Every family has its quirks, idiosyncrasies that make our interaction with one another and with others more special and unforgettable. The trick is to celebrate (or to honor) the characteristics that make each one unique instead of resenting the differences. Writing this series has been a wonderful experience for me, not only because of the very positive feedback, but more because I’ve been able to look back at my growing up years with a new, clearer, better perspective, one that helped me appreciate many of the things I took for granted or even felt embarrassed by when I was young. But I’ve learned that whether you’re young looking forward or older in years looking back, we benefit from a heavenly perspective that we receive when look up.
Make It Big
I was running, no, rushing to the bathroom to go on one of my infamous bombing runs, when my dad urgently stopped me,
Pop: David! Where’re you going?
Me: I’m going to poop.
Pop: Alright.
I was turning to run since nature’s call was strong when he called again.
Pop: David!
Me: What?!!
Pop (looking me straight in the eye): Make it big.
And I did. (Much to the frustration of Josh who shared a bathroom with me.)
I still do.
My dad was like that, always thinking big, attempting big, and expecting big. Even my poop had to be big. But that stuck to me. Thinking big I mean, not the poop. That would have been gross.
My Big Imagination
When I was in grade school / lower school I found a most innovative solution to a perennial pain in the butt: homework. I couldn’t get why anyone thought it was a good idea to to wake up at 6am, be at school by 7am, stay until 3 or 4pm, sit in traffic for another hour-long ride home, only to sit down at your desk to do more school work. Between sleep and school alone that’s already about 20 hours. Only 4 hours for play! I can honestly say I don’t remember half the stuff my teachers said. So like I said, I found a solution to what I used to call a “stupid schedule” and it was incredibly easy. I simply decided to ignore my homework entirely and live an imagined homework-less life.
And it worked.
At least for a while.
I would come home, my parents would ask me if I had homework, and I would say, “Nope. None.” They would ask again, “No homework?” “Nope.” “No homework again?” “None.” It didn’t dawn on me that I was lying. I told them there was no homework because there was no homework. In my mind, I had resolved that I would decide whether I had homework or not, not my teachers, and I had chosen not not have any homework – EVER. My teacher would give me my homework, I would say, “No thanks.” and the problem of homework was solved.
Until the parent-teacher conference or the dreaded PTC when the teacher told my parents that I had not done any homework for the whole quarter. My parents confronted me and said…
Pop and Mom: David, you told us you didn’t have any homework.
Me: I didn’t.
Pop and Mom: David. Your teacher said you didn’t do any of your homework.
Me: Because I didn’t have any.
Pop and Mom: David. Your teacher said you had homework.
Me: But I decided I don’t have any. So I don’t.
Pop and Mom: David! You can’t decide that! You have to follow your teacher!
Me: Why???
Pop and Mom: Because she’s your teacher! You have to do your homework when she gives it to you! That’s disobeying, David. And that’s also lying.
Me: But she’s so boring and grumpy because she’s always pregnant!
Pop and Mom: David!!!
I got the rod that afternoon, which I got a few times daily anyway, and my ass was a shade of bright red despite my dark complexion. Now that I’m older I’ve realized that more than just lying to my parents, I was lying to myself, thinking that I could imagine my problems away, and decide to ignore the real world. Instead my parents got me tutors and began an incredibly motivating incentive scheme for our education. I didn’t know it yet but my parents were teaching me an integral lesson every person must learn: you have to LIVE your life not escape it. You have to embrace how you were created and you must enjoy your experiences, but you must also carry your responsibilities and face your issues, knowing that God rewards faithfulness.
Bigger Love
There is a very real feeling of vulnerability when one moves away from his parents. My parents had developed, despite the resource limitations, a home where love was abundant, responsibility was expected, and purpose promoted. It had a safe, welcoming feeling that had more to do with the light my parents radiated then a yellow bulb’s glow. It wasn’t perfect, not even close. There were fights (lots of them involving me), there were heated debates (which Joe always won), there were limbs broken, and hearts as well (ahem ahem), interesting pharmaceutical products, academic concerns, crashed cars, sheriffs forclosing, and even my mom finding a naked guy on my email (back when my mom was new to the term “spam”) among many other things. But no matter how big the problems were my reactionary parents somehow gathered themselves together and presented a bigger love, not some imaginary “everything is fine” attitude (like my homework), but the love of Christ that forgives, and joyfully sacrifices, a love that covers a multitude of sin.
That’s an environment I’d like to recreate for my own family someday.
Someday I will have little curly-haired Davids running around and, if they’re anything like their father, their energy and their curiosity will land them in many “interesting” places and circumstances. But there will be a bigger love for them, the same bigger-than-us love now available to you and me.
