2015

And so the new year begins - 2015!  What a year this will be:
In January I will get the opportunity to speak at a marriage retreat for couples who have a child with a disability.  I'll get to continue my education with the Partners in Policymaking class that I've been enrolled in.  I'll start my 6th semester as a professor at OC and get to hang out with some of my favorite people, my students.
In February I will celebrate 37 years of my beautiful wife being alive.  I will celebrate Valentines Day with my little princess at the annual Princess Tea.  I'll hopefully watch Peyton Manning and the Broncos avenge last year's SuperBowl loss. I'll speak at the church that gave me my first job on Resilient Fathers, Resilient Families.
In March, I'll watch and cheer on my students in like my 30th strait Spring Sing show.  I'll spend some great time with my family on Spring Break.  I'll get a big Dr. Pepper and some wings and enjoy a little Madness.
In April, I'll continue the madness and hopefully ring in yet another Kansas National Championship.  I'll shed some tears and send away another graduating class from our Psych and Family Science department with pride in my heart and confidence that they'll be excellent in our fields.
In May, I'll teach my first summer course.  I'll celebrate my baby sister's 31st birthday.  I'll go to my in-law's house on Grand Lake and catch some bass.  I'll spend some great quality time with my daughter as she will leave childcare this summer to get ready for Kindergarten.
This summer I will go home and celebrate my 20 year high school reunion with some very dear friends.
In June, I'll celebrate 2 years of life with my hero, Josiah Matthew.  I'll cry thinking about all we've been through, and I'll smile thinking about all that is to come.  I'll spend some more time with Lydia, and probably get some wood-working done.
In July, I'll celebrate my own birthday (38 years - wow).  I'll load up in a car with my buddy Gabe and head off to one of my favorite places on earth.  I'll spend an entire week at Green Valley Bible Camp with people who raised me, and with kids that I'm helping to raise myself.  It will be my 27th straight year.
In August, I'll begin my 4th year as a professor at OC.  I'll teach all family science courses for the first time.  I'll think about my buddy, my son's namesake who will celebrate his 38th birthday just a few short weeks after mine.  I'll send my beautiful young daughter off to school for the first time.  I know I'll cry, but I'll be so proud of her.
In September, I'll spend precious time with my Hamlin family at our third biannual Hamlin Family Reunion.  We'll remember those who have passed from us and celebrate the amazing legacy they have left behind.  I'll hug on my Uncle Dick and Aunt Cheryl's necks and let them know how very much I love them.
In October, I'll be swamped with school work and enjoying every minute of it.  But, I'll complain anyway.  I'll get to pick out which superheroes my kids will be for Halloween this year.  I'll go trick or treating with them and steal most of their candy when they sleep.  I'll even try to sweet talk Lisa into buying a Super Girl outfit.
In November, I'll celebrate the birthdays of both of my parents, Dad will be 63 and Mom 61.  I'll go to Canada for the first time to be a part of the annual NCFR conference with my colleagues and friends.  I'll get to celebrate my favorite holiday with my family and even though I make fun of it, I'll secretly enjoy our ever-growing circle of thanks.
In December, I'll finish up another semester of school.  I'll again celebrate family, friends, and my Savior.  I'll give gifts and receive gifts.  I'll leave cookies out for Santa, and wake up early to see if he ate them.  He will!  I'll watch football.  I'll think what a great year 2015 has been and look forward to 2016.

In reality I have no idea what will happen in 2015.  But, I do know this: I will strive to be better each day than I was the day before.  I will attempt to cherish my wife and kids each day as if it were my last.  I will do my best to let them know I love them.  I will live hard and fast and enjoy every minute that I can.  I will allow myself to step back, to relax, to feel.  I will try to be angry less, and to listen more.  I will pray for you and hope that you will do the same for me.  I will not be ashamed to say I love you to anyone.  I will strive celebrate each new morning of life by spending time with my God and I will celebrate each ending day by sharing devotional with my family.  I'll do my best to be a great friend, an engaging professor, a humble child, a deserving husband, a super daddy, and a repentant sinner.

In short, it's this daddy's desire for us all to have a great 2015.

*Written in memory of Don Hamlin - I miss you Grandpa!*

Dear Son,

It has been one year since you arrived in our lives. In that year you have changed me in so many ways. I never thought that I could be so in love with you.  You see when I found out you were coming, I was scared out of my mind.  I had no idea how I would be able to handle everything.  I assumed the worst.  I tend to do that (you'll figure that out as you get older).  When you got here we spent the first month of your life in the hospital.  It was so hard to see you laying there with all of those tubes and wires coming out of you.  I just wanted to take you home.  It seemed like every day the doctors would give us 1 piece of good news and 3 of bad.  I have never been as upset as I was during that time.  When we finally got to bring you home all I could think about was your upcoming heart surgery.  My boy undergoing open heart surgery was just too much for me.  And so I got angrier.  Son, my love for you was so great that I was angry.  Angry at myself, angry at your mom and sister, angry at you, angry at God.  My heart was so heavy with despair that I just couldn't focus on life.  

Now I don't want you to think that you were the cause of all of this.  No, son you were the light in a very dark place.  I let myself get to that place, but you brought me back.  You made it through that surgery like a champ.  You excel with a syndrome that many would consider a weakness.  You are a fighter.  And even though you do not know it, you fought for me!  

I told you earlier that you have changed me this year.  Here are just a few of the ways.  I am considerably less angry than I have ever been.  When I look into your face, a face that looks an awful lot like mine by the way, all I see is that precious smile and I know there is nothing this world can throw at me that has any power over me to get me angry.  

I am more faithful.  I had taken my faith for granted for many years.  Through your life I have rediscovered a strength that is not my own.  I have been reinvigorated with the sense of God's Spirit alive and at work in my life.  I have a peace that I have not known for a long time.  I have a feeling that you can see the spiritual in a way that I will never be able to.  That is probably the reason for that 24 hour smile.  

Before you were born, when I thought about our relationship it was always in terms of what  we wouldn't or couldn't do.  I see how silly that is now.  The possibilities are endless for what we can do together; for what you can be.  You are not limited.  You are not disabled.  You are blessed.  And you are mine.  

Son, there are not enough words in all of the languages of the world to describe my love for you.  You are all of the great things about life rolled into one tiny little package.  I will never be the same because of the way you have touched my heart in just one year.  And I cannot wait to see what changes are in store in the years to come.  You are the desire of this daddy's heart, my pride and joy!  

Happy first birthday!  Love, 

Daddy

The Heart of the Matter

The heart of the matter is what is the matter with my heart.  You see I had to realize that it isn't just my exterior that is broken.  In fact I would never have gained all of this weight without having a broken inside.  I've written before about how much it hurts to lose something that you so looked forward to (ambiguous loss).  One of the big discoveries I've made on my journey thus far is that my heart had been broken for a long time.
It wasn't the news of Josiah's extra chromosome that had broken it.  It was a lack of use.  When I left ministry in 2008 I actually left God.  Now this wasn't a formal leaving born out of anger or confusion; no this was a gradual distancing of myself from being with Him.  The crazy part?  I really had no idea I was doing this.  Over the past 6 years I have thrown my all into one thing after another: grad school, Lydia, teaching a teen apologetics course, dissertation, new job, Josiah.  Notice who is not in that list?  God.  And my wife (I'll get to that).
So, I've been meandering along here keeping busy and fooling myself into thinking that all is fine with me and the Creator.  I think I even fooled others.  It wasn't.  It isn't.  I'm not just working to fix my body now.  Prayer, study, time, investment, depth of understanding, gaining of knowledge, increasing in wisdom, these are the goals that I have for myself.  And hard as it is to run, ride my bike, lift weights, and get that body back in shape, it is even harder and dare I say more important, that I get that heart in shape too.
Neglecting relationships that matter seem to be a common thread for me.  I have been married to my beautiful wife for 7 years.  I have spent much of time focused on everything and everyone except her.  I have let my fears and worries distance me from her love.  I have let my concerns keep me from hers.  I have often treated her as second fiddle instead of partner.  And I know this is because of the heart problems.  If God isn't allowed into any part of my life, including my marriage, how oh how am I expecting it to succeed?
As I grow closer to God, I long to grow closer to my wife.  Lisa is an amazing woman who has shouldered the responsibility of faithfulness in our family over the past year.  She is quiet but strong, sweet but firm.  She loves me and deserves nothing less in return.
I choose today to get to the heart of the matter by changing what's the matter with my heart.  I hope my kids will see in me a Godly man but more a reflection of their savior.  Complete in mind body and soul, an example for them to aspire to - I think that is a great goal for any daddy to desire.
BK

I'm thankful...

I spent the past weekend talking about the existence of God with a group of amazingly intelligent high school students.  The questions they asked were both challenging, and asked with a heart of desire to lead people to Christ, rather than win an argument.  We finished up the retreat on Sunday morning talking about how an all good God could exist knowing that there is evil and suffering in the world. This is a question that has been on my mind a lot over the past several months.
I have asked many questions of God regarding Josiah's diagnosis.  Why him?  Why me?  What did my son ever do to deserve this?  How can you allow these things to happen?  None of these questions are easily answered and to be honest, the full answer is not to be comprehended with simple logic.  Sometimes, one has to step out with faith to find understanding.
These questions are even harder to answer when you're in the midst of the suffering yourself.  But every once in a while something or someone steps up to the plate to show you that God is alive and well in the lives of his people.  He is working in this long-suffering world.  He does care.
Several weeks ago, the church that I grew up in, called out of the blue to offer assistance to my family with bills that had been piling up since Josiah's birth.  One of my heroes called me and asked how we were doing, to which I replied, "Well to be honest, sometimes its a struggle."  Two days later a generous donation from the church arrived in our mailbox.
Just a few short weeks ago, while attending a conference in San Antonio, I was confronted by a dear friend.  He asked, "How are you doing with everything?"  I said, "I'm good.  Things are getting better. Yeah, we're good."  I say that a lot to people to keep them at arm's length.  Truth be told its a lie and easier than getting into every emotion I'm feeling; every thought I'm thinking.  But this friend was having none of that.  He simply stared at me and smiled, as if to say, "Bull.  I know you're not okay."  Finally, I broke the silence and said, "You're right, I'm not good.  I'm struggling."  What followed was a much needed time of debriefing and counseling.  In that conversation I realized that I'm still angry.  I'm still hurt.  I'm still questioning.  My faith is wavering no matter how hard I try to keep it from doing so.  And then there was a glimpse of healing.  I made a decision to get help.  And, I'm doing that.  I made a decision to refocus on the relationships that mean the most to me, God, Lisa, Lydia and Josiah, family, friends, and I'm trying.
And just a few short hours ago, I walked into my office to find a letter on my desk.

Bobby and Lisa,

We have heard about some of the challenges and trials that you and your dimly have faced recently.  we have also been told about your unwavering faith through these times and your great example of the hope that we as Christians should have regardless of what comes our way. 

We know that there may be some burdens in your lives that won't be removed soon.  However, in the midst of those burdens we hope that we may be able to facilitate a small blessing in your lives.  Please accept this gift from one Christian couple to another.  We pray that this will make it easier for you to enjoy the blessing that God has richly provided to all of us during this holiday season.  

Know that as members of the body of Christ, you are not alone.

With love, your brother and sister in Christ.

And that's it…no name, no address, no desire to be know.  Just a letter of blessing and a gift that unless holding it, I would've never thought real.

So, I'm thankful.  I'm thankful for the teens in Stillwater, who are not afraid to ask the tough questions, and even less fearful of finding answers.  I'm thankful for the McCune church of Christ, and the people who helped raise me, and are taking care of me still.  I'm thankful for my friend Ben, and so many like him, who are not going to back down, or abandon me because I'm struggling.  I'm thankful for an amazing couple who I may never know, or get to thank in person for a gift that blessed us beyond measure, the knowledge that we're not alone (the cashier's check was nice too).
I'm thankful to God that through so many avenues he is showing me that He is alive and cares and working in his people.  I'm trying desperately to make my way back to you God.  I've been away for a while and the road is littered with obstacles and questions, but I'm thankful that you're not giving up on me.
If you're reading this, well, I'm thankful for you too.  You are a blessing to me and to my family.  You are loved.  And those blessed love relationships are what this daddy desires.

 

 

 

 

My God conundrum.

Tonight, I am anxious.  No, I'm scared out of my ever-loving mind.  I'm not sure if I'm coming or going.  I've been holding Josiah most of the evening and fighting back tears as I go.  Tomorrow is the day of his open heart surgery.  

I've never understood those who argue that God can't exist because of all the hurt in the world.  But, lately I've been questioning Him.  Not His existence mind you, just Him.  I find myself asking what I did, or even what Jo did to deserve Downs, heart problems, developmental delays, you name it, I've questioned it.  And, before you post the comments that I know are coming, let me just say, I know the answers.  I know the phrases that are "right".  But, still I question.  I've even found myself bargaining with God, "you heal Josiah, and I'll be better."  Totally the opposite of any theology I've ever had.  As if God needs my better for His will to be carried out.  

I asked several weeks ago for people to pray to God that He be glorified through all of this, no matter what.  As the heart surgery has gotten closer, I find myself praying less.  Not because I don't believe, but because for the first time in my life I find myself in a bit of a God conundrum.  I'm angry.  I'm angry all the time.  And at times I blame God for that.  I'm scared.  I'm scared all the time.  And at times I blame God for that too.  And then I put on my happy, brave, faithful face so that no one knows whats really going on inside of me.  I'm broken.  

And so, here I am tonight, anxious, scared, angry, in tears as I watch my son, knowing that tomorrow he undergoes something that I have no control over.  I have no control.  And though I "know" no matter what that God has control, I am hesitant to let Him have it.  Do you see the conundrum? I can't let God have something that I don't even have anyway.  

I know so many of you are praying for Josiah, and praying for us, and for that I am thankful.  We need, we covet those prayers.  But, tonight, I hope that you'll pray that God helps me solve my conundrum.  I hope that I'll get over the anger, that I'll let go of the worry, that I'll be rid of fear.  This is my desire. 

Glorified

Many prayers have went up on behalf of Josiah over the past several months.  Many times, I haven't even known what to pray for.  But, my prayers have become more clear lately.  You see my son has Down Syndrome and there is nothing that I can do to change that.  My son has a hole in his heart that needs to be surgically repaired, and there is nothing that I can do to change that.  There may be any number of things that my son has to deal with as grows older, and there is nothing that I can do to change that.  And sadly, there will be a time when I have to say goodbye to Josiah here on this earth, and there is nothing that I can do to change that.
But, I can do something.  I can dedicate this precious life to God Almighty.  I can pray every day that God is glorified through the life of my son.  I can pray that those who may not know God, can come to know Him because of Josiah.  I can entrust my boy completely to God's care.  And that is what I choose to do.
Many will not understand this.  Pray for miracles, they'll say.  Pray for healing, they'll say.  And I will. I'll pray fervently for those things.  But, that will not be my only prayer.  That will not be my first prayer.  I'm learning that there are things that are more important than chromosomes, than healthy hearts, than physical well-being.  And though this prayer is harder to pray, I will pray throughout his life, in highs and lows, good health and bad, scary times and amazingly happy times that God is glorified.  And if the best case scenarios play out I will be strengthened because God is being made known through my son.  And if the worst case scenarios play out I will be strengthened because God is being made known through my son.
So, please, please continue to pray for my son.  But do not be afraid to alter your prayers a bit.  Do not be discouraged to pray that God is glorified first, and Josiah is protected second.  Do not be upset if the God is glorified but Josiah has more complications.  Do not give up on my God.  Never stop praying.

Father, I dedicate my children to you.  I will teach them your ways.  I will teach them your love.  I relinquish control of their precious lives to you.  I am honored to have been entrusted with their care, and in turn will strive every day to return them to you.  My prayer to you is that you will receive the glory due you because of their lives.  And if that means that they are kept from harm, I will praise you.  And if that means that there lives become complicated messes, I will praise you.  God, take care of them.  Hold them in your arms and protect them in the ways that only you can.  And give me strength to teach, love, and protect them here in this place.  Please bring us home to that glorious place with no abnormalities, no disease, no worries, as soon as possible.  I love you Father and this daddy's desire is that his children will too.  Amen.

Hope!

The NICU is a scary place.
You would think that any place chalked full of babies would be the opposite of scary, but not so.  Several months ago I spent some time in the NICU as "clergy" for some dear friends of ours from Stillwater.  Their son, also born at Mercy, spent several weeks/months in hospitals.  He started in the place we called home this past July, the Mercy NICU.  When I was coming and going as a visitor to see Dustin and Lindsay, I didn't really get the full effect of just how scary the NICU could be.  I followed the daily reports of their son, prayed with them, tried to get them some food if needed, and then did my best to get out of their hair.  Other than washing up to my elbows when ever I came to see them, I really had no idea what went on in this little world.  But, on June 24th at a little before midnight I was about to find out.
Josiah Matthew came into this world in the craziest way I could imagine.  In fact it was so crazy that I hadn't even imagined it.  The first 6 hours of his life were spent in the transition nursery. Being in the transition nursery is like waiting in line for a haunted house.  You're not sure what's coming next, but you're pretty sure you won't like it.  After, the 6 hours were up, it was determined that Josiah was not doing the things that he needed to do in order to move upstairs and be with us.  It was at that time that we were admitted to the NICU.  It was at that time that I really became scared.
Josiah was given his own room and enclosed in a crib that immediately reminded me of the vessel that Kal-El traveled to Earth in long before he became Superman.  It was completely enclosed, with weird flashing lights, and monitors hooked up to it.  And, making their way throughout the stronghold of the ship were several little tubes and wires all of which were leading to the same place, Josiah's little body.  Holding my boy was out of the question when he was in there.  But there was a nifty sliding door that allowed us to put our hands through the side and at least touch him.  Then came the blue lights for the jaundice, just to make things, well, creepier.
As if seeing your own child hooked up to machines and looking like a cyborg strait off the SyFy channel isn't enough, you end up getting to know other families who have little cyborg babies themselves, many of which in a lot worse shape than Josiah.  One little guy was about to have his 3rd major surgery in just a few short weeks of life.  One family with twins got the unexpected news that one of their children was okay to be released, but the other was not doing so well.  In the NICU you become almost like family, checking in on each other, making sure that each one is doing as well as can be.  Sometimes there is guilt when your child reaches a milestone that others have not, but that soon vanishes when you realize that every little baby's accomplishment in that big family brings hope to the loved ones of every other little baby.  Sometimes there is anger when your child seems to be doing well, but then has a setback.  That too vanishes when the people, the family now surrounding you comes to your aid with words of wisdom and comfort.  There was one mother that I saw every day at the sinks.  Every day we talked about our kids, sharing the highs and lows of the day and night before.  Every day we prayed for each other's child.  And on our last day, she was so over the top happy for us that I couldn't help but smile.  And then while we were talking, she got word, that her own son was ready for the overnighter, the last step before going home, and would probably be released the next day.
It makes sense to me that the first person I called after Josiah was admitted to the NICU was my friend Dustin.  I was scared.  Dustin had been there.  He spoke truth when truth is what I needed.  He told me there would be highs and lows.  He told me there would be thoughts and emotions that no one else would understand.  He told me that faith would be tested and then strengthened.
The NICU is a scary place.
But Josiah has hope.
And that is definitely what this daddy desires.