirt, I was cold and I actually grabbed my spare jacket out of the trunk of the car.  I tried to send several texts, but my fingers were numb from the cold, damp coastal air.  My thoughts on Little League baseball are too complex and conflicted for this post.  But if my own kids weren't playing, there's no way that I'd ever spend more than 2 minutes at the ball field.

As miserable and physically uncomfortable as I was, R. was even worse.  R. is 11 years old, but has really only played about 2 years of baseball in the past 4.  He has a lot less experience than the other boys.  The coach told us that when they pick teams at practice, R. is always picked last.  When I got to the game, I checked the line-up card.  Sure enough, R. was in his usual position--batting last (signifying that he is the worst hitter on the team).  R. got up to bat 3 times tonight.  He struck out every single time.

Normally I love the fog, but this fog held a more somber feel to it.

On defense, R. only plays in the field about every other inning because he really hasn't mastered a position on defense.  I realized at one point that he was shivering because his uniform wasn't warm enough for the cold.  I took off my jacket and gave it to him.

As a parent, I could sense his frustration and disappointment mount as the game went on.  I know that tonight's game was anything but fun for him.

I don't care whether the team wins or loses, but I want R. to be able to experience some success and to have fun.  Is that too much to ask?  As a dad, I feel like a failure.  Little League was always fun for me.  I had good friends and teammates, made all-star teams, and liked playing.  I'll never forget hitting a home run over the fence for the first time when I was about 12 years old.  It was a play-off game and I was the lead-off hitter in the game.  We won 1-0.

While some of my teammates went on to play in college and the minor leagues, I stopped playing baseball when I reached high school because my passion was stronger for other sports.  I've never regretted the decision to hang up my cleats, but I'm glad that I played.

I want R. to be able to have those same experiences, but it is just not possible to "download" my baseball experiences into R.  Instead, I am trying to be supportive, positive, and encouraging.  Two years ago, R. told me that his dream was to be a professional baseball player.  I'm sure his "dream" tonight would be to quit.  But I'm not in the business of raising quitters.  And even if R. never plays another inning after this season, I want him to feel like he gave it his best shot.

If you build it, they will come...

I don't have any answers for R. or for the questions and concerns that I have running through my head.  When we got home, I suggested that R. and I watch a movie together.  I wanted to cheer him up and that seemed to work.  At bedtime, he asked for me to come in and read to him.  I did, even though I probably should have been braving the cold and fog to put in some mileage in preparation for Oceanside.  I guess I feel like being a dad is more important than getting in my own workout.

I'm grateful for R.'s coaches and his teammates who have been patient and supportive.  The other parents have also been incredibly nice, even though I really don't even know their names yet.  It is a little humbling to see strangers who are willing to help your child.  And I hope that I am reminded of this the next time I have the opportunity to pay it forward by coaching or cheering for a team.

R. may never make the Olympic baseball team, but I'm okay with that.  We all have challenges in life.  But the important thing may well be how we choose to respond to those challenges.  As a kid, my mom made us memorize this poem.  I can still recite it to this day:

Stick to your task till it sticks to you; 

Beginners are many, but enders are few. 

Honour, power, place, and praise 

Will come, in time, to the one who stays. 

Stick to your task till it stick to you;

Bend at it, sweat at it, smile at it too; 

For out of the bend and the sweat and the smile 

Will come life's victories, after awhile. 

-Anonymous 

Ralph Waldo Emerson (and President Heber J. Grant) said: "That which we persist in doing becomes easier to do, not that the nature of the thing has changed, but our power to do so is increased.”  Even if R. doesn't get a single hit the entire season, is it too "touchy-feely" to think that R.'s season will be successful if he learns the power of persistence?  As R.'s dad, my job is to try and teach him these types of lessons.

That doesn't necessarily make the current situation any easier for me though.  This experience is making me think that sometimes the toughest challenges in life may be the challenges that we witness our loved ones struggle to overcome.

So while I struggle to help R. improve his baseball skills and learn persistence, I have some areas of my own life in which I can experience growth--including having more patience and kindness.  And even if things seemed a little foggy last night, I can still hope that R. will achieve his dreams as the fog lifts and disperses--whether those dreams involve the baseball field or another worthy goal.