Being a Parent: Challenges and Blessings

Celebrating Special Days

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Fri, 27 Apr 2012 04:44:00 +0000

One family tradition that our children enjoy is going out to dinner for their birthdays. It is never a quick meal at McDonalds, but often a nice steak or sushi restaurant where they can enjoy a filling meal. My wife and I enjoy these experiences to bond with our children. Nothing more meaningful than to spend time together.

Relishing the moment

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 03:18:00 +0000

From time to time, I notice young parents struggling with the apparent herculean task of keeping their children from harms way or simply not making a mess of things around the house. When I considered myself as a part of that group, I thought that raising teenagers or at least adult children would be somewhat easier.

Well, as things have turned out, life is always a mixed bag of events, challenges, and new life lessons, but you have to be prepared to embrace the good and the somewhat uncomfortable as it comes along. Last night as I was preparing to go out for a late-night job, one of my older children invited me to go for a walk around 10:00 p.m. And while we might feel somewhat inclined to go, I thought it would be a nice way to wind down and just talk about anything, from zombies and school work to Shakespeare and the evening meal.

I really relish these moments because I don't know when, if ever, they might come around again.

Getting Things Right and Healing

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Sat, 17 Mar 2012 03:25:00 +0000

Perfection isn't always to be when trying to say things just right in all you do. People tend to say the first thing that comes to mind, not the second, and not being judicious in what one says can have a rippling and collateral affect on others. This is true in family and in friendships. Keep in mind that when you attempt to give advice, the advice might not be wanted or warranted, and even if it is, unsolicited comments often don't go over very well.

So, let's say you DO stick your foot in your mouth, or someone has made comments for which they regret. Give people an opportunity to apologize and allow the person to be forgiven . . . and allow the even to be swallowed up and forgotten is part of the forgiveness process. No one should feel that in spite of 1,000 acts of kindness, service, and love to repair any damage or heartache that their efforts are in vain.

We all make mistakes, and being allowed to move on without the constant shadow and reminders of past deeds can greatly facilitate the healing process.

"I love you!"

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Sat, 10 Mar 2012 01:02:00 +0000

"Dad, you're the best father in the whole world. Let's talk."

Uh-oh. I can feeling something coming . . . "Okay, what do you want?"

I shouldn't always assume that my children have some pre-planned agenda when they come and lavish praises on my such as these, but I am often correct in anticipating that something is coming. My kids often don't mind trying, realizing that my answer will often be "no."

"No, I'm not buying another family car."
"No, I don't think everyone needs an iPad."
No, I'm not going to take you out to dinner tonight."
"No, I won't do your chores. Just because I won't clean the bathroom for you doesn't mean I don't love you."

This said, there are many times when we can and should say YES:

"Yes, you can come and talk to me any time of day or night."
"Yes, I made a mistake, and I'm sorry."
"Yes, you are right, and I am wrong."

I often have to suspend judgement before I leap to a conclusion on why my kids tell me they love me. I many cases, they simply mean it.

Randall

Gratitude

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Wed, 29 Feb 2012 02:48:00 +0000

Gratitude is something that most people appreciate as they go about their daily lives. However, although most parents would like to feel some gratitude from their children for the things we do, this shouldn't be the reason why we have and raise children. Parents will often run around wondering and complaining why children aren't more grateful for our providing the daily necessities of life, but you'll always feel somewhat cheated if you expect life to be fair and children to thank you for paying the electric bill or for putting gas in the car to take them here and there.

Someday, they might thank us, but I'm not waiting around for that to happen. I love my kids whether they recognize my efforts or not, believing that as they mature, gratitude will take root in their lives.

Randall

FamilySearch.org: Doing Family History

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 23:23:00 +0000

My children often comment that my main hobby is finding dead people, and I guess in a way they are right. I have enjoyed doing genealogy or family history research for many years, and by learning about our ancestors, we learn more about ourselves.

On of my favorite Web sites for doing research is FamilySearch.org, developed and maintained by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It is free to use, and you can find all kinds of records to get your started. The Web site has a number of free online courses, its own database of articles, and information on how to get help at local family history centers.

Give it a try.

The Value of Work

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 02:51:00 +0000

One of the things I have tried to instill in my children is the value of work. When I was growing up, I worked a number of part-time jobs including working on a farm, selling vegetables at a roadside fruit stand, delivering newspapers, flipping hamburgers at a restaurant, working as a waiter at another, ushering and selling concessions at a movie theater, and . . . .well . . . other jobs.

Now, it can be nice when things fall in your lap, but the reality of life is that things often don't come easy, nor are they meant to be. For that reason, we have encouraged our own kids to work, for which they have done: on a farm and at restaurants. They have also done volunteer work.

In all of this, there is nothing more satisfying that providing for yourself, at least to the extent that you are able. You might not feel that way, and I certainly didn't when I was delivering heavy Sunday newspapers during blizzard and freezing conditions during one particular winter, but those lessons and experiences are what certainly forge our character in many, untold ways.

Developing Discipline Over Time

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 03:54:00 +0000

One of the challenges of life is to develop the discipline to always be engaged in behavior or activities that we will to greater long-term satisfaction in life. Sometimes, my kids wonder why I don't eat tons of ice cream, cake, and cookies. Well, yes, I sure like the flavor and I have cravings to eat to my heart's content from time to time. However, I realize that they will stick to me like glue, and they can have long-term effects on are overall health.

For someone who runs a lot in long-distance events, you would think I wouldn't be so concerned about that; yet, we can defy age, and not taking care of our bodies will catch up with us eventually.

It is hard to convince someone in their teens or in their young-adult years of these facts. You can sermonize all you want on these topics, so in the end, the best thing to do is live the best you can and hope your example speaks louder than words.

Having Fun Together

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 20:10:00 +0000

As parents, we often spend so much time trying to whoa or entertain our children with all sorts of gadgets, gizmos, and expensive outings that we often fail to connect with them doing much less extravagant activities. Case in point, our family decided to spend five days visiting and volunteering at the largest animal sanctuary in the United States (Best Friends - www.bestfriends.org) right before Christmas, and it was a real fun activity to do something together and to help work with homeless pets including dogs, cats, horses, pigs, and others.

Yes, I'm sure visiting Disneyland can be fun as well, but it seemed to create bond and purpose amongst ourselves as we spend time thinking about other living creatures in this world.

Randall

New Beginnings

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 02:53:00 +0000

Many people view the new year as a chance for new beginnings, and perhaps I viewed it in this way. However, by simply viewing life this way, it can stall our potential growth and leave us depressed when we come up short in our goals after two weeks into January.

Rather, I tend to view each day as a new beginning. If things don't work out on one particular goal, revise it and make new attempts to improve on the previous day. Life is meant to be savored each day, and having the chance to renew new ideas and goals on a daily basis can keep us moving forward.

For me personally, finding new ways of building relationships with kids (be they teenagers or adults) can be something you do every day.

Bonding Time

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Wed, 12 Oct 2011 02:29:00 +0000

How do you spell bonding with a teenage daughter?

I-C-E-C-R-E-A-M!

Garden Miracles

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Tue, 11 Oct 2011 23:50:00 +0000

Over the years, our family has had mixed success in growing a garden, but for the most part (and as a general rule), plants flourish when you take care of them. However, from time to time, we end up with seeds that start growing on their own, originating from many possible sources: old plants from the previous year, bird droppings, the wind . . . who knows. These unplanned plants, often called "volunteers" in the garden community, are generally unwanted, and I usually just yank them out of the ground.

This year, one such plant sprouted in my onion patch, and I was very tempted to pull it out along with a bunch of other weeds. However, I hesitated, thinking of giving the plant a chance to grow. On more days than one, I stared at the plant, wondering where its sprawling leaves and vines would take it. "What could come from such plant," I grumbled, thinking that the area of the garden could be used much better for other purposes. Please understand that I didn't want to waste my time and water on some no good plant just taking up space.

As the summer passed, the unknown plant kept growing and growing, expanding itself into the onions, on to the lawn, and up a trellis supporting other vegetables. I also spotted a strange melon-like fruit growing on the ground. It didn't quite look like a cantaloupe or honeydew melon, but it seemed to be of that family. Then, it suddenly ripened. We hauled the melon into the kitchen, cut it open, and saw a seemingly bland-looking fruit. Not quite the rich-looking orange of sweet cantaloupe, but when we bit into it, we were amazed out how an ordinary, unwanted plant could turn into scrumptious treat.

Later on in the season, two more huge fruits ripened on the vine as seen in the picture, weight about 12 pounds (5.5 kilos) each. So the next time you think something isn't worth the effort . . . that something is simply worthless . . . give it a little time, patience, and care, and you might be surprised what it turns into at the end of the harvest.
So the next time you think something isn't worth the effort . . . that something is simply worthless . . . give it a little time, patience, and care, and you might be surprised what it turns into at the end of the harvest. Perhaps, that is the same with raising kids: don't count them out without the right nurturing patience that they need. Never give up!

Enduring the Race of Life

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 02:32:00 +0000

This past summer, I ran in a unique nighttime race called the Millcreek 50K, which started at 9:00 p.m. and traversed a number of mountain ridges, trails, and beautiful vistas during the 31-mile course to the east of Salt Lake City, Utah. One of the challenges of such a race is the relentless climbing that you have to make throughout the night while wearing a headlamp to keep you on the trail. There were times that I felt pretty exhausted, and at one point in the race at 3:00 a.m., I decided to lie down beside the trail and bask in the moonlight . . . mainly to rest up for the next section. At times, the thought of dropping out of the race crept in my mind, but I reminded myself that although it was somewhat slow going, completing the race would be worth it. Near the end of the race, I found myself on top of ridge as the sun was coming up along the eastern horizon . . . a fantastic and warming site that illuminated the valley below.

This race in many ways reminded me of the race of our earthly existence: there will be some very dark moments when we feel we can move forward no longer. The blackness appears to wrap itself around us with little hope of prevailing until the end. However, by simply going on, the bright lights of the day will eventually break and dispel the darkness. This won't come immediately, but hope and faith tend to bring greater perspective into our lives. Will there be pain along the way? Absolutely. But the journey and what we learn along the way will be worth it for it is through trials that we learn the greatest lessons.

Bird Watching . . . literally!

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Sat, 27 Aug 2011 00:30:00 +0000

As a parent, I often (constantly) need to remind myself of the many great things that my kids are doing that often go unnoticed or underappreciated. This past week, my daughter had her wisdom teeth taken out and battled with the pain, infection, and an unexpected fever that unfortunately come on as a result of the procedure. However, in spite of all this, she raised a baby bird that had fallen out of its next until it took flight today. Now, that might sound like a simple task, but when you realized that baby birds need to eat almost constantly, then you realize the magnitude of the task. She had a cage sitting right next to the couch where she lay sick and feverish all week, and then was still able to muster the strength to give the bird the attention and nourishment it need to develop.

Well, today, the bird too flight from our home . . . a bittersweet moment, but the fact the bird survived is a simple testament to my daughter's diligence in caring for a small creature that needed someone to care for it.

Thinking Ahead

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Sun, 08 May 2011 03:16:00 +0000

Having some predictability in life can be a calming force to help you prepare for future events; however, as my children have grown, I have come to expect the unexpected, and learning to embrace this fact can help calm troubled seas. Life is about learning, and learning can come amidst the most unusual of circumstances.

The Effect of Dry Humor

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Sat, 26 Feb 2011 22:56:00 +0000

As I was driving home with my youngest daughter, she mentioned that the other day, she had visited a friend who showed her some very old books, one in particular that dated back over 200 years. She commented on how cool it was to hold such a volume in her hands . . . the idea being that anything old brings with it some fascination and intrigue. Then, in my usual way, I commented that I had something that was even older, and I asked her if she wanted to see it. This really piqued (=to arouse or simulate) her interest. I mean the idea that your dad has something more fascinating than what you saw at your friend's house would arouse some curiosity. What could this old book be?

Once she said that she wanted to see see what I had, I then pulled the car over to the side of the road, got out of the car, picked up a small rock, and then handed it to her. "Here," I said, "is something that is much older than that book."

She was certainly not amused. What she thought would be some mysterious, ancient text, turned out to be some old rock in the road. My kids have gotten used to my dry humor, and they often don't believe anything I say. Anytime I start telling some story, they just roll their eyes and ignore me.

Still, I really enjoy being a father.

Investing in What Matters Most

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Sat, 12 Feb 2011 18:37:00 +0000

As adults, so much of our time is spent in trying to get ahead in life: pursuing higher education, seeking out the best employment opportunities, buying a home, or obtaining things of material worth. Of course, many of these are very worthy goals; however, I wonder how fervent we are sometimes in investing in the emotional, not educational, well-being of our families, particularly our children. Someone once said that you'll never see a hearse pulling a U-Haul (i.e., we can't take material things with us into the afterlife including "Employee of the Year Awards), but I believe the one we can take with us is the relationship we have with our family. Many the most out of every moment with them, through the joys and pains of life, is the fabric that will bind us together.

Hope in Times of Need

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Thu, 20 Jan 2011 04:51:00 +0000

“What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise”

- Oscar Wilde (Irish Poet and Novelist, 1854-1900)

Many of the things that have occurred in my life didn't happen by choice, but I have learned that life generally isn't what we expect to be like, but rather earthly existence is what it is. So, when we are faced with challenges, it does us no good to complain about the unfairness of it all. Rather, if we can allow these experiences to craft and mold our lives, we will in the end better for it.

Just buckle up and try to enjoy the ride.

Being a Light

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Sun, 26 Dec 2010 23:09:00 +0000

Recently, one of my brothers and I went to visit my parents, my mother having undergone surgery. She was still recovering in the hospital, and one one Sunday while we were there, my dad encouraged her to sing a song in English and in Spanish. She has always been an excellent singer, and she has never hesitated to share the Good Word with those around her. She sang a couple of Christmas carols, including silent night, and I knew her voice could easily reach into the halls.

Although I enjoy listening to her sing, I thought for a brief moment that voice might disturb people outside; however, I have always been impressed with her unwavering faith and devotion to God. Never ashamed to share her beliefs, something that she has proudly worn on her sleeve. Throughout the visit, I began to reflect on what I was doing in my own life to honor my parents' name. Do I show the same level of faith and devotion that they do to each other as I do to my own family? Does my behavior toward others elevate them to live better lives because of my example?

We can never expect that our own children we live a higher standard of conduct than our own, particularly when our actions do not match our words. Personal integrity is something I have tried to learn from my parents, and I hope I can emulate their goodness towards others.

Watch for the Reefs

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Sun, 26 Dec 2010 21:51:00 +0000

“Life is not what it's supposed to be. It's what it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference.”

Virginia Satir

The following is a fictitious story that I wrote for my family---somewhat didactic in nature to illustrate the importance of obedience, life's arbitrary nature of being seemingly unfair, and truth:

______________________________

Let me tell ya the tale of Master Henry . . .

When I was a lad of 14, I decided to leave home in search of new adventure---Home life was good, but my dear parents wanted me to study books and things, and their way of life seemed to weigh me down. I just couldn't see rhyme or reason for minding the Good Book or heeding their counsel. They had lived their whole lives under the shade of the elm trees in the tiny hamlet. Their words seemed so passe, so . . . well . . . I knew they loved me, but call for adventure tugged at my mind. Mama and Papa were good folk, but their life seemed so simple; their moral code so limiting, confining. Papa used to ramble on, saying that a bent arrow never sails true. Or something like that. But, times were changing, I thought, and so I bid them farewell and departed to seek my destiny at sea.

Thus, as a new mate on the voyage of life, I thought that the rules were meant to restrict my freedom (“No drinking, no lying, no dating maidens from the pirate vessel”), and so once I was on board the ship, I tended to listen to the young sailors on deck---many on their first voyage--- wailing that the captain was just too feeble of mind and reviling him, suggesting he was out of touch to know better. The rumors even spread that he was part witch and merman, and that he feasted on squid entrails. Sordid stories, ya see. Plus, the captain walked with a gimp and spent most his "free" time up in the ship's crows nest looking at some old book or something. Must be a pirate map; ditch us all, he might. Walk the plank, fer sure.

Had I just left the confines of the home to be bound once again by the rantings of an old sailor?

There was the time when we went into port, and he warned me about hanging out in the pub called, “The Prancing Damsels.” He said, “Ain't nothing good coming from that wretched place.” But what did he know, plus all of my fellow sailors were going there, and nothing bad seemed to happen to them . . . so I thought.” And the more I went, the less offensive a swig here or there from the bottle of life seemed to me. A little salty language there, a little horse play with the bar maidens. Just a little harmless fun. It ain't that bad. And so, the roar of the crowd drowned out good reasoning.

Or there was the time that the captain said that a storm was a brewing by just looking at the sky, licking the salt water in the air, and watching the movements of the brine shrimp in the water. Jackie Boy and I decided to take a lifeboat out to the nearby island in search of treasure . . . only to have our tiny craft nearly capsized in a tempestuous squall. “Ah, blimey, the Captain got lucky. Tis only chance that we nearly drown, but alas, we doing mighty fine now.” However, some of the crew saw it differently. “Pure gambling,” quoth the other sailors, and three days later on another adventure on the life raft, poor Johnny was taken under . . . swallowed by the unforgiving sea whose rage spares no man. The old Captain made me swab the deck five hours a day for weeks for my misfortune, and I cursed him for he was always after me. "He's trying to kill me, I tell ya," I lamented. And he made me climb up the mask again and again for absolutely no reason. When I asked him why, he simply muttered, “It'll do you some good, trust me.” "Tis ain't fair, I tell ya." Then, he retorted, “Life ain't all bliss, and if you're expecting it ta be, you're gonna be sorely disappointed.”

However, as I grew older, I could finally see that while I was standing on the main deck of life looking into the uncertain sea ahead of me, the Captain was standing 100 feet above in the crow's nest . . . above the low-lying fog that clouded my vision (the rhetoric and misguided sayings of the day) . . . and he could see the perilous coral reefs ahead. And instead of riding as close to the reefs as possible (for this was the badgering of the sailors to see if the dear Captain had seasoned skills of a “true” sailor), he purposely swung the ship far out and around the reefs. No cursing or name calling that spilled from the sailors lips could coax the Captain to deviate his course, because unbeknownst to us were the changing currents that in a moment's notice could lull the unwary vessel . . . little by little . . . into the reefs.

During all this time, many of the crew clamored for adventure and the spoils of some lost booty found aground on some distance shore; yet, we spent most of our time trimming the sails, seemingly floating in circles with no apparent destination On one season in port, the Captain exclaimed that any man who wanted to leave his service was welcome to do so. Disenchanted with what many considered the drivelings of an imbalance soul, nearly half the crew abandoned the ship, preferring to take their chances with another crew.

Yet, I stayed. Little by little, I began to discover that the captain had been using these apparently aimless maneuvers in the sea over the past few months to gauge the firmness of the crew's character. "There's a reason why we stand clear from the reefs of life," he exclaimed. At main deck, you often can't see the dangers and have the youthful tendency to dispel the reasoning (how illogical it may appear from the view from where you stand) of the man upstairs.

Then, one evening I perchance to spy the Captain reading the Good book on deck and struck up some light conversation, for by that time, the Captain had shown a liking to me, and I found his somewhat unorthodox demeanor calming. He treated the crew with respect, although this wasn't paid in kind; he also had an uncanny ability to see the future; he also was true to his word. Then, after quoting a scripture or two, he said, “My son,“ for that is what he called me, ”sailing far away from the reefs might not raise the hair on your neck, but you'll always make it back into the harbor. Make friends with those who don't compromise the craft." And then he concluded, "Remember, a bent arrow never flies true.” “A what? Wait,” I interjected. My papa used to say the same thing.” And then, as the Captain quietly walked away into the fog of the night, he concluded, “And a fine man your father was.” Wait,” I burst out, “Do you know my father?”, but the Captain's silhouette faded into the night, ignoring my pleas for an answer.

Until . . .

Well, so what's your ending to the story?

__________________________________________

The Moral of the Story:

My dad tried really hard, in spite of the many family challenges we faced, to provide for our financial, spiritual, and emotional well-being. When we were growing up, we often didn't see the reason behind my dad's seemingly-arbitrary decisions, but Dad instilled in me a moral compass by which he lived that has had a lasting impact on our lives. Such compass wasn't thrown off the the roar of the crowd or the shifting values of the day. He taught us values and standards that enabled us to make our own decisions later in life when we decided to plot our own courses, no matter what these decisions would be.

He taught me that life isn't always fair or that the reasons for rules aren't always clear from the deck of the ship, but the only thing we have control of is how I react to these situations: either accept the circumstances and trust in the Captain (parents, God, other leaders) in spite of the roars of the crowd (friends, the media) to do otherwise, or reject and rebel against such counsels. When we are young, we often don't realize that the string on the kite is the instrument to keeping the kite in flight, not to bind it to the ground. Remember that the string isn't rigid; it's flexible allowing some allowance for the kite to find its way. But try letting go of the string one time and see how quickly it falls.

I realized that as a member of the family, I followed the expectations of the family and the rules of society; once I was an adult and left home, I was given complete freedom to succeed or fail. What my father taught me served as the string to keep me firmly grounded, not as the world sees it, but in terms of unwavering faith, and also the strength to stay a float and thrive in the midst of challenges, not if, but when, they sail my way.

Forgiveness: Getting Beyond the Hurt

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Wed, 08 Dec 2010 13:45:00 +0000

As a parent with the goal of successful and happy relationships, you have to be prepared and willing to forgive and forget all the hurt, misfortunes, wrongs, and indiscretions that your children commit towards you, themselves, and/or others, but you must be equally be prepared to accept the fact that your children may not be as forgiving of any of your shortcomings or mistakes. The only thing you can do is to continue to sow and nourish the seeds of love and kindness and hope that the roots sink deep into your children's hearts.

Changing Seasons: Just like life . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Wed, 01 Dec 2010 03:29:00 +0000

On one day last week, I was mowing the grass, enjoying some pleasant weather, and the next day, I was shoveling snow in blistering cold temperatures in front of my house. One thing in life that is always certain is change. You cannot stop it, but you have to accept it under its own conditions. Complaining about the unfairness of life does nothing but make you miserable.

Finding Your Way

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Tue, 16 Nov 2010 04:23:00 +0000

One hobby---or method of maintaining my sanity---is trail running. Instead of running endless miles on pavement, I much prefer hitting the hills or desert in rain, sun, or snow in testing my mental and physical endurance. In one particular race, the goal was to complete a marathon distance in the desert along some very scenic spots. The rain was coming down pretty steadily at the start of the race, but this dissipated after a few miles in the to course. However, once I reached mile 13, the runners just ahead of me seem somewhat disorientated, and although were distinctive orange arrows on the ground that seemed to point in one direction, it just didn't seem like the right way basic on the basic map we were carrying with us and the lack of footprints. Normally, a race such as this is well marked with colored flags, signs, or even volunteers to point you in the right direction. However, after getting lost and runners going in all directions, the race was called off in light of the danger of runners getting further lost in the desert.

In many ways, this reflects the challenges which confront us and our children. Too often in life, there are signals or mixed messages that can mislead us and take us off the prescribed course. Fortunately, parents, good friends, and other mentors can keep us on the right path.

Words of Encouragement

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Sun, 26 Sep 2010 00:33:00 +0000

Saying the right thing at the right moment is a constant juggling act, especially when trying to help family make the best decisions for their future. Mention the right thing, and you might rewarded with praise and admiration for your great wisdom. Say the wrong thing, and you might be the victim of some nasty porcupine quills for butting into someone else's business. The hardest thing in the process of giving advice is when you know you are probably right, yet the other person is not in the right frame of mind to see that same perspective.

My wife and I enjoy long-distance running, and although we are pretty slow, we enjoy doing it together. In part, I am trying to make up for one of the only lies I made to my wife years ago when I said (when we were still dating) that I liked to jog. At the time, I merely thought that the only thing I could say was that I enjoyed it. It never sounds very appealing for a man to admit he doesn't like to do something physical like running. I must say, however, that I did enjoy other sports including racketball, so it wasn't like I was physically inactive. I just didn't find much enjoyment in pounding the pavement mile after mile breathing in car exhaust down city streets.

Well, in our early forties I started taking up trail running in the mountains in our area after listening to the stories of an ultrarunner who had completed a number of 100 mile (160 kilometer) races. Now, running in the mountains was something I could really enjoy, and I already had done a lot of hiking, so being in the backcountry wasn't something foreign to me. After doing this for some time, my wife and I started running together, and I helped her complete her first marathon in 2009.

We then decided to try her second marathon that would take us through the desert in some of the most beautiful country in Utah. In preparation for the race, she had a specific time goal in mind, and we trained with that in mind. Having goals in life can be very useful in motivating us to achieve things we might never have done before. On this occasion, my wife was very focused on obtaining her goal, and I was just as focused on helping her achieve it. (I must openly say that she is my best friend and I try to thank her daily for the countless acts of kindness and sacrifice she has done for our family. Love for a person can actually grow as the years go by!).

Randall, and his wife, Shirley, at mile 22.

The marathon we were in was small event with only about 120 runners, and the route would take us into some canyons. The nice thing about such an event is that you don't have to listen to rock bands and the noise of the crowd around you for miles. The first part of the race went very well, and we were well on to meeting her time objective. She wasn't feeling 100%, but she looked very strong . . . for our pace.

As we reached the 22 mile mark with only 4 miles to go, I began to calculate what pace we would need to maintain over the last stretch to reach her goal, and it was becoming clear that it would be tight; however, as I glanced over at my wife, she didn't seem very concerned about it. At one point, she asked me to talk about something to keep her mind distracted from the long run, but when I started to talk about some recent family events, she told me not to talk to her. It was at this point that I realized that she wasn't completely aware of the timing and distance. Was she miscalculating in her head? If so, how was I to approach the topic without coming across as too overbearing, competitive, or uncompassionate while not getting my head chewed off? Before the race, she told me to kindly prod her on, but my encouragement could leave a sour taste in her mouth. However, if I didn't say anything (and I did ask her from time to time if she wanted to run a little more or if my walking/running pace was helping her) and she missed her goal, the thought of not reaching her goal might linger on her mind for weeks and months, knowing that she had been so close. I also might look like I hadn't done enough as her unofficial coach. Wow. Between slick rock and a very hard place.

At this same time, the memory of our last marathon flashed before my mind when we witnessed a couple running near the end of the race in which the man became somewhat upset with his woman companion because he felt that she wasn't running fast enough, and he ultimately abandoned her to complete the race on his own. Ouch.

Once we got to the last mile, I knew that coming under her time goal would be so close, and again, I kept softly encouraging her on. I then decided to run on up ahead and around the corner to see how far we were from the finish line. At that point, you could hear the loud music about a little over a quarter of a mile down the road that was greeting the runners as they crossed the finish line. I waited until she caught up with me, and then I decided to run on ahead to see if I could see the time clock which is often placed over the finish line so you can see your time. Unfortunately, they didn't have one at this race, so I was somewhat clueless as to the time. I waited within 20 feet or so of the finish line and cheer my wife on as she ran the last bit and crossed. I officially completed the race .04 seconds behind her.

We were both very ecstatic that she crossed the finish line with 58 seconds to spare. A very close race, but a superb personal victory.

So, what does all of this have to do with raising children and building relations with family? Well, knowing when to give advice and when to keep silent is a careful, and often precarious, balance of life. If you say too much and sound like you are rattling off a list of directives, then you might lose your audience. No one wants to feel like they're being preached at. On the other hand, there are times when we need to provide encouragement and boost morale and even sound a warning voice. Finding the right chemistry of counseling and admonition takes practice.

As for this race with my wife, we had a great day together, and we celebrated the accomplishment together.

Miracles Happen

noreply@blogger.com (Randall Davis) — Sun, 12 Sep 2010 15:11:00 +0000

I fully accept that somethings in life are nearly impossible to do. I can't flap my arms like a bird and take off on an endless flight over the mountains. I also can close my eyes and morph myself into horse and gallop around the desert. Those are givens. However, there are other events that seem nearly impossible, yet through divine intervention or mere luck, things turn out unexpectedly.

This summer, my youngest son went on a one-week trip with his Boy Scout troop to Scofield Reservoir, which is located at an elevation of approximately 7,600 feet in the mountains of central Utah. Among other things, he was looking forward to getting his fishing merit badge. As I mentioned in an earlier post, we are NOT a family of fisherman, but over the years, we have enjoyed simple outings that resulted in a few fish and a lot of crayfish from different parts of the state. We are simple folk when it comes to fishing technique, which using involves putting a salmon egg or power bait on the hook and hoping our cast does land around some tree or in our clothes.

One one of the days while he was at camp, a couple of the boys and one of the leaders went to one point at the lake to see if they could catch something from the bank. After some patience, my son was able to catch his first fish. No five pounder, but a fish nevertheless. Then, after casting his line out again, he found himself in an exciting fight with another fish; it seemed to pull and dance in the water more than what you might expect. When he finally was in sight of the fish and got it on land, he realized that by some very improbably odds, the fish's tail had someone gotten lassoed by the fishing line without being impaled in any way by the hook.

So, what is the likelihood of something like this happening again? Who knows? But, I can honestly say now that it isn't impossible. Improbable, yes, but not beyond the unimaginable.

Many of us have found ourselves in situations within our families (and with our kids) where impassable and difficult situations loom before us. Not having been through some trials before, the road often seems so impossible. Hope can disappear with fear replacing the void. However, like in this whopping fishing tale, miracles do happen.