Keyword: fox

  • What Does The Fox Say?

    “What Does The Fox Say?” by Jason Kotecki. 24 x 30. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    Have you ever texted someone a question and then those three little dots pop up as they formulate their reply? 

    You know the three dots.

    Depending on how consequential their response is, that delay can feel like an eternity, right?

    We want answers now, but sometimes they take a while to come.

    From the very beginning of our relationship, Kim and I talked about living in a lake home one day, surrounded by tall pine trees. It took over twenty years to come true, which was approximately nineteen more than I expected.

    Over that prolongated waiting period, I asked God what was taking so long many times. I never got a concrete answer. (At least not one that kept me from asking it again, three months later.)

    When we grow impatient waiting for an answer, we are prone to make up our own.

    I figured maybe God didn’t hear me. Maybe He was hard of hearing. Maybe He was waiting for me to pray harder. Maybe I wasn’t good enough. Maybe He didn’t think I deserved it.

    The thing is, I never got the sense that God was saying no. Sometimes I wished he would, because the waiting was so difficult, as He wasn’t exactly responding with an obvious yes. Just twenty years of three dots.

    After the dream home materialized, in the middle of a global pandemic, when we thought we might lose everything, so did the answer. It became clear that He was doing important work in me that mattered more to Him than the dream home, and that kind of work takes time.

    Eighteen months after moving in, a storm rolled into Sheboygan, and a terrible straight-line wind ripped through our backyard. It destroyed 150 trees, uprooting our forest oasis and plunging us into debilitating debt.

    Again, I came to God with a question: Why?

    This time, my faith was stronger than the roots of the pine trees that couldn’t stand up to the storm. I knew something good would come from the nightmare, but the three dots lingered for longer than I would have liked. I leaned on a question that got us through the pandemic, and one I share almost every time I’m on stage: 

    “Now that this has happened, what does this make possible?”

    A week after the storm, I took my family to breakfast. After we ordered, I turned to a blank page in a journal and asked my wife and kids to dream with me. What was possible now that the storm had taken all our trees? One by one, we built our list as we envisioned a bright future.

    It took a few months for the professional lumberjacks to clear the trees, level our property, and for the new grass to take root. But now we have a stunning, unobstructed view of Lake Michigan and a vast stretch of green to play baseball and bocce, and frisbee. We’ve hosted several Moonrise Movie Nights with friends and family. We installed a fire pit, a bird bath, and other whimsical touches that make our hearts sing. We recently planted fruit trees that we hope will yield ingredients for homemade pies, and we hope to add some legacy trees that will look gorgeous in the fall.

    When people who knew our old backyard see our new one, they often lower their voices to a whisper and say, “I hate to say it, but I think it’s even better now!”

    And you know what? They are right. We do miss the trees, but we like this version of our backyard even better. And never in a million years would we have had the gall to cut down 150 perfectly good trees to get it.

    Meanwhile, even though insurance didn’t pay for any of the backyard cleanup or restoration, it did give us a new roof, which was due to be replaced. And the debt, which is steadily being paid down, has drawn me even closer to God, which is right where He wants me.

    So what about you?

    Are you in a spot where you are waiting for answers, and all you’ve received so far are the three dots? 

    I can’t tell you when the answers will come, but they will. Maybe not till the next life, but maybe sooner than you think.

    As you wait for answers, don’t be so quick to make up your own.

  • The Princess Dress

    “The Princess Dress” by Jason Kotecki. 36 x 36. Oil on canvas.
    Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!

    This painting was inspired by my daughter.

    Our family loves going on walks. A half mile from our house, there is a row of lakefront homes. A small sliver of land between two of them serves as a public access point to the lake. A few years ago, an hour before the sun tucked itself in for the night, we pushed our strollers through the skinny green passageway to enjoy the pint-sized plot of beach that was ours.

    It wasn’t long before my oldest began wading in the water, delighted by the sand squishing between her toes. Lucy was wearing last year’s Halloween costume — a sparkly pink and yellow princess dress — because, well…just because. The gentle waves kissed the bottom of her gown. I considered telling her to be careful not to ruin it, but reasoned that a little water never hurt anyone.

    Meanwhile, Ben was outfitted in his Incredible Hulk costume — you know, just because — and for some reason, was lying face-down in the sand. Motionless. He looked like a big green sea turtle who had come in with the tide to build a nest. We’d be finding sand on him days later.

    By the time I turned my attention back to Lucy, she was in lake water up to her armpits, princess dress and all! I stood there, in stunned silence, as the supercomputer in my brain whizzed through its vast database in search of some rule frowning upon the intermingling of lakes and princess dresses. (Old Halloween costume or not, that dress wasn’t cheap, and I didn’t want it ruined.) But the warm smile that beamed widely across her face suggested that perhaps this was yet another rule that doesn’t exist.

    In that moment, with the sun setting behind her, I realized that Lucy was living life as well as it could possibly be lived. Too often, we fall far short of this ideal. Why? 

    Because we’re afraid of getting our princess dress wet.

    And we all have one. Our “princess dress” is the carefully curated version of ourselves that we show off to others. It’s the way we look, speak, and act. It’s our degree and our job title, our home and hairstyle, our cars, clothes, and 401ks, all wrapped into one pretty package and tied with a bow that signifies that we are responsible, sophisticated, and successful.

    In order to keep this princess dress looking good, we must live a life of restraint. No full-out running, no sitting on the ground, no eating messy things, and certainly no swimming in lakes.

    We are given countless opportunities to dive headfirst into the experience of life, but we are too afraid to mess up our hair, our clothes, or our reputation. Because running through puddles, making a mess, or doing something silly for the sheer sake of fun sullies the dress we’ve worked so hard to preserve. And besides, people like “us” don’t do things like “that.”

    While settling for good enough, we miss the insanely great.

    Guess what? After the dip in the lake, Lucy’s princess dress went into the washing machine and came out… good as new.

    Fear does a pretty good job of keeping us from living an amazing life. But it’s a horrible predictor of the future.

    Don’t settle for dipping your toes into this adventure called life. For best results, spend more of your time up to your armpits in awesome. 

    Don’t be afraid to get your princess dress wet.