A big bonus for me was that I was finally going to experience this helpful assistant with the cool computer voice accent named Siri. My other GPS helpers have always been my friend in time of need for direction. The English speaking Tom Tom lady in the van always helps me get turned around and guides me on and off the “motor way” with ease. She has brought laughter on many occasions with comments like, “Bear right 100 yards”, causing my son and I to go into our redneck routine and look for the “bear” off to the right somewhere ahead.

So, I introduced myself to Siri with some new excitement.  I am an older kid with a new toy. “Siri, give me directions to The Peoples Church in Spring Hill, TN”.  She calculated and gave me the first directions for the journey.

Let me interrupt right here to tell you that I am direction-impaired. I don’t know if there is an actual medical or mental condition by that name, but where I grew up, it was described like this, “He couldn’t find his way out of a wet paper sack.”

My amazing wife has helped me with this problem for decades now. She will patiently, now almost even unconsciously, tell me to turn at the appropriate time, or warn me of an upcoming exit or of a missed street and the need to turn around.  She was GPS (Good Partner Service) long before satellites tracked me along my journeys. However she is not always with me and my surrogate helpers have been my GPS ladies.

So, you see how Siri was my anticipated support when Rona wasn’t with me. She was glad for me (and looking forward to a break when we ride together I think).

Luckily, I had my experienced navigator/co-pilot in the van with me on this maiden voyage with Siri. She had printed directions and was carefully eyeing the road signs to confirm Siri’s directions were accurate.  They weren’t.  The good news is we saw new back roads in Tennessee. More good news is that Rona helped me know when her commands were not only questionable, but terribly wrong. After a few miles, I sadly turned Siri off when we realized she was trying to take me to a completely different city.

Ok, strike one on that Siri experience.  I defended her by saying it was probably an Apple Maps dysfunction that led her astray.

Yesterday, I am driving and wanted to safely call my friend Jeremy.  I asked Siri, “Will you call Jeremy?” She replies, “I don’t have your call history.”  Humm.  I must have asked the question wrong.  So, I tried again, “Can you find Jeremy on my contact list?”  Siri, (I think she was smirking  but I am not sure, I was keeping my eyes on the road) says, “I never really thought about that.” What?  Siri-ously! Strike two.

My final try came late yesterday afternoon. I was in east Nashville, glowing inside from a great Chicago hot dog and also not sure of the best route to get back on the “motorway”. I told Siri, ( I didn’t ask her this time) “Give me directions home.” Siri says, “I don’t have your home address.  Would you like to add it now?” Ok, now we are communicating.  My phone contacts opens up and I enter my home address.  Boom! Siri is on it.  Perfect coordinates through the city street maze and I have my hoped for travel assist help.

I don’t know how Siri and I will do together in the future, but I do know I still prefer my wife beside me.

Safe Cycle verses the unsafe cycle:

SAFE CYCLE™
CONFLICT → Stabilize →Agreement → Forward → Enjoy

UNSAFE CYCLE
CONFLICT → Chaos →Disagreement →Stuck → Misery

The plane was leaving early on Wednesday morning.  Tickets were purchased, the products were made, the events planned, the local hosts were expecting the arrival with great anticipation!

There was a problem.  The star of the show had decided not to go.

The impasse was about to jeopardize months of planning and thousands of dollars to be lost in upfront expenses for the event.

I immediately changed my schedule for the day and went to work. I was energized by the challenge.  The urgency, the high stakes of the decisions that needed to be made within the next few hours were a stimulus for action.

I am a mediator.  At the most basic level of definition, mediation is facilitated negotiation.   I help two or more “parties” (people) have a conversation that ultimately reaches a mutually agreed upon settlement. I do not have to be an expert on the subject in dispute.  I rely on the process I know very well to help people move from being stuck to collaborative action toward a solution.

A few phone calls, a two-hour mediation meeting and it was solved. It can be that simple.

If you have conflict, or know of someone who does, remember to have them give me a chance to help before additional hurt or legal proceedings occur.

The three children I talk about (a lot) are the ones I saw born. I have held them, laughed with them, cried with them and everything else that comes with parenting.

Ok, let’s see where we are now. 3 + (?) = 3 for sure. What about the other two, you wonder? I did introduce myself as a father of five.

Well, those two are the ones I don’t talk about. I haven’t spoken of them to more than a handful of people ever. I don’t think about them very often either. But sometimes I do and it makes me sad. Just mentioning them now stirs my inside, churning me with emotions that I usually can press down, push over, block, or ignore. You know probably what I am talking about; when you have a memory that is not pleasant and you try to remove it from your mind but it is still there in the background.

Why am I dragging this out? What’s the deal with the other two children? Did they make bad choices or embarrass me in some way? No, they never had a chance to do anything right or wrong. They were taken from the womb before they were old enough to go it on their own. I still am dragging my feet here, funny, well not really funny like “ha ha”. Strange may be a better word, or difficult to just say the “A” word.

They were aborted.

There I said it.

Am I relieved to get that off my chest? No, I didn’t think so at first. As I have let it settle into my mind that I am free of the long-term storage fees, I do feel relief.

Do I feel any better about it now that more than a few people know that has happened in my life? I can only respond with “maybe”. My feelings on how it is received and acted on will be the determining factor on that answer.

Will I regret sharing this information? I hope not, only if it brings additional harm and not healing.

If I get defensive and seek to justify what happened, I start to talk about those early years of my life in rebellion; a “prodigal” from my Christian upbringing.

When I get real, I say both abortions were terrible things to have happened.

But when I own it I admit the abortions were wrong and tragic events that I caused.

Yes, it took two people to get pregnant. However in both cases, I was the pursuing party, seeking my own selfish pleasure and without self-control to with-strain my desires and respect the women. Did they agree to have consensual sex with me? Yes.

Don’t miss my point, especially my pointed finger to myself and other men who may read this. I could have prevented the death of my two children by not helping to create them. I put two women in a situation that they had to make a choice that I wish, so wish, they never had to make. One I knew about and let it happen. The other I was told after it was done.

There are complications in my sharing of this long-held, “Classified” information.

First, the women that chose to abort the pregnancies I helped cause don’t know I am sharing this and have not given me permission. “Oh, well tell it anyway, it’s your story” is one thought. However, I continue to remind myself that it is not just my story and I must respect their privacy to process through the post-abortion life in their own way. They haven’t asked me how I am doing, how I feel about any of it; as a matter of fact, I don’t have contact information on either to even approach them. I wish I could share more of the details; it would probably be helpful to others. But as it is now, I won’t.

Second, by bringing this up, and out, I cause a lot of attention to my life and my past. That is not comfortable, especially since I am like everyone else I have ever really known; I have made mistakes in choices and behavior. To have people sorting through the facts of my stories, like a browser at the yard sale is disconcerting at best. In most areas of my life, past and present, I am an open book. In this area I have fiercely guarded the lid on the box from even cracking open a little.

Third, revealing myself to others has caused to me examine the evidence carefully before presenting it. As I thought back over the emotions and mental struggles I had after the abortions, I recounted other consequences that were a result of  loss and pain that I needed to acknowledge. There were also issues that had occurred in my life before the “wild” days that contributed to my bad decisions and actions. It all has been a lot to process internally and sort out.  It has been worth it.

Privacy for the other people is showing respect that I didn’t show before. Letting people in on my secret is risky but also, somehow freeing. To let a burden be shared with others can make it lighter. There is a level of healing by letting it out and there is a sense of purpose from it — if the telling helps someone else that is burdened or if it prevents it from occurring in someone else’s life. Again, I say it is all worth it.

I am committed to helping other men get relief from their past.  The reality is that if a baby you helped conceive was aborted, that was your child too. Your can’t raise him or her now, however you can let the life count for something.

Days before the news of the upcoming 40th anniversary of the Roe vs. Wade and Doe vs. Bolton decisions, I had old, locked down memories flood by into my mind. I know it was God prompting them because I had not read or heard any comments about abortion issues prior to that moment. I did not know why I suddenly had those memories but they came strong, clear and convicting. Once the news began to break and commentaries flowed I realized that I was being awakened to something that God wanted me to deal with personally and publicly.

My first reaction was one of anxious-to-moderate panic. “Oh no, I can’t go back into that area of my life. The lid on that box is sealed!” Then I thought, “Yes, I must open that area of my life and let it be completely healed and the seeds from its release be planted in other’s hearts to do the same for them.

The scripture John 12:24 came to mind, “unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain.” Though this refers to Jesus talking about Himself and His crucifixion, death, burial and resurrection, I couldn’t help to also see it as the secrets we hold onto “alone” in our lives if shared out into the light can bring about more healing.

A Vision

This image and words came into my mind — I saw a crowd of men so large I could not image the number. Some on their knees, some standing, some leaning on others, some with hands stretched out to the heavens, some with hands over their eyes, their hearts, and their mouths. It was a sea of anguish.

As I looked at the men the Lord spoke into my spirit to help them. “How?” I asked. He said softly, ‘Begin with yourself.’ I committed that I would with His help. I felt His peace and comfort fill me immediately.

Then He said more firmly that, ‘The sea of blood the men are standing and kneeling in I have kept from your eyes.’ He had protected my eyes from the depth of it and its cry for justice. I sensed that His anger burns against the death of the innocent. His heart is broken from our apathy and impotence in preventing the killing of the children.

His words ended with, ‘Go and tell your story and have your burden lifted. Tell of My forgiveness for your sins and restoration of your spirit; then minister comfort and hope to other men. Encourage them to confess their sins of commission, or omission, in the murderous acts of abortion.’

My story next…

Perspective in situations involving conflict if is very helpful to look at the details and the big picture to have a good view.

Hum…how so you ask?  There before me was a Pimento Cheese Sandwich.  It was complete enough in itself, ready to be eaten. Beside it sat half an avocado left over from the Chicken Tortellini Soup with cheese and avocado chunks that had been served and eaten earlier.

When two people are able to combine their interests in a new way it can become more that either had thought or imagined earlier.  A mediator can help that merger of ideas become an agreement.  Done well it can be a durable, mutually agreed upon settlement.

So, the new sandwich, the merger of previously separate, stand alone ingredients is an example of that kind of merger. Apart they were good, together they were great!  One difference in the lunch illustration and my mediated settlement description is that my sandwich was not a lasting merger. I ate it within seconds!

Now I would like to ask any boiled egg peelers this; why do you do it that way?

Did you just decide to do it that way, or observe someone with that technique, or find that method worked better after attempting another way?

Here are some other questions that I have wondered about:
• When you put your pants on which leg do you put in first? Why?
• When you put your socks on which foot do you put in first? Why?
• When you put your shoes on which foot do you put in first? Why?
• When you put your sweater on which arm do you put in first? Why?
• When you put your Jacket/coat on which arm do you put in first? Why?
• When you slalom ski, or skate board, which foot do you put in front? Why?
• When you open a door which hand to you use? Why?

The list can go on and on.

Do you see the theme here?

Why do we do what we do?

Is it genetically programmed, like a natural bent to be left or right-handed that determines which hand or foot we will prefer or the action we take?

Is it a learned behavior or the way someone else showed us to do it?

Obviously, I am not looking for a most correct way to do any of these things. I just wanted to have you think about what you do, be aware of the way you do things. Then consider why you do what you do.

Where did the programming for that almost unconscious habit originate?

When you pause and think about it, what impact does it have on your consideration for other things you do… or say?

Become conscience of the things you do, or say that you don’t think about.  How will that help you with conflict?

From football to politics to people who don’t understand how to just wait in line for a roller coaster like a decent human being, conflict is all around us. Here are some tips for quashing conflict when it arises:

Talk It Out: Avoid conflict altogether by telling the other person why you are upset. Listen to their wrong opinions and then interrupt them to remind them of all the stuff you just said.

Use a Moderator: A neutral friend can remind you that conflict is useless in a world where time is fleeting and the only arguments that really matter are the ones sexy people have on reality TV.

Stay Calm: Don’t let emotion get the best of you. Argue with the cold, dry wit of a robot—but not a nice, human-like robot, just a robot that’s like a vending machine or a self-propelled vacuum.

Use Your Fists: When worse comes to worse and words have failed, extend your fists toward your enemy and lift up your thumbs. This “thumbs up” position means “OK, I’m ready to fight.”