The True Story of My Dad (Superman's Cousin)

My little brother and I were in our bedroom conducting gravitational experiments with our spit. From the top bunk we were hanging over the edge to see how close to the floor we could hang a string of spit from our mouths before it would break off and splat. I know, that's gross! But I was seven and seven year old boys revel in any new and creative way to outdo the last gross thing.

George Reeves, Jr.
Playing Superman

In this case we had been "experimenting" for about 15 minutes when my father burst into the room. Apparently he had passed the age of appreciation for disgusting displays of splatology as was evidenced by the familiar "Boys, this is going to hurt me worse than it's going to hurt you."

He reached up to snatch me off the top bunk but before he got to me his foot hit that puddle of failed experiments that had built up on the tiled floor, causing him to slip and then sail across the room before coming down on his pancreas. Yeah, let's go with pancreas. I told him that it did look like it hurt him worse than it hurt me. I was wrong.

The next day I asked him how he knew we were in the bedroom spitting on the floor, since the door was closed. "Well son," he  said, "it's like this, I am Superman's cousin and I have super powers." I immediately questioned his claim because I had not been impressed with his flying demonstration the previous day. He quickly let me know that his super power was X-ray vision and that he could see through walls. Like I said, I was seven years old and what seven year old doesn't believe it when his dad tells him something like that?

I did the natural thing which was go to school and tell everybody that my dad was Superman's cousin and by my calculations, this made me Superman's second cousin. My claim was immediately dismissed and right to my face I was told that both my dad and I were liars. Nobody is going to call my dad a liar and get away with it. Especially about something as serious as being a super hero. I fought in defense of his integrity but didn't fare too well. It turns out that super powers skip a generation and I couldn't hold my own against Jimmy or the rest of the third grade.

I began having doubts about his story when our neighbor, Moose, from the local chapter of the Hell's Angels Motorcycle Club heard me bragging about my father's super powers. He told me to go get my dad to come outside so he could... on second thought there is no need to spell out what Moose was threatening to do. The point is that I was faced with this challenge to go tell my dad that Moose wanted him to come out so he could do it. I gladly accepted the challenge on my dad's behalf and went home to get him. He just needed to come out and make an appearance. Just flex his powers to prove he was who he said he was and that would be the end of it.

On the way home I hesitated.  What if he came out and by some slim chance got beat up by Moose. I mean, Moose was a big guy with a bad reputation. What then? What if it turned out that my dad only had X-ray vision, or worse, was just human? Doubt overcame me and I feared the possibilities. I didn't go get my dad.  I didn't talk about it at school anymore, and I didn't go near Moose's house for a long time either, in hopes that he would just forget about the matter entirely. I'm guessing that he has forgotten about it by now. I didn't even mention this incident to my dad until recently. He had a great laugh.

I know that it was a story my dad made up to have fun with me but looking back, I was willing to fight for him and his integrity. I was willing to believe that he was cousin to a fictional character. I was a bit disappointed over time when I came to the realization that he was not super human after all. But I still think fondly about those early days when I believed and the lengths I was willing to go because of my belief. I wondered if I would ever feel that way again? Willing to accept the tough challenges, like Moose. Thankfully, yes!  

Although my dad is simply human and imperfect, I love him. But, I have a heavenly Father who is perfect and is who He says He is. Thanks to my experience with my dad, I didn't immediately believe in God and His all knowing, all powerful, always present self. But I opened myself up to the possibility that it could be true. I dared to believe a little at a time and found that not only is He God, He is The Creator and He made me in His image and His powers did not skip a generation.

Because of God's super-human power, I have witnessed greater things than speed faster than a bullet or strength stronger than a locomotive. I have seen hate turn to love. I have seen death defeated. I have seen needs met, right on time. And I have seen him restore the relationship of a father and son, my dad and me, after years of not speaking or seeing one another. This is the God I am willing to stand with, to obey, and to lay my life down for.

God paved a way for us to get to Him by coming in the flesh, in Jesus Christ. He didn't have to but He chose to because He loves you and me. He doesn't want us to just get by, He gives us the Holy Spirit to help build His Kingdom and to live a life full of peace and joy and power. When we are willing to accept His power on His terms, that good feeling of a boy toward his dad the super hero is magnified way beyond words or imagination.  I invite you to accept Him as your heavenly Father today. 

For questions, comments, or booking information feel free to contact me directly at 419-961-1265, by e-mail at dwaynecastle40@yahoo.com, or through my website www.funnybutclean.com. If you enjoyed this please let me know by posting a comment, sharing with others, and/or subscribing to future posts.

The Ugly Mannequin (who are you calling ugly?)

For those of you who don't know me I can be a bit quirky. For those that do know me I can hear you saying "Duh!" Sometimes, and I'm sure I am the only one, I say or do foolish things. I call this condition: Accidental Inappropriateness or AI for short.

This is NOT an ugly mannequin

I believe the first manifested episode struck me as a teenager, while walking with a friend through the old Harts department store in Delaware, Ohio. My eye was caught by two mannequins that were similarly dressed and posed closely together. The first was posed naturally. Not human naturally, but mannequin naturally. The second was posed human naturally, just standing there motionless the way mannequins do.


The first one looked like a normal everyday store mannequin. If it was in a warehouse full of mannequins you would not be able to pick it out from any of the others. I know the thought of being in a warehouse full of mannequins is a bit freaky for some so I apologize for the imagery. The second one was different than the first in that it was ugly. I had never seen an ugly mannequin before. I always thought they were supposed to be beauty neutral, well, as much as I thought about things like that.

I commented to my friend as I pointed, "That is an ugly mannequin."  I did not whisper it to him since it wasn't a secret. Other people had to have realized that it was an ugly mannequin, too. Because I was being funny, I even put heavy emphasis on the "Ug", drawing it out a couple extra seconds... "Uuuuggggggly". And then we laughed.

I don't know why I had an opinion on the aesthetics of a life-sized, plastic clothing model. I saw it. It was ugly. I said so. Unfortunately, the "mannequin" turned out to be a lady who just happened to not be moving when I had looked at her. I realized this after she looked at me and said "excuse me?".

I  couldn't play it off. When I pointed and made my exclamation it was obvious about whom I was speaking. What could I say? "Oh, wow! Sorry, lady. I thought you were a mannequin. For a lady you are okay". I would never call another person ugly or intentionally hurt their feelings. That's just not me. And now I will never knock a mannequin either.

What's my point? Although the great mannequin debacle of 1985 was truly a mistake on my part, a case of AI, how many times have I made the same types of judgement knowing that it was a real, living, breathing human being? How many times have I put down someone else's point of view, intelligence, circumstances, appearance or some other lack of normalcy? Maybe I never intentionally pointed at someone and called them ugly or stupid but I know I have thought it.  I know I have made snide comments or jokes. And we all know that's okay as long as I was just kidding, right? Wrong. That was sarcasm.

Look, we live in a society that is broken. Countless people are physically, mentally, relationally, financially and/or spiritually challenged. Some are adversely affected by the poor choices that they or some other person made.

We who believe we have it all together tend to judge from high up on our perch, those who don't. We tend to believe that what we initially see on the surface is all there is to a person. Well, these are people not lifeless, soulless mannequins. And when we indulge in crude and harsh thought or commentary about them, or bully them, we are simply projecting the insecurity of our own inner man. When we judge, we are reflecting the condition of our own heart and quite possibly crushing another human being in the process, whether we mean to or not.

I would like to encourage you with this post to consider the people around you. Those in your sphere of influence that are maybe not what you would consider "normal." Then, imagine that person as your child. Will you go out of your way to love them? You know, the way Jesus went out of His way to love you. I hope so.

If you enjoyed this post, please subscribe, share with others, and drop me a line. If you are interested in booking me for your event as a motivational speaker or comedian, check out my site at www.funnybutclean.com or e-mail me at dwaynecastle40@yahoo.com. I can also be reached directly by phone at 419-961-1265. 

We've All Got Stuff

I was booked to do a motivational presentation at a corporate function. That's one of the things I do. I travel around and share with anybody who will listen that they have a future just waiting to meet them and with the right attitude, it can be shaped into something extraordinary. I share with people the need to look beyond their circumstances and help them move into better living.

Well, let's just say as I was preparing for it, I had a moment of doubt as to why I, of all people, am doing a motivational presentation.  Now, my friend Derrick Tennant, he is a motivational speaker. Because of an injury as a child he was told he wouldn't walk again. He has experienced brain surgery, coma, and paralysis. He spent a portion of his life in a wheelchair and after much rehab and even more determination, he does walk, even with limited use of his whole left side.

He is also funny and has a great attitude which is a winning combination for a motivational speaker. He can share his story with people in a way that makes them feel like "wow, if he can deal with that and come out laughing, then I guess my situation isn't so bad." His goal is to motivate people to overcome their obstacles and move on to better living.

Well, I've been through stuff in my life, too. I won't share it with you here and now because I've just shared Derricks with you. My stuff doesn't compare with his. He has a way better hook than I do. And as a motivational speaker, that just isn't fair. "Gee Dwayne, that sounds like kind of a jerk thing to say". I agree. Trust me, I wouldn't have posted this if Derrick didn't fully agree with the content and the point that I am about to make.

"Well, what is the point you are about to make, jerk?" Well, stick with me for a moment and I'll tell you.  I recently spent some time in Nashville with Derrick and some of my other funny friends at the Christian Comedy Association Conference. I also spent this past weekend with several people who have seriously extreme stories of overcoming.

These are people who have overcome physically debilitating injuries or addictions. People who have gone from convicted murderer to productive member of society. And people who have suffered the horrific loss of children and all are now sharing about living a life for Christ. These people are awesome and God has big plans for them. He has spared them and they are using their time and opportunities to share about the importance of right choices, right attitudes and Jesus Christ in their lives.

The point I am making is this: most people tend to view their own life story in the context of the story of someone else. We look at our lives as being either better or worse than another life. And the problem with that is that it unduly minimizes us or them. Looking at life in comparison to that of someone else can cause us to see in terms of what is "fair" or what we "deserve" when we really should be looking at life for what it is: life.

My story is mine and yours is yours and we each have a choice to be content with the way it's unfolding or to make changes. It's good to encourage others or be encouraged by the overcoming of obstacles in life. That's exactly what we are supposed to do. But don't make the mistake of minimizing a life story, not even your own. You, me, Derrick, all of us, we matter. God loves us all and has plans for each of us. The question really is this: Are you going to spend your time comparing yourself with others, or getting on board His plan for your life?

Checkout my friend Derrick at his site www.leftarmcomedy.com. For my booking information, check me out at www.funnybutclean.com, by e-mail at dwaynecastle40@yahoo.com, or by phone at 419-961-1265. And if you like the blog posts, subscribe and share.

Get Up and Get Going

What a week! I'm preparing for our first major outdoor youth event and neighborhood block party which takes place all day Saturday.  I'm also preparing for my performance at a benefit, that takes place immediately afterward. My pastor (and good friend) along with his family, are moving out of the country in less than a week, on a weeks notice and I'm trying to help our church with the transition. I just came back from visiting a dear friend in the hospital (she's doing well). And, by the way, my oldest daughter and her husband just moved to Cambodia for six months of missionary work. As I type this, I'm waiting to hear that they landed safely in Phnom Penh. "What a week" may be a bit of an understatement.

An amazing woman and me

I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that we took a vacation with our world traveling kids as kind of a big "hurrah" before their trip. While there, we went para-sailing and I thought this would be an appropriate time to share.

I've been sky-diving before, but this was different. You first have to straddle one of two yellow tubes that make up a "banana boat" as it motors you from the beach to a waiting speedboat. On this particular day, the water was so choppy that the group ahead of us hit a wave and we watched as several of the passengers were tossed from the banana boat, into the Atlantic. Surely, we wouldn't be allowed to go if it was unsafe, right?  

It was a bumpy ride to the waiting watercraft but, surprisingly, we were all there for the headcount.  Once aboard, the boat's captain put it in to high gear, bouncing us through the water. Coincidentally, this was the same time some of the passengers began questioning their prior meal choice.

Samantha and Andy went first. Since he is not keen on heights I was filled with a mixture of pride, in him facing his fear, and joy, in seeing the man who took my baby girl away, squirm as he was harnessed in. They were up in the air for about 10 minutes as the captain turned the boat this way and that, lunging up and down, apparently trying to find new ways to dislodge our internal organs while, I believed, yanking our kids around the sky.

They were reeled in and suddenly it was our turn. We had no time to debrief them about the experience, so I had no idea what to expect. We were harnessed in, given the last second instructions (don't undo your harness, you will fall), and away we went, quickly ascending just as you would expect of a kite when the wind catches it.

Once the line stopped and we reached maximum altitude, we looked down and could see the wake as the boat knifed its way through the water, the white trail behind it disappearing only when the ocean covered it up. The boat was zigging and zagging, presumably giving the on board passengers a new respect for Dramamine.  For some reason I thought we would be pulled to and fro, in time and rhythm with the boat below, but I was wrong.

We discovered that although there was much activity happening down there, "up here" where we were was calm.  So calm in fact that Deborah and I managed a beautiful conversation about something or other. I can't recall specific details of that conversation right now, but that isn't the point. The point is this... high above the situation, we were unaffected by what was happening below. No chaos, no commotion. It didn't matter what craziness seemed to be happening under us, it was all good up top.

This is a huge time of transition for me and my family, my friends and my church. It seems as if there is some form of change taking place everywhere, maybe even in your corner. When we are in the middle of it, that change can feel like turmoil and sometimes seems as if it won't end. But, if you could get above your situation you would realize that it's all relative and it will pass.

You see, this life is temporary, as are the trials and transitions that come with it. If I didn't have an eternal perspective which allows me to step back and see it for what it is, I'd probably go nuts. Instead, I can find peace and joy even in the midst of the chaos. I am so thankful that Jesus sent me a comforter that allows me to enjoy the changes in this life, or helps me to get through the tough ones. 

Samantha and her loves
from her previous trip

Do you feel like you are in rough seas? Maybe you just need a new perspective. If you would like to know more about Jesus, The Comforter, or this eternal perspective I mentioned, I am happy to share. 

By the way, the kids have landed safely and are already hard at work in the mission field. Please remember to pray for them (and for us).

Subscribe to my blog, comment on it and share it with others. Book me for your next event today! I can be reached on-line at www.funnybutclean.com,  by e-mail at dwaynecastle40@yahoo.com or by phone at 419-961-1265. And please don't forget to check out my advertisers. 

Learning to live (like a squirrel)

Like a squirrel? Are you nuts? Well, maybe a little but finish reading  the entire post before making an evaluation of my mental state. As I go on to describe this, I know you will think it sounds kind of Disneyesque or maybe even contrived. All I can say is that it is all true and there are lessons to be learned if you stick with me.

You see, we have a bird feeder that hangs from a branch on a tree out back. We watch the animals from the deck or through the kitchen window. Whenever we fill it up, we  also sprinkle some feed on the ground and the squirrels and rabbits show up to  snack. When the birds feed, they make a mess spilling it onto the ground as kind of a bonus for the congregating rodents below. (For my wife's benefit, please note with all sincerity that the term rodent is being used in a purely "Animal Planet" phylum/genus kind of way, not in a derogatory manner.)

We soon realized we could learn a lot from a squirrel. I am not talking about all squirrels or even squirrels in general. Just one, different and specific squirrel.  A lone, black squirrel.  For almost two years our back yard has been visited by several gray squirrels at a time, but one day this particular squirrel arrived on the scene and really shook things up in the world of squirrel. When I say different, I don't just mean in appearance, I mean in attitude. 

Up to this point, all of the squirrels were content getting their food from the ground. That's even what the new guy did when he showed up.  But it didn't take long for him to start looking up at the bird feeder, the source, seeming to ponder the possibilities. "Why do I have to wait for the food to come to me? Why can't I go get it? What's stopping me?" And that's when things changed. We watched for several days. While the other squirrels kept their faces buried in the grass, scavenging, this one would frequently look up almost longingly at the floating storehouse above. 

Apparently he couldn't take it any longer because one morning he climbed the tree, jumped onto the roof of the garage, jumped onto the branch holding the birdfeeder and climbed straight down to it. He gripped the plastic feeder, slipped, and fell the 6 feet to the ground. He climbed back up the tree, and started the process again. 

It took a few tries, but pretty soon he was mastering it, holding on upside down with his back legs and pulling the food out with his front paws. I am assuming that's what you call squirrel hands... paws. He had this entire feeder, to himself. No foraging, just him and the source. And whenever it was emptied, it would miraculously fill back up. Okay, it wasn't really a miracle. It was Deborah or I filling it up so we could continue enjoying the show, but to a squirrel, maybe it seemed miraculous.

Now, during his failed attempts, his furry friends didn't pay him any attention, other than to look up at him every now and then, probably trying to figure out his game. As a matter of fact, they never really paid attention to him before then either. On hindsight, they had been kind of stand-offish with him since his arrival. After all, he was different. Who can really know the thoughts of a squirrel? And by the way, when  A.D.D. squirrels' get distracted, do the other squirrels mock him with cries of "Human!"? (Sorry, I couldn't resist.) My guess is if these particular squirrels were people they were probably thinking that he was a bit crazy and acting weird. 

Of course, once he started missing the ground level feeding frenzy because he had it made, literally in the shade, they were like "Wow! What a great idea. I wonder if I could do that, too?" There were probably some who were thinking, "Hey, why does he get to eat from that thing, all by himself. That's not fair." But since this post isn't about capitalist squirrels vs socialsist squirrels, I am only going to focus on the positive. Some of the squirrels began taking turns at the source and others stayed on the ground, apparently unwilling to take the risk but willing to catch the falling crumbs.

What does any of this have to do with anything my prior posts?  Well, for starters, this squirrel was not content with living a meager existence, simply hoping to catch falling millet that the birds happened to drop down to him. He wanted more and when he found that there was a source for better living he jumped at it. He even failed at first, but kept trying until he got the hang of it. And he didn't seem to mind that he was different, or let the crowd hold him back.

Secondly, when he did better for himself, the squirrels that remained below were blessed because his blessings spilled over. And those that followed him up, found that being closer to the source was much better than foraging on their own. 

I ask you this... Are you content with your circumstances, existing and foraging, or do you want better... more? How close are you to the source? Are you willing to risk, in order to live better? And finally, are you willing to take others with you or will you keep it all to yourself? I want share my source with you. The way to get to Him, is through His son, Jesus. And He doesn't go on vacation, leaving me to fend for myself, the way the squirrels have to, when I go away. If you want more detail, contact me.

If you enjoyed this post, let me know. Share with others, subscribe to future posts and make comments. If you would like me to perform, or speak to your group or church, please contact me at 419-961-1265, dwaynecastle40@yahoo.com, or check out my website at www.funnybutclean.com.

Laugh Like You Are Dying (Thanks a lot Tim McGraw)

My wife can be a bit of a frugal woman. Maybe frugal isn't the right word perhaps "practical" is a better description. Imagine my surprise when she told me that she was purchasing for my daughter and me a skydiving adventure. My oldest daughter and I have always wanted to make a jump together. What better bonding experience than jumping out of an airplane? Admittedly, during her teen years, I am sure we each envisioned shoving one another through the open fusealge door of a 747, but that is another post for another time.

We were both excited at this gift from this amazing woman. I became even more thrilled when I found out that she would be joining us on this adventure. How cool is that? Very cool, since she has always been the quiet and reserved one who, by the way, is afraid of heights.

I did not experience my wife or daughter's experience. From their accounts, and the video proof, all went according to plan and they loved it. My daughter, Samantha, loved it enough that she wants to do it again. My wife, Deborah, loved it enough that she is content savoring that one-time memory and is happy to not attempt duplicating it.

My experience was a bit different from theirs. First off, the way this worked(we each did a tandem jump) was that we each had a jump instructor who affixed his harness to ours. When doing this type of jump, the instructor has two jobs; ensure that I have a safe and enjoyable experience. Safe! And enjoyable! To protect his identity and prevent any sort of litigation, I shall call his name, Incompetence. Pete for short.

We were walking out to the plane and I couldn't help but notice that he looked as if he had just sucked the sour out of a bowl full of lemons. It was easy to notice this, in contrast to the other jump instructors who were all excited about their jobs, high-fiving one another and exclaiming the oft-heard cliche, "Let's go jump out of a perfectly good airplane!"

I expressed to Pete that it seemed as if something was bothering him. He replied to me that he was just having a bad day. In my mind I was wondering what constitutes a bad day for someone who jumps out of planes for a living. Before I could ask him, he added "I can't wait to END THIS" long pause,"week."

I was really hoping things would get better for him, soon, if you know what I mean. Before I knew it,I found myself on the plane, climbing to 10,000 feet. People often ask me why I got on the plane. And that is a great question. My brain actually attempted to prevent that action, but my adrenaline fueled body overcame my brain. Boy, how often have we let our racing bodies put us into situations that our otherwise logical brains or inner Spirit, were screaming "Stop! Run the other way!"

I looked around the plane's interior and saw the nervous and excited smiles from both wife and daughter as well as the several other jumpers. Each of their jump instructors were busy tugging on their harnesses, giving them last minute instructions, laughing with them, pointing out different sites visible beyond the window.

Not Pete. He just sort of sat behind me. Sitting. Quietly. A little unnerving actually. Just a different personality type I guess. My stomach was knotting up as the door to the outside opened, and people began shuffling to the door. The pit of my stomach was flopping violently as Deborah and Samantha each moved forward, attached to the front of their respective instructors' harness. There really is no word that I could come up with to describe the feeling as two of the people I love most in life, were propelled, however willingly, out of an airplane attached to experienced professionals. Maybe helpless, possibly inferiority. But those are about it. Well, foolish comes to mind.

As people were jumping out of the plane, I heard the shrieks of delight for a nano-second before the velocity pulled them away from the plane. I imagined hearing "Wahoo!" and "Wheee". As Pete and I shuffled toward the opening, I distinctly and clearly heard him say "Oops." As you may imagine, that one word caught my attention. I began going through my mental catalog, recalling the many times I had uttered it, but I couldn't recall even once saying it when something good happened. "Oops! I just found 20 bucks." Or "Oops! I just thought up a great joke." No, "oops" always followed something negative that happened, as in "Oops! I broke the lamp" or "Oops! I forgot my wife's birthday."

I asked Pete to clarify what he meant by that and he replied "Oh, it's no big deal, I just had your harness hooked wrong." Now, had this occurred while on the ground I may not have thought much about it. But, since I was standing 2 feet from the open door, nearly 2-miles high, and looking out, it kind of grabbed my attention.

My imagination suddenly realized why he was having such an awful week. He may have been afraid of getting called into the bosses office one more time. "Jones, this is the third time this month you've been in here. You have already dropped two this year. If you come back alone again, we're going to have to let you go."

My brain and my mouth finally synced up and I told him that I had changed my mind about jumping. I will just go back down with the pilot. I followed up my statement with a quick question: "Why is the plane leaving without me?" as it dawned on me that the instructor had launched us out of the plane while I was formulating my instructions about cancelling my "adventure."

I quickly prayed, because that's what I do, "God, please don't let me die, with this idiot on my back!" Suddenly a movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. The shoulder strap on my harness was flapping in the wind. I grabbed it while simultaneously congratulating God on his most excellent sense of humor.

So there I was, falling from 10,000 feet above the Earth. It was all out of my hands at that point. I could do nothing but fall and hope that my fellow falling family members were enjoying themselves at least as much as I was. Hopefully more. Pretty soon my fear was replaced with adrenaline. The endorphines were kicking in and this was suddenly becoming fun.

The wind whipping my face, the green and brown quilted earth below, and the beautiful blue sky dotted with puffs of clouds. This was fantastic and worth it all. Then I felt the pull of the canopy being released, followed by the exclamation by Pete that they had given him a bad parachute.

That's right, his week just got worse. Hard to believe, I know. I immediately found lots of empathy for Pete. It was almost as if they had given ME a bad parachute, too. I prayed again, "God, please forgive me for calling Pete an idiot. I am hoping you kind of see my side on that one. But even if you do, I was wrong and I know it."

I don't know exactly what was wrong with the parachute except that he let me know that the landing was going to "be a little less than comfortable." I did that math really quick in my head, which is weird because I am lousy with numbers. "Approximately 10,000 feet divided by 32 feet per second, times 'a little less than comfortable' equals" this is not going to end well.

Well, here I am, a year later, writing about it so you can relax, it all turned out fine. We came in for a fast landing, he on his feet and me sliding along on my butt. Ecstatic that I was down and elated that my family was there waiting for me.

I learned two very valuable lessons that day. The first was the easiest, which was, discount skydiving is a bad idea. The phrase you get what you pay for becomes abundantly clear in the world of extreme recreational sports.

The second was a bit more complex but way more important. That lesson was summed up best in two words: life happens. Sure we have all heard it, but like me, I'm sure most people need a reminder now and then.

Maybe we have found ourselves in an unfortunate situation because of our poor choices or have allowed our own indecision and apathy to dictate our currently mediocre lifestyle. Possibly, we were put into situations caused by someone else who was having a bad day or a bad life, making bad, careless, hateful or hurtful decisions. Life happens.

But as long as we are breathing we have choices to make. Are we going to allow lifes circumstances to rule over us, causing us to beleive that we are to simply exist in the context of those circumstances? Are we going to be blown about by the whims of others or pushed into a life of constant struggle and mediocrity?

Or, are we going to be conquerors of this life, or as it is written in the good old King James, "more than conquerors"? Are we going to let life control us, or are we going to choose to believe that we have a say in how this life turns out?

I have to admit that I did not see a whole lot of funny in the 10 minute adventure that I have just described. But you better believe that on the way home, I had jokes and my family had laughs. We have a shared memory that nobody can ever take away from us. This confirmed for me that a shared experience, no matter how good, is magnified when we are around those who love us (and somebody always loves us.) And a shared experience, no matter how awful, can be weathered when a little time and distance are added, a bit of humor is sought and a lot of love is present.

It is no lie that life in this world can be cruel and I know my skydiving experience was just a small and humorous illustration of the point I am making. It is my personal belief that the surest ways to achieve a level of living that is in any way close to what God has for us, is to include Him in the journey, find every opportunity to laugh that we can, look for excuses to smile and expect joy.

Did I mention that I am anticipating making another jump? You don't think I would allow one "less than comfortable" experience ruin things for me, do you?