The Wall...
When the lights went on and
The Flouder prevailed we fled.
Sure...the bench seat of the Chevy was twisting in the wind in the Euclayptus tree (everyone had clear sinuses).
Wett and I had been the first off the wall. Stanley and Malone merely tumbled before
The Flounder was upon them (did I mention that his eyes were on TOP of his head?).
Stanley was in the creek...the waters scrabbling over his legs in the darkness while Malone hid under some rough brush (it was significant brush to be sure). Later, Malone would admit that George was so close that he could "smell him".
But
The Flounder was not able to detect either of them and so they escaped 30 minutes after Wettstein and I had.
Well we had had a great time. The seat in the tree...the flight from the estate...all without Mitchell's knowledge... Escaping
The Flounder....well you get it...
Only later did I realize that Mrs. Mitchell would some day become privy to these happenings and that for the next 30 years she would always look at me with suspicion.
We hit the Capri like teens and Wettstein was bouncing off the top of his car the whole way back. It was like being in a small car with...well a bear (thusly named) to Roundtree laughung his ass off.
I was more subdued as I felt certain the night was not over and doom was in the air.
At near dawn, Stanley and Malone showed up (see picture). Stanley was wet and shaking. Malone was unplussed. Wett and I had had coffee. We had a neighbor take a picture. I had changed into my Saint costume.
Well we knew they were coming.
Of course...NOTE... none of the other three knew they were next.
So we sent out up Ygnasio way at 6 a.m.
We went West ...Malone in Grandpa (an old thing), Wett in the Capri and me in "The Brick".
Coming East on Ygnasio was the Mitchell clan...in a Landrover.
They passed Grandpa and the Capri without notice...but went buggied-eyed when the Brick went by.
Thus the hunt in Walnut Creek.
Part 3...this is the fun part
You know what is disgusting? The guy...sans the Robert Plant hairdo...looks just the same. Serious. He looks 25...it's disgusting. I, on the other hand look a healthy 45 on a good day. On a bad day I look like Nick Nolte in a lineup.I'm still taller than him.Okay, so back to the story (why do I feel like Peter Falk?)
I had the key..and the crew and the timing and the tools. The simple plan was to extract the bench seat and place it higher to God.
We laid seige to the Chevy with abandon. The bench seat was extracted and roped and hoisted into the big fir tree within 4 minutes. It was beautiful. It was performed with near Prussian efficieny, which was remarkable since we had a company of three mutts with Anglo names and the largest Jew you have ever seen.
Then The lights came on and it all went nuts. It was a pure thirty foot drop off the retaining wall to God knows what was below. Wettstein and I did not hesitiate because we had heard Mrs. Mitchell (who weighs about 79 pounds and is about the sweetest woman you will ever meet) scream at 3 a.m. "Gettim" George!!!"
The Flounder.
Who keeps a dog so neanderthal that it has both of it's eyes on the TOP of it's head?Wett and I flung ourselves headlong off the retaining wall. By some miracle niether of us was killed or even injured. In fact, in an incident unlike any since (where I am always injured or at least humiliated) we both made it across the creeks and onto the backroad to safety and his Capri.
Stanley and Malone did not fair so well.
(By the way , this is my New Year's gift to you. You cannot make this stuff up. It all happened and we are not done yet).
The Stories...Part 2
The Culprits..part 1.This picture was taken at around 6 a.m. notice that Stanley's pants (far right) are still wet.
To the left is Malone, then Pope Kodiak (Wettstein). Stanley is just soggy. I look like...well beutiful. I wish someone had told me then. I would have scored.
Okay...so last I left off the only really story was the group of us creeping up Mitchell's driveway at 3 a.m. You had to do this because the ass stays up all hours. (My revenge to be posted later).
His lights went out at around 2:30 a.m. We waited. I turned to look behind me. Remember I am wearing black pants, a black turtleneck, and a black cap (I changed later into the white outfit). The idiots behind me are dressed the same. One looks like Magnum P.I., the next looks like Cannon, the last one looks like a box boy at Safeway. Not good. Worse, I am their leader. Still they all deserve this because they "got" me.
My plan?
Well remember MDOED (Mac's Doctrine of Emotional Duress).
Months earlier, when Mitch had stayed over at my apartment and stayed up till 3 a.m. I stole his key at 7 am and had a copy made while he slept (I did not do my usual torture of him at 7 a.m....I had bigger fish to fry).
No, in fact, I put down my copy of Barth's commentary of Romans at 7 a.m. and took his key and had a duplicate made at the Park and Shop strip mall before he woke up at Noon.
I did some shopping, bought some used books and made it back for breakfast while he snored (he snores something awful). Then wehen he woke up I made the usual jokes as if I was not about to destroy him.
He never missed his key...till four months later at 3 a.m.
And that is where Geroge (
The Flounder) came in.
I had taken everything into account and my plan was fool-proof. I even had the ratchet (not metric...it was a Chevy) settings locked and loaded.
Then it all went South...literally.
The Stories...part one
The Flounder.At first glance this dog looks like a great pet. He looks healthy and happy and affable.
None of these things were true in 1977. This dog would just as soon rip out your throat as ask for a treat.
Whoever took this picture had a lucky minute. Tell it otherwise to my friend Malone when he was hiding at 3 am in the brush and being hunted by this beast on that fate-filled night.. Or tell it to Stanley who was half in the creek below the 30 foot retaining wall at just that moment going into hypothermia.
This dog, named "George" was a warmonger and we called him "The Flounder" because what dog that you know has both eyes on the top of it's head. C'mon!
It's a bad omen. It's like meeting a prehistoric dog, or at least one who existed before redaction editors or the authors of the JEDP theory.
You see we were all young theologians..so we talked that way unless it was 3 a.m. and we came dressed in black pants, turtlenecks and caps looking to do mischief.
To give you some context. Months earlier I had been attacked...savagely. My beloved 62 VW Van ("The Brick") had been carted down the street and filled with newspaper and replaced in my driveway.
This deed was done on my birthday and by a host of very evil protestant theologians and a cross-dresser who were all good personal friends.
Being a man who understood the grace of God I immediately started plotting my revenge. I discovered, through cross-examination...just who the four culprits were and I set about making a plan to destroy each of them.
Okay, okay...destroy is too strong a term. The actual need was to create as much emotional duress as possible with the least amount of physical damage to their property. That took imagination. In fact,
Mac's Doctrine of Emotional Mayhem was actually born that morning as I unpacked 800 pounds of newspaper from my van (I had plenty of time to think).
Here was my plan. I would saddle up to each Perp and ask for their help in undoing the others with the notion that they had been cleared of any suspicion. In their subtle glee in being trusted with such a task they would throw in fully never suspecting that they were next.
Remember...we were in our 20's...so this is not exactly the Godfather.
So Mitchell was first. He is, after all, my best friend.
The end...for now...
I wrote this poem when Adam was 5. It is instructive and appropriate at this time to reprint.
My only notes are that when it comes to "the apple" it really is none of their (kids) damned mess. It is adults who make such messes and bear the burden of them (eventually). I hope better for my kids and knowing them as I do I feel they will be fine.
I met with my good friend and pastor today. He worries about my becoming embittered and he also has this crazy notion that faith, love and hope really matter in a world dominated by fear, violence and the abuse of power.
I cannot say that I disagree with him. In fact, he has encouraged me to walk away for a season and I am going to do so. He does not disagree about the facts pertaining to these issues...he simply is urging wisdom which moves beyond the facts.
My roomate agrees with this and I trust her counsel as well. So I leave you with this poem written for my beloved Son Adam when he was 5. He has grown into these words far beyond what I might have hoped, as have all my sons and what I have wanted.
The Lunchbox....
The house stories down to nothing
Only the chores remain
The lingering obligations left open like
The empty lunchbox.
With a snap
The clasp is undone
Spilling out the remains
Of our separate days
Cracker bits and cellophane
A darkened rind
The reddened stain
Around the thermos rim
Empty
Yet still
Begging for tommorow.
Comes the parental sigh
Then breath again
A new breath
And the box is rinsed out
With a mild soapy water
And tamped-down ready
For tommorow.
Then comes the fun,
The kind all too easy to miss:
The dragging smear of chunky buttered nuts
Across the 12 grain bread
The cheap gelatinous
Grape jelly
Dropped down thick
Like bulbous concord lakes dropped down
Onto spongy wheatfields that
Only the knify wind
Can turn to glaze.
And the long stick of string cheese
Like a treasure
A full comfort stapled to your ribs.
But after all
You'll still be hungry
So you have that apple.
Adults make so much of the apple
Sometimes dear one
An apple is just
The best blessed fruit God ever invented
And no more.
Don't let anyone tell you
The apple's to blame for any of
Their damned mess.
The apple is the best
Don't forget that.
Then every day's box
Brings your "special deal"
And the deal comes from us
Us who love you
And this last little item
Is personal
So your Mom would never give you
The same thing I would
It's a subjective thing
And you're the
Subject of
Each special deal with you.
So, I'd like my special deals
In the lunchbox
Most everyday
I know what ya need
But your mom's got to get
Her two mitts in too
So you gotta take what ya get
With the special deal.
As for me
I'd give you a dark
Hershey bar
One of those flat bricked ones
Cut in half
Each day.
You gotta admit
There's something pure about
That bar.
And only so much you can
Take in each day.
So tommorow
When you open the lunchbox
And you make your way through
The peanut-jelly gorge
And strip down the cheese
And crimp around your apple
Don't forget that
We are there with you
Your mom and I
We're in the bread
We're in the grape
And we smiled for you
As we picked out the jars
And singled out the cheeses
And we delight as your sweet mouth
Hits that first frail
Panel of chocolate.
Your lunchbox.
I apologize ahead of time...
With Faerie tales and myths we want a clean and sure ending found in happiness and justice. This is not how reality works.
No.
On the day after a despairing Christmas you wake up at 4 a.m. and the Holy Spirit within you whispers not "good morning...aren't you a good lad" but rather an obscure passage from the Word. That, and you forgot your laundry downstairs.
He starts out with the best part "the fellowship of His sufferings," and the only reason you feel sure this is the Spirit is because no one else has the audacity to say or mention such things at 4 a.m. after a day of despair. It's a chord the Spirit has played often and in timely fashion. It's one that is both sweet relief and also elicits immediate groaning. But it cannot be denied. "the fellowship of His sufferings." And it has the swiftness and certainty of all or any news that you get out of the blue at 4 a.m. The phone rings, it's your father. "Your uncle is dead, call me back at a decent hour." That's it.
But this obscure verse about the "fellowship of His sufferings" must be unpacked. And it is quite disconcerting (I warn you ahead of time...you will not hear any of this Paul nonsense at churches named
SaddleBridge or
RiverGorge or
WillowTreats, etc...).
No. Paul is in prison in Rome. Well at least house arrest...at any rate, it's not fun but he seems relatively unaffected because he has the decided advantage of being unaffected. He simply does not care the way you or I do. Paul is weird.
So he writes to this young
gangly church in
Philippi the following (this mind you after the
Kenosis passage in chapter 2):
"that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death; in order that I may attain to the resurrection from the dead..."
Well that's just about enough for anyone...I mean all that comes before is even deeper, as is what comes after. If this guy had been a boxer he would have been Cassius Clay in his prime.
Fortunate for me it was only the phrase "fellowship of His sufferings" at 4 a.m....which gives meaning in two simple ways: 1) the sufferings are real; 2) you have fellowship with Christ within them no matter how wuss-
ified they are.
And our sufferings are wuss-
ified. I suffered horribly yesterday watching movies with my
roomate on the couch, petting the dog, cooking good food and talking with friends on the phone. Sure I had massive anxiety...but that is in my head dammit.
Terrible, terrible suffering.
Yet Christ would say to me (and does) "welcome to the fellowship". For beneath our layers of activities there is a deep sadness and an abrupt turn within and a
lostness that wishes only to be found. And thus when the Spirit comes at 4 am and speaks of a fellowship that is real you listen because it is
gutteral and true and their is no falseness anywhere near it because it is too clean.
It is too clean. Too real. Who else calls at 4 a.m.?Now, like any good American, I am not too much into the "sufferings" part. It's like an aisle at the grocery store I never want to go down. Or, eh...it's like cigarettes...I proudly don't smoke them so who needs them?
But still I find myself drawing on one all the time, or I wake up at the store and I'm in the health food aisle and nothing looks like food.
But I digress.
The sufferings are not for no purpose, which is what differentiates them from an IRS audit or a
detailed cavity search at the Oakland airport.
No. What is being said is clearly insane, and I'll prove it. Take this... "That I may know Him." is the first thing that sticks out.
Imagine going to SaddleBrooks or OrangeBoughs Church and the first thing they say is "welcome to the sufferings!". Then after the praise songs, small theatrical thingy and the sermon on possibilities you are ushered (literally...they have 500 ushers not for no reason) you get lattes and croissants, followed by the beatings.
Well that just is not going to work.
I mean when Paul talked about the "fellowship of His sufferings" he surely meant you having to sit through a badly written sermon...or maybe your Americano was cold, or your kids were forced to deal with an 8 to 1 class ratio.
Now I am sermionizing. Sorry.
"That I may Know Him".
This is what makes the suffering worthwhile. Why the suffering to the knowing? I have not much idea...but it seems to work for God. Just think about it...think of all those people you know you crush others underfoot and feel no suffering at all. Do they know God? Naw...
Not a one. You wanna meet God? Go meet a woman who has lost everything and is hanging by a thread. Ask her about God and you will get a straight answer. Ask a patient dying of cancer. Ask a man at the scene of an accident. Slump down next to someone at a bus station and ask them who God is. They will tell you.
It's on your mind...and if it is not it is because you are insulated.
I wake up cold and I hear "the fellowship of His sufferings" and the saddest thing about that is every religious person I know will pity me for this, or shake their head...and I am simply on the doorstep of Knowing Him.
Sweet Jesus...Just to Know you and your fellowship.
.
HTTP Error 404
I like to place some art with each article so I did a quick search for "Incarnation" on the Internet and found a host of images. In each case though, when I went to retreive the image I got a 404 error...which means there is nothing there, just a trace that it once was.
This seems a fitting metaphor for this Christmas morning. I believe in the incarnation but their are only traces of it being real.
I woke up in despair and alone. There is really no good reason for the latter, but seems plenty for the former.
Why despair? Well, you could point to many things, including my depressive nature, but the simple reason is I just do not see the point and I am tired of trying to see the point or make a piont that everyone (Christian or otherwise) seems to hate or deny.
No one takes faith seriously anymore..okay, okay...not no one. I can name at least five people who take faith and who take Jesus seriously...and there are a few on the cusp, but most of them are too busy being beaten on a daily basis...but it's an incognito beating.
There is no justice. If there were George Bush would not be in power and a couple dozen fairly innocent folk would not die today so he and his friends can get rich and pursue an insane agenda.
But my despair is closer in as you might imagine.
When I was a kid I loved Christmas even when my dad would buy me the thing that was kinda like the thing I actually wanted only it was 60 percent less. I wanted a puffy jacket in blue and would get a green fiber-fill. It was still Christmas. And twice I got up and I got exactly what I wanted (hold that thought by the way). But there was good food and usually even my sister and I got along which only happened a dozen times till we were in our 30s.
It was Christmas eve last night, and I have already been denied my kids or even delivering their gifts simply because I don't drink, I provide them their own room, am willing to do all the driving but apparently the real issue is my simple existence. That seems to be the rub when you get right down to it.
Apparently, If I simply did not exist then I could see them, or at least have a phone call returned on Christmas Eve. It would definitely cut down on the threats of restaining orders, which are getting more frequent.
When you cease to exist it is very hard to be served.
Now I am bordering on farce good reader, but I assure you, take away a few humorous remarks and it is all true. Humor is one of a few saving graces for those of us without a trust fund. You cannot pay your bills, but you can make a wisecrack on the way out that may sustain you for weeks.
Anyway, no one takes Christianity serious anymore unless they are making a movie. That much is evident to me. In fact, if it were not for my friends Rod and Martha (and also Scott and Laura) I might finally succumb to the notion that it is all nonsense and I have simply been missing out on a a really good time.
My evidence? Christians.
None of them (except the aforementioned) in general take it seriously at all. Okay, I know this girl who does, but she is young and has yet to receive the beatings.
When I woke up I thought about the unretruned phone calls and that my kids are being force-fed affluent Christianity with no discipleship involved...no suffering, no cost. Their mother and LIBF are both Christians leaders with money, power and they can have all the sex they want without marriage because God thinks they are special. They don't even have to cook dinner on Christmas eve because they can go to an expensive sushi restaurant in the City.
It sounds like I am bitter. I''ts possible it is just the wasabi.
Well you can see where that is going. And I have to admit, when I was a kid if my mother had taken me to a fancy restaurant with her boyfriend on Christmas Eve I would have really liked it.
But I still would have called my father back.
I left five messages yesterday. Each over an hour apart, and each in response to them calling me at 11:30 when I was at Church.
The last time I called when I knew Camille was there (after 3 days of unreturned messages) I was threatened with a restraining order). So now I space them by an hour or so, so I will get fewer threats. I'm sure a judge somewhere thinks that a returned phone call to a father is worth restraint.
The fact is, now that they have taken everything else 9like actually seeing my kids) my calls to my kids are utterly ignored.
The fear is, of course, that I might simply speak the truth. Which is true. It's very possible I will say to my children that they cannot see me because their mother has so decided.
True or untrue?
She claims I should not speak anything adult to them...this while LIBF tries to show Adam what it's like to be a real man (violence) and L talks to my 9 year old daughter about my "'having a disease".
Well that is just another layer of hypocrisy, but let's say I do have a disease. Why do they go apeshit and attack whenever I am in remission from this disease (I am not yet sure it is a disease but they will play it six ways from Sunday if it suits their purpose)?
And where is their faith, hope and love? Christianity is supposed to be an offer of redemption, grace and forgiveness; not power and accusation and hypocrisy. And the worst thing is the kids. Jesus, in a rare harsh moment, suggested that those who hinder kids would be better off tying themselves to a large stone and casting it (and them) into Lake Tahoe (current context).
No, as I survey the landscape I see that most of Christianity in the West is dead. It's alive in Asia, Africa...pretty much anywhere where the veneer of religion is not tolerable. But here it is dead. No one loses their life to find it here. No one loves their neighbor as themself (unless they are pagan). No one studies the texts unless it's to sell a book on what "it really means". Christian leaders persecute other, live together..."cats living with dogs..." its nuts.
Do I seem down?Well I am.
Now there are two people who give me hope and I will tell you why.
One is Martha. She sent me an email Christmas card. It said (ironically) that I had given her hope this last year. The reality is probably otherwise. Martha prays for me every day even though she has never met me face to face. She does this because she believes. She has the crazy idea that when she sits in Massachusetts and prays for me, that God listens and it actually matters.
The crazy fact is, it does.
In fact, that is a lot more sane to me that the mean utter bullshit I have to live with week in and week out just trying to love and see my kids, and have it denied by this notworthy "Christians" who do not live out their faith at all. Jesus is like their life insurance agent who they see once a year. Make no mistake. He is not in charge in any way.
Martha, like all true disciples, doubts herself too much...but is tender-hearted because of it.
Today it's her turn to give me hope.
Rod is the other one.
He makes me feel faith and truth and love are all possible in real terms.
(Laughing)...this guy is so grounded in incarnational love that he even offered (out of his own pocket) to pay for a hotel room for me in Alameda when it looked like I had to do all the driving for two days. "Just stay over and be with your kids...on me".
Well, we all know that is not going to happen for whatever excuse they can concoct. But the offer was there and a gracious one.
Maybe that is the real point. The offer of Christ's love and grace is always there...but we have to accept it. God will not force L & LIBF to have my kids call or allow them to visit even though they know well that they are safe and loved.
If their version of Christianity is the deal, I do not want it, nor would I suggest it to anyone.
Am I beitter? Yes. I believe I finally am. And it is a long road to get me so for anyone that knows me. I am a lover by nature. I will not allow the bitterness to linger. I will let it instruct me for a short time so I am not so naive.
God was neither naive, nor bitter, not decluded about what becoming flesh would mean. If we talked about that more in the church we might all see things differently. Until then, Christmas pagents at 5, sushi at 9 and sex at 11, all with the blessings of God.
Why Google is like my Ex
Every day since we received the new GOOGLE Blogger thing its the same story. No memory, no password verification. I have to daily ask for a new password now that I have the new Google Blogger (I knew it was a mistake to hit "upgrade"). The password I type in to sign in to add this Blog is the same every day. Every day it says it is invalid. Every day I have it send me a reset and I type in the very same password. It let's me in...this one time. Tomorrow it will say "Who the frill are you?"
So it goes.
The comparison is rather comic. I am the father of two children and I call or try to communicate and every day I get the same "invalid password" message...even though I am the father.
This message comes in many forms. Like:
- Your words mean nothing even though I make my living as a book editor
- I am erasing your emails and all in the future (except this one)
- Don't call your daughter when she is here
- This conversation is over unless I want to talk
So I do the same thing I do with Google. I just reset the password every day and keep plodding along.
Bad Faith Goes Farther South
So the latest is that I will not see the kids at all throughout Christmas or in the forseeable future. The action is reckless and meant to be punative. And in the midst I have been regularly assailed and threatened in many ways...none of which I entertain with any seriousness because it is simple intimidation.
Just to be clear, when LIBF began to make serious statements about my long-term relationships with my older sons I did contact them to make extra sure that everything was (as it always has been) on the table and I was not missing anything. Both assured me that words had been placed in their mouths and the oldest said "leave me out of this" which I find a very sane response.
Unfortunately, for me, I cannot stay out of it. I do not get to parent my nine year old daughter again. You have one shot and they are doing their best to make that impossible.
The top three most despicable quotes of the week are as follows. Please remember I did not write these or make them up.1)
"If you continue to place multiple calls to the house in any given hour, I will consider that harassment and get a restraining order. " We have a long standing agreement that the kids always have access via phone. After three days of unreturned calls I called when I knew Camille would be available for a short conversation. Asking to talk with my daughter about her day has nothing to do with L and her life.
Once again, imagine the reverse. What would you say if I restricted Camille's free access to her mother via the phone. That would be unhealthy in my view, and place her in a bad position. I would never do that.
2)
"If what I see with Sean and Thomas is any indication of the future then we know where this will end up, and that has nothing to do with me or L, they have made their decisions about how much they want you in their lives as adults. I hope you care enough about Adam and Camille to go down a different path." The most subtle part of slander is inneundo. The fact is I am quite happy with my relationship with both sons. I only wish I saw them more, but they are very busy and I have to respect their schedule. Both have written me back with distaste at being used as ammunition by LIBF.
The path I have chosen with Adam and Camille is to be open, loving and available on all levels. The only thing hampering the relationship (they cannot destroy it as much as they wish to) is their rigid insistance on controlling the natural and healthy relationship they have with their father.
Once again, I have to point out there never has been an incident here in any way. Meanwhile there have been several on the other end. Kids locked out, grabbed and shaken, left alone with no supervision. None of those things has ever happened here or would.
Fact.
3)
"we do the work of parenting 24/7 and it is our schedule that counts not yours." This is my personal favorite as it is so unabashedly arrogant.
The reason they do 24/7 is because they insist on it. I would gladly take the kids two to three days a week. It would be in their best interest to do so.
That's our top three for the week. I feel certain next week will be worse. Keep your sense of humor.
*******
Bad Faith (yes, I did lead with that).
I wrote earlier this week about a moral dilemma I am facing. I think a few of you think this is a game to me of sorts. My pastor thinks that in some way it is my way of having some control in an insane situation. I think he is probably correct. If he wasn't such a aweetheart I could just punch him. I do not see it as a game..I am simply not accepting the role of doormat.
The fact remains that I walk and talk and disclose myself to Rod because I trust him and he is a man who has the aroma of Jesus about him. He subtely disarms me because his sole concern is Gospel and he is steeped in it. He talks from within a world that I do understand and it is very real...just not normal faire.
Thus I often check my weapons at the door when we meet. Sometimes I forget to pick them up on my way home.
This is no small gift to me. In fact, I honestly cannot imagine going through all of this the last four months without his constant counsel.
Which brings us back to the notion of Bad Faith. Sartre coined the term and it has been used in various contexts...but it always is a ruse at the core...a justification in the middle and a projection in the end.
By it men and women justify all manner of injustice and always say the same thing..."My hands are tied..I can do no other thing". Which is simply untrue. It is a bold-faced lie. We have an uncanny and God-given freedom that enables us to choose love and free action at any time. To hide behind any system is just Bad Faith.
Rod does not say this. In fact, he challenges me to use my freedom as gift and to see myself as an image-bearer in some small way, of God. Yikes!
I'm pretty sure that my reflective qualities are pretty muddied...but I cannot deny the calling which is there.
Rod is, for me, an example of real faith, not bad faith. I'm pretty sure it costs him a lot...I am just as sure that it is worth it for the rest of us.
Well I brought up an issue with him two months back. I was (and still am) disturbed by the fact that these two Christian Leaders (LIBF and L) are shacking up. My best friend of 30 years (a Presbyterian minmister) says it is a no-brainer and I should confront the situation with the PCUSA hierarchy.
Now before I go farther let me make it clear that I am not moralizing. I have lived with a woman I was not married to on a couple of occasions. The difference was I did not place myself in a leadership position. In fact, I did the opposite.
There are far worse things than deciding to live with and have sex with your partner. Often those situations result in marriage and a long-term commitment. I have great respect for my father and his wife because they have stuck it out in marriage, but they started as just living together. It's just my dad was not an elder int he church, or a speaker or teacher.
We expect more.
Lest you think me a prig ask yourself how you would feel about your pastor or priest living with a woman instead of marrying her? What do the kids think?
Well Rod always brings things back to my actions (did I mention I could punch him?). He agreed that it was utterly inappropriate for L and LIBF to be such, and also the message that it sends to the kids. But then he asked me about my motives.
Did I really care about the integrity of the Church and leadership, or did I just want to make them feel some small amount of my own pain for their hypocrisy?
Damned good question. Which is why I have remained silent for two months. I have written the letter to Session and the senior pastor at the church L works at.
But I have not sent it.
So here is where I want you all to argue with me. It's an open question.
- Let's assume my motives will never be 100% pure.
- The old adage that two wrongs do not make a right is assumed.
- I have no right to judge or condemn, but I can question.
- The requirements for Christian leadership are specific. I do not meet them..but I am not in such a position.
- Our calling, if I understand rightly, is to Lovingkindess and Truth. Both need to go hand in hand...not easy.
- I do not have to be pragmatic.
- I should probably pass on this
- I should probably take serious issue with this.
A Fundamentalist mindset would simply rack them up. I am not a Fundamentalist. In fact, I place a high premium on human freedom and more importantly grace...even for those who choose to make themselves my enemies.
L and LIBF have chosen to make themselves my enemy. I have not reciprocated in any way. I have done nothing to them nor do I wish to. They, on the other hand have pulled out all the stops. I cannot see my kids, they have put words in my older children's mouths...they have threatened me in a wide array of ways and have been utterly disrespectful of my core role as a father.
Worse (sniff) they think their schedule is more imprtant than mine (probably true).
They have done this without evidence or incident.
Bad Faith.
*******
I really had a lot of fun this Christmas buying for my kids. It does not matter when they get to receive these gifts...they know my heart went into this and I wanted to share it with you because it does give me joy.
I bought Adam a SlugBug. A '69 Beetle with a moon roof. It's rusted, leaking gas and needs major attention. We have two years to get it into a sweet state of being. I like it because it is kind of a legacy. My dad bought an old bug when I was about Adam's agae and we ha d alot of fun working on it. So here's to you dad!
Daughter was far more difficult. Boys are so easy to buy for...daughters...yikes! I spent hours mulling it over.
She mentioned something called Pucci pups. I saw them collecting dust two weeks later. Hmnnn....
I called her and we talked. She had an idea about paper dolls. We talked more.
Daughter is an artist from the core of her being. She thinks creatively by nature. And she is always a number of years ahead. So at nine she is doing 16 year-old work.
So I found a great old wood and leather case and a scrapbook kit. Even better, a wooden box for beads and some amazing treasures at the bead store.
It reminds me of a poem I wrote for Adam when he was 5 called "The Lunchbox". I'll preprint it here in a bit...but the main think is the midfulness you bring to the gift. I was a bit in heaven at the bead store picking out little treasures for my Daughter.
Shifting Sand
I no sooner agreed to the 26th and 27th to see my kids for Christmas but I found that plans had already been laid for those days.
So, you see it was never in earnest.
A man of less fortitude would just give up. I won't. I will press every day for the sake of my kids.
L and LIBF have dominated the holidays. Adam has been farmed out to Roseville for the week. Camille is in some day-school. They will spend Xmas day with my family in Monterey. The next day...the day I was supposed to have them, has suddenly been spoken for. So it goes with L.
A constant unraveling.
TURN IT AROUND
I have the power. I regulate all my kid's actions and their schedule. When it comes to time at Christmas with their mother I first insist she must do all the work. Then I change the schedule at my bidding and whim as I see fit...even at the last minute. I control all actions and times. I decide if they will even see their mother at all.
How does that sit with you?
Kenosis Part 3
The Girl with the Boof.
It's Christmastime, and as such, my mind gravitates to the One who started all this by being born. This God/Man who gestated in a womb for nine months, and Who alone stands both as ultimate Gift and ultimate Giver.
I have been thinking a lot about this one and the issue of power. Those who feel themselves somewhat disenfranchised understand that power is central, and they don't have it.
What to do?
Into the mix go other notions. A young friend of mine recently wrote me about her own views and that she had "given up her rights". Now she meant this in the context of discipleship. It's an interesting idea, particularly for us in the West.
Well in this ongoing power-struggle over the kids the question lays begging. What about the way of Jesus?
L has t he power and is using it in all facets. In fact, if I wish to see my kids at all during Christmas I must do all the driving. Why? Because she says so and my only alternative is to not see them at all. She knows this so she says "you have to do all the driving." Is it fair? No. Does she need it to be? No.
Now in the Spring, when I show up in court with legal counsel and joint custody is restored then she will want to bargain for what she wants. She will have to because I will have my equal rights.
I feel ambiguous about this.
At any rate, some part of me wants to insist upon equality and justice; but the Kenosis part (Philippians 2) has got me in a bind. The text, written by Paul to the church at Philippi contends that not even Jesus regarded equality as something to be grasped at with God, even though he was God Himself. In fact, turning from such grasping it says he instead "emptied Himself like a common slave and was obedient even to the death".
This is an odd God we have.
Then Paul says that we should have a similar attitude in life. I assume, being as I am decidedly not God, that it applies to those I am essentially equal with...other people. So, if I am like Christ at all, my attitude should not be grasping at proving my equality, but instead choosing to serve.
Which lays us at the feet of the old "doormat" debacle. Was Jesus a doormat as example?
I mean, if I capitulate on these issues with L then she will run roughshod over me every time. She does it anyway.
Well I know what many of you will say...and you are correct. What difference does it make so long as you can see your kids two days in a row? (I have to bring them back at night because...well, you know...Camille might brush the wrong side of her teeth first at night or I might read 15 minutes of stories instead of the required 17).
Kenosis, or the idea of it ("self-emptying"), requires I simply make the drives. It's not fair or just. But it is loving.
Sparse
Me likey.
Knosis is self-emptying. Hard to do with so much stuff.
I had 3,00 volumes hardbound and like a cocoon. Also like a prison a bit.
I have about 50 books in here now. I figure I'll max out at 75.
The world is filled with a million books and 300,000 bookstores and so many authors with so little to say.
It's about Word.
My scant books are all about Word. Every one.
A Middle Eastern scholarly look at the Parables of Jesus (Bailey) ; Moffat's two vols. on Grace and Love in the New Testament; Lamott's Plan B and Hard Laughter; DeRougemont's Love Declared and Love in the Western World; Eastern Orthodox texts from early centuries: Great Lent, The Desert City, The Philokalia, etc....; another 6 volumes.
Bonhoeffer, Jewett, Lewis, as always Beuchner.
Becker and the Dalia Lama. Brueggemann.
N.T Wright and Walker Percy. How we do learn from and in the Word in all it's variations.
Word.
Yer going to the chair pal...
Mr. Anger Mismanagement lives down below us. I have written about him before. He is a Perp. He has harrassed one single woman here to the extent that she is being evicted. At 4 a.m. this morning he had the audacity and gall to come out and yell at people who are moving her stuff out (and very quietly) because of his own harassment.
As I have written elsewhere I believe in both justice and also instant karma. I hope he develops a peptic ulcer from his own hate.
I saw him yesterday for the first time. I was not sure what to do. I said nothing (always the best default). Later I heard the Word in my head...not in an unpleasant way..."bless those who curse you".
It speaks of another paradigm that does not accept things as they are. I mean, why bless someone who curses you? There has to be a reason.
Jesus is the most sane human I have ever listened to or read. So what do you make of that?
Okay..."Eradication" is too Strong...
I used the word "eradication" yesterday and thought better of it. This situation is hyperbolic by nature, so no real need to overstate things.
The real words are "diminish" and "disenfranchise", the former being the result of the latter.
When one parent successfully disenfranchises the other they have the power, but usually need the other for a whole variety of things. This was true up until a few months ago. My Ex had my support for a whole array of things, as well as encouragement. I supported her in telling the kids about big decisions, I listened to her on the phone, I watched the kids at her place one weekend, brought dinner when she and LIBF moved and even helped LIBF move his stuff out of storage.
But after moving to the Bay Area where it suddenly seemed we would live in relative two-household harmony (with her still having the power because she needs it and I do not) all this crap came out of nowhere.
Why?
I do not really know. You cannot place any logic on it, and there was not an incident that set it off (I do not think anyone is buying the "tardy bedtime ritual" anymore, if they ever did).
But the goal now seems to be disenfranchosement and diminishing as if LIBF had the biological, relational and historical chops to replace me. That's what people in 12-Step programs call "magical thinking".
The fact remains that I am a huge part of Adam and Camille's life wherever present or otherwise, and LIBF can ply them with gifts and fancy dinners out but kids still need their father.
People, as a whole, are incredibly selfish, myself included. It takes deliberate decisions to even hold this monster at bay. I admit that once Camille is 18, I have little or no use in my life for L. It would not bother me to not see her again and to simply be Zen about the 2 decades of my life I wasted on a very angry woman. In fact, it is in my best interest to do so.
Now you have to look at it from the children's point of view. If I simply capitulate they lose on all counts. My job is to not want my pound of flesh for the loads of pain and suffering this fiasco has caused.
I will open up a discussion tomorrow that I want input on. I WANT you to argue with me because I have a moral dilemma and justice is important to me. I had no qualms about reporting LIBF's actions to CPS, but there are other matters and I have been sitting with them patiently for a month or so and wish to decide one way or the other.
Try to enjoy this blessed Saturday and pray for my kids.
Life Isn't Fair
Tonight's Warrior/Houston game which the Warriors won at the buzzer (basically)Life is not fair, and it will drive you nuts if you try and make it so, or you will be tempted to compensate for the difficult and depressing aspects. Some things about life are exceptional and beautiful; other things are unjust and ugly.
My evening was either a macrocosm or a microcosm...I can never remember which is which.
As I walked down the street to meet my kids they came running and hugging, then my parents came with their good friend J and we all went out to dinner at a great Italian restaurant. Great food, nice conversation, good stories. As always, the kids were well-haved and fun. Then it was off to the game where we had amazing seats, and backstage (for lack of a better term) access thanks to J's generosity.
The game was close all the way through and it came down to the last few seconds when Baron Davis hit an amazing 3 pointer with 1.2 seconds left to win the game. The place went nuts.
Afterward, we went down, helped ourself to some nice food in the lounge, and Adam got a few autographs on his basketball, including one from Coach Nelson, and two time Olympic Gold Medalist and basketball great Chris Mullin. Cammie got to shake Chris' hand and was quite excited.
A really wonderful evening, the only sour note being when I told Adam I would buy him a new basketball to replace the one which would have autographs. "Yeah, if we ever get to play again..."
We agreed without belaboring that it sucked.
When we got back to L and LIBF's place they were supposed to be there (like an hour earlier, or at least by then, which was 10:30). This was awkward to say the least. J needed to get home and my parents were staying there in Oakland. Individually, each of them suggestied the simple solution was for me to stay and wait (as it seemed L and LIBF would be back 30-60 minutes later from their dinner in San Francisco).
Of course it was logical. I am their father and I love them and they adore me.
I had to watch my words very carefully because the kids were right there. "Not such a good idea," I said and ran the scneario through my head and how L and LIBF would come home and turn a good thing (and a gracious thing since they were late) into another rolling thunder of ugliness, attack and self-righteousness.
Look at what they have concocted from nothing in the past and imagine if they came home and I was sitting in their living room?
Why?
There is no reason. If I was so late and they had to stay and wait for me an hour I would be embarassed and grateful that they had handled it.
Now the above is simply their agenda for eradicating me from my children's lives. It was basically on accident I even found out about Camille's play last night and was happy to attend. (But we'll save that story for tomorrow, unless we do...oh by the time the resign of terror is over I may well have a book).
I hope my parents get it that they were not the least bit considered, nor was J and her schedule...it's just "expected" because they are L and LIBF. And L and LIBF have power and money. They expect to be treated otherwise because they are important people (well LIBF is an important person; L is just his girlfriend). I suspect they will also find it curious that I would be villified (and this would have been no different than any other time it has happened) for putting my kids to bed, especially since they needed to get back to J's house.
But that's there deal. I was just happy to spend the evening with them. It's hard for me to explain what L does, and, frankly, they really do not want to hear about it.
Again, life is not fair. There is no sense moaning about it. Just keep moving forward.
The two issues for me tonight were, of course, about my kids. Those issues are
hypocrisy and
humiliation.
So for those of you who have been following along, this whole mess of theirs started when my daughter called them because it was late (9:30 on a friday night) and we had not done the bedtime ritual yet that helps her feel less afraid. In response to this they came and took her late at night and she has not been allowed to spend one night here since because I supposedly cannot "take care of the kids basic needs".
So how does that line up with the very real possibility tonight that Camille was going to go to bed with only her brother in the house (it was discussed by my parents). No bedtime ritual, and no adult even present?
How does it meet the basic needs of kids when they are farmed out to all manner of different cities sometimes for 3 and 4 days at a time with neither primary parent? That is what single mom's have to do who have night jobs...not responsible parents with two adults and a large income.
But because at 9:30 one night I had not yet brushed her teeth (we had been laying down to watch a movie together) up until 3 or 4 minutes later when she came back in the room with the phone and I had to deal with an outraged L.
Who is outraged for Camille when she goes to sleep with no parent in the house? Adam implied tonight that it happens.
Who is appalled when she is farmed out for days at a time even though she still gets scared?
Hypocrisy is when it is not okay for you and I persecute you, but it's just fine for me because, it's me. I get a special dispensation. I get to leave my kids alone at home. I get to ignore the bedtime ritual. I even get to live with my boyfriend even though I am in Christian leadership where that is out of bounds.
Why?
Because it is me and not you
Tonight when Cammile went to bed before L and LIBF got home at 11:00, but probably 11:30, who did that ritual with her that L thought so crucial that she would withold her own child from a loving father?
If that makes any sense to you please explain it to me like I am six years old...no, like I am a nine-year-old girl.
*******
The sadder aspect is humiliation of the family itself. Anytime either primary parent, or any family member is diminished, the whole family is hurt. Adam hymned and hawed about whether he would even see me for Christmas. Camille had the saddest look on her face I think I have ever seen. "I hope I get to see you at Christmastime" she said glumly.
She had also made a present for me at school, but was unsure if and when I would be able to get it.
Frankly I have no confidence at ALL that I will be able to see them since they are conveniently already scheduled out weeks in advance. After long negotiations for a day meeting, that becomes a fiasco simply because L chooses to make it so.
Why?
I myself do not allow myself to be humiliated by L and LIBF. If anything I feel sad for them. Karma, or reaping what you sow is part of God's natural order. But by their attempts to humiliate and exclude me in front of my children they are damaging my children and creating loss and soul-sadness.
I will not berate either L or LIBF in front of the children. I just hear their pain and assure them they are loved by me. I will also tell them the truth when asked or when they want to talk.
What does it say that L and LIBF do not want them to talk?
Is it possible that the reason they are trying to eradicate me from my kid's lives is because I talk so well and openly with them?
Instead of exhibiting justice and humility, they are exemplying power and hypocrisy. I would ask anyone to simply look at the example of the two"bedtimes" (the night they took Camille, and tonight when they made no provision for her). There was the incident the Sunday morning after they came to get her when she was locked out of the house for 20 plus minutes.
That has never happened on my watch. In fact, one the weekends they use to come we spent the entire time together...unhindered except for maybe a very brief period to answer some emails.
- I have not sent my daughter to bed without an adult in the house (as capable as Adam is, and he is).
- I have not been unaware of her whereabouts.
- I have not threatened my kids in an overt physical way
- I have not tried to silence my kids, other than for a brief moment so I could hear myself think.
- I have not discouraged or hindered their relationship with their mother in any way.
Can L and LIBF say the same?
Children often have an even stronger sense of fairness and justice than adults do. And they watch everything. They have watched me and they are watching this.
This situation has created an excruciating moral dilemma in the hearts and minds of my children. I saw it in my daughter's face tonight. She was demoralized, and that came from the attempted humiliation of her father by her mother.
You don't need Dr. Freud really to figure this out.
She hid it a few moments later, almost as if she had to and smiled and wanted another kiss and a hug. She is coping the best she can. But she is deeply sad and there is no reason for her to be.
So tonight was very much like life is regularly. In the old days it might have made me want to anesthetize so I could skip the really twisted and ugly things that happen and that people do to each other. I have learned, and keep learning, it is better to be sad. Trust God to bring justice on His time, while also speaking out openly, yet with circumspection (I am far from perfect by anyone's standard, including my own).
Oh...and I can always write. That helps a great deal too. All comments invited as always.
I checked on the baby bird yesterday and Boo and Peanut both stayed their ground and pecked at my hand.
The baby is doing just fine.
LIkey??
Dad did this to us! Made us like Ed Grimley.My friend C recently wrote me and asked what I thought about God "liking" us.
I suppose she meant it to be light (whereas she has a serious streak like myself). But my mind goes where it will and such questions sink like hard stones into deep waters in a natural way.
Does God like me?
Having settled the looming larger question of being loved by God...this is a practical matter...a daily one.
It is important to make a clear dictinction first between people and God. People are not good at either loving or liking in a selfless way. And it is only in a selfless way that both can thrive.
There is a passage in the New Testament that says "love covers a multitude of sins". Having already dispatched the deadliest ones on the cross, one is left to believe that nominal ones are so covered in daily interaction. In this we are "little Christs" in the sense that C.S. Lewis and Merton speak. We mirror this small graciousness and reflect the glory of our Creator and Redeemer in this small way.
In fact, you do this every day in small kindesses that are unneccesary.
I believe our Creator likes this about us.
*******
Freedom is the crucial issue and God has given as a terrifying amount of it. people complain about all the bad things people do and about God's supposed silence. I think this is wrong=headed and these very same people (myself included) which scream to the highest heaven if we were deprived of our blessed freedom to utterly mess things up. Let's say it just occured in the silliest of ways...that whenever you swore at another human being God muffled it; or your car would not, on any street, go over the speed limit or stay still when you tried to double park and use your flashers. Let's say that any check you wrote for anything not really needed became invisible while writing and your ATM didn't work when you make an unwise purchase.
Still worse, at least 90 percent of your cable channels would not work. All glorification of adultery, usury, greed and corruption would go blank.
Oh, you would like that very much wouldn't you?
Not to mention that when you wished to gossip your voice would become like the parents on Peanuts. More serious sins would also become out of bounds. You could not look upon a woman as an object solely for your own pleasure. Murder would become impossible, George Bush would never be seen again, there would be no government, media or police. The Dalai Lama would be the only one who was not utterly confused and afraid to move.
But this is not God's way. His is the way of freedom and free will. And only in such a context can love or liking exist at all.
God's love is irrational, but His liking is not. Love is a decision, liking is an aquired taste.
And the one leads to the other. Once I decided to love my father no matter what, I started to like him a great deal more. Since I had made the decision to love him dispite his humanness and shortcomings, I was free to see the things truly likeable. I was also able to then see him as just a guy...and not like some symbol..blah blah blah. And he is a very likable man...funny, good-hearted, passionate about justice...honest and he is always trying to better himself
I think God likes these qualities in him too...especially the honesty and good humor.
I really like my kids...and it is for some of these same reasons. They are funny, kind, honest. They say strange things and we all laugh. I guess I think God sees me that way. I'm a weird kid (don't get me wrong) but I am funny, and serious, and honest. I also cry easy which means my heart is not hard and I care for others.
Liking is not about earning. We cannot earn the love of God, only receieve it gratefully. But liking is a result, or good fallout from love.
I have to love my kids. It's hard-wired. But I do not have to like them. I do happen to. I like each one of them and they are all very different. I few hours with Sean is wildly entertaining and frenetic. I like the way his mind works and how he smirks. Thomasis very much like the poem I wrote for him when he was three. I will reprint it later today (The Tea Garden). There is a settleness in him that I admire and enjoy...and he has a good smirk too.
Adam, as I have said before, is maybe the best hearted person I know. I like his self-respect and how he carries himself...vulnerable and open, yet pretty wise.
And Camille is just fun...and smart and aware. She is most like me of all of them. I can see her deciding in her 20s to become an artist or novelist and doing either extremely well.
I think kids assume love whether it is there or not. But being liked by your parent is maybe even more important in a sense. Isn't that what you wanted and want?
Peter Tork has Returned
Cammie's Charm
Camille really loved her Italian Charm bracelet. I think The Spongebob and the Suchi charms are her favorites.
PUPPYHEAD
Puppies, like children, and a near endless opportunity for play and fun. Sadie has a great day yesterday with the kids.
Gifts
Gifts on a birthday.
Today Camille gets her birthday gifts. I find it easy to buy for boys and a bit stymied when it comes to Daughter.
I have already bought her every possible art set (they are stacked out on the deck).
So after much deliberation I settled on an Italian Charm bracelet and a watch that matches.
I had no idea that I was entering another world...an Italian one with many ways to get lost.
Weeks later I emerged and packages started coming in and I had the put it all together. The two most expensive pieces were the above. They are tiny, but still go for about 20 bucks a shot each.
The others were not so bad...and meaningful...one of the GG Bridge, another of a puppy paw on a red heart (the Poochini Loves the Little Girl), a penguin to scare off brother (who is afraid of penguins) a horseshoe with her birthstones, a church, some baloons, a birthday cake, some sushi,...oh here are a few more:
Camille loves New York and also her Papi
But most of all there must be Spongebob, and also Jerry (Mucho Mouse).
I wear an ankle bracelet Camille gave to me when she was 4. I had one before that from Thomas that fell of the day he turned 18. Jewelry should be meaningful I think and tell a story where it can.
"This Conversation is Over" part 134
It changes all over the map on a monthly basis.
At first it is notification via email that only email will do (this is after being hung up on a few times) and that LIBF will be the one doing the negotiating. Then when that is ignored (because LIBF has no say in any of this legally or otherwise) then it becomes email only with many threats about not reading emails if they do not say what is wanted. Such as:
I will not read an email from you debating this. If you want the schedule this way, this is what I'm willing to offer. I don't care if you like it nor how you judge me. This is what I can do this weekend. Let me know. If I get an email stating anything other than when you are going to drop Adam (half way at 1:30 or all the way at 3:30), we will go back to the day visit and I will get them both on Saturday, and if you harass me too greatly, we will reschedule the visit.
This email about my not debating via email is followed by two more emails from her going into great detail and debate, but with suitible warnings not to reply in any fashion or further access to the kids will be denied. "Harassing too greatly" equals answering in a civil tone.
The reality is that you cannot have a discussion with Lucy. It is not judgment on my part, just experience.
Anyone who knows me has had discussion with me where I listened, considered and even changed my mind...right there on the spot. That is what adults do in discourse. But this is not whatever happens with Lucy. She called yesterday, after I had made it clear that I would still come get the kids this morning and also meet her in Richmond tomorrow night. She objected and started to make accusations which were more or less silly. And this, even though she got what she wanted and I did not.
She hung up on me.
Just another version of "this conversation is over". Which is why I email. You have seen from the emails what I am dealing with here. It is worse on the phone because there is no record. It consists of Lucy spouting off, accusing and berating, then if you have anything to say at all she hangs up on you.
Over the years I have learned that I was never intended to actually be conversational. At least in an email I get to ask real questions even though they are never answered.
The illusion is that if one can control the means of communication that one can also control the message. Not so. The very nature of language and reason are a threat to supposed and presumptuous powers.
Reality is on my side. My son is 14 and my daughter is 9. That means Lucy has to deal with me for at least another 9 years in some direct fashion. The conversation is not over until then, when I can finally shake the dust off my shoes and move on. In the meantime, she will have to find someone else to terrorize so long as it is not my kids.
I am grateful for email because there is accountability in it, as there is in blogging. Any number of you can bring me up short on something I am not seeing and the conversation is not over by any means. I feel certain I have blind spots, and the urging to be compassionate in return for evil is a good one. I never said I was gonna do this perfectly.
Overall it is about the kids. That is where the real rub is. As the one being villified and also manipulated (or the attempt is there) I have to balance their immediate needs with the long term ramifications.
*******
I wrote recently about incarnational love. At the core you see out from another person's view. I look out from Adam and Camille's view and see how they watch this crap happening. You cannot fool children very often. They are watching for two things....do I have self-respect enough to speak the truth and resist manipulation; and will I be compassionate with their mother and show her respect.
They already know she does not respect me. They are watching to see if I will accept this. I will not, and this makes them happy. That leaves only the latter question. I will not disrespect her. In fact, I will continue to focus on what she does well and faithfully, and hope that in time she will find healing for those places that invite her to be mean and controlling.
It's not my deal anymore. My kids are and I have a great day ahead of me with them. I'll post pictures later.
Face the facts Lucy
There is no such thing as a simple negotiation with Lucy (this is my new name for L...she has all the attitude and spunk).
Lucy wrote me this:
I need to be clear: we are beyond working around what you think is fair and right. The only thing that matters is whether or not you are willing to see Adam and Camille in terms that I agree to. Your accusations about your kids being withheld are false, but your unwillingness to do whatever it takes in order to see your kids continues.
This does not have to be fair. I never has been. I am no longer willing to work hard so the kids can see you. You will have to be the one working hard for that. It won't matter to Adam if you tell him I was unwilling to come get him. Coming to get him is not part of my job as a mother. It is your job as a father to do whatever it takes to see your son, which you do not do.
The simple reality is that there are steps that needs to be taken before the visitation situation changes, and until you take those steps which are clearly deliniated, I am willing to allow the kids to see you with supervision, but you're going to have to make it work.
Now, what you are saying, regardless of how it is framed, regardless of all your words about my motives and how inconsiderate I am, what you are saying is that spending time with Adam is not worth a drive to SF on Sunday. That is something you need to go public with. That is something you need to archive and save for your attorney when you go back to court to change the order.
I will see you tomorrow morning here at 10:30 and in Richmond at 7:00 to get both kids unless you're unwilling to do that. In which case there will be no visit, the kids will remain 25 miles away from you, and you will spend the day writing about how you can't see them, which is so much easier than actually parenting.
Now we have to unpack this a bit at a time.
The first thing to note is she has to be clear for herself. No one else needs to be clear. Second, she admits it is not fair nor does it need to be fair.
So she needs to be clear about her being unfair.
Okay. I'm clear on both.
My kids have been witheld from me. That is not false. And when I have asked to see them I have to go through a phalanx of BS (see above...which was the third email today) to even do that. I had already agreed to her stipulations and timetables...then she changed them. I agreed to the modifications...she now challenges those.
Does that make ya wonder?
It is unusual that she admits it is unfair. Yet she is not apologizing. I have yet to see any evidence that she has "worked" at anything concerning my kids and my relationship. She has certainly done all she can to eradicate it. Maybe that takes work and she is just confused.
Adam is certainly worth much more than a drive to San Francisco. That is not the issue. The issue is she agreed to come and pick him up on Sunday since we were doing the bulk of driving. if I give in on this then I do all the driving from here on out...until she decides that is not enough.
You see (see earlier posts) it never ends with this one. If there was an end in sight, or it was reasonable or some way to stop the bleeding that she needs to see happen, I'd be all for it. In fact, I have been all for it...and it has landed me here...right HERE.
It has landed me with dealing with an irrational woman who admits it is not fair or right but who simply wants life on her terms only. It is not about the kids or what is fair. It is about what she wants...and that alone.
The point is I am not allowed to parent, which is really a shame since all of my kids enjoy being parented by me. I will be again and her reign of terror will be over. Until then I will continue to speak openly about what has been done, what is being done and how it affects my children.
Part of Lucy's responsibility as a divorced parent is to come and get Adam after a weekend visitation, just as it is mine to come and pick him on tomorrow morning. It is not what they want at all, and such power plays are bad for the soul and they do spill into the children like bad karma. A mature couple that has divorced place the welfare of the children first over their own issues. That means good will, fairness and equity. That is what the kids will remember and also see modeled in what transpires.
I am very open to good will, equity and fairness in all areas. But I can only do my part.
*******
Make a note. I have agreed, no matter how unfair, to both pick the kids up tomorrow and then meet in Richmond at 7 p.m. This is far from my ideal, but I want to give Camille her present and spend some time with both. If it is refesued, it is not because I have not agreed to the demands. It will be sheer arrogance and pride that will undo a very simple visit.
Making the point again...
This picture has nothing to do with anything. I just like it. Thomas in Jeep, a slingshot and cigar.
That's a Mac...a T-Mac.Well it all looked set with the kids this weekend. On the way back from a short trip I told Reese "It doesn't make any sense...what is in it for L?"
My reasoning comes from 20 some-odd years of experience. L doesn;t do anything without something in it for L. So why just let me have the kids when she is not yet forced to?
Then I got the email this a.m. She now wants me to do all the driving. Pick them up, bring them back. It is not a request. It is an order.
So I have written back and requested that she bring them on Saturday morning. Then I am more than willing to meet her on Sat. night with Camille and bring Adam all the way to Alameda on Sunday.
It is only fair.
If she asked me as a favor because it has been a hard week I suppose I would consider that. I'm like that. But it is not a request. As I said, it is an order.
So it sets precedent.
Now, not a few of you will scold me for once again holding the line. I can only reply that I do so now because I did not 30 lines ago and it never ends. Like any abusive relationship, there is often some consent on the part of the victim because they tolerate injustice. I suppose this is classic "enabling".
How will my own kids learn to respect themselves and their own boundaries if their father will not? Should Adam just give up in every argument whether he is right or wrong?
As I said, if the email had been a request "Chris, I'm just jammed and could use your help...can you please bring Adam back on Sunday?"...hey no problem.
But it isn't. It's an order. And I do not take orders from this one.
We will see what happens when the court restores my rights and she is forced to deal straight up. I will forgive, but I will not forget.
