Monday, August 29, 2022

My Place of Peace


 My Place of Peace

Peace
What the heck is it anyways
Always has seemed to be elusive to me in its meaning
I know it when I see it
When I feel it
I grew up in a hectic world
So early on I knew no peace
No place of peace

Until

Someone told me
"Peace I leave you.
My peace I give you."

I mulled those words around for years
Slowly I started to find peace
A fullness of the moment I am in
The hectic world around me stops
Contentment comes over me
I see the harmony of the colors
I feel the beat of the drum
No matter that my surroundings is so loud
I am at peace
I feel peace

Sometimes I just sit
And read
Those words on the page
Bring me peace

A walk in the meadow
With my grandkids
Hearing their laughter
Across that meadow
Brings me peace
That is peace
Given to me
Left for me
To be at peace


Monday, August 22, 2022

Curiosity

 

 

Curiosity

See
What is down there?
Inside
That crack in the fallen down log
A bug crawls fast, fast
Into the shadow
Peek closely
Pull the bark back

Oil painting and all its facets
Apply the paint really thick
Pull the brush through
The bright blue into the deep purple
Look at that!
Bring in the deep green
Streak that forest green through
A deep forest valley is created
Step back
Exhale

Listen
Waves crawling in on the rocky beach
Hey what is that?
A rock moving as the waves recede
Rocks don't have legs
With pinchers
Quick
Turn over that rock
That the pincher legs crawled under
WOW !
That creature knows me
Cuz it has stopped and is pointing his arms, his pinchers at me
Like an orchestra conductor
He is little
I am bigger
Kinda big

What is next for today
I pull out my camera
She pulls out her magnifying glass
We go explore

Tuesday, August 16, 2022

Cross of Christ

Cross of Christ

Up on the hill
High above me every day
As I scream through life
My speed of life
Bumps in the road?
Yes, many, many
Oh I have those smooth sailing type of days
When skies are sunny and blue
But then around the corner
Yep there are the potholes of life
Will I ever just slow down
And just stroll
And look up
To that hill
With the cross
The three crosses
That cross is my anchor
What guides my life
My daily
My everyday
Always
It is there always
Yesterday
And tomorrow
Always
Will  I look up?
Yes today I will
Look up often
To that Cross of Christ

Monday, August 08, 2022

Classy

 

Classy

You are classy
Classy in the way you say hello
Classy in the way you talk about your day
Not just the ordinary
Something unique is said
Your words are classy

You have that look
The look of classiness
Pearls with denim jeans
That type of classy
Elegance wraps around you
As it always has

You focus on others
So classy
To do this
So interested
In what someone else's journey
Someone else's struggles
Someone else's victories

Age is never a requirement
To be classy
You were when you were eighteen
Just as you are now
Many decades later

The funny thing is
You most assuredly do not think of yourself
As being classy
Which is so classy

Sunday, July 31, 2022

I Love It Here


I Love It Here

I love it here
She said
While strolling on her favorite beach
On her favorite island
Her home.


I am not far behind.
Actually, I have placed my rear
On a big driftwood log
I like to look out to sea
She likes to look down the shoreline
I look for sailboats
Or freighters
An intriguing image
To photograph
She looks for shiny things
Seaglass in particular
Or shells

We are together
Although we go at different paces

We are both soulful
Both taking in the breeze
The sound of the waves
However small
The smell of the saltwater

We end up back at the starting point at the same time.
Her with a pocket full of shells and seaglass.
Me with 300 photographs

We end up with a deeper connection
With each other
With our island

We love it here
Especially when we are together
Here

Tuesday, July 26, 2022

Meter

 

Meter


Tick Tick Tick
Goes my time
Goes my day
Not keeping track
No
Just keeping time
I can't hear that meter
That keeper of time
But I know it is there
Sometimes I blow a whole day
Eating the junk food of life
Other times are different
I grasp the whole day
Both arms
Dive in and live
Live today
With family
Hugging
With friends
Listening
Creating
What He brings to mind
Stillness
Hearing the spirit touch my heart
Those tick ticks are well spent
I remember those ones
"Be still and know I am God"
Is my meter
The one that matters
May I live today
Knowing my time is well spent
And have that meter tick tick tick
With His love

Monday, July 18, 2022

A New Day

 

A New Day


It was a struggle.
Yesterday was.
Getting up this morning was.
Is.
But I made it.
Down to the marina.
And the gift?
To see this beauty.
A new day
Beginning.
Slate is wiped clean.
Begin again.
Will today be different?
Make the most of today
This new day.
Make a difference.
Touch someone. I will.
My special family.
My grand kids especially.
Dig in and take this day with
My entirety.
Create.
Work.
Enjoy.
Be grateful.
Ohhhh be so grateful.
For this new day
That He has given me.
But mostly ...
... look and see all the beauty
He has created
I marvel in it.
And breath it in
This moment
At the beginning of a new day.

Monday, July 11, 2022

Friend

 

Friend

Walk into a room
Or a Pub
Look around and there they are
Friends
The gems of life
Being known
Sharing life with
The good times and bad
Argue with?
You bet
A friend can take it.
You know what I like best
About a friend?
I do not have to prove anything
Anytime
Just show up
And be me
Acceptance
We aren't even from the same backgrounds
Doesn't matter
You are my friend
Now lets go do life

Tuesday, July 05, 2022

Colors of Life

 

 

Colors of Life
 
Life moves fast
A pace that is many times too fast
Often my grand kids come over
To play
To explore
To adventure
These times are when life slows
We wander
We wonder
And we squint
Squint at a garden full of roses
To see if the colors change
Hey they do !
Next stop, then garden pond
To dunk our heads under the surface
To see if the colors change
Hey they do !
Next stop, the front forest
Tilt our heads way back
Looking straight up
Will a bald eagle fly by
Nope, not this time
But a squirel climbs higher in the trees
Next stop, the back meadow
Will our deer friends be back there?
Taking a nap in the tall grass
We do see a mamma deer
Baby must be close by
We crawl through the grass
On all fours
And see the colors of life
Through the eyes of my grand kids

Monday, June 27, 2022

Connected

 

Connected

What holds me down
What propels me forward
My roots do.
Which my life flourishes from.
Connected
Planted
Years ago
Generations ago back in Colorado
Oregon and Bohemia is where
Those roots gained strength
Growing with strength
Children created more branches
Reaching out into the world
Exploring and spreading
Spreading beauty
With each generation to come
Where will my branches go?
They need a foundation too
Solid roots to grow
Flourish
Connected
Stay connected to my web of life
And see what beauty blooms.
Grandchild number seven
Due any day now
And the web grows

SkyBlue

SkyBlue

Music heals the soul
He told me
SkyBlue told me
His soul needs healing
He told me
Needs healing so bad
So music is where he spends his time
Music is where he opens his heart
For the notes and lyrics
To mend parts that hurt
His refuge
When I found out his story
After a music gig one night
Images I take of SkyBlue
Now take on new meaning
I can see his passion
That passion he sinks into his electric guitar
That passion he belts out in his vocals
Is actively mending his soul
I want to capture his story
This musicians story
In an image
An image that will last
Music heals the soul. 

Reflection

 

Reflection

Reflections have always intrigued me.
It is rare when a reflection matches the subject exactly
Walking down the street who hasn't looked to the side into a store window
To see what one looks like?
Was the reflection what you thought it should be?
Me neither.
My favorite was at the county fair
The maze of mirrors
A ton of reflections
Of me
Big Tall Skinny ones
Short wide plump ones
The whole maze was full of children's laughter
Was I the only adult in there laughing too
Nope

People in my life
My past life
Have reflected to me
What my life looks like
What I look and act like
But a few of those people I should not have trusted
They reflected a "Me" that was not accurate
Not who I was

And it hurt
Hurt me

Be careful who you trust to reflect who you are
Truly are.
For you are fearfully and wonderfully made.

The Edge

 

The Edge

Wonder brings me to the edge
The divide
From one world to another
From sand to the ocean
What is out there
Way in the distance
Deep beneath the dark blue waters
I look over my shoulder
Where I came from
In my past
But my journey is ahead of me
Out there
Past the edge
One foot dips into the chilly water
As my journey this day continues
Beyond the edge

Monday, June 13, 2022

Joy of Music

 


Going to a music show tonight
Rock and Roll will play
The musician makes his Breedlove acoustic guitar sound like a creek high in the Cascades
A wonderful singer songwriter
His lyrics are moving
And then comes that promised rock and roll
Making that Fender Stratocaster scream like an American Muscle Car
The energy is contagious
As if he is the guide on a rafting trip down the River of No Return
Exhilaration is what I felt 

Next song is different
A groove like no other that evening
And then this expression spread all over his face
Joy
All night he had been entertaining us
But this song joy covered him
Something about this song
Playing his song
Brought out joy in him 

I caught that image with my telephoto
Captured and bottled up
In a photograph I call
Joy of Music
The music continues

Monday, June 06, 2022

Quiet Waters

 Quiet Waters, by Dennis Browne

There are days in my life
Where the stress
The frustration
Build up to such a point
I just need tranquility

Come to me, he says
I am all about calm
I am all about quiet
Peace
Paddle beside me
Next to fresh beaches
Driftwood placed like sculptures
Feel the stress leave you
As you paddle next to me
Listen to the water
Dripping from your paddle
Feel the breeze
In your face
As time stops
As you paddle next to me

Look to the left and you might see
A dall porpoise perhaps, maybe a curious seal
Feel refreshed yet?
Keep paddling
Nothing to fear out here
These waters
Were prepared for you
Come revitalize
Come paddle beside me
On my quiet waters
You will be in need of nothing
Only what is beside you
On these quiet waters
As you paddle next to me

by Dennis Browne
https://dennisbrowne.smugmug.com/

Music Heals the Soul

 Music Heals the Soul, by Dennis Browne



Music heals the soul
He told me
SkyBlue told me
His soul needs healing
He told me
Needs healing so bad
So music is where he spends his time
Music is where he opens his heart
For the notes and lyrics
To mend parts that hurt
His refuge
When I found out his story
After a music gig one night
Images I take of SkyBlue
Now take on new meaning
I can see his passion
That passion he sinks into his electric guitar
That passion he belts out in his vocals
Is actively mending his soul
I want to capture his story
This musicians story
In an image
An image that will last
Music heals the soul.

Sunday, April 17, 2022

The Beauty of Water

The Beauty of Water, by Dennis Browne

Walk with me
Won't you?
Get close
To the wonders of the world
Look closely
Frozen in time
Fluid
Yet solid
That beauty of water
So soft
Yet so powerful
Time stops
Beauty then presents
Itself
Look closely
The world will present its wonders
Its beauty
Its power
Its gentleness
Feel the chill?
This what I see
On my beach walks
Come walk with me

Thursday, September 03, 2020

Be Strong and Courageous

 Be Strong and Courageous

By Dennis Browne

 

Has life thrown you a curveball?

Just recently?

Maybe you have been knocked down for years

Longer than you can remember?

Maybe your past has unbearable pain

Trauma that keeps you up at night.

Yet you have pushed forward.

Just a bit, maybe.

Right now you are in the midst of some kind of healing

You see a glimmer of hope

Have occasional glimpses of what being whole looks like

What being whole feels like

Hope has blossomed

Be strong and courageous to keep up the fight

I believe you and me are indeed in a battle

A battle to heal

A battle to be whole

But some in the world do not want that to happen

Sceptics

Whether it be the fast paced culture we live in

Or a past abuser who still has influence

Even if just in our mind

The quiet voice back there someplace

Reminding you of how much of a misfit you are

That you will never amount to much

That you are not worthy

This is the battle we fight to overcome

That quiet voice is a liar

Be strong and courageous

Don’t give up

Keep pushing on

Yes, there is pain

Fear, too

Don’t stop pushing forward

You are worthy

Your dreams you have inside …

Those dreams are worth it

All the hard work you have done up to this point

Your work is paying off

Be strong and courageous to the end

The finish line, when your life is out of that shadow

In full view of the sunshine of life you were meant to have

Blossoming with hope

 

Life might have pushed you up against the wall

Fight back

Duck and dodge the jabs that come your way

Don’t throw in the towel

You are not finished yet

Whether you have taken one step towards healing

Or a thousand steps

Keep your eyes on the goal of healing

Don’t give up

Be strong and courageous

You still have fight inside of you

You still have courage inside of you

 

Does fear paralyze you?

Your body is overcome by shivers

Suffer a setback?

Give yourself grace

Give yourself a break

Give yourself space and calm

Regroup

Let warmth come back to your body

But hold on

Hold onto that hope

Be strong and Courageous

And hold on

Don’t give up

Strength will come back

 

Your friends will not leave you

Hold onto them

Until your strength comes back

Feel alone?

Call on those who support you

Don’t fear

They will hold your hand

They will hold you up when you can’t

 

Be strong and courageous

You are just realizing your full potential

I believe you were designed to soar with eagles

Don’t give up

On your family

On your dreams

On you

Endure

Fight

Press forward

A good work has begun within you

Do not be weary

Finish strong

Rejoice in being healed

Rejoice in the healing of today

Be strong and courageous

 

Dennis Browne

DennisBrowne@gmail.com

FB: @dennis.browne.14

IG: @debrowne

 

Tuesday, May 05, 2020

Coach


(from my book "A Treasure Chest of Daddy's Adventure Stories" @1997)


Coach 

Baseball fever! Catch it! I love this good old American past time. Nothing better than playing “work up” baseball down at “Zimmer Field,” our neighborhood ball field. Every summer evening Grandma and Grandpa Browne knew where they could find Uncle Paul and Uncle Mike and I. Was I any good at baseball? Oh, I don’t know. I didn’t worry much about being better than the other guys. It was just about playing a little hard ball, hitting a few homers and sliding into home, and keeping the ball from getting lost in the weeds. To quote Roberto Clemente’, “Baseball was very, very good to me” ... at Zimmer field. Organized baseball, however, was a completely different story.



It was the summer of 1970 when a Little League team that I was on endured the toughest season in the history of the Browne family. It came to be known as "The Drought.” It was hot that summer of 1970 - it was so hot that a hot dog didn’t even have to be on the bar-b-que to roast.  Unfortunately, my team wasn’t hot at all. In fact, we were so ice cold that you were in danger of catching frost bite if you watched our team for more than three innings. We were long on balls and short on hits. The Orangemen of “Coast-to-Coast” was our team name, and Grandpa was the “Coach”. It was a team of twelve fourth and fifth graders who wanted nothing more than to win a game, just one. To end the ninth inning with a victory. To enjoy that victory ice cream cone. Just once.  To experience the thrill of victory rather than the agony of defeat. That’s all we wanted, nothing more. Our lineup had Billy Anderson hanging out in right field, Eddie Morgan plugging up center field, Uncle Paul hanging around second base, Brent Bjorn shoring up third base, me getting line drives hit right at me at shortstop and Randy Parr throwing heat from the mound (the ball was hot, his speed was not). What a crew. Our coach saw the potential in each one of us from day one of spring training. We came ready to play, gave 110 percent, gave it our all and played to win - but to no avail.  Night after night we walked off that cold, hard turf, drained, spent, with nothing left to give. Our record didn’t show the sweat and the effort.  We fell short time and time again. There just wasn’t enough innings in a game. After shaking off the loss, we gathered the courage and the strength to try once more, and several days later with hope in our hearts we would run onto the field - could this game be the one?! Alas, it was not to be. Coast-to-Coast ended the season zero wins, thirteen losses! Baseball was not very good to the players of Coast-to-Coast. Sports is not always fair.



Even though the big “Oh fer” has a certain sting to it, I really enjoyed that summer. That season taught me more about sports than any summer ever since. Even as a fifth grader I learned what it was to stick it out, to never give up.  I learned to play just for the enjoyment of the sport.  I learned it was important to always encourage my teammates, to stay positive, work hard and keep improving.  Yep, all these things were taught to me by Grandpa, the Coach. You could never tell what our record was by watching Grandpa. He gave out more “atta boys” than any coach in the league. He made playing fun, even though we had not logged a victory the entire summer. He kept us focused on learning the basics and playing as a team. Sure, winning is important and fun, but let’s face it, some times the other team just happens to be better. Of course, having the other team better thirteen weeks in a row is a little discouraging. But he would always encourage us to keep our chins up, looking ahead to the next at bat, the next inning, the next game. Even the next season.



For the record, although there was one game that came down to the wire, the only lead that we actually held during the entire season was on a night when Grandma Browne was coaching! Grandpa couldn’t make it to the game until the fourth inning, so Grandma started us out. She pitched batting practice, got the ball club warmed up and ready for a big night on the baseball diamond. We played like the winners that Grandpa told us we were. After three innings we were ahead three to one. Yahoo, Coast-to-Coast takes the lead.  Could this be the one?  Would we really be walking off the field victorious? Later that night we found the answer was - NO!  When Grandpa arrived in the fourth inning to take over the helm, the other team rose to the occasion, put on their rally caps and went on to victory. Bummer!



Our only real chance of chalking up a win came against the Green Bombers from General Electric. A real tough ball club with some decent hitters. The Orangemen hung in there the entire game and going into the last inning the ball game was tied. What a game! Would this be the night? Were we going to taste victory that evening, or were we destined for the perfect “Winless” season? Only time and three more outs would tell. Our team was up to bat in the top of the inning.  We needed to squeeze out just one run to go take the lead. Unfortunately their pitcher was throwing heat that night. Our first two batters fanned out, being caught up in the excitement of the moment, their better judgment went south and they struck out swinging. With two outs I came to the plate. The game was riding on my shoulders. Could I take the pressure? Only time would tell. As the first pitch came over the plate, I held back, waiting for just the right pitch. Low and inside! Ball one! The next pitch was down the middle of the plate, a fast ball. I swung a little late and fouled it off. Strike one! I just had to make contact, don’t hit it out of the park (even that is what I wanted to do). Coach just told me to keep my chin down and wait for my pitch. The next pitch was a knuckle ball. I swung that bat so hard and got nothing but air. Swoosh! Strike two! One more strike and the ball game and season would be over. The pressure was on. The pitcher wound up and pitched a big fat fast ball down the middle, just my pitch. I swung hard and connected, hitting a line drive right past the short stop. I sprinted around first base and headed in to second base, sliding in for a double. But wait! The throw to second base sailed high, past the second baseman. I popped up and dashed to third base. The third base coach told me to SLIDE, SLIDE, SLIDE! OK, OK, OK … I slid! Safe! A triple! But wait! The throw into the third baseman was way over his head. The crowd yelled at me to head home to score, a homerun, we would win the game! Get up quick, get up, get up. But I just laid there, not moving an inch. Something was wrong. I was reeling in pain. What the crowd didn’t know was as I slide into third base, my right foot got stuck underneath me. As I slid into third base my knee popped open due to the extreme pressure … and there was a big, huge, ugly gash right on my knee. One you would never, ever want to look at. Coach … Grandpa … came running out and took care of me. The last thing I remember of that game was Grandpa carrying me in his arms to the car and taking me to the hospital. This little baseball player being carried off the field by this big “Coach”, my coach, my Dad. My season was over and I was bummed big time. But my Dad was proud of me, and I tried my hardest in that last game. I spent the night in the hospital and came home the next day with 36 stitches in my knee and a cast around my leg. The rest of the summer was spent in bed or on crutches.



“Oh, what happened back at the game?” you might be asking. Well, I was safe all right at third. In fact the throw to third base was overthrown as well. If I had not been hurt I would have easily made it to home plate for a homerun. Our team would have scored and been ahead in the game, surely win the game with momentum on our side. But with the game tied and two outs, I was replaced with a pinch runner, Billy Anderson. On the first pitch, Billy tried to steal home and was thrown out by ten feet. We lost the game. Again.


What a summer.  
 What a season.   
What a ball club.   
What a Coach. 

I never played organized baseball after that. I ended my baseball career with my biggest hit ever, being carried off the field by the best Coach ever, and coming home with a knee full of stitches.

Early Mornings


(from my book "A Treasure Chest of Daddy's Adventure Stories" @1997)
Early Mornings

I love my Tyler Daves Browne. That little boy is quite a character. There is nothing he does not love about life, nothing … except for most kinds of vegetables and fruits and other healthy foods. But hey, that’s all right in the bigger scope of things. Tyler’s love for his family is what really takes my breath away. Ever since he was a little baby boy he has loved dearly his Mommy and big sister (… and me too!). Then along came his little sister, Rissa Roo. Tyler is so sweet to her. Getting down on her level and playing with her. Oh sure, there are squabbles but they always end in “I’m sorry for -----“, “Will you forgive me?”.


Tyler gets every bit out of life he can squeeze, and he squeezes pretty hard. He loves to learn. I found him at 10:00 at night one July evening in at his desk in his room. With just his lamp on he was hunching over a pad of paper, pencil in hand.  With a stack full of pennies this kid was practicing his arithmetic. I asked him what he was doing. “I want to be the best at math in my first grade class next year”, he calmly replied. The summer was not even two weeks old and this kid was hitting the books. He looked like a college senior crashing for finals in the wee hours of the morning.



Tyler is always full speed ahead. His gear box has no reverse, or neutral for that matter. Now don’t misunderstand me, he can slow down. But his slow down is intentional, either to watch a movie or draw or play in the sand box. Tyler is always doing something, he never gets bored. I really admire that in Tyler because he just enjoys living so much. He is always up for someone to join him in his ventures too. “Sure Dad, you can help me build a tower!” “Sure Dad, I’ll go ride bikes with you!” “Sure Dad, you can help me with a science experiment!” It was always “Sure, ……”. Joining-in gave me a great way to get inside Tyler’s world and get to know him really, really well. It seems the more things that we do together, the smoother things go between us. I’m so glad to have him as a son. A relationship between a father and his son is unique … and my son is unique. In reflection, I think I learn more and more about my Heavenly Father by being a Daddy to Tyler, Caitlin and Rissa.



I was given a special surprise a bit ago that I will never forget. You see, I get up pretty early for work, like 4:30 in the morning.  Early. Most of the year it is dark and quiet that early in the morning. The house is still asleep. At most I might see a hungry cat make their way downstairs. As far as people go, I have the house to myself, which can be lonely, to tell you the truth. I have a usual routine I follow. Shower, breakfast and then some quiet, prayer time and devotional reading. It gets my day off on a good foot, so to speak.



Well, one chilly morning in the winter of 1996, as I was about to sit down on the couch with a hot cup of coffee and my Bible, I hear this pitter patter coming down the stairs. With blanket in tow and rubbing his eyes, Tyler appears around the corner! “Hey, Tyler!”, I whisper. Now my first parental reaction was to give him a kiss and tell him to head back up to bed, lickity-split, and sleep for three more hours. But I didn’t. Tyler just stood there and looked at me with his sleepy eyes and smiled his “Tyler smile”. “Hi dad!” he whispered. I opened my arms and he came running towards me on the couch and I gave him a big daddy bear hug. Quickly he curled up on the couch and wrapped himself in his blanket and nuzzled his head up and under my arm. There he laid, for about forty minutes. He was awake, never falling back to sleep. His head slipped down on my lap and he grabbed my hand and motioned for me to rub his hair. He just looked up into my eyes, and smiled. I just sat there and held him close, stealing every moment I could. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t expect me to do anything except hold and comfort him. After about ten minutes of quiet stillness I realized something that was odd about what was happening. I had never held Tyler like this before. I had never been so still, so calm with him before, at least since he could walk. As a baby, sure. But never since. That is, until now.



For the duration of this time, we just hung out together and watched out the living room window as the sun rose up over the trees. It was like Tyler just showed up for a little cuddle time early in the morning. Just me and him, he didn’t have to share me with anyone at all. I was his. What Tyler didn’t realize was “he” was all mine. I didn’t have to share him with anyone or anything either, no friends, toys, school. During the rest of the day, in order to be with Tyler I have to catch up to him, go at his speed and catch some time when I can. I have to deal with going to work, coming home from work, dinner time, play time, bed time, after bed time, get back into bed time. The pace around our house is fast, which is common for a house full of kids 2, 6 and 8 years of age. So just sitting on the couch with Tyler was great, early that morning, even though it sounds kind of plain and uneventful. It was anything but.



After an hour or so I really did need to get to work. Tyler walked me to the door and waved through the living room window as I drove down the street, off to work. Back to bed he went. The next day Tyler showed up at 5:00 again and sat with me until I left. This occurred a couple more times that first week. Ever since that time, Tyler has been my morning buddy, sitting with me in the wee hours of the day. What a great way for me to start out the day. To spend some quiet time with my son, just him and me and no one else. Nothing much is said, but a lot is communicated. I hold him, he lets me hold him. He looks at me and says volumes with his quiet, gentle eyes. A couple of weeks ago, on an early Friday morning, I was reading my Bible and Tyler was right next to me. When it was time to go I started to get up. Tyler said “Don’t go Daddy. Can you read from the Psalms?” “OK Tyler, of course. How about Psalm 23?” I replied. How could I say no?! Tyler then changed his mind, “No actually, the book of John”. “OK, which is your favorite chapter?”, I said. “No, read the whole book, Dad”, Tyler answered. So I read John chapter 4. He wanted me to read to him, but was very particular. He could have chosen some other book, some other story. Tom Sawyer was right there on the coffee table. He chose God’s word. Now this kind of happening occurs often between me and my son. That’s why I think these times in the morning are God appointed times for Tyler and me, so I take them seriously.



Now he doesn’t always show up.  Sometimes I spend my early morning thirty minutes on the couch alone. Listening all the while for the pitter patter of Tyler’s little feet to come down the stairs and his sleepy eyes to appear around the corner. But he doesn’t always come down. I guess that is all the more reason why I cherish the times he does come down. To sit on the couch together. Me and my son.



I got to thinking that Friday a couple of weeks ago. John 1:12 talks about being children, being children of God.

Yet to all who receive him, to those who believe in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.  John 1:12

Do I come to God the Father in the way Tyler comes to me early in the morning, excited to be spending the wee hours of the morning just with me? Am I excited of spending time alone with my Heavenly Father? Do I look forward to being comforted by the Lord without expectation, without words being spoken, just to be in His presence? I guess I don’t when I think of the look in Tyler’s sleepy eyes turning the corner and his face beaming with a big “Tyler smile”. Tyler has commitment to those early mornings. Sure he could be snoozing in between the warm blankets, but he values being with me so much that he wants to start his day with me. Am I that way with my relationship with the Lord? How many times do I decide to sleep in an extra thirty minutes and eat breakfast in the car, going from sleep to shower to car to work in one giant sweeping motion? The answer is much too often.



It was not until I noticed how I miss it when Tyler doesn’t come down, that I realized how my Heavenly Father must feel. He made me in His image, fatherly emotions and all. He must have those same fatherly emotions as well. I learn so much by being Tyler’s Father, Tyler’s Daddy. I do value my relationship with God, and I want to start each day with Him, before the hustle of the day gets going. In the tone of John chapter one, verse twelve.



Tyler, thanks for coming down early in the morning and spending time together, for sharing quiet times and the stillness of life. As I comfort you with a big arm around your shoulder, or a hand through your hair, just know that there is a bigger arm around both of our shoulders, the Lord’s arm comforting both of us as we spend those wee hours of the morning with the Creator of the morning. I love you, Tyler. I love you, Lord. Life is a great adventure when it starts with the two of you.