Our youngest daughter Virginia Rose has quite the gift. She may be the smallest person in our home currently, but her love is mighty big, and her heart is ginormous.
“And although she be but little, she is fierce.”
– Shakespeare
Her mighty love is quite fierce, in all of the best ways.
If you show a sign of sadness, she will hold you tighter than expected and not let you go. If she witnesses you experiencing a disappointing circumstance, she’ll go out of her way to delight and surprise you, to lift your spirit. If you need a smile, she’ll share 20.
This fierce and mighty love is her superpower.
What’s your superpower? Do not underestimate how tiny it may seem, how meek or humble the gift might first appear. Your superpower is big because it’s the gift you were given to contribute to the world.
When my Dad was in his final days here on earth we made some significant promises to each other. I promised to take good care of Mom, assuring him that she would be supported. I asked him to pray for us; some specific prayers and other private intentions he didn’t know about before. He assured me he would do his best to help from the other side.
At his funeral, a dear friend and neighbor of ours for many years shared something that meant a lot. He said lovingly, “I know your Dad told us that he and your mom were moving to be closer to you guys and would be helping you with the kids. But, I think he realized he could help more where he’s at now than he could before on earth.”
I couldn’t agree more. I’m open for miracles, Dad. Pray for them on our behalf as needed.
Hearty doses of faith, hope, and love create a winning combination to open your heart to the miracles that await you.
“I Just Called to Say I Loe You” by Jason Kotecki. 20 x 16. Oil on canvas. Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!
“I Just Called to Say I Love You” is a famous Stevie Wonder song. It’s also the title of this painting.
One word in that title might be more important than all the others. We’ll get to that in a sec.
When my wife Kim and I were dating, we’d spend hours and hours on the phone, talking late into the night, racking up phone bills that if bound together, would make the longest Harry Potter book look like a pamphlet. This was in the days when phones were attached to walls and the “call waiting” feature was a source of civil war for any siblings also angling for phone rights.
My personal phone habits with Kim were the exception, not the rule. To this day, I hate being on the phone, for reasons both justified and irrational, but too numerous to bore you with. I let almost everything go straight to voicemail. I am certain the quality of my life would increase exponentially if I never had to talk on the phone ever again.
Of course, the phone is a handy tool for maintaining relationships, which is another weakness of mine. Fortunately, my wife helps with that, as she does the little things that help keep relationships alive for both of us. I am an introvert, a Type 5w4 on the Enneagram (if you know, you know), and as previously mentioned, hate the phone. A generous assessment is that I spend a lot of time in my own head and it’s easy to get lost in there. Which is good for allowing me to create wonderful things, but not so good for maintaining friendships.
Either way, it’s a perfect storm for a scenario in which if Kim dies before me, I’ll end up living alone in a home that neighborhood kids will describe as haunted and invent all sorts of urban legends about the old guy who supposedly lives there.
Part of my problem is that I overthink relationships. In our own ways, maybe we all do.
Friendships can stall if we make them too complicated or set expectations too high. Failing to meet them finds us buried in an ever-mounting pile of “shoulds.” The more time that passes, the more time we assume is required for catching up. And of course, life rarely drops oceans of uninterrupted time into our laps, so… the relationship slowly grows stale and eventually dies.
A recent conversation convinced me of that being a flawed approach.
Andy Gullahorn is a songwriter in Nashville who started an interesting routine with his friend Gabe several years ago. Every week, Andy goes for a walk. Gabe, who lives a mile and a half away, does the same thing at the same time. They walk toward each other, and when they meet, they give each other a high five. Sometimes they stop to play badminton. Oftentimes, no words are exchanged, and they simply head back home.
Kim and I had a chance to interview Andy, and he shared another routine he has with a friend who lives in Houston. Since an in-person high-five is out of the question, every Monday for six years, they simply exchange fist bump emojis. That’s it. And yet the connection has deepened to such an extent that Andy says he trusts that friend with his life.
Andy’s advice is to start small. And ridiculous. “It doesn’t have to be dead serious to make a deep connection,” he says. “In fact, if that’s where it starts, it’s hard to maintain that. The high five is just a stupid foundation to hold real relationship.”
Of course, not every relationship needs to be maintained for all time. Some people come into our lives for a reason or a season. But Andy’s right. Maybe we should focus on uncomplicating the friendships we want to fertilize.
In the interview, he challenged viewers to just commit to not having a deep conversation but to just exchange winks or honk at each other as they pass one another on the road, even without saying another word.
That’s why maybe the most important word in Stevie’s classic song is…”just.”
I JUST called to say I love you. That’s it. No fanfare. No guilt trips. No phone bills weighty enough to kill a small mammal.
We don’t always need to have an hour-long conversation for our relationships to thrive.
A high five or a fist bump emoji might just do the trick. 👊
“Good Friday” by Jason Kotecki. 12 x 12. Oil on canvas. Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!
My wife took the beautiful photo that inspired this painting.
There was something about this dandelion that captivated me.
He’s reaching the end of the line. He is weary, but remains proud and steadfast. Some called him a weed, disrupting the status quo and infecting the neighborhood. But he knows the truth. He has run his race and is now ready to give it all away, to multiply himself by scattering the seeds to bring forth new life. And in the midst of his sacrifice, with the sun setting on his last day, light shines through as a symbol of the grace within.
I call this piece “Good Friday” because it reminds me of that seemingly dark Friday, centuries ago, when all hope seemed lost and evil had won.
As I write this, the United States is in turmoil over the results of the Presidential election, which went all 2020 on us. Because of course it did. Most of the polls were way wrong, but one thing is certain: it is a nation more divided than either side probably realized.
I think it’s fair to say that both sides hoped for a decisive result, and this is everyone’s worst-case scenario. And yet here we are. Regardless of the outcome, half the country will be elated and the other will be plunged into despair. What intrigues me is how thin a line it is between them.
As I think back to that original Good Friday, I consider how preposterous it would have seemed for anyone who lived through its heartbreak to hear it labeled as “good.” Such a declaration would seem ridiculous, possibly even blasphemous. It sure didn’t seem good at the time. But for those who believed, it actually turned out better than good.
During times of great uncertainty, I find it helpful to return my attention to things I know are true.
Let’s start here: I know that the sun rose today.
I know that there’s a good chance it will rise again tomorrow.
I know that I could make a list of 100 things to be grateful for, and it would remain incomplete.
I know that, contrary to the media narrative, the things we have in common are infinitely greater than that which divides us.
I know that the quality of my life has almost nothing to do with who happens to be President.
I know that I am not called to worry about things I can’t control.
I know that I am called to focus on the things I can.
I know that asking the question, “How can I help?” is the best place to start.
And, if I’m honest, I also know that nothing about the political climate we find ourselves in seems good.
And yet, I am confident that this moment – and indeed, this year – will prove to be Good, in the end. I grant that may seem ridiculous, perhaps even blasphemous.
A big part of what will make it so is how we choose to respond in this moment. We can have our say by seeking to heal divisions that so deeply divide us. Not by trying to win others to our way of thinking, but through what always works: kindness, humility, and love.
And by trusting that the same God who called light forth from the darkness is still in control and is working all things…for good.
“Home Fries” by Jason Kotecki. 12 x 12. Oil on canvas. Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!
One good thing about the COVID-19 pandemic keeping us closer to home is that it brought back family dinner for many people. If this is one of the things that remains as part of what people refer to as a “new normal,” then I am all for it.
This painting, titled “Home Fries,” is a reminder that home is where the heart is. And the place our heart gets nourished most is around the dinner table.
In the last hundred years or so, we’ve seen technology bring about more advancements than the rest of human history combined. We’ve come a long way, baby.
For the most part, these advancements have served us well. We’re able to produce more food, travel longer distances in less time, eradicate once-deadly diseases, and improve the length and quality of our lives.
Unfortunately, we are so eager to reach for the new and improved that we often throw the wisdom of the ages right out the window. It’s dangerous to be too quick to discard the traditions of the past as old-fashioned and out of touch.
One such tradition that seems to be going the way of the dodo bird is the family dinner. Our busy, packed schedules have pushed this old-timey tradition to the brink of extinction. After all, with so many things going on these days, who has time to gather together all at once? With such full plates, family dinner is the first to go. The rise of fast food joints and microwave ovens makes it seem an easy sacrifice.
Unfortunately, the very thing we’re sacrificing is the health, intimacy, and future of our family.
As Miriam Weinstein wrote in her book, The Surprising Power of Family Meals, “We’ve perfected the segmentation of the family. Nobody has to eat the same food, watch the same show, listen to the same song, let alone sing it. We love to imagine the French with their lush tables, or the Italians with their big families, but we prefer to gobble our take-out, our home delivery, our single-serve microwave, on the run, in front of the TV, in the food court, or in the car, while we dream of quality time, of family vacations, of someplace far away.”
If you care about your family at all, you may want to reconsider the importance of family dinners in your life. The National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse at Columbia University did a study that divided teenagers into two groups. The first group had dinner with their family five times a week or more. The second group had dinner together with their family two times a week or less. The results were astounding.
They discovered that the kids who ate dinner more often with their families were up to 45% less likely to smoke, drink, use drugs, be suspended from school, or have sex at a young age. They are twice as likely to receive A’s in school. Kids who frequently eat dinner with their families are more likely to confide in their parents and are at a lower risk for thoughts of suicide. Other studies from a wide variety of divergent fields have found equally surprising results. Regular family dinners discourage obesity and eating disorders and make kindergartners better equipped to read (even more so than getting read to!)
Isn’t it amazing to think how much depends on dinner?
Please note, we’re not talking gourmet dinners here. The study didn’t mention anything about preparing meals that would make Bobby Flay jealous. And the conversation? That doesn’t have to be all that engaging, either.
Heck, in my house growing up, a typical dinner conversation often included my Dad farting and blaming it on a duck under the table. Which resulted in giggles from me and my two brothers and an icy glare from my Mom (which usually was concealing a nearly undetectable smirk.)
Oh, and my Dad also had a penchant for asking the same, stupid, boring question every single night: “How was school today?”
Naturally, we’d respond with the same stupid answer: “Fine.”
But the thing is, if by some freak occurrence, something actually DID happen at school that I wanted to talk about, I knew my Dad (and Mom) would be there to ask the question. That shared time together, that calm amidst the storm that we call life, is so vitally important. In a world that often seems like it has gone crazy, the best thing you can do for the health and sanity of your family is to step off the hamster wheel once a day and share a simple meal together. The conversations that do occur help parents to learn more about their children’s lives and help them to better understand the day-to-day challenges their kids face.
Maybe a regular family dinnertime really is tough to swing. Well, who says you can’t make breakfast your regular meal time? If all parents knew how important eating dinner together as a family was to their children — something that used to be an unquestioned element of family life in this country — I think we’d see a lot more people doing it. If you struggle finding time to corral the troops for mealtime on a regular basis, I encourage you — no, I beg you — to try harder. Not only is it a pretty good way to escape the hustle and bustle of the outside world for a few moments each day, but the benefits it provides your children are priceless.
And if family dinners are already part of your routine, why not give it even more attention, intention, and fun?
Life is fast, and technology is making it even faster. Don’t get so sucked into the promise of the future that you abandon a time-tested ritual that our ancestors knew to be vital.
Bring the tradition of eating dinner together back into the fabric of your life.
The health and happiness of your family depend on it.
“In This Kitchen We Dance” by Jason Kotecki. 20 x 20. Oil on canvas. Original is SOLD 🔴 Shop this art!
I painted this for my wife’s 40th birthday. It’s one of her favorite quotes, and it perfectly captures the spirit that fills our kitchen.
As kids, we danced all the time. We danced when we were excited. We danced when we were happy. We even danced when we were bored. Why did we ever stop?
Maybe we started worrying about looking foolish.
Maybe we’ve discovered that the world isn’t as carefree as we thought it was.
Maybe we are afraid of pulling something.
The kitchen often serves as the primary gathering place in a home. From time to time, our kitchen hosts spontaneous dance parties. If a favorite song comes on, we crank the volume, and our family of five casts our cares to the wind and shakes our booties to the music. Mind you, these dance parties are mostly devoid of any talent (although my son Ben has some sweet moves), but they are always bursting with joy and enthusiasm.
You see, kitchen dancing doesn’t require sweet moves.
It does require you to move, however. Even a little booty shake can make your body feel better.
It also requires the willingness to be vulnerable by looking a little silly, which is one of the most intimate ways to bond with another person.
And it requires the ability to take oneself lightly, which helps lighten the heavy loads that weigh us down.
