Proposing to Krista - New Year's Eve - 1998

December 31st 1998 was important to me.  When I played basketball in university we always went to the University of Winnipeg tournament at Christmas and always came back on New Year's Eve.  This New Year's Eve was different for me.  It's the day I proposed to Krista.  I guess you could say that proposal started the summer before when I went on a trip with Athletes In Action (a Christian sports ministry) to India and Thailand.

Just before I left,  Krista and I had tension in our relationship. We had been together for a couple of years (with a few breaks in the middle of those years, but that's another couple of stories...) and we were coming to the point in our relationship where we needed to commit to each other for real, for good, or risk not getting closer, and thus more annoying to each other until we broke up. This will be really conservative and old fashioned to some of you, but I think you should be married before you live together and need that commitment to have a deeper physical and spiritual relationship.  I know that marriage today doesn't seem like much of a commitment anymore to about 50% of the population that gets married because that's the percent that gets divorced, but I still think this way. Like the other 50%.  Now don't let me act all pious and try and fool you that Krista and I remained "pure" in our physical relationship before we were married.  We messed around here and there, but I wish I hadn't now.  Either way, I didn't feel right about that physical stuff, neither did Krista, and we both knew that marriage was the next right step in both our minds.  We needed to commit to each other for our relationship to grow in ways that we both wanted it too, that just dating couldn't resolve.  We knew that to work on goals and dreams that marriage provided the platform we both wanted to see in place to foster those things.  The thing is, Krista knew this FAR earlier than I did. She was ready to marry me. (Poor Girl!) I was rattled to make that commitment.  I loved Krista, no question about it.  I honestly was just a little rattled at that big of a decision, and I had it in my mind that I needed to get a job, and graduate, and then once that worked out, then we could get married.  I honestly don't know why I had those ideas, but I did and they were real. 

Anyway, when I left for Athletes in Action training camp and said goodbye to Krista, I honestly thought, "This trip is going to tell the tale man.  You need to sort this out.  Depending on what happens on this trip in your emotions and thoughts, you have to make a decision."  I was looking for clarity.  Nothing like doing missions with a group of great guys to get your head on straight!  As it would happen, two of the guys on my team, Mano Watsa, and Derek Maat, had just been married and we talked a lot about it.  Mano said to me, "You have to think to yourself, when Krista is at her worst, do you still want to be with her?" My answer was YES, well maybe more of a Yes, not quite all capitals, all emphatic like that.  Another thing they talked to me about was that if you wanted to be with someone, then having a job, or being graduated doesn't amount to a hill of beans really.  If you want to be with someone, you go through things together.  Nothing else matters but being together.  Going through the struggles of life together is what marriage is really all about.  (High school kids in love, I don't think you quite know what "Going through life together" means yet, so don't get married in high school.)  Well, I remembered calling Krista, it was from India somewhere, and letting her know that I loved her so much, and I could marry her tomorrow.

Guys, let me tell you something.  Don't tell a girl that you are ready to marry her tomorrow if you don't have a plan for when that "tomorrow" really is.  I really did love Krista and I knew I wanted to marry her, but I didn't have money for a ring yet, and I was getting into my last season of basketball in university and I was trying to sort out when to ask this girl to marry me.  Krista wanted it to be immediate.  I DID tell her that I could marry her "tomorrow".  That meant tomorrow to her.  I don't think anyone would really accuse Krista of being a really patient person when she wanted something.  If they did, they she would be wrongly accused because she was not patient much of the time.

Anyway, the semester went on and I came up with a plan.  I was going to propose on New Year's Eve.  I bought a ring with my trusty buddy John Tschritter right beside me.  Then waited. The thing is, Krista was done waiting.  It was especially bad when her parents came to Medicine Hat (my hometown) for Christmas for both our families to be together and I did not propose.  Oh man, that was bad.  Her parents, sister and all my family knew when I was going to do it, but for her that was impossibly hard on her.  I remembered her saying to me, "When are you going to ask me?"  I remember saying, "Do you want it to be awesome or do you just want me to chuck the ring at you?"  Of course she didn't answer me because she knew it was rhetorical, but I also knew that I needed to end the rhetoric real quick.  REAL. QUICK.

Fortunately I left the next day for Winnipeg for the tournament, and here's how I proposed to my wife.

I left the ring before we left in the capable hands of Christine Rollingson, wife of my team mate and now everyone's favorite dentist, Tim Rollingson.  Why did I leave the ring with her?  Have you been to downtown Winnipeg?  I wasn't leaving that ring in my hotel room for 5 days to have it stolen or get lost.  The plan was for her to give me the ring when I got off  the plane when we got back.  After the tournament, in which I played awesome, (had to put that in because it's true, and I am hanging on to the fact that I once was an elite athlete)  we boarded the plane back to Lethbridge, and when we changed planes in Calgary, I bought a dozen roses from the airport florist.  When we flew back to Lethbridge, I gave each of the guys on my team one of the roses and they all came out of the plane in a line in front of me, each handing Krista a rose as they came out.  I wanted the guys on my team to be involved because they were like extended family to me.  She was so distracted by the roses that she didn't see Christine come and sneak me the ring. (Sidenote: when Krista and Christine were hanging out waiting for us, Christine stoked the fire by asking Krista, "So did Jared propose yet?" (all the while holding the ring in her pocket) Krista responded a bit dejectedly with a sigh, "No, not yet...")

All the guys gave her a rose, and then I came with the last one, got on one knee, and asked the question.  "Krista, I love you, will you marry me?" "YES!" was the answer, and then I tried put the ring on her finger.  Well, I tried to put the ring on her finger, but it was a little small.  "I can get it resized Krista, if it..."   "Jared, IT FITS." Krista JAMMED that sucker on there.  Hahahahaha, a couple days later she had to go to the jeweler, get it cut off because it was cutting off circulation, and then get it resized.  Remember that patience thing I was telling you about before?

My coach had called the Herald to let them know that I was going to be doing this and they came and did a story on it for the paper the next day.  He had someone video tape it for us too.  Thanks again Coach! That meant so much to me.  So who was the lead story on January 1st 1999? 

 

I will remember that day for the rest of my life.  I am sitting here crying right now, I wish I could look back at this with her.  I haven't cried like this for a few months.  I miss her.  I miss that smile.

Anyway, the rest of the night was vintage poor university student date material.  We went to Boston Pizza to celebrate and one of my buddies, Jason Peters, who is gold, had set up a little table out of the way for us. He had set a single birthday candle on a plate (with melted wax it stood up.) to provide mood lighting.  It was awesome.  We had dessert, and it was a great night. 

So, as you enter this new year, I hope your life is filled with love.  I am in a place now where I truly think I want something like this in my life again.  I don't know how that looks, nor do I know if I am ready for something like that.  I am sure that I think I want to be in a place where I want it though.  If there is nothing like this again in my life, I will be sad about that in some respects I think.  But, I will love life.  I feel very loved by my friends and family.  There is such a difference in being loved by someone where you feel special, the only one, set apart.  I miss being loved by, and showing love to, Krista.  Maybe sometime in my life it happens again.  Maybe not.

One thing I want young people in love and thinking about marriage or commitment to think about is this.  Is the person you are with someone you want to go through the hardships of life with?  Can you count on them?
Do you trust them with your soul?  With your heart's desires?  If you don't, don't commit to them.  Hold out for the person who you can do that with. (It may be the same person, just not right now.)  Look, no one is going to be perfect and everyone lets each other down once and a while. But, if there is a lingering doubt in the character of the other person, (you know what I mean, that doubt that you keep trying to convince yourself doesn't exist) don't put yourself in the spot to create pain in your life through the problem of mistrust. Being single is better than being trapped in a relationship where you are living in fear of what the other person's commitment is.  If you are married, and it has been some time since you felt connected on that level,  encourage you to work at it.  Get counseling, talk, go on a trip, do something to get back to why you married each other.

 

I will leave you with this.  I wish you a happy and healthy New Year! and if anyone wants to steal this idea to use as their own, I will gladly help you figure out the details.   I love this stuff. 

 

I Was Never Addicted To Crack.

Some friends of mine have been recently going through a mind melting hardship with an illness in their family.  I don't want to expand on it a ton because it's personal to them and their family and it's not my place to talk about their stuff.  I will say that it reminded me of something I have needed to get straight.

When Krista passed away, I needed God.  I wasn't happy with God, but I needed God.  They are two different things.  Sometimes you can have both, other times you can seemingly only have one.  One of my buddies, Sid Koop, was speaking the other day at church and he said, "Our level of excitement for a Saviour increases when we understand our need."  The level of understanding of our need for God, directly correlates to how excited we get when we approach our faith.

Again, I know that some people who read this will think this "God" talk is absolute poppycock.  Not the good "brand name" kind of Poppycock either.  You know, the great tasting caramel popcorn and nut mixture that I am sure many of you partook of during this Christmas/New Year's season. (Go buy some for your New Year's party, you won't be disappointed.  Unless you are allergic to nuts. In that case you would get an allergic reaction and be very disappointed.)  I suppose that I don't know if I can really speak to you on this blogpost because this post is about my need for God.  I think there is a God, and there's a lot that goes behind that thought (more than I can write tonight, and which are better written about in books like, C.S. Lewis' - Mere Christianity, and Tim Keller's - Reason for God), so you may or may not get a ton out of this.

That being said, I am not assuming that many of you who do believe in God will get much out of my ramblings tonight either, but that is neither here nor there.  This is about MY need for God.  I'll let you work out what you think for yourself.

Anyway...

I remember when I was a kid in youth groups and I remember hearing stories at retreats or concerts and stuff like that from people who came from rough situations.  I'm talking about drug addiction, alcoholic, homeless, criminal behaviour stuff.  I was always really uplifted by stories of coming to faith by these people who had NOTHING else, and they turned to God.  They realized their need for something greater than themselves and asked forgiveness from God.  Their lives turned around, dramatically in some cases, and they found themselves unable to keep quiet about their need for God.  They told everyone they knew.  Sometimes it became their life calling.  Sharing their stories to help young people steer clear of pitfalls they knew all to well, and to share that their reason for living was a relationship with Jesus Christ.

I would always feel really pumped up after those retreats, really excited about my faith, then, I would go back to my life the next week.  Sometimes in fact, I would leave the retreat thinking, "How the heck am I going to share my story of faith with someone?  I have never been within an inch of my life from a crack binge!", "What kind of a story do I have?  Kid from small southern Alberta, raised in the middle class, well fed, healthy, gone to church his whole life, accepted Jesus as his Saviour at age 6.  That is not going to headline any speaking tour!"  That would bug me from time to time.  More on that later...

Since I can remember, I have never been afraid to speak about my faith in God, I don't feel like I bludgeon people over the head with it. (some of you may tell me otherwise)  Never really was one for that style.  After those retreats I would get excited about how I could share my faith, or that maybe, God would show me a situation that I could speak too, and lots of people would come to care about God.  Slowly though, I would drift into everyday.  Sometimes you just forget your need.  Until some disaster happens, then I would get shocked right back into how much I need God.

I was reading an article the other day by a guy named Randy Alcorn.  He wrote a book called, "Heaven".  I read parts of that book when Krista passed away, and I appreciated how he looked at the Bible, and tried to sort out different possibilities on what different sections of Scripture could tell people about what that might look like.  Anyway, he was talking the other day about how when people ask, "Where is God?" in times of crisis, he sometimes wonders, "I wonder how much garbage God has protected us from today?"  He's not saying it in a pious, "I never question God and always look at the bright side because I am so spiritual" way.  He was seriously thinking, with all the capability in the world for wrong to happen, isn't it amazing that more stuff doesn't go wrong?  Maybe we need to think about that as well?  The problem is, we don't recognize a "normal" day as a "good" one until something devastating happens.  Any of you who have gone through tough times, were probably longing for a "normal" day because it would have seemed so much better than the crap you were going through. 

That's why I don't believe that you need to have some ridiculous conversion story to share what Christ means to you.  I think every person's story is real in it's own way.  We don't have to "jazz" it up just to share our faith.  We don't have to have a nice perfect little answer to everything either.  People reading this who don't believe in God, don't have perfect answers for everything either.  We need  to talk to, listen to, and try and understand each other.  Maybe we won't ever understand each other, but that is no reason to disrespect each other...

Basically what I started thinking tonight is that I am so thankful to God for what is normal now.  Three years ago, if you would have asked me what three years in the future's "normal" would look like I would have had no idea.  My idea would have likely been significantly less joyful than what a real day looks like now.  I don't want to forget my need.  I don't want to forget my blessings.  I don't want to sugar coat my troubles either.  I hope I can make the realization of my need for God more of an ever present thing than it has been lately.  Lately it's a, "Thanks so much God for what you have done in my life, but I might not think about you until the next time I say the grace for my food, or bedtime prayers." type thing.  That mundane thinking needs to stop.  I need to recognize my need.  How that looks every day will be different, but it needs to be there for me.  That's when I feel most "right".

Anyway, here's to you not having a "normal" week, but having a "good" week.  Not just because good things happen, but because maybe God is closer somehow this week.  I'm sure many of you reading this, did not need to read it because you are in a place where you feel God close, others of you may feel like me.  Some of you may feel like you want to talk more about why I think people need God.  Just send me a message and I would be happy to talk about it.

Have a good night.

Santa - To tell, or not to tell, that is the blogpost...

     When I was a kid, I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t put up the charade that Santa existed.  I remember being at a preschool or something like that when a Santa guy came in and gave each of us kids a present, and I was pumped because it was a sweet yellow race car with sweet yellow rims.  It was sweet.  It seems to me that as I think about it now, that I was a little skeptical that it was a legit Santa, but never said anything.  In fact, I’m going to phone my mom right now and ask her...

(5 minutes later)

... So the reason why I was a bit skeptical is because right from the start my parents told me there was no Santa (just got the info from my mom).  We were never told or sold the story of a fat guy in a red suit (which makes no sense because we all know that if you are overweight that you should have a black suit, because it's slimming...) who magically comes down a chimney with gifts, eats your food, and then breaks into your next door neighbour’s house version of Santa.  The idea is so weird.  Nowadays, if you were trying to make up a story that you wanted to become tradition, a man coming into your house while you were sleeping, creeping around and leaving packages in exchange for cookies and milk, would be a bad place to start.  It's flat out creepy. 

My mom and dad told my sister and I all about St. Nicholas, and the whole history aspect of it, and the tradition but never fooled us into believing the gift giving to every good child version.  

“That's terrible!” Some of you are saying.  "That's exactly how my family did it.", others of you are saying.  It's actually a pretty polarizing (hehe, that's a pun of sorts because of the North Pole and all...) topic.  I always discuss it with my classes when it starts getting close to Christmas.  I ask them how many of them were told that there was a Santa, and believed it.  Probably about 3/4 of the class is like that on average. Then I ask them, "How many of you were devastated when you found out that he did not exist?" Probably about a quarter of those say that they were rattled to the point of tears when they found out.  I always then ask, "How many of you are going to tell your kids that Santa is real?", and I am always amazed when most of the kids who got hurt the most let me know that they are going to tell their kids about Santa.

They are knowingly going to do something to their kids that they distinctly, and clearly remember as being a terrible moment in their life. "But, the good outweighs the bad. The magic of Christmas!  I want my kids to experience that.  I will love the look on their face when they are so excited that Santa has brought them a present." That's what those kids and other parents I know who are part of  "Team Santa" say, when I ask them why they would do that to their kids.  I guess the look on the face would be pretty priceless.  Imagination coming true is a pretty cool thing to allow a kid to have.

I am pretty sure that you can tell that I am not on "Team Santa".  Krista and I agreed long ago that we wouldn't tell our kids that he was real because we just didn't feel right about it.  I just didn't want to start out the early years of my kids lives by lying to them about where their presents were coming from.  I know that some people do stockings from Santa and some people do presents from Santa, but we both decided to not do anything from Santa to our kids because we didn't want to tell them something that was 100% not true.  I don't ever, EVER, remember being cheated because I received presents from my parents instead of a mysterious obese man.  My mom used to make scavenger hunts for my sister and I to rip around the house to find our presents, and when we got older we actually had to follow clues and drive around to get them.  (that ruled)  

Our kids have a blast when they get to Christmas morning.  They are happy to receive presents.  It's a great time. I have had many conversations with my kids about NOT telling other kids that there is no Santa.  It's not their job to tell other kids.  If another kid asks them a direct question about it, I tell them to tell that kid that they don't believe in Santa, but to leave it at that.  It is the job of that kid's parents to tell them the ins and outs of that truth when the time is right for their family.  The thing is, even if Jaxon mentioned in conversation why he didn't believe in Santa, namely because it's 100% not true, should the parents of that other kid even be mad?  Do they have a right to be mad about my son discussing the truth with someone?  I vote No.  If you are going to keep the facade of Santa going into the school years then you are playing with fire.  If your kid comes home devastated because someone told them that Santa didn't exist, then I think that's your fault as a parent for setting your kid up like that.  (Man, I really sound like I'm getting worked up here, and, I suppose I am.)  I hope Jaxon, Grace and Soph aren't the bearers of bad news for your kids, but if they are being asked directly, I won't tell them to lie just to save some kid's feelings.  I will always tell them to tread lightly on this topic with their friends because it isn't their job to go and tell everyone who doesn't believe.  That's just being a jerk.  But I will not tell them to avoid a direct question because that compromises their ability to learn what integrity is.  I think we would all like our kids to stand up for what is true and right.  Some people would argue that "truth" is different to different people, with regards to religious beliefs and stuff like that.  I understand your argument with that stuff, but NOT about something as false as Santa.  If I make my kids second guess themselves about something like that, I am setting a double standard early.  "Tell the truth about this, but not about that..." is kind of what I am saying.  I don't ever want them to be confused about when to tell the truth when it is being asked of them.

That all sounds rather serious and hardcore, but I guess that's the way I am on this issue.  Anyway, I know some of you will think I am a Scrooge for this stance on this subject.  Some of you will agree with me.  At any rate, here is a video by C.G.P. Grey that talks about where the North American version of Santa comes from.  If you are talking to your kids about it, it's pretty interesting. 

Here is another video of a Christmas tradition in Austria called Krampus. It's crazy.

I realized I just ranted.  Goodnight now.  Merry Christmas.

This Is The Start Of My Book.

This is the start of the book I am trying to write.  I think I am going to call it "AFTER KRISTA".  Here is a cover idea. I hope to have it done by the summer.  If you are reading this, thanks.  Unless you don't like it.  In that case don't ever talk to me again.  Just kidding of course.  I like acting like an idiot at times. (by the way, it's not really edited or anything yet, just basic right now)

Foreword

I don’t know if you are like me, but when I see a Foreword in a book, I want to just skip it and get into the chapters.  It’s like I don’t really think that it is part of the book or something.  However, I always feel guilty not reading the Foreword, so, I reluctantly start to read it and always feel better about it.  Like I actually read the book like a proper reader should.  I know that sounds a bit dumb, but that’s my brain.  I realize that the author wants me to have a background or a focus for their writing.  Some people just read the Foreword because it’s just what they do. 

 Anyway, for whatever reason you are reading this Foreword, I thank you because I want to make sure you get a couple things about me, and why I decided to write this thing.

I want you to know that I am not writing this book because I consider myself an “author”.  Even telling my friends that I was going to write a book felt weird.  I picture authors as smart people who have a great grasp of language and sort of bestow their knowledge on us. In reality they are people just like you and I that just decided to put their thoughts and stories on paper to share them.  Some are awesome, some, not so much, and I have no idea where I fit on the spectrum.  I’m pretty sure I’ll find out that out after I finish.

To say that I hope you like this book would be a strange thing to say considering the topic.  The word “like” can mean so many different things.  What I really hope is that through my sharing of my experiences in marriage, kids and rough times, that you can understand that you are not alone and that you can take comfort in that.

 

After my wife Krista passed away three years ago, I started writing thoughts that came to me, and it helped me to sort out how I wanted to deal with things that would come my way in the future.  I had to  reflect on how I had dealt with situations before Krista died and evaluate what I needed to keep and what I needed a change in perspective on.  I started writing a blog, and I wanted to flesh things out in a greater fashion.

I’m almost done the Foreword.

What I really hope you understand is this.  I do not think I know everything.  I write because I want to explore the things I want to know and these are my thoughts. The thing about thoughts is that they can change based on your experience.  The thoughts you have in the future may not be the thoughts you had 10 years, 5 years, 10 minutes ago.  These are a collection of my thoughts now, and I know I will continue to think about them as my life continues, however long that is.

1 – Where do babies come from?

On August 26^th 2009, my daughter Sophie was born.  She is third of my three children.  Jaxon was 6 and Grace was 4 at the time Soph was born.  I tell you, there is not really anything more beautiful than seeing your wife give birth.  Wait.  That’s not really true at all in one sense of the word “beauty”.  In that sense of the word, the striking/good-looking/gorgeous sense, there’s probably nothing much worse than child birth if we’re being honest.  There’s a lot going on there that wouldn’t be considered beautiful in that sense.  You know what I mean though.  I am talking about when a child is anticipated and desired.  When people take seriously the magnitude of what it means to bring another life into the world.  That is significant.  That’s when it’s a beautiful miracle.  The thing that is crazy to me about kids is all that needs to happen to have them arrive.  I’m not talking about sex either.

Krista and I met in university.  I was from Medicine Hat Alberta Canada.  Yes, my hometown is called Medicine Hat.  It stems from a battle that was fought between two native tribes on the banks of the South Saskatchewan River and when the Medicine man from the Cree tribe lost his Hat the battle was over and then the Europeans who settled there called the town Medicine Hat.  Jay Leno mentioned Medicine Hat in one of his monologues where he mocked the name, and we have the largest teepee in the world there along with about 60,000 people.  It really is a lovely city.  I suppose my description isn’t doing it justice, but that isn’t really the point of this book.

Krista was from Calgary Alberta, Canada.  It has about 1 million people.  It is home to two professional sports teams you may have heard of.  The Calgary Flames of the NHL (National Hockey League), and the Calgary Stampeders of the CFL (Canadian Football League).  It is home to the Calgary Stampede which is a pretty big deal there.  It’s a big, week-long fair that involves a rodeo, carnival games and rides, bands, and a whole bunch of people dressing up like cowboys.  Many of said cowboys like to get really hammered too.  It’s a pretty big party.  The majority of these people never dress up as cowboys again the entire rest of the year, but it unfortunately gives the impression to foreigners who visit during that time that everyone is a cowboy.  I swear, if anyone ever had a layover in Calgary and got their impression of what a Canadian was by the airport gift shop, they would think that all we did was eat maple syrup, and ride around on horses. Or bulls.

Krista and I met when we were both recruited to play basketball at the University of Lethbridge.  I’m a general science major (Biology/Chemistry/Archaeology (Physics to start, but when math turned from numbers to letters, I was out)) and she was an English major who had a minor in partying.  In fact, I’m pretty sure it was the other way around...

...and it will continue from there.  Thanks for reading the start to a book.

A book? What are you thinking man?

I like writing my thoughts down here.  It allows me to process stuff that I am thinking and from people's comments to me, it sometimes let's people know that they are not alone in their thoughts, and through that, it let's me know that because they think similar things that my thoughts are not crazy.  It also allows me to write long run-on sentences like the one previous to this one.

Some people have told me that I should write a more comprehensive collection of thoughts like this.  Some people would call that a book.  I would call it a collection of thoughts because if I told people and myself that I was going to write a book I think I would sound like a guy who thinks they have some sort of knowledge about stuff.  I would think that guy would sound like he thought he knew what was going on, and since I don't and I just think stuff, I wouldn't like anyone to think I was telling them that I thought I was better than them, thereby giving me the right to write a book.

That all being said, I'm going to write a book this year.  It's going to be an expanded look at some of the thoughts I thought in my blog here, and it's going to also have some other thoughts that I need to get down before they fade into the shadows of my mind.  Things about marriage, parenting, faith, teaching and whatever else I need to sort out.  The fact that some of the stuff is already fading in certain ways is encouraging, because that means that my life has hope and purpose, but really scary and sad, because so much of my life with Krista was awesome.  I feel like I need to sort that out before I can enter the next stage of my life.  Whatever that means.  I feel like I need to write things that are meaningful to me so that if I ever enter into another relationship I remember what important things I have been taught this past while.  I also want my kids to know their mother in a positive and real way, and maybe someday when they may want to read their old dad's thoughts about crisis, they can understand it in a way that explains to them why I was the way I was when they were young.

I'm going to shutdown Facebook for awhile. (Although from time to time I will probably use it to contact people who don't have twitter or I don't have your other info...) It is such a great way for me to have fun connecting with many of the people I know and love, but I feel like I have been connecting with that area of my life more than I have been connecting with God.  My faith in God is so important to me as you would know if you read any of these things the past while. I feel like when I am talking to other people via e-mail, Twitter, Facebook, Text, phone more than I am talking to God then even though it is a good thing, I need to reexamine my use of those things and I think Facebook needs to beat it for awhile.  If anyone wants to get a hold of me I will obviously be available on all those other things. (@jheiding is my Twitter handle)

I'll probably still blog from time to time (not that any of you are waiting on bated breath for a blog post...) but I feel like this is something I am supposed to do and it's probably going to take a lot of work because I sometimes have a hard time finishing what I set out to do.  If you could pray for me, (if you are the praying type) that would be great because as I am writing this it all seems a bit silly to me that I would set out on something like this.

Please be sure that I do not think I know more than anyone else, I just like talking with people.  I just do.  I know that a book is more like talking at people, but I think it's a great way to share my experience with other people that have had something similar, and that way, we all get a little closer because there are a lot of similarities between all of us.

Anyway, if you read this blog from time to time I really do appreciate it, and appreciate the encouragement that many of you have been to me as I chuck thoughts out there.  Here we go...

Whatever You Want To Eat Christmas Eve Supper

Anybody ever notice that when you get a new vehicle or phone, or something like that, that you start noticing other people who have the same thing you have?  I started noticing so many other minivans like mine, that I had never noticed before I purchased the Swagger wagon.

When Krista passed away I originally thought that I was the only one in my position, when really I wasn't at all.  I started to hear multiple stories about people right in my town who had very similar situations to me.  One of my friends had lost her husband a few months before I lost Krista.  Her kids were "grown" (as they say) but both of us were feeling similar things so we helped to start a group for people who lost their spouses.  It was more focused on people who lost their spouses and were still raising kids.  It was extremely helpful to join together to discuss what we were each going through.  Relationships are so important in life.

I recently had two separate conversations talking to two different friends of mine who had lost their husbands in very tragic accidents. The accidents were pretty recent in their lives and they are working out so many similar things that I have thought about.  (For the record, I am in awe of both of these women because they are awesome and they love their kid(s) and are doing the best they can in their situations. They are so great.)We have had multiple conversations but these discussions were focused on Christmas.  We were discussing the what's, how's, where's, and why's of how we approach this holiday in light of our changed circumstances, and all the emotions that goes with those thoughts. 

Krista loved Christmas.  Our tree was always up by the third week of November.  (If any of you are lactose intolerant be prepared to get bloated because it's going to get a little cheesy for some of you, but I really like cheese especially  if it's used in the right recipe, or context, whatever, I'm digressing too much...) Even though I don't like hauling all the decorations up, I do love once the house is decorated and there are tons of white mini-lights on the tree and on the top of our cupboards.  Drinking peppermint tea out of a really nice red Christmas mug just tastes better for some reason.  The ambiance the decorations provide makes me feel safe and cozy. (Cheese over.) We decorated last weekend, not because I necessarily wanted too, but because we had a long weekend it was the best time before the crazy busy time between late November and Christmas.

I don't know if love for Christmas is genetic, but the other day Grace made a very strong case for it.  (She inherited it from her mother of course.)  Jaxon asked me, "Dad, why are we putting up all  this stuff right now?"  Grace, in the cutest, little Cindy-Lou Who voice says, "It's never too early to start getting ready for Christmas."  (Tear in my eye due to the cuteness. (By the way, that's not going to work when she wants a car when she's 16, "It's  never to early to start asking Daddy for a car." Actually Grace, yes, yes it is...))

Some of you reading this right now may hate Christmas and all the jazz that goes with it.  Maybe you had a rough event happen in your life at this time.  Maybe you have lost someone and it was never the same after.  Maybe you don't like the money grubbing marketers and the business that Christmas has become. (I can agree with you there.)  Maybe you don't like that it's called Christmas because you don't believe in Christ. (I can disagree with you there.)  If you don't like Christmas you probably have a reason.

I have already established that I enjoy Christmas time and so did Krista.  I really had to sort out some questions about how my family was going to approach the first Christmas without Krista.  I had no idea.  I did know that I wanted to stay in Lethbridge and have the family come here for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day because it was easier with Soph being 4 months old. That wasn't the only reason though.  I also wanted to be in that space because I needed to feel whatever emotions came.  I needed to know what I was going to go through without her during this time, in this space, in our home.  That was what I needed, others may need different things to deal with our hurts, but that was what I needed.  Even though I wanted to take it all in, I didn't want to make it an inevitably crappy time.  I did not want all of our Christmas time as a family to be negative, but I didn't know what I was going to do.

After Krista passed away, my family received some money from friends, family, and supportive people to hire a cleaner for a once a week clean job of the house.  Just to help me out.  It's not like I had never cleaned before, or that I was a slob, it's that it is so busy with a newborn and a couple other ones, that they knew it would be a blessing for me.  IT WAS.  Dang that was gold.  Kristina came to clean my house and helped me not only in practical "My house is clean, thank the Lord!" kinds of ways, but we would have great talks about life and moving forward and about good books that helped us out.  (sidenote: her husband Mark, is a great photographer and all around good guy too.)  One day we had a talk about Christmas and traditions.

Traditions are something I knew Krista loved.  She very much wanted our family to have traditions the kids could look back on with fondness. (yep I just used fondness...)  I did not want the first Christmas without Krista to be a Christmas where the only new tradition was the fact that mom wasn't there and we sat around crying with no hope.  I think we can all agree that a tradition like that would have been garbage.  Kristina mentioned to me that her family had a tradition of a "Whatever You Want To Eat" meal.  Literally she said, each person would pick a food and they would make whatever people wanted, put it all on the table and people could have at the whole lot.  I LOVED that idea.  I don't know if Kristina knew this, but her idea helped my family through that first Christmas.  Now, every Christmas Eve we have this meal.  This crazy meal.  The first one included, mashed potatoes (Grace), pepperoni pizza (Jax), lobster (my mom, dad, and me), formula (Soph just had that, no one else was partial to formula...) and I honestly can't remember what else, but I remember we had a good time coming together as a family to make it all.  We did something that we worked together on, and it was fun.  It was also a tradition, something I knew Krista would have loved, and that made me feel great. Well, greater than I would have felt otherwise.

Don't get me wrong, that first Christmas, and every Christmas we have had since Krista, has been a bit strange in my heart, but we still have good in it. There is love in it.  I hope that if you hate this season for whatever reason, that you can break out of it, even just a little, with something new for you.  I think this probably goes for any/every season you have a hard time dealing with.  Sometimes each day is hard to deal with when we are going through uncertainty.  I hope and pray you have a chance to change your routine in a way that dissipates your pain.  If not, you're invited over for the Heidinger, "Whatever You Want To Eat Christmas Eve Supper."  We're always ready for some new guests...

When I Get a Clone, and Jaxon following in my footsteps...

Jaxon likes to talk.  Especially when he is in his bed and getting tucked in and I want him to want to sleep, my son loves to talk.  He usually asks me about my childhood.  Stuff like, "What was your favorite thing to do when you were little Dad?",  "What did you like in school when you were a kid Dad?".  Tonight he asked, "What is the most interesting thing to you Dad?"  I'm like, "What's the most interesting thing to me?", "Yes, Dad."  Hmmmmmm, now that is an interesting question with many different answers depending on mood, place in life and all kinds of other jazz.  But because I have been talking about genetics and reproduction and cloning with my classes lately, I settled on this one.  "Jax, the most interesting thing to me is that you and your sisters are the only ones like you that there ever were, there ever are, or ever will be.  Not just you but all of us.  Even identical twins don't act exactly the same."    Jax, "But Dad, Carter(one of Jax's best buddies) said that I kinda look like Nate(one of Jax's other best buddies)."  "O.k. Jax, but you are still the only you that will ever be, and that's pretty cool."  (For the record, Jax looks nothing like Nate.)

Then Jax says this, "Dad, do you want me to follow in your footsteps?"  Like I said, Jax likes to talk and ask philosophical questions like this or make philosophical statements about life, and always right before bed.

Now before I go any further I want you to be sure that I am analyzing myself right now and getting near the point of annoyance with myself for even writing this because I don't want anyone to think that I am always the patient father who fosters this little warm moment with my kids every night.  It's not like we gather around the fire where we sip warm nighty night tea and calmly flip through the pages of a nice book or the Bible or something and all snuggle and discuss the philosophy of life.  We do snuggle, but it's always while we watch an episode of Phineas and Ferb (one of the greatest cartoons ever).  Then it's usually me saying "O.k. let's brush teeth!" with an elevated volume because I am so done at the end of the night that I just want a couple of hours to do whatever I want.  "Come on, come on, hurry up guys, it's bedtime." You know, that kind of thing.  I try and be patient, but some nights I end up feeling like a hammer because I am so impatient. I was being impatient tonight.  I just wanted my responsibilities to be done for the day you know?  Of course, as we are coming upstairs for bed, Grace tries to do some dance move and cracks her finger getting up from the floor. Tears. I get her sorted (sort of) then go and help Soph brush her teeth.  Then I put her on the toilet before bed, and as I am helping her, she smokes her head on the counter.  Tears.  Get her sorted, she's fine, Grace's finger still hurts, but the girls are in bed and I tuck them in, get Jax in bed, start talking, then the girls start calling for me. Now I wanted to lose it, I'm just tired.  Just in that instant I wanted MY time.  The only thing that stopped me from doing that was to remember I thought I would write a blog thing tonight, and I remembered back to one of my other blog posts about being patient, "There's only 10 minutes left..." I had to say to myself and then I was able to tuck the girls in.  No more tears, then start really tucking Jax in, and then that is when he asked me that good ol' doozy of a philosophical question.

Basically, I will not allow you to have the impression that I am that annoying perfect parent who is always doing the right thing and who gives you the impression that their kids are perfect too.  I think I do the best that I can and I get a lot of stuff right.  But as soon as I get something right, I get something wrong, and I think that is pretty much a lot of parents out there.  So I hope you get the message.  I don't want you to think that I think that I am awesome.  Handsome yes, awesome no. (That was a joke there.)

Daggnabbit!  I digressed a GIGANTIC amount just there.  Anyways, back at the ranch......

So Jaxon says, "Dad, do you want me to follow in your footsteps?"  and being the perfect parent that I am, (that's a joke just there...) I said some stuff.  I actually felt like it was one of those moments where the words just came out.  Sort of like God went, "Hey Jared, I'm just going to take over here because if you try and come up with something it may just be a bit convoluted so just go with this..." (I know that some of you don't believe in God, but I do, and that's what it felt like to me.)

I said, and it is truly what I believe, "Jaxon, I want you to grow up to be you.  I hope you learn some things from me, just like I learned from my parents, but you will grow to be a man who is going to make his own decisions.  Sometimes the hard part of life is learning who you are. But the cool thing is you are you, and you are the only one like you ever.  I hope you become someone who loves other people, and who grows closer to God as you do that."  I really want that for my son.

What does that have to do with cloning?  In my class we I always pretend that one kid in the class is going to be a mother of my clone.  Now, if you don't know how the process works, Here's a short lesson. By the way, there haven't been human clones as of yet, even though I am certain that somewhere in the world someone is working illegally on it.  I use the example to explain the idea of the how scientists cloned a sheep from the udder cells of an adult sheep.  Making a genetically identical copy.  If we could do something like it to make a clone of Jared it would go something like this (this is way oversimplified too, but bascially the idea):

1. Harvest an egg cell from a female (who will be the surrogate) and remove her DNA from the egg, essentially making it blank.
2. Take a cell from me, for the ease of example, a skin cell.
3. Fuse those cells together in a petri dish.
4.That egg cell now "believes" it is fertilized and will start dividing.
5.After a small number of divisions, place the new embryo into the uterus of the surrrogate\
6.Nine months later the surrogate gives birth to a baby Jared.

The kid wouldn't be 6'5" Jared, it would be a baby Jared.  Literally it would be me. Well, genetically at least.  One of the great questions we ponder after this little thought experiment is, "What would we turn out like if we were raised again?" I mean, it would probably be tough to raise yourself, there aren't any parenting books for that.  Well not until I write one anyway. But seriously, have you thought about what you would be like if you were raised in a completely different environment than you were before?

The thing is, some things would turn out the same, because your genetics are a huge part of you.  But, scientists don't actually know why you are the way you are. What is the ratio of nature (genetics) and nurture (the way you were raised?)  No one truly knows.  That is pretty crazy, but as they say, "It is what it is."

I think it is truly a miracle that we exist.  It really is the most interesting thing to me.  That each of us is the only one that will ever be born onto this place.  This human life is of value.  I don't know why we are here.  As someone who believes in Jesus and God, there is still no answer anywhere in the Bible that can definitively tell us WHY.  We're here because we're here.  Whether you believe in creation or evolution or seeding by aliens, you are here.  That is the point.  There is purpose to you.

Some of you may be really bitter about who you are. I'm not just talking about looks and superficial stuff like that.  I'm talking about those of you who have had a disease, or know someone close to you who has suffered.  "Why was I like this?",  "Why me?" are questions I think all of us ask.  They are all legitimate from time to time.  There are somethings that leave people in pain the rest of their lives.  One of my friends is a soldier who was in Afghanistan with the Canadian Military.  He was a gunner and went through a lot of tough stuff over there.  He had a lot of stress and lost a lot of buddies in his efforts to protect and help people less fortunate than those of us over here.  That stuff hurt him. He went through a tough time, and a lot of thinking and he decided that he wanted to come out the other side of the darkness and continue to live with purpose.  My mom has chronic fatigue syndrome and fibromyalgia and she lives through really tough muscle pain that ebbs and flows everyday.  She doesn't like it, she's not always upbeat about it, but the majority of the time she fights through it so that she can have a positive impact in the lives of families of my sister and I, not to mention many friends she has.  I admire people who fight through tough things.  I think one common theme between all of them is that they have made the choice to not live in fear of the future.

None of us can predict the future.  Having a healthy understanding that we need to plan a bit for our future is good, but fearing that unpredictable future is crippling.  As much as we can't predict the bad that can happen in the future, we can't predict the good either.  That is an encouraging thought.  I have had multiple times in my life where I have had trouble sleeping because I was worried about something, only to realize that when I finally got to the situation I had been worrying about, it was either different than I expected, or not as bad as I had dreamed up. I'm sure many of you have had the same thing.  Let me ask you this,  when was the last time you had trouble sleeping because of all the unknown good that could come your way then next day?  Probably not too often.  I never would have dreamed of meeting Krista, it happened.  When I was a kid I never would have dreamed of having three great kids. It happened.  (I know people that read this may be going through really hard times right now.  I just want to encourage you to remember that not every moment in the future is going to forever be horrible.  If everyday is horrible right now, I will pray for you, and I don't know exactly what that does, but I will pray for peace in your life.  I want to support you in that.  Send me a message and I'll do that, or anything else I can.  But if you don't want to do that, please trust me.  Things can be better at some point.  I hope that comes soon for you.)

This was a long post, you probably stopped reading long ago.  If you are still reading, I hope you and I can both believe what I told my son.  I honestly think I was talking to myself just as much as I was talking to him.  Here is my hope for you and I, but I will write it in the context of you just because I want to: 

I hope that you grow up to be you, that sometimes the hard things in life are figuring out who you are.  That you are truly a miracle just because you are the only one like you ever, and I hope you grow to love others and grow closer to God while doing it.

Goodnight. 

Jared.

"GIVE ME THE PORN!" - Things that weren't funny at the time, but...

I am sure that many of you will stop reading this as soon as you realize I am not focusing on pornography in this post, although it is in a story. Keep reading and you will laugh.  Guaranteed.

All of us have memories of times in our life where something has gone dreadfully wrong and was not funny, only to brew itself, over time, into a great story.  Sometimes people, usually older people (I mean people a generation above you), or acquaintances that don't know what else to say, will try and help ease your stress when you are in a tough situation by looking at you in the eye and saying, "Oh well, this will be one of those things you will laugh at someday, right?"  Depending on your perception of how far along the "things are going to turn out O.K." continuum you are,  you may either agree with them, or, you may just want to punch them right in their annoying eye because you aren't even close to wanting to laugh about it yet.

I think the two factors involved in how quick we can "laugh at something" are time to resolve, and the level of "everything turned out O.K."ness of the situation.  In terms of time, some things need minutes, some, months and some, years, to get worked out to where we consider them O.K..  Usually the laughability level of a story is due to the linear relationship of the amount of time, to the amount of O.K.ness a situation ends up with.  Basically, the faster things work out for the good, the less time there is needed to be able to laugh about it.  When things go really wrong, but quickly resolve themselves to be O.K., the story is usually really funny.  (Ask me sometime about saying "I'd teach for free." It's a funny story, but only because it worked out sweet.)

I think we can all agree that when things go bad and stay bad they aren't funny.  When things go bad but turn out alright, usually we can laugh at them.

One story comes to mind immediately when I start thinking about situations like this.  Krista's first job was teaching Grade 8 at Wilson Middle School in Lethbridge.  Now for those of you who haven't taught middle school, it can be a challenge.  All teaching is a challenge in different ways and I think all teachers who are being honest can agree that teaching has approximately the same workload although it is completely different from Grade 1 to Grade 12 in the duties and the way those are distributed throughout each day, night and weekend.  All teaching is hard, fun, devastating, stressful, hopeful, joyful, time consuming and a whole bunch more other things that I don't feel like describing anymore because they aren't the point of this blog.  In particular, middle school teachers have to deal with kids who are hitting puberty, figuring out who they are, how they want to express themselves to develop an identity and other things relating to behaviour and identity that make junior high especially challenging from a classroom management perspective.

Krista taught a group of grade 8's that were sometimes a handful, and she would come home exhausted some days just from working out the best ways to present students with the opportunity to learn, while managing those students who made that a hard goal to achieve.  I want to be clear that Krista liked all those kids, but some days pushed her patience.  Like this one...

Krista had been teaching a lesson, (I can't remember which one) when she noticed a small crowd developing at the desk of one of her students at the back.  She approched them with an, "O.k. guys, what's going on?"  As she got closer, she assessed that the focus of their attention was a magazine.  A magazine with naked women in various poses.

She proceeded to tell them, "Guys you need to give me the magazine."   "No.", was the response.  "GUYS, give me the magazine." "NO!"  Krista proceeded to grab the magazine, but the student would not let go.  Now I forgot to mention that the student was a boy about my size. Literally.  The kid was in grade 8 and was about 6'4" and I bet he was 180 to 200lbs minimum, no joke.  Grade 8.

Krista grabbed the magazine with both hands and a tug of war began with Krista yelling, "GIVE ME THE PORN!  GIVE ME THE PORN!"  Well, the kid wouldn't let go, and as Krista looked around she saw a student at the front of the room with scissors ready to cut the hair of the girl in front of him, as well as across the room another wonderful little child was preparing to stab another kid in the arm with a pencil.  The way she described it was nothing short of brilliant.  She said at that moment she had a sort of "out of body" experience.  It was like everything went to slow mo as she saw the disaster brewing and she thought to herself, "Is this really happening? Am I tug of warring (word?) with a huge 13 year old while yelling "GIVE ME THE PORN!!!" right now?  This is not what I signed up for as a teacher..."  Well she got the porn, she settled the class down, I can't remember what discipline she used on the kids but she worked it out, and although it wasn't funny at the time, it was FRICKIN' hilarious once it was all worked out and she told me the story that night.  Oh man we laughed hard about it that night.  We laughed multiple times about that story.  Man I miss her laugh. I really do. (Ah crap I was just laughing and now I have tears in my eyes, and I am in Moxie's, hide face...)

I ended up teaching some of those kids a few years later at Churchill, and I could tell that they had always liked Krista.  I knew they respected her.  Kids just do some dumb things sometimes, sometimes they don't mean anything by it.  Krista cared for those kids, and they knew it.  She was undoubtedly one of the lights in those kids' lives.  As a teacher I feel honored that I can do a job where I get to hang out with kids and maybe be an encouragement in their day.  Some kids have some serious garbage that they come to school with.  Divorce, alcoholic/druggie parents, no food, physical/sexual abuse, illness in the family, illness in their own bodies, self-image issues, identity issues, pressure/fear of what the future holds, academic pressures.  Man there's a lot.

For a teacher, I think there's nothing much better than seeing a kid smile because they're having a good time and learning.  Krista loved that and when she taught she tried to bring joy to a kid's life.  Krista taught in elementary as well and her favorite position was when she taught Grade 1 at Mike Mountain Horse Elementary.  I know she touched the lives of the kids there too.  I was so encouraged when I received a letter after she passed away from a parent of twins that Krista had taught.  They couldn't say enough about the role she played in the lives of her daughters.  Krista was a light in the lives of her colleagues as well and those people at Mike Mountain Horse Elementary did so much for us after Krista passed away, I didn't really have words for it.   Thanks to any of you who may read this.

To be a light in someone's life is an honour.  I sometimes forget that.  I sometimes get wrapped up in my own things.  Krista wasn't perfect, she wasn't always happy and all that jazz, but I think you know where I am going with this.  She was definitely someone who people would define as being a light in their world.  Being an encouragement to others is something that we should all strive to do more of.  Everyone can be an encouragement to somebody.  I honestly believe that.  You are the only one like you on this planet.  You have a role to play in this place that no one else can perform.  You sometimes may not feel like you are special, and I know it's frickin' cheesy to say this, but you are special.  You really are.  Try and make someone else feel that way and you will see your purpose more and more.  I believe that.