Sweet Sixteen

Or is it? I mean, when a boy turns 16, is it a sweet sixteen or something else?

Our second born is sixteen today. It’s hard to believe.

I still remember when he crawled into our bed every night; when he knew every little detail about dinosaurs and Thomas the Tank Engine. I remember that his first book fair purchase in kindergarten was the “Field Guide to the Night Sky” and he read it in bed every night. And he adored his big sister.

Well, he has grown and a lot has changed, but not really. He doesn’t crawl into our bed anymore, and he knows a lot more than just dinosaurs and Thomas. He loves to wax philosophical, or just mathematical, and to debate theology and politics. He enjoys stargazing and would do it a lot more of it if we didn’t live under a forest of trees. And while it isn’t obvious, I think he still adores his big (albeit shorter) sister and is an amazing big brother.

So to our “sweet” 16 year old boy. Happy birthday Samuel Porter! I love you!

Why It's Been 17 Years

On Saturday Chelsea treated me to a manicure. It was the first time in 17 years that I had my nails done by a professional.

And this is why it has been 17 years….

This photo was taken a mere 48 hours after the manicure. Rest assured, one of the chips was there 6 hours after.

No matter how careful I try to be, I smudge, chip and dent my nails.

I used to be able to blame it on being a mom of 3 young kids. You know, diapers, potty training, dishes, toys, house cleaning, car seats, strollers, etc etc. But my kids are now 18, 16 (this week!) and 10. And I did not do any dishes this weekend. Nor did I clean my house. No excuses. It must be the tom-boy in me.

Sigh… I enjoyed the manicure and the look. But it’s just not worth doing it regularly.

I think next time we’ll do a pedicure.

My Dad

My Dad passed away last week after suffering a second stroke. I am so thankful that I was able to be with him in his last few days and at the very end. To thank him for being such a great dad when I was growing up; to tell him that I will never forget how much he loved me; to remind that he has 13 grandkids that he has left a legacy to; and to let him know that we are going to be ok.

My Dad wasn’t anyone famous nor did he have a long list of outstanding accomplishments. But he was my Dad. And I learned a lot from him. He taught me to ride a bike, throw a ball (not like a girl!), ride a motorcycle and drive a car. And he taught me some things just by living his life while I watched. Some things I learned from him because he did them well. Some things I learned from watching his mistakes. That’s the great thing about dads. You can learn from them in the good and bad.

My Dad and me:

Below is what I shared at my Dad’s memorial service.

“We are here to give you a glimpse of who our dad was.

It is easy to list out so many things about Philip McNutt so that you can know more about him. Born on September 23, 1942 in Cushing Oklahoma, raised in Okmulgee and Morris. The only child of John and Jane McNutt, who owned and operated a small drugstore. He became an electrical engineer working in Texas, Saudi Arabia, Arkansas, and eventually this area. He loved Dr. Pepper, Ham radios, Mexican food and his motorcycles.

But these things do not tell who our father was. As we considered the things about our father that we would like to share with you today, a passage of scripture from Galatians, in the New Testament, came to mind.

“But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” Galatians 5:22.

This past week, when we knew my father was in his last days, I asked friends from over the years to share memories of my Dad so that I could remind him of all the people who love him and remember him fondly. I received many stories. Some funny – some touching. But always, without exception, the emails or messages were finished off with comments like this: I will always remember how kind and patient your father was. And what joy he brought with his hearty laugh and his smile.

All of these attributes were apparent in my Dad while I was growing up, but his biggest gift to me was his faithfulness, gentleness and love.

My Dad was faithful: steady, reliable, loyal, trusted. He was a faithful husband. A faithful father. And a faithful friend. While our family lived in Saudi Arabia, my sister and I attended boarding school for our high school years. Both living in the middle east and attending the Stony Brook School were amazing experiences in my life and have shaped me into who I am today. While my sister and I were at Stony Brook, and our parents were in Arabia, my father wrote to each one of us every single week. Without fail, there was a hand-written letter in my mailbox updating me on all that was going on at home.

My Dad was also very gentle. His words were gentle as were his ways. Whether it was in discipline or confrontation or just day to day interaction, he was gentle. His gentleness combined with his humility made it so easy to hold him in high regard. And everywhere he went he was held in high regard. Even as he entered into the remote territories of Arabia to administer bringing electricity to those areas, his gentle ways, and his unique red hair, often meant that he became the honored guest in the Bedouin tents, where they served him endless coffee and tea (neither of which he liked) and always the most desired part of the meal – the goat’s eyeballs.

But what I treasure most from my Dad is the love that he showed me. I never doubted his love for me. His love was most often in deed, whether he was providing for us, guiding us or playing with us. And after I was married, he did all he could to make sure that my husband would love me as a godly husband should. For several years early in our marriage, my Dad took Dave (as well as Robin and Wes) to Promise Keeper events to encourage him as a young husband and father.

I pray that when my children experience these godly qualities in me, they will know they are of God’s spirit, and that I first experienced these qualities through my father. I will forever be grateful to my father for his love, his gentleness and his faithfulness.”

Here are my kids being goofy with Grandpa a few years ago.

Here he is sharing his love of motorcycles with my kids.

I miss him already.