My oldest kids were surprised with new bikes for Christmas this year. For the past two days, all we’ve done is ride bikes. Because these bikes are ‘big-kid bikes’ they are taking some time to become comfortable with. The formerly conventional Fred Flinstone method of breaking doesn’t work any longer – now we just push the pedals backward to make the bike stop. You get the idea.

Today we headed on a new adventure to a city park about a mile from our house. This park has some serious grassy hills with cement sidewalks wrapping through the artificial lakes. The kids started riding on the sidewalks but began eyeing the grassy hills. I thought the hills would be a really bad idea. The kids hadn’t yet had the ‘big fall’ on their new bikes and I could just feel their anxiety. My son Trevor was especially fearful of falling. I knew because he kept talking about it!

And then it happened. His sister veered off the sidewalk and went right down a huge grassy hill. And guess what, she had her first big fall. She tumbled. I thought our day was over but she got up, stopped crying (after a few minutes) and rode down the hill again.

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“Daddy – All the basketball players are from Kenya,” remarks my oldest during this year’s NCAA basketball tournament.

Obviously. For all who are ‘in the know,’ Kenya is a perennial powerhouse for the production of world-class basketball players. Forget marathon running, think of all the amazing basketball players that have come from Kenya. There’s that one guy…and…then…and oh yeah….that other guy…as she says this I literally can’t think of a single player that I’ve ever heard of coming from Kenya. I’m sure there is one or even maybe a few, but taking a second glance back at the screen I reckon that the players seem to be from Los Angeles, not Nairobi.

I glance over at my wife and politely ask, “Why does she think the basketball players are from Kenya?” and as the words come off my tongue – it dawns on me. The guys playing all look like the people we saw every day when we lived in Kenya for a few months one year ago. Then Trevor chimes in and says that he is from Kenya, too. This is not true either (he was born in Ethiopia) but he seemed proud so we just went with it.

I’ve been reflecting on this little dialogue for a few weeks now and want to share some semblance of a conclusion. First, our kids think that people with dark skin are all from Kenya because they spent every day with dark skinned people in Kenya. Because we now live in a predominately light skinned community in the United States I fear that they may have thought these dark skinned people were from mars if we hadn’t been in Kenya. The simple truth here is this: circumstances that we expose our kids to greatly impacts their worldview. Just like us, our kids need a broad worldview to better understand our role and place in the world. A narrow worldview has the tendency to shrink your reality and a shrunken reality is dangerous because we tend to think that everyone should be like us. (more…)

“Did you hear about the helicopter?”

This is the first time that Erin and I have a chance to talk. Our kids are finally asleep. My phone is finally turned off. We’re catching up on the days’ activities.

Yes – I’ve heard about the helicopter…

I heard about the helicopter when Trevor thanked God for letting him see it during his bedtime prayers. In fact, it was the first thing that the kids told me when I got home.

“Dad, Dad – I want to be a helicopter guy when I grow up,” my little guy shares with me. Knowing that Trevor’s previous employment desires ranged from ‘tire guy’ (discount tire) to ‘motorcycle guy’ (guy riding motorcycle on street) this newest revelation seemed more professional. I inquired further.

“That sounds like a pretty good idea, how did you know that you want to do that?” A helicopter passed overhead. It had to be that. Nope. (more…)

The other day I heard a convicting story. A public figure and parent (we’ll call him Jim) gets a call in the middle of the night from the vice-principal at his boys’ high school. His boys have been on a bus that had had alcohol on it and though his boys weren’t involved with the alcohol everyone on the bus was being sent home. Hence the phone call in the middle of the night.

Jim is frustrated that his boys got themselves in this situation and sends the boys to their rooms when he gets home. He takes their cell phones, computers, and dignity away. He’s angry that they would be so foolish. And yet, after some time of reflection, Jim composes himself only to realize that he has no right to be mad at all at his boys. ‘They didn’t do anything wrong,’ he tells himself. ‘Why am I so upset?’

Jim realizes that he is upset with his boy’s because there may be a chance that someone might conclude that Jim’s family just isn’t as perfect as they may have thought. Maybe, just maybe, someone saw Jim in the school parking lot in the middle of that night, and maybe those people began to think that Jim didn’t have it all together.

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