Freeze! Drop that bagel!

May 12, 2012 rodarters

Every morning I drive my kindergarten age son to school. Every morning we park down the street next to 20 other cars and take the short walk into the school, down the hallway to his classroom. Though I could drop him off in the car line, he prefers the escort and I prefer the company. Recognizing that life is short and children will not always want their parents around, I enjoy our morning routine.

Every morning, as we walk to the school – we pass by the friendly police officer who stands on the corner making sure none of us is run over by a sleepy driver. We arrive at the same time, we park in the same place, we nod hello to the same parents. This scenario is so predictable it is as if we are living out a scene from the movie Groundhog’s Day.

So, you can imagine my surprise when yesterday my son refused to get out of the car. Running a few minutes behind schedule, he was eating his bagel in the car and had not finished yet. The conversation went something like this:

Me: “Let’s go buddy. You are going to be late.”
Son: “I can’t daddy. I’m not finished my bagel yet.”
Me: “Eat and walk. You’ll be done before you get to your classroom.”
Son: “I can’t, Dad. The police officer is there.”
Me: “The police officer? So what?”
Son: “Dad, you know you can’t eat on the street. We’ll get in trouble.”

You can’t eat on the street? I was not familiar with that rule. Perhaps that law was passed in the middle of the night and I had not gotten word of it yet? Perhaps there was a crumb ordinance concerning the sidewalk around his school that I was not aware of? Maybe the police officer had a bad experience with a bagel once? I could insert a donut joke here, but I respect their position too much.

After a solid five minutes of reasoning, pleading, begging, bribing, negotiating, threatening my son to get out of the car with his bagel – we began our walk to his classroom. As we got closer to the police officer, my son made sure I was inbetween him and the law. He also made sure his half eaten bagel was on his far side, out of view. I couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t have food around the officer. I had never seen him so nervous while being so innocent. He was acting like a drug mule crossing the border of Mexico, except the drug was a plain bagel and the border was an elementary school. I almost wanted to apply for a concealed bagels permit or something for him, to ease his little mind.

We successfully made it past the cop and he finished his bagel and was safely in his classroom. As I walked past the officer, I smiled – as if I pulled a fast one on him. I wondered if his trained eye had even seen the bagel. I laughed as I drove home, wondering what had just happened. I imagined him telling his classmates an embellished story of how he smuggled a bagel through the no-bagel zone and eluded capture. Maybe that was my son’s initiation into a nefarious kindergarten school gang?

The whole situation caused me to reflect on how different we all are. There are those (like my son) who have such a pure heart and conscience that even when they are doing nothing wrong, they feel guilty. There are others (like me) who could steal candy from a baby and not even think twice about the action. Babies shouldn’t have candy anyway.

It reminded me of the scene in John chapter 1 when Jesus first met Nathanael. Within moments of meeting him and gazing into his heart, Jesus declared, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!” Jesus didn’t comment on his height. He didn’t remark on his hair. He didn’t compliment his robe or fashionable sandals. He looked at the only thing that mattered, his heart, and saw its purity.

I want that kind of heart. I want that kind of purity. I want that kind of conscience. My son is challenging me, while eating a bagel, to get it. Until then, I’m going to try to sneak an omelette past the officer tomorrow and see what happens.

“Let us draw near (to God) with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.” – Hebrews 10:22

Holy Kiss

May 9, 2012 rodarters

If you have read the Epistles (letters in the New Testament written by the Apostle Paul), you will find 4 similar verses in 4 different letters:

Romans 16:16 – Greet one another with a holy kiss.
1 Corinthians 16:20 – Greet one another with a holy kiss.
2 Corinthians 13:12 – Greet one another with a holy kiss.
1 Thessalonians 5:26 – Greet all the brothers with a holy kiss.

What is this holy kiss anyway? Is this a kissing someone in church? Kissing while holding a Bible? Praying while you kiss? Kissing while you pray? What exactly makes it holy?

Greeting one another with a holy kiss is foreign to us because we are generally not a kissing people. I mean we kiss our spouses or children or parents or our Italian Uncle or our cousins (That was for my Southern friends). But for the most part, we don’t usually “pucker up” for our greetings.

So, as this might sound strange to us, Luke 7:40-48 shows how common a greeting a kiss was back in the first century.

“Then he turned toward the woman and said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”

As you can see, Jesus rebukes Simon (a member of the leading religious organization called the Pharisees) for not greeting Him with a kiss when He entered his home. From what we know about Jewish culture, the kiss would have been delivered on one or both cheeks. We see this again in Luke 22:47-48 when Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss. Even today, in that culture – most everyone still greets with a kiss.

So, what do we do with these verses today? If you have never greeted anyone with a holy kiss, have you been sinning? Yes. I mean, No. I don’t know! Here is what we should take from it.

Greet other believers! I know it sounds elementary but we should make sure we are greeting other believers every opportunity we get. What does it communicate to a non-believing world when they see us greet other believers of different churches, denominations and colors? Though we are different and diverse, our bond is in Christ and that unity just baffles a non-believing world.
Greet your enemies! Jesus makes it clear, “If you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? (Matthew 5:47). What does it communicate to your enemies when you greet them, in spite of how they treat you? When you ignore those who persecute you or withhold your greeting from those who bother you, your actions become Gentile-ish, in the eyes of God. Remember, knowing that Judas was about to betray Him unto death, Jesus greeted Judas and allowed a kiss from the ultimate betrayer.
Greet appropriately. If an older person enters the room, respect for their age should cause you to rise to greet them (Leviticus 19:32). While you are greeting, you should always maintain eye contact and smile alot. The use of titles (such as “Mr.¨ or “Mrs.¨ or “Sir¨ and “Ma’am¨ are always appropriate, particularly with those older than you. The woman’s kiss (in the passage above) was appropriate given Whom she was kissing.
Greet affectionately. If you know the person well (family, close friend, etc) greet them with a holy kiss on the cheek. When they ask what you are doing, simply say “Romans 16:16 baby!¨ and make them wonder what kind of verse that is! If you know the person more casually, greet them with a holy hug or holy handshake or a holy high five. If the person is a true enemy, perhaps you should toss them a holy hand grenade. If you don’t have one, a warm greeting will do.

Regardless of how you greet, be sure that you do.

After all, who wants to disobey the kissing verse?

He also made what ???

May 8, 2012 rodarters

Once a month we have the privilege of witnessing a full moon. But one day of the year (this year it was May 6th) – the moon becomes a “supermoon”, the largest full moon of the year. The moon approached within 222,000 miles of the Earth in what is scientfically known as a perigee-syzgy of the Earth-Moon-Sun system.

Perigee = closest point of an elliptical orbit
Syzygy = straight line made of three bodies in a gravitational system.

(Yes, I googled that. No, I don’t want the jock bloggers to give me a whirly in the world wide web toilet bowl after class.)

I gaze at the moon often. I marvel at it’s size. Many a night I stop what I’m doing, walk outside and look at it next to its countless neighbors. As I ponder the giant reflector, I think of how it came to be – spoken into existence by its Creator,

“Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years, and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth.” And it was so. God made two great lights—the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. He also made the stars. God set them in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth, to govern the day and the night, and to separate light from darkness.” (Genesis 1:14-18)

Some interesting truths emerge:

This is the second time in the first four days of creation that God created light. It would appear that God is concerned this His creation is not in the dark, by day or by night. (Interestingly, His Son would one day arrive to this spiritually dark planet and declare Himself the “Light of the world”.)
Everything man has ever made, we created from existing material. By contrast, God made “creatio ex nihilo” or “creation out of nothing.” NO ONE else can do that. That is just one of the many things that separates a true Creator from His creation.
From God’s divine imagination, He not only created day & night, light and darkness but also instantly produced the framework of seasons and the boundary of time.
“And it was so.” There was no discussion. There was no hesitation. There was no committee in Vatican City to decide if the idea would have enough votes to pass. God thought it, spoke it and it was so. Impressive execution.
“He also made the stars.” This is one of my favorite verses in all of Scripture. God had just created the sun and the moon and the intense light that is emmitted (or reflected). Immediately after this, we learn that “He also made the stars.” As if God was adding a side dish to His culinary creation… “Oh yeah, by the way – I’m not sure if you noticed or not – but I also made the stars.” Today, several thousands of years after the creation account was recorded, we have a tiny idea on just how many stars He made:

As of April 2006, we have discovered 9 stars (like the sun) in our galaxy (the Milky Way) and 185 orbiting other stars. Beyond that, we know there are about 400 billion stars in our galaxy alone. If each of them have the same number of planets (on average) as our own sun, then that’s about 4 trillion planets in our own galaxy alone. Multiply that by an estimated 125 billion galaxies in the universe and you can see just how impressive that sentence is: “He made the stars also.” Wow!

As if the sheer volume of stars is not impressive enough, God’s personal nature is revealed in Psalm 147:4 where it says that “He counts the number of the stars; He gives names to all of them”.

Though the sun is essential and the stars are impressive, the moon is an absolutely brilliant idea. I mean, how can He create an environment on the planet conducive to sleep (an essential need for us) and yet at the same time, allow us (and the rest of creation) the ability to safely work/eat/move around at night, when needed? The moon is the perfect solution. The giant nightlight provides the light we need, while maintaining the necessary degree of darkness without the presence of heat. Absolutely brilliant.

Besides the light factor, it is also critical for 3 other reasons:

Most importantly, it keeps the earth from noticeably wobbling. Because the earth is tilted at 23 1/2 degrees, it would be very unstable unless the moon helped balance its axis of rotation.
The moon creates tides that help many animals during their breeding cycles.
The moon’s light at night allows animals to see so they can hunt for food and stay away from danger.

At the end of each day of creation, God sat back and looked over His work. At the end of each day, He made the same observation, “And God saw that it was good.”

I’m glad He does good work. It would be hard to write this blog (or do anything else) on a wobbly earth.

The witnesses of Jehovah

May 6, 2012 rodarters

Two Jehovah Witnesses came by the house yesterday morning. They were dressed up nice like usual and very polite. With a Joel Osteen grin, they both carried a Bible in one hand, JW materials in the other. Two different people actually came by a few weeks ago. They must not keep good records of who they contact. Or else word is spreading among the Jehovah Witnesses that the guy with the goatee on Danfield Drive really needs help.

They always “witness” in twos. I find the two man approach interesting. One does the hard work of silently praying for my soul while the other one does all the talking. One of these days I’m going to answer the door with some guy standing silently behind me – that should throw them off guard. Maybe the two silent ones can have a stare down or something.

It’s the same approach every time. He begins by talking about the nice weather and how he only wants a few minutes of my time. He tells me that God is the Creator of all of us and how we should read His word. I don’t disagree. He quickly opens his Bible – unsure of how much time he has before I cut him off. It feels like the Jehovah Witness version of American Idol; he is the nervous contestant and I am Simon Cowell. I can tell by his body language and slight nervousness that he gets a lot of slammed doors on him. He reads John 4:34 where Jesus says “My food is to do the will of Him who sent Me and to accomplish His work.” Just then I remember that my food (aka pancakes) are probably burning in the kitchen. He asks if I ever read my Bible. I told him I do – at which point he looked visibly surprised. Do I live in a pagan neighborhood, I wonder? Am I the only one who answered yes to that question recently? He then asks if I go to church. I told him I do – at which point he acts even more surprised. Now I’m starting to wonder if I should be offended. I’m also wondering how black my pancakes are. Do I not look like church material to him?? He then pulls out some JW materials and starts giving me a mini-Bible study in my driveway. To be honest, I didn’t really hear what he was saying. Partly I was wondering what was so surprising about me going to church. Mostly I was thinking about my pancake hockey pucks in the kitchen and if smoke inhalation had overcome my children yet. He must of sensed I was no longer tracking with him. He ended the study rather abruptly, left some material and expressed an interest in coming back next week.

I don’t mind them coming. I don’t even mind talking with them for a few minutes. What bothers me is their assumption that I’m going to hell. Of course, they don’t come out and say that but you can see it all over their face. You would think after I answered the Bible & church attendance question in the affirmative that they would move on to other neighbors. Nope. He treated me like I was some tribal indian living in an uncivilized section of Papua New Guinea. I swear he was even talking slow to make sure I could understand everything. As I was about to get mad at being judged by my appearance – my conscience quickly reminded me how I do that all the time – as recently as yesterday.

Yesterday, I was walking out of Walmart heading to my car when I saw a young man heading my direction. He was obviously a man on a mission – to me. As he got closer, I had the following thoughts:

I really need to shop at Target more. No one approaches me in their parking lots.
He had a skin head so that means he was in a gang.
He had a sleeve full of tatoos which means that he was going to try to beat me up and take my wallet.
He had a lot of ear piercings on both ears which means that he regularly enjoys mosh pits and loud rock music.
He had a nose piercing which means that he does drugs for breakfast.
He was wearing skater-type clothing which means he is a skater type person. Skater type people fall down on their skate boards alot and they get back up and do it again – which means he likes inflicting pain on himself.
His pants were way down past his rear which means he does not own a belt.
He had big black boots on which means he likes to kick small puppies for recreation.
He had a goatee which means… ok, I wasn’t sure what that means since I, too, have a goatee.

Anyway – he was approaching me fast and so I did what everyone does in this situation… I sprayed him with pepper spray. No, actually – I avoided eye contact. As I am trying to get into the vehicle without him realizing that I am totally trying to ignore him – he says,

“Sir, I am part of ________ (name of some Christian ministry organization) and we are trying to raise awareness about ________ (name some important cause) and I wanted to give you this pamphlet to look over when you have a moment.”

Wow. I did NOT expect that to come out of his mouth. I also did not expect to still be the owner of my wallet or teeth.

As I got in the car I realized how much and often I judge others. I have a feeling – if you are honest – you make similar judgments. The dad with the screaming child at the store must be a terrible Dad. That screaming child must be a spoiled brat. The teenage boy with the extra long hair must have a poor attitude. The teenage girls at the mall must have Bieber fever. The overweight mom must be a glutton. The jogger on Sunday morning must not go to church. The guy who drinks beer at the restaurant must be an alcoholic. All Christians are hypocrites. All jocks are stupid. All blondes are air-heads. All politicians lie. All Muslims are terrorists. All rich people are greedy. All homeless are lazy. All Catholic priests are…. you get the point.

We despise being judged and yet we judge others all the time – with impunity – from the comfort of our own mind, without anyone knowing.

So, I guess the moral of the story is to quit judging others. Chances are, you don’t really know what’s going on with the “polaroid snapshot” you just took of their life.

I’m going to really try hard on this one. And if I get jumped in the Walmart parking lot by an overly pierced, skin-head, tatooed skater type with low riding pants and black boots… well, it won’t surprise me. After all, it’s what they do.

(More about judging others can be found at this post: “How dare you judge me while I judge you!”)

A letter to Junior Seau

May 5, 2012 rodarters

Junior,

This letter is addressed to you but seeing that you are no longer with us – it’s really for those you left behind. I have followed your football career for the last 2 decades. Most kids dream about living the life you lived. Most athletes never reach the level of success you achieved. Even those who make it to the upper echelon of their game don’t last as long as you did – particularly in your sport. You helped your first team make it to their only Super Bowl appearance. You had an astonishing 1526 career tackles. You were invited to the Pro Bowl (the best of the best game) 12 different times. You acquired world-wide fame and a legion of fans. You made millions of dollars. By all accounts, people loved you and respected you. You had 3 children who are left trying to pick up the pieces. We all want to know why. Why Junior? Why end your life when most would have given theirs to have it?

It’s a question that haunts your mother. It’s a question that every teammate and coach can’t find the answer to. It’s a question that millions of young people need to have answered. Sadly, you may be the only one who ever knows. And your answer, as logical as it may seem to you, will NEVER make sense to your children. Ever.

Did you have a dark secret to hide? Did you do something you were ashamed of? Was the money not enough? Were you too famous? Did your glamorous life lack purpose?

Whatever your reason – it’s not good enough. Whatever your motivation, it isn’t acceptable. There is NEVER a good reason to take your own life. And for the benefit of those you left behind, I want to share 6 reasons why suicide is never the answer.

Though it was your life, it wasn’t yours to take. God is the Author of Life and you do not have the right or moral authority to snuff it out. Though He allowed you to die, it wasn’t His perfect plan for your life.
Suicide is selfish. It is the height of self centeredness. Watching your mother grieve on national television is painful to watch. The thought of mourning the death of a child is an unbearable torment for any parent. Unfortunately, you don’t have to see it. We do and we feel her pain caused by your moment of selfishness.
Suicide is cowardly. Every Sunday afternoon for 20 years, you were recognized for your toughness. On Tuesday, you revealed your cowardice. What was so painful that you couldn’t tackle it? What was so wrong in your life that you felt the only solution was to run away, permanently?
Suicide is a bad example. We all have problems. We all make mistakes. We all have regret. We all have hurt others in our past. We all want a “do over” or the ability to go back and make some changes. A lot of people looked up to you as a role model and you just taught your “students” how you coped with life’s biggest problems. You didn’t.
Suicide denies you the ability to see the next chapter. In your long athletic career, surely you have been part of a game where your team came back from behind to win. Without a doubt, you have had a coach or two give the speech at half-time that said something like, “Never give up. It is not over. We still have a chance. We can overcome this obstacle. As a team, we can defeat this opponent. We can change the score. We can come back from this disgraceful performance and rise again. We will do better next time, etc.” Not giving up is the badge of the true athlete. It is the mark of a true competitor. It is the anthem of every warrior. You were that athlete. You were that competitor. What happened? Now the game is really over. There is no 4th quarter miracle. No hail Mary can change this outcome. There is no extra time and there are no “repeat first downs.” You chose a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Your last chapter is now complete. Is this really how you wanted to end your book?
Suicide robs God of doing what He does best; forgiving sins and redeeming lives. Since we do not know your reason why, we can only speculate. You were obviously living with some demons that you didn’t know how to shake. For whatever reason – you thought you were better off dead, than alive. Had you known God better or trusted Him more – you would still be here. He gives strength when we are weak. He gives hope when we are hopeless. He gives help when we are helpless. He isn’t a crutch for weak people to use. He is THE stretcher for all people. And all He needs to hear is, “Help!” Psalm 121:1-2 says it best, “Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” If He can make heaven and earth – He can fix your problems.

I have not walked in your shoes to understand your pain. I do know I have my own pain, my own regrets, my own demons. I have had my moments of feeling the slithering breath of the devil whispering in my ear – telling me to end my life. I have made lots of mistakes. I have done terrible things I deeply regret. I have thought, at different times, that it might be easier to just end it now. But I haven’t quit. I won’t quit. And why? Because…

It’s not my life to take.
It’s a selfish option.
It is a cowardly action.
It is the ultimate bad example.
It would prevent me from seeing the next chapter in my life. I want to see God “restore what the locusts have eaten.” (Joel 2:25)
It would prevent God from showing the world what He can do with a broken Rod.

Goodbye Junior. I hope that God will somehow use your death to encourage others to live on – in spite of their problems.

My net worth = $1.04

May 3, 2012 rodarters

My daughter’s love language is gift giving. As a result,

she’ll take anything she finds and

wrap it in anything she finds and

give it to anyone she finds.

Several years ago, she gave me an unusual gift – wrapped in tissues and sealed with scotch tape. I couldn’t imagine what was inside.

So, she gives me this gift (as if it was brand new) and is very excited for me to open it. She puts so many layers of scotch tape around it that I basically feel like Houdini trying to get it open.

I asked her why she is giving me a gift for no reason and she says, “Because you are the best Daddy in the whole world.” That’s always an interesting thing to hear. On one hand, as a Dad – it melts your heart as you recognize how untrue it is.

On the other hand, you realize that she has only ever had YOU as a Dad and therefore her exposure to other Dads is severely limited.

So, as I am opening her gift I am wondering – what do you get the best Daddy in the whole world? I’m thinking an Ipod, rims for my 1989 Honda Accord or a Lowes gift card would be close. The wrapped tissue gift doesn’t feel like any of these. I finally break through the hermetically sealed tissue to find a bunch of pennies – exactly 104 of them.

THAT’S IT?? THAT’S what you get the best Dad in the world?? $1.04? Wow. I wonder what you get the worst Dad? But of course, I can’t react like that because her entire self-esteem hangs on my reaction. I can lift her spirits above the clouds or place them under my feet all by that split second – knee jerk response to her gift. Naturally, I act like a Junior High girl who just met Justin Beiber while winning the Powerball Lottery.

After the excited squeal and obligatory hug, I politely tell her that I don’t want her money – I would rather she keep it. She then asks with all sincerity – “Well, what can I get you?”

I answered, “What I really want – is for you to listen to me.”

And then it hit me.

That’s all God really wants from us.

He doesn’t want our money. He doesn’t want our long prayers or fancy clothes on Sunday or all our good deeds done for all the wrong reasons. He doesn’t want us putting ashes on our head one day a year and giving up ridiculous things for 40 days as if we are trying to prove something.

He simply wants us to listen… to Him… daily. In a word: Obedience

I Samuel 15:22 – “Has the Lord as much delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed than the fat of rams.”

Now I know why most people give God so much in their church offering plate eachSunday.

It’s easier than giving Him a “Yes Sir” and doing what He says.

The Application to date my daughter

May 2, 2012April 18, 2020 rodarters

Revised by Rod Arters (though much was borrowed by many other sources)

NOTE: This application will be incomplete and rejected unless accompanied by a one-time $99 processing fee, complete financial statement, job history, lineage and current medical report.

General Information:

Name: _______________________________

Date of Birth: _________________________

(If you were born before the year 1999, you are too old for my daughter)

Height: ___________ (if under 5’6″, please discontinue application)

IQ: _________ (if under 135, please discontinue application)

Weight: __________ GPA: _____ (if under 3.8, please discontinue application)

Do you own a belt? (if no, please discontinue application)

Social Security #: _______________________

Drivers License #: ________________________ (If you do not possess a drivers license, please discontinue application)

Detailed driving record:

______ # of accidents

______ # speeding tickets

_____ # parking tickets

______ TOTAL

(If the sum total is a number greater than “0”, please discontinue application)

Year, Make & Model of vehicle: _______________________________________

(If you do not own a vehicle or it is a luxury van, RV or any vehicle with a bed, please discontinue application)

Boy Scout Rank & Badges: __________________________________________

Home Address: __________________________________________________

Do you have a full-time job? _____ YES ______ NO (if no, please discontinue application)

Accessories:

Do you have any tattoos? _____ YES _____ NO

Do you have any piercings? _____ YES _____ NO

(This includes nose, earrings, tongue, cheeks or belly button)

Do you own a waterbed? _____ YES _____ NO

Do you own a truck with oversized tires? _____ YES _____ NO

Do you own a gun? _____ YES _____ NO

Do you have a criminal record? _____ YES _____ NO

(If you answered “YES” to any of these questions, please discontinue application)

References:

What is the name of the church you attend? _______________________________

How many times a week do you attend? _________

When would the best time to interview your:

1) Father? _________________

2) Mother? _________________

3) Pastor? _________________

4) Parole Officer? _________________

(If you have a parole officer, please discontinue application immediately)

Essay Section:

1) In 50 words or less, what does the word “LATE” mean to you?

2) In 50 words or less, what does “DON’T TOUCH MY DAUGHTER” mean to you?

3) In 50 words or less, what does “ABSTINENCE” mean to you?

4) In 50 words or less, what does “PUBLIC PLACE” mean to you?

Short Answer Section:

(Answer by filling in the blank. Please answer freely as all answers are confidential)

1) If I were shot, the last place I would want to be shot would be my: _____________

2) If I were beaten, the last bone I would want broken is my: __________________

3) A woman’s place is in the: ________________________________________

4) The one thing I hope this application does not ask me about is: ______________

5) IF I grow up, I want to become a: __________________________________

6) When I meet a girl, the thing I always notice first is her: ___________________

(If this is a body part, please discontinue application immediately)

7) What is the current going rate of a hotel room? _________________________

(if you know this, please discontinue application immediately)

I swear that all information supplied above is true and correct to the best of my knowledge under penalty of death, dismemberment, crucifixion, electrocution, waterboarding, or red hot pokers.

Applicant’s Signature:______________________________________________

Father’s Signature: _______________ Mother’s Signature: ___________________

Pastor’s Signature: _______________ Congressman’s Signature: _______________

In the space below, please provide finger prints, inked in your own blood for Homeland Security Identity Referencing & DNA sampling:

Thank you for your interest.

Please allow four to six years for processing.

You will be contacted in writing if you are approved. (Do not expect a letter)

In the unlikely event that you will be accepted, please read “Daddy’s Dating Rules”.

Daddy’s Dating Rules:

RULE ONE:

If you pull into my driveway and honk, you had better be delivering a package because you are sure not picking up anything in my house that evening.

RULE TWO:

You may only look at my daughter’s eyes. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter’s body, I will remove them.

RULE THREE:

Though it is fashionable by today’s standards to wear your pants below your rear, this is not acceptable attire while dating my daughter. Should you have trouble keeping your pants “up” in the appropriate spot (which, by the way, is just below your armpits) – I will gladly staple them where they need to be.

RULE FOUR:

When I communicate with you – here are the correct answers to my questions:

1) Question: When will you have my daughter back?

Answer: early

2) Question: Will you kiss my daughter goodnight?

Answer: Only if I want my lips removed from my mouth.

3) Question: When is it ok to touch my daughter?

Answer: Only when I am pushing her out of the way of a moving vehicle about to hit her.

4) Question: What are the appropriate titles to address me?

Answer: Your Honor, Your Majesty, Sir

5) Question: When there is a misunderstanding between you and my daughter, who is right?

Answer: She is.

RULE FIVE:

If you make my daughter cry, I will make you cry. Any questions?

RULE SIX:

The following places are never appropriate with my daughter:

Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool.
Places where there is darkness.
Places where there is dancing, holding hands or happiness.
Places where the temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, sweaters or goose down parka – zipped up to her throat.
Movies with romantic or sexual themes are forbidden. Movies which feature torture or chainsaws are acceptable.
Places where you are alone or outside of my field of vision.

Preferred places would be:

My living room
Front pew of church
Police stations
Nursing Homes

RULE SEVEN:

Regardless of my age, appearance or physique, I can still take you.

RULE EIGHT:

Never lie to me. Consider me the all knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one opportunity to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

RULE NINE:

Be afraid of me. Very afraid. The sound of your car in my driveway will always remind me of a chopper coming over the sand dune in Desert Storm. As soon as you pull into the driveway, you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car in a serpentine fashion. There is no need for you to come inside or to the door. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

Take the shot

April 30, 2012 rodarters

When choosing a college, I had one determining factor. I wanted to go somewhere that would allow me an opportunity to play soccer on the collegiate level. After looking at several local colleges and universities, one of them decided to offer me a partial scholarship to play soccer! Not being the greatest player, I assumed it was a clerical error on their part and accepted the offer before they changed their mind. Now I could forever brag to my grandkids, that their granddad was so good that he got paid to play soccer. In my mind, I was like a professional. Who cares if the school was St. Mary’s school of the Blind? They wanted me to be on their team so badly, that they were willing to shell out $1000 per year for me to play. Back then, it seemed like a huge offer. I was wondering why we didn’t hold a press conference to announce the news to the world. Now, it seems like the equivalent of them offering me a Bojangles coupon to play.

One of the things I liked best about the school was the coach. He was a good man, very funny, down to earth and very well connected in the world-wide soccer community. While coaching our private Division III school team, he was also doing some coaching for the U.S. Olympic Team. As a result, every once in awhile we would see an Olympic caliber star on the practice field with us. Deep down, I know the Olympic stud was excited to play alongside of professional players, like myself.

College soccer is very different than high school ball or the many travel teams I played on. For one, it is more intense. It is way more competitive. Everyone is faster, stronger, better. I found myself consistently frustated that I never had time to prepare for a good pass, a good shot, a good chip. Everytime I had the ball, I was swarmed by an opposing player and rushed into doing something quicker than I wanted to. My coach noticed that I was not performing up to par and pulled me aside for some advice that has served me well, even in life – ever since.

“Rod, take the shot. Don’t wait for it to be pretty or look just right. Just take the shot. You may not feel good about it – but some of them will go in.” He was right. I was waiting for the planets to line up. I was waiting for other players to roll out the red carpet to their goal and make it easy for me. It wasn’t going to happen – so I had to just “take the shot” whenever I had the opportunity.

Life is alot like competitive sports. It is fast paced. It is intense. There is no time. Other people don’t make it easy. It is competitive and there are people out there who distract you from doing what you need and want to do. So, how do you do the things you want to do when you feel you don’t have time to do the things you need to do? You take the shot. If you want to paint, you begin part-time – after the kids are in bed. If you want to read more – you read that book, in 5 minute increments, in the bathroom if you have to. If you want to be better about reaching out to friends – you make that call while you are driving – even if the conversation is only 3 minutes long – it’s better than not connecting at all. You stay up late. You get up early. You watch less TV. You “take the shot” – even if you’re not 100% ready. It may not be perfect. It may not feel right but at least you are taking the shot and moving closer towards your goal.

What shot do you need to take? What is keeping you from taking it? If you are waiting for the clouds to clear first, it will never happen. Take the shot. Start today.

“You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” – Wayne Gretsky, Hockey legend.

The Chihuahua siren

April 30, 2012 rodarters

I love most dogs and cats… from a distance. I enjoy their company as long as I don’t have to feed them regularly or pick up their “droppings.” I enjoy an occasional petting or game of fetch but other than that – I’m good. My schedule doesn’t allow me to be a good owner anyway. At least that’s what I tell myself when those pathetic SPCA commercials come on TV, with the sad music, telling me I should save the cutest little puppy ever from certain doom. If it wasn’t for the remote control, I’d own 400 of them by now and be a reoccurring star on Animal Hoarders.

The most annoying dog of all, to me, is the Chihuahua. I don’t find them attractive, snuggly, obedient or quiet. But, today, I realized their importance. The picture (below) is a home less than 1 mile from me. I drove by it today and now realize what those sirens were about in the middle of the night. Seeing my neighbor’s home destroyed like that is a humbling experience. Someone lived there. Someone had breakfast there. Someone slept there. Someone mowed that grass. Kids were raised there. It had photo albums and souvenirs from previous vacations and memories, tons of memories. Every wall had a story. Every window had a view. Everything, now, is gone.

At 2:30am, the homeowners were sleeping when that annoying, ugly Chihuahua of theirs began to bark. When he wouldn’t stop – the homeowners went to inspect. Apparently the door to their garage was hot. In less than 3 minutes, the house was engulphed in flames and it would take over an hour for the fire department to control the blaze. They managed to get everyone out (including the dog) and lost everything but their lives. In the end, that’s the only thing that really matters.

I may not live in my dream house, but at least I have a place to go to tonight. I may not have been on the best vacations ever – but at least I have pictures to show. I may not drive the most reliable car but I can get in mine today and drive somewhere. All in all, I’m feeling grateful. Grateful that my neighbor is alive. Grateful that they owned a dog, even if it is ugly and loud. Grateful for the firefighters who risk their lives to save others. Grateful that it wasn’t me.

I think the next time I hear some sirens or even a Chihuahua barking incessently, I’ll say a quick prayer. It will remind me to be grateful for my many blessings. I’m still changing the channel on the TV when I see the “save the dog” commercials. I’d rather be in Heaven then listen to that barking all day.

Welcome to my cloud in the blogosphere

April 28, 2012May 23, 2015 rodarters

I have been writing since age 5. First it was just my name. Then it was basic sentences in grade school (“See spot run”). Eventually it was long essays in middle school followed by even longer term papers in high school. One such paper was a 10 page (minimum) paper on a favorite United States President. I waxed eloquent for 12 pages about Abraham Lincoln. The teacher graded my paper (AND somehow 22 others!!) in a 45 minute period in the dark while we watched some boring filmstrip (remember those?) about something in history. Before we left class that day, I discovered three things:

The class finds it really funny when you “pick” someones nose on the big screen while the teacher isn’t looking.
I get good grades when I write. I got an “A+” for my Abe Lincoln filibuster.
No one really reads what I write (which is sadly, directly correlated to #2)

And thus… my writing career began.

After high school, I retired my #2 pencil and graduated to the keyboard. Writing became even more fun and fast. I went on to college and wrote dozens of other papers with mostly positive results. Along the way, I quickly realized the importance of spell check. I no longer had to re-read my boring writing and check for errors, I simply could let the spell checker do the work for me. That is, until my Freshman year English class fiasco.

After procrastinating on a 20+ pager due tomorrow, I wrote the paper in less than 24 hours. With only 30 minutes to spare before the deadline, I needed to print it out and walk (aka sprint) across campus to submit it in time. I hit “save” and it asked if I wanted to spell check the document. Of course! It then asked if I wanted to make changes. Of course! I blindly hit “yes” to everything, printed it out and was on my way.

A week later, the professor handed back the papers… all except mine. When he asked who did not receive their paper back, naturally – my hand went up. “Ah, yes. That makes sense. Why don’t you come up and get your paper?”, he said with a devilish smirk on his face. I grabbed the paper and my mouth dropped open.

Somehow, I signed the paper, “Rod Arters” and evil spell check turned it into, “Rodent Arteries”.

Spell check: 1, Rod: 0

By the way, I received a “B” on that paper. The professor thought the content was excellent but could not give an “A” to someone who couldn’t spell their own name. =sigh=

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rod arters

Delivering thought-provoking truths about life, mistakes, faith, hope and grace.

Category: General