Life isn't about getting to the destination

--it's about the journey. So don't think that you have to rush to get to the destination. The destination isn't important; the journey is the important part, what you take time for, what you learn and experience along the way. The journey is also where you find Me and where you learn about Me. That's what life is about, and if you don't take the time to get to know Me, then you will miss the meaning of the whole trip.


Camera shy

My Dahling S.O is currently obsessed with filming me. He films does it wherever and whenever -everyday things, special things, boring things, exciting things, yet only for a few minutes at a time, and truth be told, it’s starting to un-nerve me a bit. I’ve asked him to stop or at least explain why, but he’s tight lipped and determined about it all. I’m terrified of video cameras, well, any camera actually. It’s as if you’re frozen in time when you are caught on camera. Some have suggested I try out modeling, but at any rate I’d be horrible at it. Camera lenses make me freeze, tense up and stumble around nervously, (check out the glazed look in any and all photos of yours truly, complete with cheesy fake grin to hide my nervousness). Perhaps he’s trying to cure me. We shall see.


The Ultimate Extreme Sport

I’d like to tell you about a fabulous guy I know, so sit back and read on.

Today I watched as he put training wheels on a bike so Miss 3 could ride it. After sitting still for a long time she decided it wasn’t worth the effort (later we discovered she had a fever). Little miss 18 mths saw her chance for a go and was delighted when daddy interpreted her grunts and squeals, lifted her up and pushed her up and down the street for a few minutes.

This what memories are made of and I wish I had brought the camera, yet I don’t think I’ll easily forget the sight of him bent over almost double pushing a size 16 bike bearing the littlest tyke (who, with feet dangling high above the peddles, was wearing an oversized raincoat) while carrying an umbrella over her. He walked at just the right speed, continually guiding her little hands to the handlebars lest she let go of both at once and come in contact with the wet asphalt.

I had it easy, keeping an eye on Miss 6 & Miss 3 as they walked with their umbrellas. It was drizzling so we headed off to a second hand store just down the road, a short enough walk to get home easily if the drizzle became rain & just long enough to feel like we had been out & about. Halfway there the Heaven’s opened and I was brought back to the monsoons of my early childhood.

We sped on, splashing through puddles, clutching umbrellas tightly, and laughing all the while.

My hero was devoted to his little charge. The rain beat down; soaking him to the bone, but not a drop was to be found on the little tyke.

Unexpectedly, the store was empty of people, the doors were closed, yet the insides were strewn about outside. With many apologies and much bowing one of the workers brought out popsicles for the princesses and explained that they were closed for the day to rearrange the store. The princesses were delighted and thought it great fun to wait it out under the overhanging roof in hopes of the downpour easing up. Super Daddy decided to brave the floods, dash home and rescue us with a van. Off he went, a too-small-umbrella held high, looking like a streak of lightning in his grey shirt and white sneakers.

A short time later he drove up, dashed out (umbrella-less) and proceeded to whisk the princesses off to the awaiting carriage… err van.

At home he helped dry them off, dress, & feed them, tucked little Miss 3 into bed for a nap, and insisted that I join the sleeping beauties for a few winks.

Later this evening I came across this article which I thought summed it up quite nicely. He really is a hero, our hero, participating in the ultimate of extreme sports.

Fatherhood: The ultimate extreme sport

By Glenn Stanton, Senior Research Analyst for Marriage Studies at Focus on the Family

Fatherhood and family life are popularly perceived as mundane, but experience says otherwise.

Spend any time watching television and you will see a commercial promoting some soft drink, SUV, or dandruff shampoo product via images of extreme sporting activities. Gusto-filled 20-somethings are seen jumping off cliffs that are scary just to look at, with nothing more than shorts, T-shirt and a parachute. Others ride mountain bikes at literal breakneck speeds over rocky terrain or snowboard down vertical mountain faces of virgin snow. The message is clear: these young men are fully engaged and living life to the fullest.

However, these young daredevils only fool themselves, for they have not even approached the envelope of extreme. This vaunted territory is exclusively the domain of the family man. He alone lives life on the edge of what G. K. Chesterton called "the wildness of domesticity." The home, he says, "is the one wild place in the world of rules and set tasks."

French poet Charles Peguy describes the life of the family man the same way: "Family life is the most 'engaged' life in the world. There is only one adventurer in the world, as can be seen very clearly in the modern world: the father of a family. Even the most desperate adventurers are nothing compared with him. Everything in the modern world … is organized against that fool, that imprudent, daring fool … against the man who is daring enough to found a family."

Indeed. But what makes family life so adventurous? Well, the same thing that makes extreme sports so fun to do or watch. The possibility of failure is sky high-the reality that the whole pursuit could turn into tragedy.

Raising a family will give you a far greater rush than anything you see on these commercials. It is frightening work to develop and protect the little human beings entrusted to your care and nurturing. It is a challenge to grow a marriage, because you must hold yourself out, vulnerable and open before another person, day in and day out. The risk is great because you could really get hurt, or you could hurt others. But the payoff is great, like nothing else in life!

Family life is riddled with paradox. It is intoxicating, yet sobering. Confining, yet freeing. Demanding, yet rewarding. Fulfilling, yet depleting. Dangerous, yet safe. Unsettling, yet comforting.

I am a man fully engaged in the ultimate extreme sport, yet no other life could coax me from it. It is substantial and it is the pulse of being fully alive. It is the kind of adventure we were all created for.

(Glenn Stanton is a home-schooling father with five little ones age 7 and under.)

PS -Congratulations to this lovely couple on the newest addition to their family.


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