November 7: Daddy/Daughter Time

Tonight, my wife and I are splitting the parenting duties.  My wife took my son to his preschool classroom for a craft night.  I stayed with my daughter while she went to her dance classes.

I like when I can spend time with just one of my children.  I sometimes feel as though my daughter gets the short end of the stick when it comes to my attention, simply because my son is four years old and destroys everything he comes in contact with.  He takes a lot of my energy when I'm with him.  This evening, my daughter got to choose where she wanted to eat, and then we drove down to Lake Superior and watched the lights in the dark water.  It was really nice.

After dinner, I took her to my office at the university, and I let her pretend she was a college student.  She liked that, as well.  Now, she's back at her dance studio, and I have an hour to kill.  But the important thing about tonight was my daughter getting my full attention.  I wasn't distracted by my son saying, "Can I play your iPad?" or "Pleeeeeze can I play your iPad?" or "Daddy, I love you.  Can I play your iPad?"  (I have begun to have some suspicions that the only reason he wants me around is because I'm his iPad supplier.)  No, it was pure daddy/daughter time, and it was golden.

I remember when my daughter was four years old, and I would sit next to her bed and read her book after book.  I read her Charlotte's Web and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  And we would laugh and say prayers together.  Those are some of my best memories.

Now that she's almost twelve, I am dealing with a different kind of daughter.  A daughter who goes to school dances.  A daughter who wears training bras.  And a daughter who doesn't want to hug and kiss me in front of her friends.  That's sort of depressing.

Saint Marty wants his little girl back.

My not-so-little girl

November 7: My Business, Worry Wednesday, Mixed Bag

"It's not my business," Scrooge returned.  "It's enough for a man to understand his own business, and not to interfere with other people's.  Mine occupies me constantly.  Good afternoon, gentlemen!"

You may be wondering why I chose such a self-centered, negative quote from Ebenezer Scrooge on this, the morning after Barack Obama was reelected President of the United States.  I have made my position fairly clear on my politics recently.  And not so recently, as well.  Make no mistake:  I am happy about the results of last night's presidential contest.

However, upon some reflection this morning, I have come to realize what a self-centered exercise politics can be.  I wanted Barack Obama to win because of his dedication to the middle class and health care, among other things.  If I were in business versus education, I would probably have been a Mitt Romney supporter.  That's the way politics works.  The winner of any political election, whether it's for President of the United States or city council, is the person whom the electorate believes will help them with their problems the most.  Ebenezer Scrooge, pre-Marley's ghost, would have been a Romney supporter.  Ebenezer Scrooge, post-yuletide Ghosts, would have backed Obama.  It's all about what your "business" is.

Today is Worry Wednesday.  I could go on about the schizophrenic nature of the political situation in Michigan.  I mean, we are the state in which most of the country's labor unions began, and, yet, we voted down a proposal last night that would have constitutionally protected collective bargaining.  We, as a state, went blue for Barack, and, yet, my county in the Upper Peninsula reelected a fellow to Congress who is a heart surgeon, a millionaire, and a Republican.  Go figure.  When I reviewed all of the results from last night, I got the feeling that people in Michigan simply didn't think things through very much.  We have a Democratic president, and we elected a man to the House of Representatives who will oppose his every move.

I could go on, but I'm not going to.  I have worries, for myself, for my family, for my country.  Everybody does.  I know that Barack Obama is not going to take care of all my worries.  Mitt Romney would not have taken care of all my worries.  As Ebenezer Scrooge says in the passage at the beginning of this post, my business will occupy me constantly, for the rest of my life.

Saint Marty wants to rise above his worries this morning and embrace the idea of hope and compassion and charity.  That's his Father's business.



Feeling a little blue



November 6: Headed to the Polls

In less than an hour, I will be headed to the polls to vote for the next President of the United States.  It's always an exciting moment for me.  Ever since I voted in my first presidential election when I was 18 years old, I feel like I'm part of something very big.  For those few minutes I'm in the voting booth, my voice is important.  My voice is heard.

I'm not saying that I've always voted for the winning candidate.  In fact, I can count on one hand the number of times I have voted for the winner of a presidential election.  But I have been counted, and that is a huge thing in this world.  Not very many other countries give their citizens the opportunity to select their leaders.  I get to do it every four years.  In a day or so, I will be able to say, "I chose that man as the leader of my country" or "I didn't vote for that idiot."

Either way, Saint Marty is grateful to exercise such freedom in his life.

I am a very lucky person

November 6: Many Thousands, Saint Martin of Tours, Saint of the Week

"At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge," said the gentleman, taking up a pen, "it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time.  Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, Sir."

The gentleman speaking to Scrooge here is attempting to obtain a charitable contribution from him.  Of course, at this point in the novel, Scrooge rejects him flatly, even mocks him.  At the end of his sojourn in the spirit world, Scrooge is singing a different carol, though.  He meets this gentleman in the street on Christmas morning and makes a monetary pledge that leaves the gentleman speechless.  That is the greatest miracle of this book:  a man's stingy heart is opened, and he sees Christ in the poor and destitute of the world.

That is the story of my saint of the week, as well.  This week, my saint happens to be another Saint Marty--Saint Martin of Tours.  Martin of Tours is the saint I was named for.  His feast day is November 11, and he is the patron saint of beggars and soldiers.  The story behind this patronage is remarkable.

When Martin was a young Roman soldier in France, he met a beggar at the gates to the city of Amiens.  The beggar was naked and freezing.  Without thinking, Martin cut his military cloak in half and shared it with the beggar.  That night, as he slept, Martin had a vision of Christ wearing the half-cloak he had given away.  Jesus was telling the heavenly host of angels, "Here is Martin, the Roman soldier who is not baptized; he has clad me."  When Martin woke up, his cloak was whole again.  (The details of this story come from Wikipedia.)

That is why I love Martin of Tours.  He is a saint who feeds and clothes the poor.  He is a saint who recognizes Christ in everyone.  Martin could be one of Dickens' Ghosts of Christmas.  The message of Martin's story pretty much coincides with the message of any one of those yuletide Spirits--Past, Present, or Future.  Take care of all the Tiny Tims of the world, and you will be blessed.  Ebenezer Scrooge learned that lesson.  Martin of Tours learned that lesson.

As I head out to vote today, I am going to keep that lesson in mind, as well.  Who is going to hoard his wealth, make the rich even richer and the poor even poorer?  And who is going to share his cloak, take care of all of the Christs, no matter how sick or dirty or impoverished?

Saint Marty thinks he knows the answer to that question.

I'm voting for Saint Martin of Tours