Remember Who You Are

In the last couple years, I had hoped that my daughter would come to love Disney animated classics as I once did growing up.  My favorite to this day remains 'The Lion King' from 1994.  For months, I've tried to encourage her to sit still long enough to find that movies can be quite a fun way to pass the time.  Of course, to her toddler mind, her time was much too important to watch anything longer than five minutes (unless your name happened to be Daniel Tiger).  After trying first--albeit maybe too early--with 'The Lion King' and not even making it through the opening title song and failing some months later with 'Despicable Me' and making it only about 20 minutes in, I thought "this is hopeless."  Even the minions weren't adorable enough to sway her!

While my wife and I pride ourselves on not wanting the TV be a babysitter for our child(ren)--and believe me, there were many times where we wanted to just sit her in her highchair for 2-3 hours and let Sesame Street be her playmates for the morning--I wanted her to understand the importance of storytelling and being able to see those stories unfold. 

To my enjoyment last week, as my 2-year-old princess and I snuggle down for her nite-nite milk, she requested 'The Lion King.'  After three or four straight nights, we finally finished the movie and every night since then we have tucked her in bed, sang her her favorite bedtime songs, prayed our prayers, and said goodnight to the jungle animals all around her room like we've done since she was a newborn.  Lions on her curtains, lions on wooden plaques, lions as sticker decals on her walls.  And to each one she says "it's the LION KING!"  I smile and ask "and what's the lion king's name?"  She smiles real big and happily answers "SIMBA!!"

There's so much to love about this movie: breath-taking visuals, important life lessons, the soundtrack.  The particular poignant interaction [SPOILER ALERT!...=)] between a grown Simba and the late Mufasa in a midnight field captures the father-son relationship that I wish to have with all my kids.

Mufasa's ghost: [from above] Simba.
Adult Simba: Father?
Mufasa's ghost: [apears among the stars] Simba, you have forgotten me.
Adult Simba: No. How could I?
Mufasa's ghost: You have forgotten who you are and so have forgotten me. Look inside yourself, Simba. You are more than what you have become.

I have had plenty of time lately to think about who I am and I find that I'm nowhere close to who God has created me to be.  I thought I would be happily married by the time I was 24 (didn't say my vows until I was almost 28), have a good career as a graphic designer or author (I'm still trying to figure out whether or not I'm a "career man"), have at least two kids (I have my daughter and three babies in Heaven--more on that later), and live in a modest but large home outside of my hometown of Topeka, Kansas (it always seems to bring me back).

I don't know how many times I've heard and believed the lies from Satan that I'm worthless, a complete failure, and nothing I do in life will ever have value to myself or to the people I love and care about.  Why is it so easy to believe the lies than the truths of God?  Is it a societal thing where we tend to hear from our parents, our spouse, our peers, our boss, our fellow co-workers, and strangers all the negative traits about us that keep us so chained to the belief that we will never be anything other than what they say we are?  I think even the richest, most recognized, most accomplished people even feel they have failed at something.

So what kind of standard are we setting for ourselves?  Do we consciously set our expectations so unattainably high that they can never be realistically met?  And what kind of example are we setting for our kids, our nieces and nephews and grandchildren that look up to us for having the answers to life's biggest and toughest questions?

I, for one, have never found my identity in my job, my accomplishments, my failures, my friends, or even my family (perhaps my lovely wife will disagree--she's my better half, right?).  My identity, the only one I truly need to look to for validation, belongs in Christ.  It is to him alone that I am held accountable.  I cannot be the perfect, sinless example that he was for me.  I am a sinner and always will be.  But I was bought with the blood he shed on Calvary; and it's by grace that I will never be separated from the love of God (Romans 8:38-39).

Remember who YOU are.

Bless and be blessed, my friends!!

Me introduce to begin story.

Hello.  Me name Daddy Monster.  Me like eat meat, sing like thunder and dance like earthquake, and chase boys and girls with big, booming RRAAAAAWWWWRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!  You be me friend and me lock you up and pet you, and love you, and hug you, and squeeze you all up!!! HAAHAAHAA!!!

While me big like giant and seem scary, me gentle and like to play.  Me teddy bear physique and big toothy grin make me good company.  Me promise not to harm you and me ask you not throw stone or come at me with pitchfork or stick of fire.  Me look like big hairy ogre; but inside, me feel like Hodor from Game of Throne.  He best friend!

Me want to write and tell story.  Many story.  Some good but some bad.  Me try and make joke to make smile, although some too sad and may make tear.  But me hope you learn and enjoy from story.  Feel free to leave comment or cookie after story.  Me like cookie!!!  But no raisin; me no like raisin cookie.  HAAHAAHAA!!!

Have good day and me see you next time.  Me like you, new friend!