I took Chloe to the doctor last week. When we walked in the door, the nurse (I’ll call her “Susie”) met us with a smile. “Hi, Mr. Myers. Hello, Chloe. How are you today?” Susie was friendly, efficient and good with the children. I always liked her.

“We’re fine,” I said. “We’re here for Chloe’s checkup.”

“Okay,” she said. She looked down at the chart. “Uh-oh, it looks like Chloe’s going to get shots today.”

“Shots?”

“Yes, sir. But don’t worry,” she said with a light laugh, “they won’t hurt a bit.”

Honestly, who did Susie think she was lying to? She was going to jab an enormous needle into my little baby, and she’s telling me it isn’t going to hurt a bit?

I never did like that awful woman.

I clutched Chloe to me as I watched Susie prepare the vaccination. Then she walked toward us, a maniacal gleam in her eye. She grabbed Chloe’s leg and jabbed the needle home.

Chloe screamed.

Daddy cried.

As much as I hate Chloe getting shots, they are a necessary evil. And it really is a fascinating process. An inactive strain of a virus is injected into her body. Her body creates antibodies which will recognize and attack any active strain of the virus that she may later become exposed to. It protects her from having to deal with a more lethal form of the virus later on.

Still, I didn’t want her to have to get a shot, because I know it’s painful. I didn’t want Chloe to have to suffer.

Our heavenly father did something similar for us. Knowing that the effects of sin in our lives would be devastating, he provided a very different kind of vaccine: his own son.

Jesus didn’t come to give us an inactive form of sin so we could build up defenses against it. Instead, Jesus took the active form of sin, with all its devastating consequences, upon himself (2 Corinthians 5:21). His death on the cross “vaccinated” us from the eternal consequences of our sins.

Did God want Jesus to suffer? Absolutely not. But God was willing to let Jesus pay the price for our sins so that we wouldn’t have to suffer later as a result of them.

As much as I hate to admit it, maybe Susie was doing us a favor, after all.

We started our little adventure through the neighborhood with Chloe sitting in the wagon and me pulling it.  Things quickly went downhill from there.

For about half a block, she was content to sit still and let me do all the work.  Then she wanted out so she could walk.  After about ten minutes of walking, she wanted to pull the wagon herself.  I tried to talk her out of it but she was so insistent, I finally let her.

It was quite a sight to see.  She did very well at the beginning, but she lacked the ability to control its direction.  It kept heading toward the middle of the street, requiring me to make course corrections every few minutes.

When we went down a hill, the wagon picked up speed and the tires hit her heels, tripping her.  Several times I put my hand on the wagon to slow its descent and keep it from running her over, but as soon as she saw my hand on the wagon she’d scream, “I do it!  I do it!”

When we went up a hill, she tugged and tugged, switching the handle from one hand to the other.  I asked her if she wanted help, but she refused.  Her breath came in short puffs, punctuated by the occasional grunt as she made a Herculean effort to pull the wagon to the top.

I was reminded of “The Little Engine That Could” but instead of “I think I can, I think I can,” Chloe’s mantra was, “I do it!  I do it!”

Finally she stopped.  The wagon’s metal handle fell to the street with a “clang.”  She looked up at me with reddened cheeks and a sweaty brow.  The three little words I’d been waiting for finally came: “You do it.”

With a smile on my face I looked down at this 2-year-old child who’d given such a valiant effort.  There was no defeat in her request, just the simple knowledge that her daddy would finish what she’d started. I picked her up in my arms, grabbed the handle of the wagon, and carried her home.

How many times do we struggle along through life, pulling a weight our heavenly father never intended for us to carry?  He’s waiting for us to admit that we can’t do it by ourselves, and relinquish control of it to him.

There’s no defeat in coming to that conclusion, for our heavenly father will then take possession of our burdens and carry them for us, giving us rest for our weary souls (Matthew 11:28-30).

I went with my son Noah to Krispy Kreme donuts to grab some glazed donuts.

We got to the counter and he asked me if he could have a chocolate milk. 

I thought to myself “Buddy, you are going to have a sugar overload…but okay.”

I said “sure”.

Then he asked me if he could have two donuts.

My alarm went off “warning, warning…you are about to hit sugar coma…do not, I repeat, do not let him have another donut.”

I said “sure”.

The alarm came back on “hello?  Is there a responsible parent somewhere?  Can someone else please make an informed decision for this poor boy?”

“Really, Dad?” he said.

“Sure, you may not be able to finish it, but we can always take it home.”

Again with the alarm, “Okay, you passed this test, but be on the look-out if he actually tries to eat both donuts and drink the whole carton of chocolate milk.  You must stop him.”

We got his donuts and chocolate milk, sat down and he began to scarf.

Again the alarm “Please be forewarned.  Your son is eating at a high rate of speed.  At this rate, he will finish the first donut and move quickly to his second…do not let him start on the second…I repeat, do not allow two donuts to pass through his mouth…we could see violent shaking and vomiting if that should occur.  Please be a parent and stop him….someone stop him.”

I watched as he bit into the second one and I said “Buddy, you may want to wait on that one.”

“I’m okay, Dad.  I’m not full” he said.

“Not full is not a proper response…warning, warning…no one gets full from donuts.  They are made of air….oily, greasy god-forsaken air…you never get full.  You only get sick…stop him before we see projectile chocolate, donut vomit.”

“Okay, bud.  If that’s what you think.” I said.

“Time out on the field.  Could someone pull this parent out of the rotation and get someone with half a brain in here.  We can’t have sick children.   This is not acceptable.  Please step away from the child until a more mature and responsible parent can be found” went the alarm.

Halfway through the second donut and the milk, Noah said “Dad, I don’t feel good.”

“Hello, hello, McFly…I called this one.  Any comatose ape could have called this one…but no…you didn’t stop him did you…now he has a “tummy ache”…smooth move, Exlax” went the alarm again.

I said “Buddy, I thought you had too much, but you needed to figure that out.  Why don’t we wrap up what you have left and head to the truck.. You can lay down and maybe that will help a little.”

“Okay” he said in a nauseated voice.

The next day I told him that sometimes too much of a good thing can be a bad thing.  I think he got the point.

But the same goes for video games, tv, etc…we have to be careful that our kids don’t try to use things and people to get their fulfillment.

We, too, have to be careful.

Fun, yes.  Fulfillment, no.

  I’ve noticed single parents, both young and old, jumping from one relationship to another relationship in search of their “special someone”.

 Dating is like a donut.  Sometimes you can’t eat just one, but you better not eat two because it will make you sick.

 You have to put space between each donut and between each relationship.  You need to think and assess each new and old relationship and learn from it.

 If you eat too many donuts or have too many relationships one after another, you might find that other people get sick of you.

Right after Christmas, I went with Noah, my son, to Holiday in the Park at Six Flags. We had a great time, but we froze our “youknowwhats”.

Standing in lines is not my idea of fun and if you add cold, windy weather on top of that, I go negative on the “fun-o-meter”.

But its always fun to watch people and I noticed something odd when we were standing in line for the La Vibora ride.

The smiles get bigger the closer you are to the front of the line.

Duh.

I guess that’s to be expected, but if you think about it, that is the opposite of what should be happening.

If you think about it, the longer you’re in the line, the more unhappy you should be and those at the front of the lines at Six Flags have been in those lines longer than the folks that just walked up to the line.

Obviously there is something that has to be changing the scowls and frowns to smiles.

Well, we know what it is. We’ve all experienced it…its the fact that we don’t have to stand in the line any longer…

I don’t think so.

Its the “ride”.

The closer you get to the ride, it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been standing in line, you are ready. You’re anxious about the ride and how much fun it will be. When they finally let your group through, you’re smiling even wider and can’t wait to get buckled in.

And just when you thought your smile couldn’t get any bigger…the ride is done. You’re back at the beginning of the ride and you’re smiling from ear to ear.

So what does this have to do with anything?

Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it is what it is.

(Did you think I would let this one go without a correlation?)

As people get older, I’ve noticed they frown more often. They look more worn out…they’ve been standing in the line for a long time.

There are very few people that I have seen or heard of that actually look forward with anticipation to their final “ride”.

I know I don’t.

I want to go to heaven, but not yet.

My grandmother told me one time, “Eric, sometimes you just get tired. That’s when you know you’re ready to go.”

(Crud, I’m in trouble. I feel tired all of the time.)

But there are few people that smile even wider as they get closer to the “ride”.

I know these are the same people that are going to enjoy the “ride” even more than the wait.

When I was 12, my parents bought me a cocker spaniel.  His name was Bucky.

I had begged for months to get a dog and finally they broke under the intense pressure of an unrelenting 12 year old boy. 

After the initial fun of the first few weeks of having a dog wore off, my mom and dad had to constantly remind me to feed Bucky, give him fresh water, give him baths and…pick up piles. 

Fun times.

My dad finally got tired of having to remind me so he sat me down.  He said “Eric, you’re the closest thing to God that Bucky will ever understand. 

You see, you can open doors.  He can’t.  You can open cans of food.  He can’t.  You can do so many things that he can’t and so he thinks of you somewhere in the God-level.

Are you anything like God?  Do you provide for him before he needs it?  No, you have to be reminded. 

Do you take care of him like God takes care of you?  No, you really don’t.

You need to step it up because you are failing.”

Talk about lighting a fire…

This is not to say that I didn’t have to be reminded to pick up piles or feed him, but my dad’s story got me to thinking every time I didn’t want to do something for Bucky.

God doesn’t neglect me and I shouldn’t neglect Bucky.  I decided I was better than that.

It was a great life lesson to learn early.

I’ve noticed that kids aren’t as patient as dogs. 

Kids let you know when they are hungry. 

Their dirty diapers stink…your nose requires that you do something about that.

But, just like the dog example above, kids see their Moms and Dads as the closest thing to God that they will likely see on Earth. 

We can drive, open up tight lids, braid hair (Elise, not me), spend money, etc…

Half the things we say they don’t understand. 

We are so complex and different from them.

We also have the capacity to love them like God loves them…or we can choose not to.

Looking at my track record, it’s a little embarrassing that I represent God in the way I do.

I remember one time when I was correcting Noah,  I was looking directly in Noah’s eyes and  I was telling him what he had done wrong and how I was deeply disappointed in what he had done.

As I was speaking, God hit me with a skillet.

I realized that I was speaking to Noah at that time and place, but that the words that I was speaking and the facial expressions I was making were going to be put in his archival memory and would be pulled out one day for him to speak to his kids. 

His kids would in turn do the same….and on and on…

It was at that point that I realized that I was speaking to future generations of little Bruntmyers yet to be born. 

I began to understand the duty that I had to Noah and all of my kids to speak to them and everyone that would come from them…to look in their eyes and see the generations that were to come…to understand that the behaviors and attitudes that I displayed on a daily basis in front of my kids would be replayed years and years later in their own lives with their own children.

Hopefully the children we have or will have and the generations to come from them will see God through the parenting that we do today.

I started working on an article today based on Paul’s words to Timothy in regarding how women should dress. I came across this incredible word to fathers on C.J. Mahaney’s blog.

Dads, I want to urge you to take responsibility for your daughters’ dress. Fathers are absolutely essential to the cultivation of modesty. When a young lady dresses immodestly, it usually means her father has failed to lead, care for and protect her. Without a father’s care and protection, she may be daily exposed to the lustful minds of men.

My three daughters are grown and married now, but from an early age I sought to impress upon them the importance of modesty. Before an article of clothing became a permanent part of their wardrobe my girls had to get my approval. This wasn’t always easy—for them or for me. Modest clothing is hard to find. Sometimes, they’d arrive home after an all day shopping trip only to hear me say: “That’s not gonna, work, my love. I’m so sorry, but exhaustion from shopping doesn’t excuse immodesty. We’re not going to compromise.”

I am a strong believer in the crucial role that father’s play in the lives of their daughters. This word from C.J. is a great reminder that it is not a father’s job to be ‘cool’ but to teach and instruct and protect his daughter. If a man loves his daughter deeply, then she will not need to go looking for that love in the often misusing arms of some hormone charged teenage guy.

About a year ago, I was driving in the truck with my kids and my daughter Avery said “Daddy, I want to sing you a song.”She started singing like only a 4 year old can and I listened to her serenade.

You should hear her sing.

About 30 seconds into the song, Kai, my oldest daughter, told her to stop because it didn’t sound good.

I told Avery to keep on singing that I was enjoying her songs.

Avery kept singing.

About six months after that, Kai, Avery, Noah and I went to visit one of our friend’s church. It was a little more charismatic then we were used to and I could tell the kids were filling uncomfortable.

How could I tell? In unison they all asked to go to the bathroom. I could tell where this was going, but decided to play along.

They all went to the bathroom and then when they came out Kai said “Dad, do we have to go back in? We don’t like it.”

I smiled and remembered Avery’s Song.

I said “Guys, do you remember several months ago when Avery sang me a song in the truck and Kai didn’t like the way it sounded?”

They all nodded.

“Do you remember that I told Avery to keep on singing?”

Again the nodding.

“Well, Avery was singing to me. She wasn’t singing for you. She wasn’t even singing for herself. She was singing for me. That’s why I told her to keep singing. It was a beautiful song because it was from Avery to me. It didn’t matter if you liked it or not. I liked it.”

Blank stares…I didn’t think I was going to be able to make the connection.

“Well guys, these folks are praising God. They are singing songs to Him. We may not be used to the songs or the way they worship, but they aren’t singing for us. They are singing for Him. If God doesn’t like it, He’ll let them know. Until then, we can sing along and appreciate their praise to our God.”

I could see the light go on in their heads.

Kai said “Okay, I guess we should go back in.”

Since that day, we have visited many different churches and experienced different worship styles.

We’ve been blessed to listen in as all of God’s children have sung Him their song.

And we’ve gotten to sing along.

       This weekend my son, Noah, was playing with some of his K'Nex (I think that is how you spell it.)

       After about 30 minutes he had to show me his contraption. He had made a spoke and wheel and then put it on an axle. He then began to spin its fast as he could.  (Here is an example of the K'Nex Coaster that may help you visualize what I am saying: http://www.knex.com/Shop/media_viewer_2.php?n=Ferris%20Coaster%20Help%  202&v=ferrisCoaster2final.wmv   )

       I suggested that he take one of the spokes off of the wheel to see how it would spin. It didn’t really spin, but instead it kind of wobbled. Not only that, it didn’t spin as long.

       Though he didn’t know it, he taught me a wonderful lesson. So many of us have been trained to be experts and we enjoy the fulfillment that it gives us. For many of us, work has become play. But sometimes work may become drudgery because it is the only spoke on the wheel. We’ve focused so much on it and have forgotten the other parts of life that God has given us.

       Whenever a wheel/axle is not in balance, it causes greater friction on the axle. With friction comes absorption of energy and a change of energy from the wheel to the axle. Too much heat and the axle fails. (Wow does this mean anything?)

       God wants us to have a balance in our work, family, church, etc... He wants the spokes He gave us to be in balance with Him as the axle. Take a spoke out and you get imbalance. Add too many spokes at unnecessary places and you get the same thing. Be careful because your relationships will be affected if you don't stay vigilant and correct the imbalance.

       After visiting Seoul, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Shanghai and Beijing, after reading The World is Flat by Thomas L. Friedman and after watching the video below titled “Shift Happens”, I was trying to digest a paradigm shift that was happening in me.

       One afternoon, I was driving down the road with my family in my Suburban and while stopped at a traffic light, I turned to my three oldest children (Kai, Avery and Noah) who were sitting behind me and I said:
       “Guys, school is important. There are kids in India and China right now that are studying their “tails off” trying to learn more than you. They don’t have much money and they don’t have video games, iPods, or Hannah Montana. Because they don’t have those distractions, they have a “ton” of time.  
       They work hard and long. They want the jobs that you are going to try to get when you graduate. If they are more prepared, they win.  
       If you don’t study hard, work hard and remain diligent, you will not have a job. You will be homeless and on the street without food, clothing or shelter.
       You cannot “goof off” at school. You must be serious about everything you learn as if you and your family’s lives depend on it.”
       The light turned green, so I started to drive and I could feel Elise’s eyes on me.  
       I asked what was wrong.
       She said “They’re just kids.  Do you have to be so serious?”
       I told her that their education is “that serious” and I don’t want them to fail for lack of effort.
       I looked in my rear view mirror to see the kids’ reactions.
       They were all staring straight ahead and with mouths open. I didn’t see a blink.
       I think the point was made. Maybe too well.
       By the way, I was preaching to myself, too.
       Just because I have a few degrees does not mean that I get the right to sit around and wait for “Shift” to happen.

      I can cause “shift” and I can direct “shift”. I may even be able to ride “shift”. But I can’t if I am not prepared.

       Jesus talked about the being stewards of the gift(s) He has given us.  Time is just one of those gifts. 

       We should not squander it, nor should we be unprepared.  Neither should we allow our children to be unprepared for His work.

       We should all be prepared for shift.  We should prepare our children for “shift”. 

       If not, “shift” will happen to them.