Our daughter Valerie flew into Midland this past weekend for one of those legendary GCR showers. Donna McGraw and her incredible team of long-time friends were joined by dozens of ladies from the Golf Course Road Church to throw an unimaginably over-the-top shower for the mother of my two grandsons. It was extravagant, by any measure.
Of course, when you’re expecting twins, the shower has to be a little bigger because you need two of everything–two cribs, two car seats, two high chairs, two teething rings, two spoons, two Dallas Stars onesies, two strollers, or at least a two-seater. But this shower was almost too much. Of course, we knew it would be. Our church family at GCR has been so kind and loving and generous to my family since the day we arrived in Midland. They don’t even know Valerie; she was married and living in Tulsa before we moved here; she’s only been to GCR like three times. But they love people and they love us and they go overboard in lavishing on us their affection. And giraffes. And little tiny bathrobes.
Thank you to Donna and all the hosts and everybody who showered such blessings on our daughter and her family. We are very blessed by God to belong to this special congregation of his people.
I’ve never completely understood the obsession a lot of people have over their grandchildren. But I’m starting to. I find that we are talking about these little boys all the time. I’m thinking about them more and more. I’m constantly praying to God about these two guys. I can’t wait to meet these boys. They’re due in July, they’re living all the way up in Tulsa, and I’m trying to figure out how I could retire in June!
It’s not going to work. Not for several more Junes.
It was wonderful to have all three daughters under the same roof for a couple of days and nights. It was fabulous–all the food, all the laughing, all the stories and inside jokes, all the sarcasm, all the hugs, all of it. But, I must admit, it didn’t feel complete. It didn’t feel whole. David and Collin, the two sons-in-law, weren’t here and it felt strangely incomplete without them. They’re such a part of our family now that it doesn’t feel complete unless they’re here, too.
Monday was Whitney’s 32nd birthday, but it got overshadowed all day long by other things. We had already celebrated with a slew of her GCR friends Saturday night at Ryan and Kristin’s new house, and she had to pull a five-hour shift at Market Street. So it didn’t really feel like a birthday. Especially considering that bigger things kept happening.
The church offices were closed for the holiday, so I took off for Lubbock with a couple of friends, Jim and Clint, to see the new documentary, Becoming Led Zeppelin. The movie was shot in IMAX and is only being shown in IMAX theaters and, since our Regal IMAX in Midland closed last year, Lubbock is the closest place to see it. And it was well worth the nearly four-hour round trip.
The documentary details the back stories of each of the band’s four members with tons of never before-seen-footage and interviews, sit-down conversations with Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, and John Paul Jones, and audio recordings of John Bonham, who died in 1980. They talk about their childhoods, their musical influences, and their early years as studio musicians and, in Plant’s case, a gig-hopping bum. The stories and pictures are great–who knew that Jones and Page had worked together on the James Bond Goldfinger soundtrack? But the highlights were the footage from those very first Led Zeppelin concerts in 1969.
Those people in those tiny crowds had no idea what they were experiencing. Nobody played guitar in 1969 like Page did. It was revolutionary in every way. Every guitar player in rock and roll history who came after Led Zeppelin was imitating what Page started. Nobody ever hit the drums harder than Bonham, chocking up on those giant sticks and smashing the drums like they owed him money. Jones’ bass was actually a featured part of their style, not just a background rhythm necessity. And Plant’s vocals are disturbingly in your face. The whole thing was just absolutely glorious.
With Led Zeppelin, there is plenty to talk about it terms of bad behavior. They were legendary in some of the worst ways. But this documentary showcases the music. It’s all about the music–Jimmy Page’s vision, John Paul Jones’ amazement at Plant’s incredible vocal range, Bonham’s joy, Page’s insistence that Atlantic Records release no singles because Led Zeppelin makes albums, not singles.
My hope is that there is going to be another film. This one ends with the release of Led Zeppelin II in January 1970. Surely there’s a Part Two that documents the making of their fourth album with at least 30-minutes devoted to Stairway to Heaven alone.
If you’re in a town with an IMAX, go see it. If you’re in Midland and you’re driving to Lubbock, I’ll go with you.
In the meantime, here’s some of the earliest Led Zeppelin footage out there: Communication Breakdown in front of a bunch of kids who have no clue what they’re seeing.
In the middle of our drive to Lubbock, Carrie-Anne called to tell me that, after 80 agonizing days, our dear friend Shanna Byrnes was being released from the hospital! That was the most wonderful news of the whole day! The whole year! Shanna is home!
I do not have words that are appropriate to the occasion. I don’t know how to start telling you about this and, whatever I would write about it here, would not do justice to the eternal mercy and grace of God we are all experiencing for and with Shanna and David and their beautiful family. The doctors and surgeons told them three weeks ago there was nothing they could do for her. No options. The only thing that could save Shanna would be a miracle they couldn’t foresee.
Another dramatic reminder that all things are possible with our God. Praise him!
Of course, we know we’re never going to see Shanna again. She’s certainly going to write a best-selling book and go on a speaking tour all over the world. Before it happens, though, I’ve already asked for about six hours with her. I’ve got like four million questions.
About ten minutes after I digested that amazing news, our middle daughter Valerie called to tell me they moved her doctor’s appointment up to Monday because of all the snow they’re expecting today in Tulsa. And she told me the sexes of both of our future twin grandchildren! We already knew at least one was a boy because of the blood work, but now we know both!
And I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Sorry.
I’m not sure if Val wants us to wait for one more appointment in two weeks for another level of confirmation, or if we’re waiting on a photographer to take an Instagram-ready portrait for some official announcement. But I’ve been told to keep it to myself for now. If you’re really dying to know, maybe you could ask Jim or Clint.
And, yeah, yesterday was also Whitney’s birthday. She chose Texas Roadhouse as the site for the customary birthday dinner and we celebrated her and all the other things that made Monday a really terrific day.
Today is our daughter Valerie’s birthday–she’s 28–and I’ve got pictures! No, not of her. Of our two grandchildren she’s carrying!
Valerie saw her doctor again this week and we got some pretty amazing shots of the twins via sonogram. One of the little units shows up really clear–a little ham! Evidently, the kid on the left side is mainly behind his/her brother/sister and much harder to see. The second picture shows a precious little hand. How awesome is that!
Valerie says this picture below is the best one of both babies at the same time. But the shy one on the left, in Val’s words, is “upside down, so it’s mostly a booty shot.” If the backside is the most prominent feature, then it’s definitely got lots of Stanglin in him/her.
As always, you can click on any picture to blow it up a little bigger. And, in case you’ve missed it, we know from blood work that at least one of these babies is a boy. It’s either two boys or a boy and a girl. It is not two girls. I’m not sure when we’re going to get visual confirmation, but I can’t wait.
They both measured a bit longer than the doctor expected so they moved Valerie’s due date up to July 22. And, again, they’re likely to come a little earlier. Valerie is checking out in really good health and the two babies are in excellent shape and we are deeply grateful and incredibly excited.
You’re going to get sick of me showing you pictures of my grandchildren before they’re even born!
We’ve been given the go-ahead today to announce to all our friends and family some incredibly big news. Carrie-Anne and I are thrilled to let you know that our little middle, Valerie, and her wonderful husband, David, are expecting. And we’re not talking about just one grandchild. No, that would be too easy for our free-spirited, unpredictable, anything-goes daughter. They’re having twins!
We are beside ourselves with joy and gratitude. And we really don’t know how to act yet. We’re gushing with anticipation and almost giddy with excitement. The babies — it sounds so weird to talk about this with plural pronouns — are coming late June or early July. From chromosome counts and blood work, we know that one of them is a boy and the other one could be a girl. The only certain is that they are not both girls. And we can’t wait.
Please join us in celebrating with Valerie and David and our family, in thanking God for this shocking and beautiful blessing, and in asking him to protect these four in the coming weeks and months.
And, when Whitney tells you the news, act like you didn’t already know.
They managed to scrub all Christian thought and words completely out of the story, but last night’s “Eye on America” feature on the CBS Evening News highlighting our “4 Midland” partnership was still a positive message of unity in our divided world. And I thank God for it.
You know, our Lord told us that if we’ll love one another and come together in him, the world will take notice. Well, there’s nothing more worldly than the national news media, and they have noticed.
They used the word “tolerance” instead of “unity,” and they didn’t use any of what all four of us asserted as the motivation for our worship and service partnership: the fellowship we all share by the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. We’re not coming together out of a desire for tolerance, we’re uniting because our Lord told us to, because that’s his desire, his will, because that’s what he prayed on that last night, that all his followers would be as united as he is with the Father, so the world will know. That’s all we talked about with the CBS crew, but they didn’t use any of it.
The problem is that you have a very difficult time using the world’s methods to express the Gospel. The world is never going to preach Jesus or the ways of our God. It’s up to us, it’s up to followers of Christ. As we told the reporter, Jason Allen, on camera many times, if God’s people won’t unite in Christ Jesus, who will? As God’s children and disciples of Jesus, we are called, ordained by God, to express this unity in Christ to our world as a divine alternative to the way societies typically operate. I’m disappointed that Jesus was not the center of the story, as it is certainly the center of the friendship between us four pastors and the fellowship we share between our four congregations. Disappointed. Not surprised.
But, we can certainly celebrate small steps, little victories. Overall, it’s a very positive thing. It’s a start. And I’m grateful to Jason and his whole entourage for coming to Midland and spending parts of two days with us in order to tell our story. I pray that this helps affirm the things we are doing at GCR and, by God’s grace, the kind of church we want to become. And I pray the story can serve as an encouragement to our city and, who knows, maybe even widespread parts of the country. It’s a start.
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Here’s a photo of the three of us at the GCR Christmas Eve service Tuesday. We heard the bells! And then we went to Texas Roadhouse before going home to watch Albert Finney’s A Christmas Carol.
I’m writing to you from Carley and Collin’s kitchen in Flower Mound, the hub of our continued Christmas festivities. Carrie-Anne, Whitney, and I spent all day yesterday in Arlington with C-A’s side of the family and today we’re driving to Liberty City for quality time with my side. Since Carley and Collin moved back to DFW, their house has become a hotel for us: Kennedy Estates. I’m not sure it’s a blessing to them like it is to us.
Every other year, due to the fact that our two youngest daughters are married and have in-laws to whom they feel a certain sense of obligation, we are forced to do Christmas together on the Stanglin side at Thanksgiving. It’s always a chaotic four or five days, trying to cram all our long-held Thanksgiving and Christmas traditions into one weekend. The normally month-long rhythm of specific meals and particular movies and certain activities on specific days and nights gets condensed into a blur of too much, too soon, and too close together. Not to mention that I need to have all my Christmas shopping done by the third week of November!
We managed to pull it off pretty well, even with Valerie and David’s new dog that added a level of complexity.
Thanksgiving is always pretty normal with all the food and football, all the card games and conversation. But then Friday is both the day after Thanksgiving when we typically eat a big breakfast and follow it up with a pancake fight, decorate the tree and the house and watch It’s a Wonderful Life AND ALSO Christmas Eve when we go out to eat, open up the matching pajamas that Carrie-Anne gets for us, and watch A Christmas Carol while eating my pan-made stove-top popcorn and drinking Dr Pepper and eggnog. Dinner was at Ray’s and the intent was to watch both movies. We only made it through It’s a Wonderful Life. Albert Finney’s Scrooge will have to wait another year.
Saturday was Christmas morning. As is our tradition, we woke up the kids to Alvin, Simon, and Theodore turned up to 11 and opened gifts. The highlights for me included a beautiful little turntable and speakers, a very thoughtful gift from my girls and sons-in-law in light of the movers wrecking my antique turntable-stereo when we moved to Midland three years ago. Of course, I’ve already played my Boston “Don’t Look Back” album and Van Halen’s 1978 debut on the new setup. I also received an authentic Dallas Stars hockey sweater, complete with all the logos and an NHL “fight strap” on the inside back. When I put it on, I immediately felt the urge to crosscheck Whitney into the boards. For the remainder of Saturday morning, nobody in my family would stand between me and a wall.
The coolest thing we did Saturday was the Liberty City Rage Room in downtown Midland. This is one of those places where you pay money to break things. The idea is to take out your pent up aggression and rage on flower vases, crystal dishes, large mirrors, glass pitchers, and office equipment. We reserved four rooms for a little over an hour of breaking: a dining room, a bedroom, an office, and a room they just call “Smash It.” They dressed us up like Illumination minions–blue coveralls, hard hats, and goggles–gave us baseball bats, sledgehammers, and golf clubs, and let us loose.
Yes, I can report that it is truly liberating to toss a heavy ten-inch dinner plate into the air and smash through it with an aluminum baseball bat. Exhilarating. But doing it non-stop for 25-minutes to a variety of glassware, punch bowls, decorative bottles and vases, and glass serving trays is an indescribable thrill.
After the first two rooms, it was decided that we needed to put the women in one room and the men in the other. The girls were breaking things in a methodical way, taking turns, hitting stationary objects on a table one at a time. The boys were, as you can imagine, going at it with reckless abandon, full-body, all-at-the-same-time death lunges. Why just break a glass vase when you can get a running start with a bat and follow through with your total body force to obliterate it to smithereens? Silly question.
It turned out to be quite a workout, exhausting. Carrie-Anne’s enchilada and tamale dinner was the perfect interlude between what we did with those mirrors, computer monitors, and oversized bottles and what the Longhorns did to the Aggies at Kyle Field. The perfect ending to a truly wonderful day. Hook ‘Em.
So Thanksgiving has come and gone and, for us, Christmas too. It’s over. We worshiped together, everybody side by side on the same pew, at GCR yesterday morning, grabbed a quick lunch at Texas Burger, and sent the Richardsons and Kennedys on their way home. Weird. Awesome.
We don’t know what to call it. Thanksmas? Chrisgiving? Carrie-Anne hates Festivus because she says we don’t have any grievances to air. I guess I just call it good. Really, really good.
Our daughter Valerie flew into Midland this past weekend for one of those legendary GCR showers. Donna McGraw and her incredible team of long-time friends were joined by dozens of ladies from the Golf Course Road Church to throw an unimaginably over-the-top shower for the mother of my two grandsons. It was extravagant, by any measure.
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