“God could not be everywhere, so he created mothers.” ~ Old Jewish Proverb
On a literal level, we certainly disagree with the proverb. God is most definitely everywhere. But in a symbolic sense, I dearly love what the proverb proclaims because we do see our God in our mothers.
When our mothers cook for us our favorite meals, sew the patch in the knee of our blue jeans, or slip us the cash for the movie, they are reflecting the provision of our God who always meets the needs of his children.
When our mothers hold us closely through the thunderstorm, watch us as we cross the street, and insist on meeting all our friends, they are mimicking the protection we’re promised by our Father.
When they wipe away the tears and apply the Band-Aids and force the cough medicine down our throats, they are shadowing our God, the Comforter and Healer.
Our mothers love us unconditionally, despite the messes we make and the trouble we cause. Even when we don’t listen and we don’t behave, mom’s love never wanes. She disciplines us when we stray from the path. She forgives us when we wreck her carpet or her drapes. And she encourages us to be everything our God has created us to be.
Our mothers teach us right from wrong. They listen inexhaustibly. They rejoice in our success and our setbacks cause their hearts to break. They know what we’re going to say before we say it. Our mothers brag about us to their friends and defend us to our peers. They believe in us even when we don’t believe in ourselves. They lead us from in front and push us from behind.
And there’s nothing that could ever separate us from their love. Nothing. Ever.
Yes, our God is everywhere. But so too, it seems, are our mothers.
My longtime theory that a night at a Dallas Stars hockey game is better than a night almost anywhere else was stretched to it’s thinnest limit Thursday night as Winnipeg blasted our team 4-0. Our youngest daughter Carley and her husband Collin joined Whitney and me for the late-season matchup between the Central division’s top two teams, but it felt incredibly one-sided from the opening faceoff.
We took our pictures in front of the amazing Mike Modano statue in Victory Plaza. We loaded up on all-you-can eat popcorn buckets and limitless souvenir cups. And we got absolutely creamed.
When the score went to 3-0 early in the third period, somebody two rows behind us shouted, “Plenty of time, boys!” And the guy in front of him said, “Too soon!” Remember, just 48-hours earlier, the Vancouver Canucks had scored three goals in the final one-minute of regulation to tie the Stars and send the game to overtime where Dallas eventually lost. Yes, too soon.
When Winnipeg scored to make it 4-0 midway through the third, some lady one section over shouted, “We’re sorry about the tariffs! Four goals is enough! We’re sorry!”
It was that kind of night for Dallas.
Now they’re on a season-long five game losing streak, there are only two more games remaining in the regular season, and they can’t catch the Jets. The Stars are locked in to the number-two seed and will face the hated Colorado Avalanche in the first round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs that begin this weekend. I just hope they’re doing it on a two-game winning streak and not a seven-game skid.
Officially, I’m blaming Stephen Lowery for the slump. He went to the Pittsburgh game that started this five-game slide.
Scattershooting while wondering whatever happened to Bump Wills…
Thanks to Florida’s suffocating defense that kept Houston from even attempting a shot on their final two possessions, Tim Neale won our church office March Madness bracket challenge and I finished in second place. Tim is our back-to-back office champion, but we don’t know whether he qualifies for the free meal and dessert at our next staff lunch, or if we should buy it for his son, Seth. I finished as the runner-up. Andrew nailed down last place pretty decisively.
In other news, I won our Stanglin family bracket, finishing two points ahead of Whitney and six points ahead of last year’s champion, Carrie-Anne. That means Carrie-Anne’s bracket came off the front of the refrigerator first thing this morning and mine went up. It’ll be on full display in our kitchen for twelve glorious months. It’s just something we do. I’m not certain how healthy it is, but it’s just something we do.
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One of the several reasons we chose Emerson Elementary as a GCR local missions partner is that they are the MISD campus for “medically fragile” students. All Midland public school students from 7th grade down who have special physical needs go to Emerson where they have trained staff and facilities to take care of them. That part of the campus is equipped with hospital beds, oxygen, lifts, and everything that’s needed to support these most vulnerable in our community. They do incredible work at Emerson, work that most people know nothing about.
Our church recently purchased a special set of swings for the Emerson playground that meets the particular needs of those sweet kids. GCR bought the swings and paid for the playground expansion and the installation of the swings as just another piece of our partnership together. The swings were completed and unveiled last week, and our ministry team was invited to play with the kids on the new equipment this morning.
The sun was shining, the winds were calm, and the swings were swinging. The kids squealed with absolute delight and more than a couple of us joined them in being sad when it was over.
We are so thankful to God for our partnership with Emerson and so blessed by him to know so many wonderful teachers and staff who take such loving care of these precious children. We’re considering building into our work schedule some daily P.E. time at Emerson.
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Our youth minister, Jadyn Martinez, has been on mandatory bed rest for the past three weeks or so while she endures the final laps of a high-risk pregnancy. We’re missing her terribly around here, so yesterday we surprised her by showing up at her house for lunch. There was some fear that the surprise might raise her blood pressure and liver counts so that little Zion might come a week or two earlier than we need. But her doctor’s appointment late yesterday confirmed that everything’s still really good.
Except for Jim eating most of Jadyn’s chips, I think she enjoyed the surprise and getting to spend a loud lunch laughing together and getting caught up. Or she faked it really well.
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It was 34-degrees at Wrigley Field last night when the Rangers started their game against the Cubs. The wind chill was 23. And the Rangers were not good. Nasty Nate was uncharacteristically wild–two walks, two plunks, two stolen bases–and the Rangers bats were frozen in the 7-0 shutout loss. I’m not sure if that game has anything at all to say about where Texas might be in a month or two, or even at the end of the year. We’re not reading anything into an April game that was the second coldest in Rangers history. But how they respond tonight in equally frigid circumstances? What they learn and how they bounce back or not? That might could tell us something.
Josh Jung is off the DL and should be in the lineup tonight. I’m hoping that can help get this team over the Mendoza line.
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!
When our mothers cook for us our favorite meals, sew the patch in the knee of our blue jeans, or slip us the cash for the movie, they are reflecting the provision of our God who always meets the needs of his children.
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