Anger Issues

I have issues. Oddly enough, these issues didn't really surface until I had children.

See, I used to be the most patient person in the world. Honestly. For example, I could end up behind the slowest person in the grocery store checkout, and it wouldn't bother me a bit. Stuck behind a car driving 45 MPH on the freeway? No problem.

But all that changed when I had children. Perhaps it was a lack of sleep. Of course, once they started sleeping through the night, that should have taken care of it. Hmm. Maybe it's because having children creates a hormonal imbalance. Might be true, if I were the mother. But I'm the father, and last I checked, my hormonal contribution to the role of parenting ended around the time of conception.

The truth is, the reason for my anger is sin. No getting around it. I have a sinful, selfish streak that children, frankly, interfered with. Prior to children, I could pretty much do whatever I wanted how I wanted when I wanted (with my wife's blessing, of course). Children, however, don't really care what you want. They just want to be loved.

So, I started getting angry. And the problem is, my anger leads to unnecessary yelling. And yelling, I've learned through the years, does nothing to build up family relationships. It only barely results in obedience. Mostly, in results in something Paul warns about, when he says, "Fathers, do not exasperate your children."

It's true that yelling at my kids will get results. (Usually.) If I'm angry that they didn't get the dishes loaded in the dishwasher, so I have no pans to cook with...well, that certainly gets the dishes loaded in the moment. But the end result isn't that I have children who look at me and go, "Oh, Daddy, thank you so much for setting me straight and teaching me how important it is to get a job done right and on time! I'm so much better now for it."

As much as I wish that were the case, instead, I might get the dishes done, but I've also created a bit of fear of me in them. They are obeying not out of love, but out of fear. And worse, this can lead to them sinning. For example, I've found times when my daughter would rather lie to me about something out of fear of me getting angry at her for the truth.

Exasperating my children, indeed.

But what alternative is there?

Well, I had convinced myself for a long time there wasn't any. If only the children would do what they were supposed to, I wouldn't have to yell. But this line of thinking was shifting blame of my own sin (anger/yelling) to my children. I wasn't taking responsibility for the fact that I was the one who had lost control, not my children.

So, one day, I made a decision. The yelling would stop. I would fine alternative ways of disciplining and teaching. And while the decisions hasn't led to an overnight change in my own behavior, I have gradually been discovering that there are other ways to handle my children. Respectful ways. Ways that don't involve exasperating them. Ways that don't involve invoking my own sinful nature. It is an exercise of patience. But it is also an exercise that has strengthened my relationship with my kids, rather than undermined it.

So, what's the point of this post? It is an example of how, when we look at our parenting methods, we need to make sure we aren't using sinful, disrespectful ways to getting the job done. It might be the easy way in the moment, but it isn't the best or right way. Look for where you struggle...what times do you "lose it" with your kids? Once you recognize the triggers, you can talk about it with your spouse and come up with alternatives. Just don't start shifting blame. Your children are not the adults...you are. As I've learned, I can't expect them to act like adults when I can't!

Christian Parenting Fundamentals

When you think of good parenting, what comes to mind? I think for many of us, good parenting usually revolves around what we DO: everything from, "Should spanking be used as a form of discipline?" to, "Should I allow my children to drink beverages with high fructose corn syrup?" There are countless dos and don'ts in parenting. Quite often, two different sources of parenting information will give two contradictory pieces of advice on what you DO to handle a given situation.

But what I've learned is that parenting isn't about what we DO or DON'T DO. It is about who we ARE as parents, what behaviors we model, what personal patience we can muster, how much love we can demonstrate toward others. We need to shift our focus from parenting dos and don'ts to who we are, spiritually, as parents. When we make that shift, the dos and don'ts start to fall into place. And even if they don't, they don't seem to matter as much.

In Christian life, in general, I notice a great many people ask the question, "Is this certain behavior a sin?" I think we're afraid of this legalistic idea that the rules we follow might not actually be sinful because of the freedom we have in Christ. But this line of thinking opens the door to figuring out what we can get away with, rather than seeking the heart of God.

Because of this, I'm always drawn to 1 Corinthians 10:23:

"Everything is permissible"--but not everything is beneficial. "Everything is permissible"--but not everything is constructive.

God wants what is best for us...and while certain behaviors might not technically be labeled a sin, it also doesn't mean it is what is best for us...and by extension, what is best for our children.

Rather than ask ourselves, "Is this wrong?" the question really should be, "How does this help me love God and/or others better?"

This is a driving force behind my desires not only for my own life, but for the parenting decisions I make. This is also the fundamental force behind the Christian parenting advice and teaching I will present here. It isn't to suggest it is the only way, or that other ways of parenting or wrong...but only that I want to ultimately do what is BEST for my kids, not simply ENOUGH. And that starts with me. Sometimes that takes slow and painful change within myself. Truth is, I'm a sinful human being still being perfected. (Shocking revelation, I know!)

A (kind of) new blog

My blog is going through some changes. It has a new look and a new focus. Well, kind of. I've always had various posts on parenting here. The difference is that I intend to make this blog more exclusively about parenting...and Christian parenting at that.

I'm gradually cleaning out old posts that are "off topic". But I plan to make new posts about the subject that is most near and dear to my heart: raising children to love the Lord. I will likely delve into related topics, including personal spirituality and the marriage relationship as well. They are all intertwined in a way that can't fully be separated.

This post is the "FYI". My next post should actually contain some meat.

A Slave Nation

Slavery was outlawed in this country a very long time ago. You all know the story. But a different kind of slavery exists today. A self-imposed slavery that few of us seem willing to free ourselves from.

The Bible speaks a lot about money. Most of it isn't terribly flattering. The one I'm most drawn to is where Jesus says, "No one can serve two masters...You cannot serve both God and money." That, and when Paul says, "Let no debt remain outstanding except the continue debt to love one another."

There was a time period in my life after a Promise Keepers conference where I vowed to get rid of all my debt. And, after about two-plus years, my wife and I managed to pull it off. At least, to a degree. We had no credit card debt, and only lived (for a while) on what we took in. But we still had car payments and a house payment. I'd convinced myself, however, that those weren't really "debt", since we had, essentially, collateral.

That attitude, however, I now see as flawed. Debt is debt. And debt makes me a slave to money, no matter how much I think it doesn't. The recent recession in this country is proof of this. People are foreclosing on homes left and right, home values have dropped to levels far below what people owe. So much for "secured debt".

And these same people (myself included) are slaves to money as a result. We are forced to live where we live, fearful of losing our jobs and our homes as a result, rather than trusting in the Lord.

At one time, I figured that if we had the faith of a mustard seed, the Lord would protect us from such calamities as foreclosure. But now I realize that if I had the faith of a mustard seed and trusted in God's plan, I wouldn't have had to hope God would keep me from financial ruin. The truth is, I'm living with debt now because of my own faithlessness, my own sinfulness.

God has blessed our family, to be sure. But I can't get past the fact that as I'm struggling to pay off the debt I've managed to rack back up again in the past several years, this money could have been put to much better use. Often, I imagine what my life would be like if I could say, "Hey, family, let's go out to dinner tonight," and be able to pay cash without worrying if I'll have enough at the end of the money without relying on credit cards.

I'm getting there. My wife and I are working towards being "debt-free" once again. In less than a year, we should be there. But then we want to go further. We want to stop being a slave to money. Buy cars with cash, rather than financing them, for example. Or, the ultimate goal, to have a home that belongs to us no matter whether I lose my job or not...a home that is paid off.

I wish I had lived this way from the start, never falling prey to the seduction of having more than I can afford. Consider the typical 30-year mortgage. Even if I never faced losing my job, and was able to keep up on my house payments, in the end, I'll be paying almost two times more for the home than what it cost. Consider it. For a $200,000 home, I could pay an extra $260,000 in interest. That's $260,000 that might go to work building God's kingdom, helping the poor and hungry, of taking better care of my family such as being able to replace those couches we have in our home right now that we can feel the boards through.

My short-term goal is to eliminate all "unsecured" debt within the next 12 months. Beyond that, I'd like to be free of all on-going car payments within two years, and ten years from now, have a home that is completely paid for. Because then, we'll no longer be slaves to money.

Perhaps you'll consider joining my journey.

I'll write more on this subject later...

Just wait until...

A few days ago, I was in a conversation with a couple other fellow parents discussing, you guessed it, parenting. I won't go into the gory details, but at one point one of the parents made that so-oft-repeated phrase, "Just wait until..." followed by some child's age that our kids haven't yet reached, and how we should dread this coming time period in raising our children.

Thing is, I'm sick of hearing this. I've been hearing it my whole life. First, it was the, "Just wait until you're in the real world." Then, "Just wait until you have a wife of your own." This, of course, leads to, "Just wait until you have children of your own, until they turn one, until they turn two, until they turn three, until they turn five, seven, ten..."

And yet, each step along this path of "just waiting until", we've not seen it. The problems, the horror, the whatever it is we're supposed to be waiting for.

The thing is, my wife and I firmly believe that children are a blessing from the Lord. A blessing. Not a "kind of" blessing, or a blessing as a newborn, and at eighteen, but not a blessing at all the ages in between. They are blessing every single day. Which means there is a level of responsibility thrown at us, at parents. God has blessed us. In our case, five times so far. And as parents, we have to take that blessing seriously. Our kids will not raise themselves, or naturally become model children. It takes work and effort on our part.

If I were blessed with a new job, would I just sit back and expect the blessings to fall into my lap without me putting in the hard work? Nope.

A few weeks ago, I was reading Psalm 127, and the first verse really struck me. "Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders work in vain."

The Lord has laid out a plan for our lives, for how we are to raise our kids, and if our kids are not turning out how we'd like, it might be time to look at ourselves and see what it is we're doing wrong. Parenting is less about the kids, and more about the parents. Our heart, our attitude, our commitment, our willingness to examine ourselves and the sins in our own lives that will ultimately creep into the lives of our children.

I can't help but think that every time a parent says, "Just wait until...", it's that that parent has given in and accepted sinful behavior on the part of their children as unavoidable. I think it can justify the behavior of their own children to warn other parents who aren't in the same "boat" of the storms ahead. That's easier, I suppose, then actually changing yourself as a parent.

My wife and I are constantly having conversations about our children and our parenting. We don't always get it right. Often we completely mess things up. But then we talk about it and vow to fix it. We ask God's forgiveness, and often, ask for the forgiveness of our children.

I have an issue of losing my cool at times. I'll start yelling when I don't need to, when there are better, more effective ways to handle things. It is an ongoing sin in my life that I'm working on. I have to work on it, because otherwise I'm at risk of becoming a "Just wait until" parent myself. After all, as it says in the New Testament, "Fathers, do not exasperate your children."

I fear I'm guilty as charged. But the Bible doesn't just say it...it says it for a reason. It is a call to action on the part of fathers everywhere to step up and do better than they are.

Rather than look at the examples of fellow parents who have children behaving in "Just wait until" ways, I'd rather look at the examples of fellow parents whose children are a blessing from the Lord. Those parents are the ones who put in the hard work and triumphed. And so I strive to be more like them.

On second thought, I suspect that they are striving to be more like Christ. That's why they are succeeding. So, I'll strive for the same. And as I do, I'll always keep in mind that children are a blessing from the Lord. Always.

Party like it's 2003!

Do you remember what life was like before February 2004? That was when we had to actually, you know, be social in order to be part of a social network. Talk to people, invite them over, call them on the phone, or perhaps even use a quaint bit of technology called e-mail.

It's amazing, isn't it, that in just six years, it seems like people can't live without Facebook. Despite all the complaining about their frequent changes to the interface, annoyances at getting too many requests to help build someone else's farm, and concerns over increasingly reduced privacy, if you actually suggest to someone that they could, of course, just walk away from Facebook. They could delete their account (which, as it turns out, isn't as easy as it sounds) and be done with it.

It's about that time you start hearing a list of reasons why Facebook is like manna from heaven, and why they could never get rid of their Facebook account. They need it to keep up with Aunt Sue (because we all know how important it is to know she's having trouble keeping up with her children's school work). Or they need to be able to let all their friends gain easy access to all the photos they've been taking (even though, truth be told, no one really cares even though they're posting their own photos, too).

Thing is, we can live without Facebook. In fact, we did it for a few thousand years. In fact, even without e-mail or cell phones or internet or even land-line phones, people seemed to survive. In fact, people seemed to survive by relying more on one another than we do today. They actually formed social networks (aka, extended family) that would last for generations.

Now, before you think I suggest we go back to those days (and, frankly, it has a certain appeal to it), I'm merely suggesting that we seem to be willing to give up parts of our lives for this thing called Facebook quite willingly, forgetting that we got along just fine without it before. Because, as much as I enjoy reconnecting with old high school friends, or having last-minute updates on what's going on in everyone else's lives, none of that has ultimately improved my life.

So, a few weeks ago, I did something about it. I actually deleted my Facebook account. And you know what? I'm still kicking. Somehow, I'm still living my life, still loving my wife and kids, still going to work, still working in the yard. I'm still going to see family at our annual Memorial Day picnic. In short, I'm still partying like it's 2003.

You can, too.

Really.

Not that you have to. I'm just saying.

Believing Their Own Lies

Over this past weekend, we took our kids to the Cranbrook Natural Science Museum. In most regards, it is great museum...but I'm bugged by the blatant attempt to not merely show the world as it is and was, but push an evolutionary worldview. There is an entire section, for example, that tries to "prove" that evolution is true.

And, while that annoys me, it isn't unexpected. But what I came across on this weekend made me downright angry.

Cranbrook is hosting an exhibit that is all about dinosaur eggs and baby dinosaur fossils, etc. But there is a hidden secondary purpose to this display: to make impressionable minds believe that dinosaurs evolved into birds.

This is, of course, a more recent development in evolutionary theory based on virtually no real fossil evidence. Still, scattered around this room were dozens of "artist impression" paintings of what these dinosaurs looked like. At first I didn't take much notice. But then I started to see that almost every single one of them had dinosaurs with feathers. And so I glanced around the room, and sure enough, with a few exceptions, the paintings featured feathered dinos.

And that's when I started to get angry. These paintings were made based on a belief, not science, and the museum, by displaying them, is hoping to convince those who were there that dinosaurs developed feathers and eventually became birds.

Trouble is, it is a lie. All of it.

Then, the most significant point came when I first read the caption next to "picture" of an "oviraraptor" dinosaur. While the picture clearly showed the dinosaur with features, the caption said, quite clearly, that paleontologists have found NO fossil evidence that the oviraraptor had feathers, but they painted them that way because they believe they might have. Hmm. Notice that bit about there being "no fossil evidence"? I sure did.

Except that about thirty feet away, there was another little display that said asked a question. It asked what two things make scientists today believe that dinosaurs evolved into birds. The answer? Number: That the oviraraptor had feathers, and that the dinosaurs carefully tended their nest of eggs.

The second bit, of course, doesn't really offer any evidence at all, since is a behavior. But the first? A blatant lie that contradicts the very statement made elsewhere in the very same museum. There is no fossil evidence that the oviraraptor had feathers, yet this display stated that they do!

Of course, I took this opportunity to point all the flaws with all of this to my own kids. But the thing is, this kind of tendency to believe in their own lie is found throughout evolutionary science. There is so very little evidence that supports even the possibility of macroevolution, yet scientists defend it as fact to the point of having to actually lie to the general public to keep people from balking at it.

Do your research, folks. Ironically, there is so much MORE scientific evidence that supports the creation model than there is the evolution model. Don't believe me? Well, go look for yourself.

Heave (the) Ho(e)!

So, this weekend I began the long, arduous process of building a new patio. The patio won't be huge, and while deciding just what kind of patio, exactly, I'll build, one major factor in every household decision for me is: how much will this cost me?

Now, I've learned from past experience (read: mistakes) not to be too cheap, otherwise you end up with a patio that, over the winter months, allows underground beasts to rearrange your bricks, forcing you to start over, only to repeat itself the following year.

So, yeah. I'm doing this right this time. But it also means I'm forgoing the absolutely beautiful bricks in favor of the old 4" X 8" rectangular standby.

Anyhow, so far, I've started digging. And, you know, I'm not as young as I used to be...but I figured that with all the working out I've been doing, I shouldn't have a whole lot of problem with getting 6" of topsoil out of the way.

I'd be wrong.

After a little more than an hour of shoveling, I was done for the day, my back sore, and bruises forming on my heals. I had managed to dig out trench only about 2 feet wide, and 15 feet long.

So, here's where being a father can be great (perhaps even moreso than the actual act it took to become a father!). Because I have two strapping young boys who were just hopping at the idea of doing some real "manly" work and digging. I handed over my shovels and let them at it.

Remember what I said about wanting to save money? Well, this was great. Free manual labor! They weren't complaining that they weren't getting paid, so why should I? Unfortunately, that little while angel over my left shoulder (known affectionately as "the conscience") pointed out that, after two days and 2 hours of work by two of my boys, we were still only halfway done. They were tiring out, so I let them know I'd pay them $1 per hour.

I thought I was being rather generous. Until I told my wife. She informed that I was being a cheapskate. I mentioned they actually didn't mind doing it for free. So, we compromised...and I ended up paying them $2 per hour instead. (Okay. So compromise sometimes means admitting that your wife was right.)

The shoveling isn't done, yet. But it is close to done...and I have two very happy boys who have, at the time of this writing, have earned $6 each.

Tonight, hopefully we'll finish the job. Heave ho, boys. And I'll heave the hoe. Then comes the next back-breaking part of this process: laying the foundation. I wonder if they'll do this part for $.50 per hour. (Because then when my wife tells me that I'm paying them too little, I can double it to $1 per hour.)

My Daughter Beat Me Up!

In this corner, we have our first contender: a bearded, weight-lifting, treadmill-running, health-food-consuming born and raised in Michigan, racing treacherous winters and scorching summers...Ryan Bruner!

And in this corner, we have...his four-year-old daughter!

Round one. Ryan's looking fierce. Arms swinging, sweat forming on his brow. He dodges to the left, dodges to the right. Ooh! He takes one to the upper jaw. Then another in the gut. Then another and another. He manages to jab one right to his daughter's nose, but she's quick to recover and pummels him again. He's down for the count!

And that, my friends, is how things are in my house. No, it isn't a new discipline technique. And no, it isn't an attempt to toughen up our daughter. And NO, I'm not abusing anyone. (If anything, she's the one abusing me!)

No, nothing like that. Welcome to the world of Wii Sports...where you can beat up your kids (or your kids can beat up you) and have a blast doing it. Or sore arms.

Well, we did it. We bought a Wii. Well, first we searched for a Wii, but thanks in part to the coordination efforts of a friend of mine, I managed to buy the last one from a shipment of them to Wal-Mart a few weeks back. I got it all connected up, and ever since, our family nights have consisted of beating each other up, or attempting to make four strikes in a row (so far, no one has managed that one), or hitting one out of the park.

And so far, here's what I know. I'm good at bowling, and that's about it. My eight-year-old beat me at baseball. My ten-year-old beat me at tennis. My six-year-old...well, he hasn't beat me at anything yet, come to think of it. And my four-year-old? Well, she currently holds the Bruner-weight championship title. She's managed to go three rounds with her oldest brother a couple times, but usually she wins in the first round.

It is kind of funny to watch, too. Her "Mii" (which, for those who don't have a Wii, is simply a character you create on the computer to look like yourself) with braided pig-tails throwing punches at my bearded Mii with glasses.

There are, of course, down sides to the whole Wii Sports addition to our home. Such as my six-year-old deciding to take boxing outside the virtual arena and into our living room. That was nixed immediately. But in general, it has been a lot of fun to be playing together as a family. It has even taught our kids a lesson in team spirit. When my wife was getting down about failing to pick up even a spare after several frames, the boys were quick to cheer her on. It's also provided opportunities to realize that it isn't who wins that matter, but that we're having fun along the way.

Anyhow, that's our life, so far, with a Wii. My daughter beat me up. But don't worry, next time, she's going down, I tell you. Down.

Can you tell that I love her?

Firecracker, Firecracker

I was always a bit of a weirdo, even as a kid.

Back in the first grade, the boys on the playground would taunt and tease the girls. Personally, I couldn't stand for it, and so I found myself being a traitor to my kind and coming to the defense of the girls. Of course, in hindsight, I'm sure the girls could have held their own just fine...but at least I felt like I was making a difference in the childhood irrational fear of cooties.

One side effect of this was that I found myself playing with the girls moreso than the boys. This also meant I had an inside scoop into a world generally off limits to the male gender. I got to see what it was girls liked to do when the boys weren't around. (Or, at least, when all the boys except me.)

It was then, in the first grade, that I learned my first cheer.

Firecracker, firecracker, boom, boom, boom!
Firecracker, firecracker, boom, boom, boom!
Boys got the muscles!
Teachers got the brains!
Girls got the sexy legs,
And we won the game!

I remember being drawn to this rather risque cheer because I got to say the word "sexy", and managed to get away with it. And I suppose it isn't the most PC of cheers. But, I was in the first grade...and this was the 70s.

So, flash forward to the present. Today, I'm actively involved in various musical groups at my church, the most recent of which is the choir for kids in fourth through sixth grade. I admit, I kind of push the kids. I take music seriously, and expect them to not only sing...but sing well. But, being an adult among kids means you risk becoming a staunchy old man. What to do, what to do?

Last weekend, we had a special Saturday rehearsal for the upcoming program, and during the break, three of the girls decided to work on a cheer of their own. And the door was opened unto me. I had my opportunity to connect to these kids in a way that showed them I'm a kid at heart. So, as they finished their cheer, I offered to show them mine.

Of course, it wasn't nearly as exciting without my pom-pons, of course. But I soon had them enthralled. Enthralled that an adult such as myself would make a complete and utter fool of himself. They laughed and giggled, and when I was all done, they wanted me to do it again.

Mission accomplished. That's all it took...one thirty-second cheer...and I'm suddenly the coolest thing since, well, whatever kids think is cool these days. Ironically, I earned their respect by acting like a weirdo.

It seems to be the same with my own kids. They may know to obey and follow our rules and even want to please us...there is something about just having some fun together that makes them want to obey and follow the rules and please me. If I'm having trouble with one of my kids, it is often a sign that I'm not spending enough "fun time" with them. And frankly, I don't spend enough fun time with them. With everything in life vying for my time, sometimes such a simple thing can become lost in the daily grind. But it is when my daughter says to me as I'm getting ready for work, "Are you staying home today?", that I realize I need to be more weirdo with my kids. I need to be embarrassing. Because, ultimately, that's what kids want. They want a father they can be embarrassed by. Because embarrassing fathers are fun.

Now...if only I could find my pom-pons...

To be Young Again

Ever since I started writing my young-adult novel(s), I have increased my daily intake of young-adult reading material as well. It makes sense, to read the type of books you want to write. Right?

But something interesting has happened in that time. I discovered I like books for the young-adult (henceforth referred to as the YA) more than I like books for adults. At least, generally speaking.

Of course, there are exceptions. Recent adult books I read and loved include: The Kite Runner; 1984; and The Thirteenth Tale.

And as much as I can rattle off some great adult books, there is just something about YA books that attract me in a way adult books don't. In some cases, it is the imagination of it all. Exploring the world through a child's eyes, or exploring worlds that seem long-forgotten once we grow into adulthood. I think, too, there is a level of innocence about YA books. Not that YA books don't tackle some sensitive and serious issues. After all, The Chocolate War is, to this day, controversial and often tops the list of books to ban. Which is a shame, since it is a great book. (I don't think it should be banned...although, I also don't think my 9-year-old is ready for it just yet.)

Yet, I think the innocence I'm talking about is more like innocence lost. YA books show the blinders coming off the innocent character, discovering that the world is far more harsh than their own lives might have them believe. Perhaps it is a story about an ophan girl who has never known love, trying to find her place among her knew family. Or perhaps it is the story of a boy who discovers he's a wizard...and that ultimately, that magic can never bring back his parents. Or maybe it is about a girl who simply wishes to be "pretty" like the rest of the world, but learns that perhaps being pretty isn't all its cracked up to be...that people can love you for who you are, and not what you look like.

Mostly, I think reading YA allows me to return to my childhood. To be young again. I hear most adults complain about their adolescence as a time they never wish to return to. But I liked my YA years. It was a time when everything was new, when there was self-discovery, and there was a passion about things that I've lost as I've aged.

It is ironic, really. I started reading adult books when I became a teen. It wasn't until I became an adult that I started reading books meant for teens.

So, next time you're in the library or bookstore, head to the young-adult books and take a look. There's a lot of great material there! It's your chance to be young again.

Mister Know-It-All

You want to know something? I'm a really annoying person.

Thing is, I don't mean to be. I'm also a very nice, compassionate, intelligent person. Yet, I can't seem to help being a Know-It-All.

I don't mean to say that I actually know it all. I don't. Not even close. I just come across that way. Really, it is more that I'm a stickler for accuracy...and so if I read or hear something that isn't quite right, I have this innate need to set things straight.

Of course, on occasion I've been wrong about what I thought wasn't quite right. But, generally, I tend to keep a lot of unimportant facts and details in my brain that really don't matter to anyone else. Worse than that, however, is that I end up telling people these unimportant facts.

I swear, if my wife ever considered divorcing me, it would be over the times I decided to "correct" something she said. Never mind the correction was completely beside the point of the conversation. Yet, in those times, I can almost see the flames of annoyance in her eyes. Then I have to come up with some clever or witty cover to douse her irritation with me. (As it turns out, I'm neither clever nor witty most of the time.)

I wonder why it is. I mean, it's not like I've never written or said anything that wasn't 100% accurate myself. And, honestly, I find it terribly annoying to be corrected when that happens. I, of course, have to come up with something terribly clever or witty to hide the fact I didn't know what I was talking. (And as it turns out, I'm neither clever nor witty most of those times, either.)

Yet, knowing that...knowing that being a Mister Know-It-All is just annoying, I can't seem to stop myself. It is a disease, really. And so, I must apologize right here and now to each and every person who had to roll their eyes at me. And while I'm at it, I'll apologize to each and every person who will inevitably have to roll their eyes at me in the future. Because I'm a flawed individual who just happens to Know It All. I can't help myself. (Annoying, isn't it?)

It's All Good (Maybe)

Just when I thought it was safe to cook healthily, it appears that scientists have, once again, muddied the waters. For reference, take a look at this news article. And if you don't feel like reading it, the summary of it is this: It appears that there is no scientific evidence to support the idea that saturated fats are actually bad for you. And there never has been.

This is disconcerting, since we have all (or at least, I have) been going to great lengths to avoid saturated fats in our diets. Saturated fats are bad, so the theory has been. This is different than trans-fats, by the way, which should just be avoided at all costs.

It appears that consuming a diet higher in saturated fats does not increase your likelihood of heart disease. And while it may increase your total LDL levels, it also raises your HDL levels in a way that keeps things balanced. It has been determined that the radio of HDL to LDL matters more than total LDL levels. The higher HDL levels offsets any negative effects of LDL.

So, where does that leave us? Well, as it turns out (and I'm sure this fact has Dr. Atkins rolling in his grave), carbs have a more significant role in heart disease than it was believed. That's because a diet high in carbs can lead to higher levels of triglycerides in the blood. Triglycerides are actually more significant in determining heart disease. One major source of triglycerides is, of course, consuming high fructose corn syrup. Avoid the stuff. But also just sugars in general. Because it triggers the release of insulin, which leads to the conversion of excess sugar in the bloodstream to...you guessed it...triglycerides.

This would seem to be consistent with the Type 2 diabetic's inclination toward heart disease. A diet high in carbs, which eventually leads to the diabetes.

And just what, then, is the proper way to eat?

Moderation, of course, is the key. A diet high in fiber and fruits and vegetables. And avoiding trans-fats. But those simple sugar and corn syrup-laden foods? It should be no surprise they are bad for you. And foods heavy in saturated fats? Well, they may not be as bad for you as once expected...as long as you are, again, eating in moderation.

Take a look at peanut butter (and a variety of tree nuts). These are known to be healthy choices. Yet, they have high saturated fat content. The key is that they are also high in polyunsaturated and monounsaturated fats. So, find foods rich in both of those.

Maybe, just maybe, that diet I was prescribed when first diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes is the best diet after all. Not necessarily low-carb, but low-sugar. And I suppose this means I'll have to cut back on those Hostess Chocolate Chocolate-Chip muffin loaves I love so much.

Believing Science

Back in college, I took a very pro-evolution class called "The Nature of Science", which fell under the realm of Philosophy, according to my University. In this class, we talked about various aspects of science from a philosophical point of view. But about half of the semester was devoted to the evolution versus creation debate. And, the instructor was undeniably biased toward the evolutionary point of view. Fine.

In this class, we learned of an argument that, once upon a time, evolutionists used to use to prove that evolution takes places. Then, it was shown how this, as it turned out, did nothing to prove evolution. (Nor did it make any difference whatsoever to the creation side of things.) This case was about some butterflies (or moths...actually, I forget), and how prior to the industrial revolution, there were all these butterflies of a certain color. But, once the industries started their task of polluting the air, the butterflies changed their color. It was thought that, as a result of the darkening of the trees due to air pollution, that those butterflies that were white were obvious targets for birds, and quickly had to either adapt or be eaten. So, evolutionists of the day believed, the butterflies adapted by turning dark. Soon, all the white butterflies had become dark butterflies.

The problem was that no actual adaptation took place. Instead, it was just a shift in the already existing population. Very few dark butterflies survived prior to the pollution. After the pollution, the dark butterflies blended better, and soon the white butterflies became bird food.

I bring this up because of something I've noticed recently in regards to recent news about various viruses that have either mutated or may mutate, causing a health hazard. The idea is evolutionary in nature (micro-evolutionary in nature, actually...so, having nothing to do with supporting evolution versus creation, since the creation view supports micro-evolution). There is a virus. But this virus mutates, developing characteristics that allow it to better survive, and harder to kill by modern medicine.

We've seen the news about the bird flu, for example. Or how about the new one about the rare cold virus that has killed some folks recently? Are we seeing evidence that a virus as truly "evolved", in a sense, and mutated into another form?

Or, is it possible, that we are seeing a population shift? Or, perhaps, different breeds, in a sense, of the same virus? It is possible that both viruses descended from the same parent virus. Over time, and through isolation, one strain of the virus lost certain genetic information compared to the other strain. So, yes, they are different...but not as a result of a mutation. Both, then, coexist. However, for whatever reason, there is a population shift. The more dangerous strain is becoming more prominent, possibly because whatever external factor that used to keep it in check isn't around any more.

I raise this because it has implications on the "fear" that the bird flu may mutate at any given moment to something more dangerous. Perhaps it won't.

And look at the implications for the overuse of antibiotics. It has been suggested that viruses are becoming resistant to antibiotics. They have mutated. But it is also possible that these antibiotic-resistant strains have always existed. Only, now that we have been successfully eliminating their competition through antibiotic use, the ones that are resistant are, again, experiencing a population shift.

What I haven't seen is any real evidence given that we've actually ever witnessed a mutation as has been suggested in the media. Would we be able to differentiate a mutation from a population shift? History would suggest not necessarily. What I'm curious about is if anyone who is more familiar with this has links to information that provides such evidence. Because as of right now, I keep reading phrases such as, "scientists believe...," qualifying any such claims.

Such qualifiers sound suspiciously similar to the very phrases scientists balk at when they come from creationists. It only goes to show how much of science, even today, is framed by our beliefs.

The Case of the Missing Case

Two days ago, the three movies we borrowed from the library were due back. Two of the movies were ready to go. The third? Well, we had the DVD, but no case for it. This, of course, is not unusual in our home. With four kids (not to mention myself!), things get misplaced frequently.

So, a mass search of the house ensued. First, in all the usual and expected places. When the case didn't turn up, we searched all the unusual and unexpected places. Still no case. We interrogated the kids, but none of them knew where it was. Under the beds, behind furniture, stuffed among the piles of papers and books strewn across the house, in the laundry room (including, yes, in the washer and dryer!), through piles of laundry, bathroom cabinets, and everywhere.

Nothing. Of course, we're in the process of preparing for a move, so things are in a general disarray at the moment. I explained this situation to the librarian, and he gave me special dispensation, renewing the disc for me to give me more time to find the disc.

I, of course, checked under our bed, between the wall and our mattress, in and around our nightstands. Very thoroughly, I might add. So, of course, I was a little put out when my wife grilled me on just how well I checked there.

"Did you look between the wall and...?"

"Yes!"

"What about underneath...?"

"Yes! I did!"

I detailed where I looked quite extensively. But the next day, the case was still missing.

That night, just before going to bed, I decided to make one last check in our room. Just to be sure. You know. Just in case. Which really means that little voice in the back of my heading saying, "Uh, Ryan? Are you sure you looked as well as you say you did?" Of course, admitting I hadn't would only prove my wife's distrust of my searching ability as correct. So, I wouldn't admit.

Anyhow, there I was at eleven o'clock at night on my knees, searching under the bed once again. And that's when I noticed something. Near the wall, behind a box. It was thin and white. Just like a DVD case. I moved the box and, lo and behold, there it was! The DVD case!

Of course, the only possible solution was that at some point one of the kids found it and stuffed it back there at some point after I had searched under the bed. That's it. Really. Because it couldn't be that I didn't search good enough. Not after tearing apart the entire house.

*Sigh*

Okay, okay, okay. I admit it. I was wrong. I looked under the bed, sure. But not as thoroughly as I had made my wife believe. And as a result, I went to my wife on my knees and begged her forgiveness. (Honestly, I really did do that. Because I know when I'm doomed.)

So the case is missing no more. Of course, the question still remains. How, exactly, did the case get there to begin with? That, I'm sure, was the misdoings of my kids. Still, it taught me something. I'm just not about to admit what that is.

What's Next? No Friends Allowed?

Well, I think we're approaching the end of civilized civilization as we know it. And I'm only partly joking. Because from this point forward, you are not allowed to hug anyone. That would constitute a "public display of affection" after all. Even if that hug is a friendly "good-bye" hug among friends. That'll earn you a detention.

Oh, and I guess that little tear drop forming in the corner of your eye when you know you won't be seeing them for the entire summer vacation? Cause for suspension, I'm sure. In fact, you'd better not even have friends, because that would eliminate any possibility of displaying any form of affection at all.

That's what this world is coming to, apparently...at least as evidenced by this article.

Something is wrong here. I'm sure the school board was originally trying to preventing the "suck-face" displays that irritate the on-lookers in the school hallways. Seems reasonable. But come on, a good-bye hug among friends?

I'm tired of the implications that touching implies some impropriety in this world. If anything, I think there is a serious lack of touching in the world. People need affection. People need to know they are loved and cared about. People need a shoulder to cry on or a comforting embrace at times. Girlfriends need (for some reason that eludes me) to hold hands or lock arms as a way to prove their BFF status to everyone around them. Even boys need to rough house. Touching is a part of life. It is a necessary and healthy part of life.

So, what is it with banning the "PDA" (public display of affection)? And what school principle would be so cold-hearted to interpreted such a school policy so literally? Have we forgotten our common sense?

I'll admit, I'm not a "huggy" kind of guy. I find it slightly uncomfortable when my fellow man throws his arm around me to show me he appreciates me. Yet, frankly, I wouldn't want it to end. Because the only way I'll stop being uncomfortable with it is when I see how important it is as a normal part of life. A normal part of relationships.

There is a guy at church who a touchy-feely kind of guy. If he is within a few feet of you having a conversation, he'll undoubtedly pat you on the back, hug you, shake your hand, or even, dare I say it, place his hand on your shoulder! And despite my own discomfort in displaying similar PDAs, I find it truly pleasurable to be around this man. He makes you feel loved. He makes you feel like he really cares about you, and that you matter.

I wish the same could be said about me and my more hands-off approach.

So, I say, go ahead. Hug a friend. And if it leads to a detention, so be it. Because we all need a little hug now and again. And no school policy should tell us otherwise.

I'm Right! (Aren't I Always?)

There's some saying about a man who toots his own horn being bad thing. I forget how it goes, precisely. But, I'm going to take my chances here and say...I was right!

Of course, what I'm right about really should be nothing spectacular. It involves cereal and a healthy heart. According to this article, men who eat a bowl of high-fiber cereal each day are at significantly less risk for heart disease than those who don't.

It seems common sensical to me. So much so that I've been preaching the "eat foods high in fiber" message for a long time. My wife, frankly, is sick of it, and I have to sneak a peak at the nutrition labels now when she isn't looking. My personal goal is that when I'm eating any food that would be considered a "grain" or "bread" item, to aim for at least 2 grams of fiber per serving.

My kids, of course, would love if it I had been wrong. Because me buying "kid's cereal" is a rare treat. Sure, it comes "fortified" with vitamins. But fortifying really doesn't make it healthy. It just makes it seem healthier. No, I insist that they eat high-fiber cereal, eating it like a man. Of course, there are plenty of healthy yet tasty high-fiber cereals. Raisin Bran, Frosted Mini Wheats, Kashi Go-Lean Crunch, Mueslix and similar multi-grain cereals, just to name a few.

Sorry, kids. But this only proves I'm right and justifies the lack of Cocoa Crisp and Lucky Charms cereals.

See, thing is, when my cholesterol levels started to creep up a while back, it was during a time that I had reduced my high-fiber cereal intake. When I returned to due diligence, my cholesterol levels dropped, no medication necessary!

So branch out, folks. Browse a little longer in that cereal aisle. Check the labels. If you see less than 4 grams of fiber, put it back on the shelf. Yep, that means skipping some cereals that otherwise seem healthy, such as Special K. And if you are new to the game, I don't suggest jumping right in with a 9-gram per serving cereal. Ease into the waters of healthy cereals. Your heart will thank you for it. (If, that is, your heart could talk.)

Incidentally, diabetics, who are most prone to heart disease, are most likely to benefit from this change. Just bolus accordingly!

Shedding Light on His Dark Materials

I received a new book in the mail this weekend, co-authored by none other than my own brother, Kurt Bruner. Kurt has a bunch of books to his credit, including several co-authored with Jim Ware (Finding God in the Lord of the Rings being the most popular.)

My brother writes Christian non-fiction, so perhaps that's not your cup of tea. If it is, however, then his new book might be right up your ally. It focuses on Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials fantasy trilogy.

At this point, I can't tell you, first hand, much about the book. For one, I've never read the His Dark Materials trilogy. And two, I've not yet read Kurt's book about His Dark Materials. But, since it just came out, and there is an upcoming movie based on the first book in the series, I thought I'd bring it to your attention.

What this means for me, of course, is that I'll have to go read Philip Pullman's books and then read Kurt's book. So, give me about four months to get back to you. Or just go buy Kurt's book without waiting for me. Either works.

The book is titled Shedding Light on His Dark Materials, by Kurt Bruner and Jim Ware.

When Vacation is Over

Vacation is over. Our twelve days of bliss ended last night at roughly 9:00 pm when our car, fully loaded (including the car-top carrier), pulled into the driveway. Four of those days were spent in the car, making our way from Michigan down to Florida...and back.

You know, back when I was a kid, my family would take 2-week vacations in the car, and I remember my mother yelling at us to get our noses out of that book and look at how beautiful the scenery was. We'd pop our heads up, see that instead of there just being trees, there were now trees on hills. Uh, yeah. Back to our books.

I found myself on the opposite side of the fence this time around. We have a gorgeous country. The foothills and mountains in Tennessee are beautiful. Yet, there my kids were, noses buried in their portable TV screens playing video tames (okay, so times have changed a little bit), reluctantly glancing up when we'd gasp and proclaim how they need to take this in now, because they'll rarely see this kind of beauty at home!

Our destination was, as I mentioned, Florida. More specifically, Walt Disney World. Four parks, six days, legs-so-tired-we-could-barely-walk...but it was a blast. I managed to terrify my two oldest boys by taking them on the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror, and I swear my second son was about to have a heart attack riding Expedition Everest. (He quite literally "screamed like a little girl.") Of course, when he got off, he decided to ride it two more times.

And now we're back. Back to work, back to keeping up with the house, back to cooking healthy meals (since I think I managed to gain about 10 pounds).

It is always interesting, though, to see what has changed in the time you are gone on vacation. In 12 days, for example, the daily temperature dropped from around 80 when we left, to 69 today. The price of a bottle of Diet Mt. Dew in the vending machine at work went up from an unbelievable $1.35 to a disturbing $1.45. And there is now a pile of lumber sitting across the street from our new house. (Well, new basement. It isn't exactly a house yet. Just a hole in the ground lined with concrete.)

Mostly, though, things are pretty much the same. Rather comforting, I'd say.

A Harry Potter Analysis, part two

Note: As with my previous post, this post contains spoilers for those who haven't read the complete Harry Potter series. Proceed with caution.

The Messiah figure is quite common in literature...and particularly in the genre of science-fiction and fantasy. One reason for that is, in the world of science fiction and fantasy, unlike other more "realistic" genres, coming up with a way to have a character die and come back to life is easier. It simply takes a bit of magic or whatever.

But not all Messiah figures are created equal. Take The Matrix. Neo is, undeniably, a Messiah figure. He was "prophesied" as being "the one" (and even his name is a anagram of this). And, at a key moment in the movie, he dies. Only after his death and subsequent resurrection does he have the power to defeat the agents that led to his death.

And despite later symbolism, such as Neo's "ascension into heaven" at the very end of the movie, and his ability to raise Trinity from the dead in the second movie, Neo, as a true Messiah figure, kind of falls flat. Nothing leading up to his death and resurrection really can make him like Jesus Christ.

In Lord of the Rings, we have Gandalf, and his death and eventually resurrection as well, after dueling the "demon". But, again, his role as "Messiah figure" is limited. He, ultimately, isn't the salvation of all...but merely salvation of some of his friends. Of course, Tolkien didn't set out to write allegorically.

Harry Potter is different. While he, too, was prophesied as the one who would save the wizarding and muggle worlds, and while he eventually dies and comes back to life (in a sense), he is a stronger representation of the true Messiah, Jesus Christ. Why?

First, the true Messiah was a model of perfection. He lived a perfect life. This was key, because in order for him to be the final sacrifice for all, he had to be the "spotless lamb" that God had required of the Jews for generations. And while Harry wasn't exactly perfect, what is clear is that he, unlike even Dumbledore before him, approached his role as "savior" with a pure heart. He was never seeking anything for himself. He was seeking truth. Repeatedly, Dumbledore admired Harry for his pure heart, his ability to love, and the love that was shown to him through his parents. He was able to secure the Deathly Hallows because he wasn't, as was the case of Dumbledore, seeking to raise himself up as powerful. He wasn't proud.

And it was this very quality that made it possible for Harry to defeat death, and ultimately, Voldemort.

Harry also had his "disciples" prior to his death, including friends Ron and Hermione, as well as others. But he also had his "pharisees". The kids (and grown-ups) who despised who he was. The Malfoys, for example.

As the Messiah figure, Harry ultimately defeated death, "Satan" (in the form of Voldemort) and brought about a "heavenly kingdom"...that is, a wizarding world that no longer had to live in fear.

Now, the figure I find more complex in is Dumbledore, so I'll attack that another time.