A Wedding, A Family, A Song

    This past weekend we were in San Antonio, Texas, for William’s wedding to Maria Jose Fernandez. Two young lovers, two families, two cultures--too wonderful. As you would expect, everything was beautiful. Maria was stunning, Will was handsome, the parents were proud, the crowd was joyful, the weather was perfect, the Lord was smiling.

    According to their custom, we gathered at the Fernandez house the next day after the wedding. This was a family gathering. The bride and groom were present in the gathering along with extended family. Of course, conversations were about the wedding but also about getting acquainted with one another. Tulancingo, Mexico meets French-Canadian, Arab, Californian, Scotch-Irish, Southern Americans.

    Maria’s parents Jaime and Laura were gracious hosts, attending to everyone from both families. After many of the guests left, only a few remained and we sat around in a relaxed circle, contented and tired. Maria’s grandfather Adolfo Martinez took the guitar and began to strum and sing several Mexican songs. All sat and listened, some sang along, all enjoyed.

    As he began one certain song, Jaime translated for me, explaining that Adolfo had composed this song for the family. It was a song that carried the family story and praised the values that were at the core of who they were. The song ended with words to the next generation about staying the course, working hard, being honest, honoring what is honorable, and finding your place in life and society. The patriarch had infused the moment with meaning and substance. Music, story, and purpose were all wrapped up in one meaningful moment.

    It was the kind of moment that earth overlooks while heaven applauds. Quiet, unassuming, yet penetrating and powerful within the family. My hat is off to Adolfo Martinez. He hit the target.

    Perhaps you remember a simple way that your family passes on heritage, culture, and values. Please feel free to share a comment; we would all benefit.

Discipline Mistake #5: Never call a practice

A Tale of Two Coaches

I played Little League Baseball four years, ages 9-12. Coach Thomas was a perfectionist. I remember him teaching us how to “hookslide” over and over in practice. Rarely, someone would get it right and he would make them freeze while he taught the rest of us. Once that year, I rounded second base heading into third and the throw was coming in toward the home plate side of the third base bag. I focused on sliding out and away from the bag just letting my toe catch the corner. The third baseman tagged the ground in front of the base, but I was beyond the tag. Safe! Coach Thomas was clapping his hands; it had worked just like he taught us. I loved the hookslide, I loved Coach Thomas, I loved baseball.

After Little League, I played Babe Ruth baseball, ages 13-15. The rules were different, the bases longer, the players better. Coach Harris was too busy to practice with us; so most of the time practice was cancelled. One season we had only two practices the whole season. When we started the games, he would call time out and tell us what to do. He might yell at us across the field. He changed our positions several times, trying to find the winning combination. He never found it. He was frustrated, we were frustrated—every game. When I finished my final year of Babe Ruth, I walked away from baseball. I had lost my love for the coach and for the sport.

Some parents are Coach Thomas parents. Coach Thomas parents take some time to think about the game of life and prepare their kids for what’s ahead.  “When you meet a bully, look him in the eye.  When you are tempted to cheat, pray for strength. When you are making decisions, seek counsel. When you are discouraged, trust God and do something for someone else.” These kids are going to face the crises and understand what to do.

Coach Harris parents are always expecting their kids just to know what to do, but the rules are changing, the stakes are higher, and the kids don’t know their positions yet. When bullies show up, they look away for help. When they are tempted to cheat, they are unclear and give in. When making decisions they procrastinate. When they are discouraged, they give up. When Coach Harris parents try to teach in the crisis, it sounds more like criticism than help. They are frustrated and their kids are, too.

Having used each of these methods at different times, we decided that the Coach Thomas method is better. We hope that you will, too. Why don’t you share a comment about how you are preparing your kids for the game of life?