Cantigny

My work car needed new rear tires. I considered switching to this car.

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It comes with an intimidating security system.

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I can use that new car to tow my boat.

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Here is what we use for family transportation. The kids love it.

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"Dad, this is so cool, it'll blow your mind."

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The kids can fully recline to sleep on long trips.

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These pics were from a recent visit to Cantigny (pronounced kan-tee-nee). We toured the First Division Museum and hung around the tank exhibits for a while. Unfortunately, our batteries died before going to the gardens. I only took the first two pictures. The rest were taken by Mrs. Craver.

absent and absent-minded

Friends, it's been way, too long. I apologize for not having visited you. I have been painfully busy, and I sure hope things settle down to a more manageable level soon.

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I do not even have a lot of photos to show for the absence, but here is one from last week.

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As usual, there is a story behind the pic. I went fishing with five kids from church. When I arrived at the desired spot, they jumped out of the minivan and started running towards the water. I called out to them and recalled the young fishermen because although I had a tacklebox and even some worms, I had forgotten all of my fishing poles!

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Okay, so we all went back so that I could retrieve the poles from my house, and then we had the normal amount of activity, helping them all get set up to fish. I began casting as well, but half-an-hour into it, a chill ran down my spine. I suddenly realized that I did not have my fishing license with me.

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Children under sixteen years of age do not need a license, so I set my pole down, and let them continue as I walked back and forth checking on them, untangling line and typical troubleshooting. My wife's camera was in the van, so I hovered over and around them, looking for a good shot.

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As the sun was setting, I was aiming to get something with a colorful background and fill-in flash. I think this was a test shot of what I was trying to get, but I played with post editing, and liked this one better.

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Oh, and as it pertains to the fish... we all got skunked!

mangiare

Sunday afternoon at the Olive Garden. L to R: My wife and me, our two youngest, Mom & Dad.

night driving

Did I hear one of my passengers complain about how long the drive to Florida was? That's okay...

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Here is a fun game to play at night with your kids. You have a volunteer sit in a driver's position, facing this image on the computer screen. All the other players in the game go to sleep for eight hours, but this volunteer must stay awake the whole time, cannot take his eyes off the screen except for a moment, or get out of the driver's position... or they all die.

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Truth be told, there were parts of the drive that it didn't seem quite so agonizing. I liked the stillness of all God's creatures and the opaque shroud of tranquility that tucked us in from horizon to horizon. I liked the space to drive, and the absence of commercials. There was no urban competition for that piece of asphalt right in front of your car. Except for the occasional remnants of highway Kamikaze, the animals were all out of sight. I delighted in the unique sound that a bug makes when the windshield pushes its face through to the opposite side. (Just checking to see if you're still with me.)

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The kids behaved so well for having to sit through a 22-hour drive. I am quite pleased with how they got along. To harass me for all the psychological prepping and behavior coaching, one of these monkeys asked me if we were "almost there," while we were still in the first hour of the drive. (sigh) Everybody wants to be a comedian!

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Oh, before anyone says anything... I DIDN'T take that photo while driving. I talked my wife through it. She doesn't usually use my camera, but did a nice job, eh?

little buddies

I teach Sunday School to a group of 3rd and 4th graders. They're my buds!

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We explained to the young class how "God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble." We talked about how Jesus had harsh things to say to the proud pharisees, but was accused of keeping company with people who were lowly regarded by others, like tax collectors and prostitutes. We are all sinners, but those who wish to be healed, take a humble position before God, eager to receive His grace... which we do not deserve. That's an important piece of background today; got it?

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After the lesson, I had announcements about how the next series in our whole-Bible survey takes us on a journey from Abraham to Joseph (Genesis 12 to 50). We will make a couple of pit stops along the way. For example, one week, in keeping with a whole-church theme, we will have a special lesson about the persecuted church.

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A little hand went up, but I already answered a lot of questions, and the parents were standing outside the classroom, waiting to pick up their kids. Instead of acknowledging the raised hand, we closed in prayer. But the hand stayed up.

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Okay Kiddo, I have to dismiss the class right now, but I'll take that question afterward. She had an expression of sincerity and complete puzzlement on her face. "Mr. Craver, why is there a prostituted church? I know that ours isn't... but why would people go to a church that is prostituted?"

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Admittedly, this question stunned me for a moment. I don't want to tell these children things that should properly be explained by their parents... when the parents feel the time is right. And as I tried to understand where this was coming from, it suddenly hit me. I said persecuted church? She said "yeah." (And gave me a look that suggested, "well duh... what did you think?!")

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So I briefly described the Great Commission and told her that it would be explained more fully on the day we talk about "persecution."

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Later, I told her grandma, and we had a good laugh out of it.

jarred nerves

When you see an old jar, do you ever wonder what's inside? I haven't thought much about such things, and I have never been afraid of the mysteries inside. Until now.

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I took two of the kids to the store last night to buy Mom's Christmas present. They had done some figuring earlier and Daughter put some coins in Son's coat pocket, cause he might be short at the register. Sure enough, after he was rung up, he needed those extra coins... but didn't realize until that moment, which pocket she had stashed his loan. Instead of forking over his money expeditiously, he began a speech lamenting her choice of pocket.

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You still with me? Okay, here goes. He wasn't moving fast enough for me, so I put my own hand in his coat pocket. That was a mistake. I wish I could have seen the expression on my face from the cashier's perspective. I pulled my hand back out of the pocket without the coins. Imagine emptying a package of hot cocoa mix, plus chocolate chips, plus sand into a cloth pocket. What possesses a child to do such a thing?

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Let's say that I am wiser today, with a healthier fear of the unknown.

small voices; big choices

The 4th and 5th graders are a fun group to teach. They are young enough to respect adults, and old enough to understand when I teach.

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A mother and her daughter approached me Sunday, after church with a concern about the day's lesson. The mom asked, "Are you saying that if God does not choose a person, that a person cannot be saved?"

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Here's the backdrop: Last week's memory verse was John 15:16, where Jesus tells his disciples, "You did not choose me, but I chose you..." And I began this day's class with a review and comments about last week's lesson.

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This is good though, and I am delighted about several things:

1. The child took the question to her parents. That is as it should be, because the parents are the ones who are ultimately responsible for the training of the children. It scares me to think what kind of things people are teaching our children, and much of it does not get to the parents' ears.
2. One of the parents spoke with me about it, thereby holding their daughter's teacher accountable, plus giving me an opportunity to discuss the doctrines of grace with them.
3. The other parent spoke with an elder/pastor. That is also a good move if someone has a theological question. Unfortunately, sometimes people forget to do the follow-up, or don't get around to it.

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Anyway, the little girl was nervously wondering, "What if God did not choose me?" What a great question!! I explained that someone who is not chosen by God probably wouldn't care about such a thing. The fact that she was concerned indicates to me that the Holy Spirit may be working on her heart.

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In the brief conversation that followed, I think I answered the question to the mom's satisfaction. I know that election is not always the most popular lesson, but the Bible teaches more than Noah's Ark and David & Goliath. So must I.

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The question now is, will there be an apple in the classroom next Sunday, or an empty chair?

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Related link: Frozen-Chosen at Voice of Vision.

Now, also at Blue Collar.

Pencil Sharpener closeup by Beernotbombs. Image found on Flickr.com.

mutant soccer

I am so proud of my gifted children. Here is a picture one of my sons (he's near the middle, facing the camera) and his Mutant X-team playing soccer. They're all telekinetics, so they move the ball around, using nothing but the force of their thoughts. Neat, huh?

vampire daddy

A friend took this shot of me biting my daughter's hand at a picnic. You see, at home, we don't like to use the paddle when kids behave badly; that's so 1950's. Here, she swiped the cap right off my head and refused to let it go. So I bit her.

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Lest you begin accusing me of being too harsh, let me say something in my defense. Do you know how many times she swiped my cap after that? A bunch of times, actually. She is just a twisted little nut and that's all there is to it. But that's not my point.

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(My original point was supposed to be that my friend can go to picasa.google.com and use that to edit and store photos.)

small fries

A guest preacher spoke this weekend at my church, on account of our regular teaching pastor had an injury. Dr. Rick Thompson brought up the apostolic bickering that occurred around the time of the Last Supper. He noted that Jesus did not rebuke his followers for wanting to be the greatest. Instead of discouraging it, He explained how to become the greatest of His followers. The path to greatness is to be like the youngest.

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Rather than giving you Dr. Thompson's notes, I thought it might be neat to open up a discussion, exploring what people think Jesus meant by that phrase. If you want the text, it is found in Luke 22:24-27.

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What does it mean to "become as the youngest?"

Image: the children of my friend, Ryo Iwahashi

looth tooth

One of the kids had a loose molar. This child is not usually aggressive about pulling it out on their own, and I usually try to have them do their own baby-teeth extractions.

I don’t like pulling teeth. They’re scared and I do not want to be associated too much with pain. But when they could not do it on their own, the kids have come to me as if I’m some kind of family expert in this field. What a dubious honor to have bestowed upon you!

So, after making the obligatory jokes, I try to convince this child that the psychology of fear makes the pain seem great, when it’s really not so bad. I tie the floss, give a hug, and somewhere in the midst of the subsequent patter, I sneak a quick tug, and voila! The tooth is out!

Rinse, then hug.

Again, I do not enjoy pulling teeth, but you know what? When Mrs. Craver asks the kids, “Do you want Daddy to pull it for you? And they say yes, it means they trust me. They have confidence in my help to get past the fear and pain. I like that.