The Kite Principle

My son, Ricky, enjoying  flying a kite in Panama City, FL.

I am not a kite person. I never had one as a child and still have no interest in building or flying an actual kite. My wife, on the other hand, seems to be an avid kite lover. I don't know the history behind Jen and kites. There may be no history at all, but I can assure you that right now there is a kite in the side box of my pick-up truck cap and it is just waiting for the chance to be freed from it's place of bondage and set loose on a glorious journey of the sky and Jen would be the one to suggest it, not me. It also would seem that there is an ideal place for kites to be flown...at the beach. I am a beach person. Our family has had the great pleasure of spending hours, days, and weeks on the sands of several beautiful beaches including Panama City Beach, Virginia Beach, Fernandina Beach on Amelia Island in Florida, Bethany Beach, and our all time favorite, Topsail Island, North Carolina. Now I will not exaggerate and say that we have flown kites at each of these venues, but rest assured, the kite was probably there and/or the idea was brought up by Jen. Needless to say, I have gleaned some knowledge regarding the proper launching and subsequent flying of a kite. I must say that the one instance that sticks out in my mind under the heading of "kite flying" was not completely my doing, but I did have a part in it. One year, at Topsail with family, lots of family, a Superman kite had made the trip with us. (I have come to notice the correlation between the presence of children and kites. That is probably the source of my wife's kite affection-her children.) Without getting into the minutia of getting it into the air, I so remember how high, for how long, and just how awesome a sight it was to see him flying up there. See, we had spent so much time flying this kite that we were able to release the entire ball of string and even let that go, as we tied it to one of the railings of the deck or catwalk. Of the dozen or more people on that trip, each and every person would take a few seconds to look up from a beach chair or look out a window to see where the kite was. If memory serves me, that kite flew for hours and hours without any hand holding the string before we had to reel it back in.

I am a daddy. I love being a daddy. I have had the opportunity to co-raise three awesome kids; two girls and a boy. One of those girls is 18 years old and so far, a fresh high school graduate. Right now she is out of the country on a mission trip to Grenada where she is using her talents, singing, playing the guitar, and my favorite, sharing the word of God, to make a difference in the lives of the people of that island, but especially a group of children four to six years old. My wife and I have obviously spent a significant amount of time preparing her for now. You know where I am going with this. You see, all of a sudden I realize how much I love kites and flying them, still not the actual ones, but the ones illustrated by our children. There is a huge similarity. There are memories of running and running as hard and fast as I could to try to get that kite up into the breeze. We sure have had our share of changes in the wind with accompanying nose dives. I will never forget the times that I had to quickly wind some string back onto the ball because there was too much slack and the kite began to falter. On the flip side, I have stood and felt the refreshing breath of God blowing in our life and felt as the string began to pull snug in the breeze. Her mother and I have watched as she has pulled away from us, climbing higher on the current of this blessed breeze, sustained by this heavenly wind. I now understand that I can build the kite, make her fit for flying. I tie my string to her, not to hold her down, but to help her fly. Have you ever seen a kite fly without string? Our malls are full of them, kites without ability to fly on their own, blowing wherever the harsh gusts of society choose. These are surface winds. Our desire should be to get them up from the ground and into the air. Isn't it interesting that the term used to parent a child to adulthood is "raise". The Bible uses the phrase "bring them up". So no, it's not by my power that they fly, but they need the string. I thought I needed the string. What I am seeing now is that the string no longer needs to be in my hand. She is on the wind, flying high. She still needs the string, but I don't. I think I'll tie it to something that won't move. By prayer, I will leave her in the care of the Rock that is higher than I, Psalm 61:2. Now I will bask in the awesome sight of my high-flying kite way up in the wind and I will watch as passers-by stop to watch it too. To them it will look like she has no string, but I know she does and I know Who is holding it because I can see it...from my Perspective.


Now for one of the best post scripts ever....

It has been over a year since I wrote this original content above and there have been a couple times I began to question its authenticity. The beginning of this year was rough and I gotta tell you, I wondered if my precious kite would stay airborne. Storm winds blow into our lives and can wreak havoc on a kite that "refuses" to come down. Well, I am thrilled to give you a refreshed view of my kite. My now 19 year old daughter is a missionary on deputation with the Gospel Preachers Association/Mobilization Ministries to raise support so that she can go back to Grenada for a six-month "tour" as a missionary teacher on February 11, 2104, right after her 20th birthday. She will be imbedded in Maranatha Baptist Church, where she will be teaching preschoolers through the week, working with teens on Saturdays, and on Sunday, teaching Sunday school & participating in the services at her home church. Feel free to check out her Facebook page and be sure to "like" it while you're there to receive her updates. In fact, if you feel inclined to join in her "flight", you can go here and donate.

God has amazed us with His ability to add string to the kite, even while it is flying. I've never had to do that before, but I am so glad He has. Now I can't wait to see how much string He has added. Have I mentioned that I love flying kites?

Boys to Men

I have mentioned how I love to be a daddy. That is only half of the truth. I also love to be a dad. Now that may sound redundant to you, but hear me out, or rather, read me out. See, I am only daddy to two people. You're onto me now, aren't you? Have you figured out that my son does not call me daddy? He calls me dad and I am totally cool with that. Truthfully, I can't remember the last time he did call me daddy. Perhaps it was around the time I realized that I am not raising children, I am raising people. I am not raising a baby boy, or a little boy. I am raising a man. My friend, if you haven't had the privilege of parenting at least one boy and one girl, let me tell you, it is different. Even though books are still being published about the lack of difference, the real life that I live has made that assertion laughable.

I am in the middle of a book, again. I am not a huge reader so I am always "in the middle" of a book. As last time, this is not a book review, nor it is an endorsement of all that the book teaches, but it has shown itself to be insightful and I think with some doctrinal discretion, you could really learn from it. Alright already, the book is Wild at Heart by John Eldredge and it is aptly titled. Through scripture, psychology, and experience, the author rebuilds the machine that once was man, a real man. I'm talking about the kind of man that we used to look up to 30, 40, 50 years ago. There is certainly a ton of stuff that could be said right here about the current state of masculinity in our society, or better stated, the lack of masculinity, but that is for another time. I am more interested in sharing how I have seen my son respond to life as we go and grow together.
                                                                                 

I have watched Ricky drive a car in Disney (here). I have watched him swell with excitement as his Uncle Steve asked, "You wanna fly it?" through a headset and handed over the controls to his airplane, a Piper Cherokee 6, a couple years ago over the hills of North Carolina. This is same uncle that Ricky loves for his practically brand new Corvette. His love for mechanical things and movement, proven by research to develop sooner and stronger in boys than girls, has driven him, no pun intended, into my stored away collection of Automobile magazines that aren't even current. I picked up the subscription from the inaugural issue in like 1986, and collected each monthly issue for the next five years. And this drive shows no sign of slowing. Right now, in fact, literally right now he is probably immersed in the latest library borrow, Need for Speed for the Wii and his latest behind the wheel experience was just two days ago on a friend's boat. Again, the question, "You wanna drive it?" In case you were wondering, here is your answer...

I guess what I want to really say here is, let your boys be boys. That's the only way they will grow to be men, real men. Right now, I am stoked at the thought of filling his life with opportunities to grow into Biblical manhood. In case you are wondering, that is the kind of man that knows what it means to be tough but not mean, strong but not pushy, brave but not stupid, sensitive but not soft, and confident but not arrogant. So we like to camp and grill and eat meat (cooked, let's not get crazy here). We enjoy shooting the bow and arrows and the rifles. But the best part, we like to spend time talking, talking about what he is thinking and what he is feeling, and that's a pretty good bit at eleven years old. Of course, where he does his best thinking and talking seems to be in the woods. Oh I love to be called "Daddy" especially when it comes from real close to me with those beautiful eyes looking up at me, but being called "Dad" has become a call back to what I feel God intended for us men, at least, that's my perspective.

Thanks to Uncle Steve for providing this photo from the day Ricky flew the plane. If you think he looks like he is having the time of his life, it's because he was.