Little Sister

Emily Anne Duffield ~ 7 lbs, 9 oz. ~ 20" long ~ 4/19/06 ~ 11:33 p.m

My baby sister, Annie, had a brand new baby girl last night.

Now I have one nephew and three nieces.

But by faith and experience, I find it difficult to see them as merely my brother's and sister's kids. Let me explain.

God has smiled on our family. He has seen to it that, one by one, we've each come to know Him in His own timing. He has elected us, each one, before the foundations of the world for a life leading toward Him, and His Glory, His Grace. Now, while it would be folly to take this for granted, to believe that since we're saved, they will be too, I still believe that little boy and those little girls will one day call on God as their Father. They would then cease to be nephew or niece, and become brother or sister.

My prayer and belief is that this new little girl will someday look to God and accept him as her forever Father, to be called "sister" among our brethren.

To my little sister Annie, congratulations. You are blessed.

To my new little sister Emily, welcome to Earth. If you need anything, let me know.

Big Sister

As my parents' first child, I entered the world with naught but my parents to show me the ways of the world. I needed somebody just a little older than myself to help me understand the world in baby step chunks. With no elder sibling to fill that role, I looked elsewhere.

My cousin Mandy welcomed me into the world as a big sister should.

By living the experiences of life less than 2 years before me, she had an expertise I yearned for. She taught me how to avoid eating gross foods like cottage cheese. She helped me avoid punishments by applying "cute" when necessary. She showed me how to put on a show that brings the attention where it belongs, on me. She gave me wardrobe advice in Jr. High. She gave me aloof lessons for High School. For dating, she made women seem much less mysterious.

Today, we trade secrets of life, sharing what we've learned to help the other grow.

Today, we still put on shows.

Daughter of God

"I'd love to surprise her,
give her diamonds and pearls
If I could do it
she knows I'd give her the world

Though I've found comfort
in the love we've vowed
I can't help thinkin' that I've
let her down
I'd do anything
to make her proud
Deserves a castle
I've only built her a cloud"
- T. S. Taylor

She works hard to make my job as husband and father easy. And when I'm selfish, when I am insufficient, she praises me for the good I bring into her life.

Sweet mother of my children, you make my life worthwhile.

How can I ever be enough for as wonderful a daughter of God as she?

Happy Birthday Laughter

"The younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder."
- Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

Growing up, my brother was my glad experiment. My ideas became his assignments. My dreams became his directions.

Once, I got him to perform with me in a lip-synch contest at a Christian bookstore. I was to play the struggling Christian protagonist. My brother was to be the devil. He played the part with aplomb, guaranteeing our victory and a sack full of 80s Contemporary Christian cassettes.

Since then, he has chosen a more dignified route of seeking attention and applause.

I still leap at any opportunity to be on a stage sucking up attention (my daughter follows me in this way). It doesn't matter the purpose or the audience, to me any chance to perform is worthy of my performance.

My brother doesn't go in for that. Oh, he enjoys the stage and the attention and the applause. He truly does, but he choses the stage. He chooses the audience.

These days, when he's in town, I can usually come up with some reason for us to pick up guitars and play and sing for family and friends. He always resists.

But then, when the moment is right, and the audience is least expecting it, when he's sure he won't look a fool, and the applause and laughter is guaranteed, he let's them have it.

And they cry. And they sing along.

And they laugh.

Happy Birthday Laughter

Welcome Happy Campers To Camp CAACONAA

"Come as a child or not at all
Suck in your gut and get real small
Make like a baby and learn to crawl
Come as a child or not at all?
-Theo

Tonight is the 5th official Camp CAACONAA!

Camp CAACONAA (CC) is a ministry I put together with my buddy Jeff. It's a campout where Dad's can bring one of their kids with the express purpose of bonding a little deeper with him/her. The idea is that our kids need special time with their fathers. Knowing that Dad's have a hard time dedicating time for their kids, we've designed CC to help them drop the busy-ness that consumes them, get on the floor and play, and ultimately, turn their hearts back to their kids.

In the winter, we hold Kinder CAACONAA for the little ones, age 3-6. It's an indoor, living room style, campout at our church. Dads bring tents and set them up in the auditorium. Some even drape blankets over a couple chairs for the ultimate living room fort. That's what we're doing tonight. I'm taking my 5 year old boy.

In the picture above, you see the reason for Camp CAACONAA. From the left; Jeff's Dad Thurston, Jeff's son J, Jeff, Me, my daughter P, and my Dad Fred.

This photo was taken at the 3rd CC this past summer. Jeff and I wanted to show our own Dads their fathering legacy. We wanted them to see what their good fathering fostered in our own lives. We invited them to join us at CC to see it for themselves.

There were 50 father/child pairs there that day, all of them playing together, holding hands, having deep conversations, and otherwise goofing off.

This is the legacy of our Fathers. They gave us quality one-on-one time when we were young. We valued that time. We needed that time. They gave us that time.

Now, we aim at doing the same for our own kids. We want other Dads, who may not have valued, or even had, the time with their own Dads, to begin to understand their value to their kids. We want them to prioritize one-on-one time.

Two weeks after this photo was taken, while Jeff and I were leading the 4th CC, Jeff's Dad died in his sleep. God graciously gave Jeff the chance to honor his father in a special way, that one last time.

We cannot know how much time we have left to spend quality time with our children or our parents. We don't have time to fritter away the moments we do have.

Make time. It's imperative.

Little-Brother-In-Law

I don't know what I did to get such a cool Little-Brother-In-Law.

Well, I do know what I did. I married his sister. That's not what I mean though.

He has been the bonus to my marriage that I hadn't really counted on.

There are plenty of crazy, mixed-up teenagers to keep American parents crazy and mixed-up themselves, but I couldn't have designed one easier to tolerate than him.

He loves my kids. He tolerates them, torments them, and tutors them. And to this point, he still hasn't made it his mission to mess them up for me.

In years past, I had to keep on my toes. Like a young tiger at the zoo, his joy was to make me yelp in pain. He would wrestle me until I fought back, then keep wrestling until I climbed exhausted from the pool. We had a great wrestlationship.

I'm glad he's outgrown that stage. Not because I didn't like it. I did. I'm glad it's over because he's almost as big as me and just as strong. My weight would be the only advantage I have left.

With the few years of adolescence he has left, I hope he still looks to me as a resource to help him grow into the honorable man he wants to be.

Into The Deep

"I baptize you with water, but HE will baptize you with the Holy Spirit." - John The Baptist
Mark 1:8
When my father baptized me, it was then a ritual I wanted to undertake. It meant something deep, but at the time, I could only see it as obedience, as a demonstation of following Jesus. The true meaning didn't surface for me until I came to know the baptism that John said would come soon enough.

I'm still trying to find words to describe this Holy Spirit baptism that I swim through every day. I struggle to stay faithful when the world screams louder than the still small voice, and yet when I hear, and then I listen, and then I drink it deep, it becomes, not a struggle at all, but an ever increasing, world muting, wave of joy.

When my father and I baptised my daughter, I prayed that she would come to understand this baptism earlier in life than her old man. I pray she will know the voice of The Ghost before the world's noise invades her precious ears.

Alegria Incomparable

Fatherhood is a joy beyond joy.

I teach Sunday School. The joy I get from sharing the love of God with wide open minds, draws me back again and again.

In Ottovalo, Ecuador, I met a boy named Javier. He has no father. He speaks no english.

In the two hours we spent together, I gave him all the fatherly love I'd been storing up on a week away from my own kids. I shared God's love with him, his brothers and sisters, and his mother.

Alegria incomparable.

Joy unmatched.

Normal Children

"A characteristic of the normal child is he doesn't act that way very often."
~Author Unknown

I've long since deserted the idea that my children are common. There's an extra-ordinary quality in their every move. I'm beginning to believe that they have a whole lot more charm and potential than I ever had.

Mt. Whitney, California

"Your long year
Ran right by here
Just another short day to me
So how have you been
In your beatiful skin
Did you solve all life's mysteries
In your long year?"
- Daniel Amos

There are times in my life when I see my own children knowing the same fantasies, dreams and wishes that I had (and, for the most part, still have) when I was a child myself. I love these moments of hope and promise for a future they will own.

I'm A Millionaire

"Doctor,
What is happening to me?
Palpitations
My mind's diseased
Even my vision is impaired
I'm losing my hair
Cos when i hold her in my arms
I feel like Fred Astaire

Lovesick
My temperature's high
Just met a girl
Who believes we can fly
I'm a bull, not a bear
I'm a millionaire
And when i hold her in my arms
I feel like Fred Astaire"
- James

Our anniversary is for reflecting on the highs and lows of our marriage so far, and celebrating our joy and endurance.

Her birthday is for thanking God that she was given to the world and me.

But Valentines Day is for showing the world how totally beautiful and beyond my grasp she really is!


For my Dreefee,

You are supernatural.

Golden Afternoon

"Forward, backward, inward, outward
Come and join the chase!
Nothing could be drier
Than a jolly caucus-race.
Backward, forward, outward, inward
Bottom to the top,
Never a beginning There can never be a stop."


It was a fun weekend spent with my best friend from high school and beyond, Loren "Captain Bogg" Hoskins and his new wife Janelle. What a joy to share my beloved family with them.

I often wonder what life would be like if we were still as close as we were back then. He's living the creative life we always dreamed of and I found Ohana. Perhaps, if we were closer, we'd each have a greater measure of both.

I know we're both happy where we are. I know we're happy for one another.

I finally got around to spending an hour talking with my Grandfather. I was surprised at how easy and enjoyable it was.

I'll do it again.

I finally had my Harrison Ford moment.

From the first time I saw him mentally weigh the golden fertility statue and replace it with a bag of sand, Indiana Jones has been my hero of choice. In fact, any movie with Harrison Ford has always topped my list. I even tried to like Frantic.

In late night coffee blah blahs, where guys discuss their "best of", "desert island", and "last man on earth" scenarios, my choice for celeb to meet was consistently Harrison Ford. But I imagined that if I ever did meet him, it would be in a circumstance where an awkward, "i'm yer biggest fan" would make the moment not worth having.

Well I had it and it was just right.

I was working as a PA at the Golden Globe Awards this year and it was my job to grant permission to the select few delivery trucks, VIPs and limos that needed access to the stage door of the Beverly Hilton. It's a fun post because I had between 10 and 14 LAPD, Beverly Hills PD, Beverly Hills Traffic Patrol officers along with another 6 private security guards dressed in tuxes, all at my command. If a vehicle pulls up along Wilshire and wants access, the cops etc. all look to me for clearance and if I don't have permission from the command center inside the hotel, they won't let them in. If I don't have clearance from inside, The cops make them drive around the venue and find their way back to me. Hopefully by then, I have their clearance, but if not, they can't block traffic and they gotta go around. It's real bad news for a driver if I send them around because due to the horrendous traffic caused by the awards show, they wont be back for at least 40 minutes. They tend to get real mad, but with all my back up, they find themselves driving away bitterly beaten.

Last year, I sent Leonard DiCaprio and Naomi Watts around even thought they insisted they needed to be on stage in "5 minutes!" The new Governor was expected that night so security wasl very tight.

It's under these circumstances that my story begins.

As soon as the "Red Carpet Pre-Show" is over and the actual program begins, hundreds of workers decend on the hotel entrance to tear it all down. This is supposed to happen in some sort of order so teams of bleacher builders, tent poppers, carpet rollers, cable wrappers and camera men don't make war. A convoy of carpet trucks started rolling up and, since I was told they weren't welcome for another hour, I sent them around. By the time I sent the 5th truck around, their boss had run to my post from inside the hotel to beg me to let his trucks in. But he was asking the wrong guy. I kept getting affirmation from the command center that they weren't allowed in. This guy was angry and persistant and my cop brigade were looking to me for a signal to run him and his trucks off.

Traffic was beginning to back up behind the trucks and a few timid honks sounded from the first few town cars. The carpet boss was begging me to let his trucks through, when the back passenger door of the first town car opened. A tuxedoed man with a greying goatee rushed at me. At first I wasn't concerned, but then I recognized him. Indiana Jones, Dr. Richard Kimball, Jack Ryan and Han Solo, were all rushing toward me, angry, with his finger stabbing the air. "WHY IS THIS TRUCK JUST SITTING HERE?!"

"IT'S MOVING NOW!!" I shouted to the driver, the cops, the carpet boss and everyone waiting on Wilshire Boulevard. The coppers all took steps toward the truck and the driver got the idea. Against all hope, he released the clutch and started the long drive around.

Harrison Ford turned to get back in his car muttering frustrated thank yous to me or whoever he'd been praying to before.

I put my hand on the car and jogged beside it as it moved to the bomb squad's check point giving the driver directions to the stage door. I looked in the back seat and the scruffy looking, nerf herder, passenger nodded to me in thanks.

That's all there is.

It couldn't have been better.

Another Day In Paradise

Today is an historic day for God.

Despite all the unfaithful prayers of the tv producers, event organizers and floral sculpturalists, the Tournament of Roses Parade in Pasadena, California was rained out.

Each year, the rest of the world, blanketed in crummy, winter weather, huddles in front of their television sets watching in jealous disbelief as the floats, bands, and horses strut down Colorado Boulevard under a canopy of 80 degree sun. For 51 years the sun has shined on this parade tradition. For 51 years, the event organizers have proudly and superstitiously touted their "deal with God" as the reason for the balmy weather. The deal is, if New Years Day falls on a Sunday, they hold the parade on the following Monday. In return, God is expected hold back the rain on parade day. It seems like a pretty good deal if you ask me.

That is, if God isn't God.

The seeds ran off the faces of float fairies, the bands dripped "76 Trombones", the clydesdales matted ankle fur mopped up gutter water, and Bob Eubanks kept up the smily voice.

And Yahweh refused to be corraled.

A Beginning of an Ending

Maria Robinson said, "Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but everyone can start today and make a new ending." By focusing on my regrets, my "misdemeanours, misgivings, misfortunes, and Miss Whatever-Her-Name-Is", I end up losing my positive view of the future.

Today, I begin to look at the future as my good ending.

One of my 3 Grandfathers died yesterday (one left.) His was an example of a good ending. Although he was never the same joyful man he was before Grandma died, he still remained focused on being a good man, a stand up citizen, an example to myself and my own kids.

I mean to, I intend to, I will to leave my past regrets behind, and live a good ending.

It's Half Time. Time to regroup, replan, and revive my life for the second half, yet to come.