"Blame Uncle John"

Since I can't be at my brother's 50th birthday roast, I wrote this poem in his...er..."honor"!


"A Motherʼs Words of Warning to Her Children"

by Johnʼs little sister Cheri


Your mother thinks girls absolutely do math,
Sheʼs often sarcastic, sardonically laughs.
She reckons dark chocolate is sine qua non.
Like brother like sister, so BLAME UNCLE JOHN.

Your mom fears the contents of closets at dark;
Stays clear of the ocean for fear of sand sharks.
She still has no clue where the Rook cards have gone;
For all this and more, you must BLAME UNCLE JOHN!

Your mom begins weeping at sauce oʼtabasco,
Due to a cruel “cherry juice” jar fiasco.
Itʼs been forty years since that henious con.
He should feel ashamed, as we BLAME UNCLE JOHN!

He taught you a card game called “fifty-two pickup”;
Held up a small branch, shouting, “This is a stick up!”
If your sense of humor makes friends groan, “Cʼmon!”
You know where it came from, now. BLAME UNCLE JOHN!

You got into trouble for bird of the Foo,
Told all about Nate and the lever choice, too.
Shared Herman the German from midnight ʻtil dawn.
Such darn awful jokes? Jest BLAME UNCLE JOHN!

Because once a bad guy abruptly appeared,
You donʼt like the sight of a man with a beard.
You wonʼt play Monopoly–losingʼs foregone!
Each fear and each phobia? BLAME UNCLE JOHN!

He taught you that dootsieʼs Armenian for tickle;
That licorice ice cream goes well with a pickle;
You read every sign at each landmark you stop on;
Annoying bad habits? Letʼs BLAME UNCLE JOHN!

Read Uncle Shelbey, a loveable book!
Put trump in the kitty each time you play Rook.
Buy one of each gadget you lay your eyes on.
Cause unrest then protest, then BLAME UNCLE JOHN!

Please pardon this poem–Iʼm better at prose.
My children, this warning soon draws to a close.
Iʼve just three more stanzas, and then whereupon
Youʼll know why itʼs vital to BLAME UNCLE JOHN.

Now in any famʼly each member exalts,
At finding and labeling each otherʼs faults.
And one thing that you two can always depend on;
Point fingers at me, and Iʼll BLAME UNCLE JOHN.

ʻcause shrinks always focus completely on mothers;
Ignoring that most of us have older brothers
To whom, most conveniently, guilt we pass on.
So donʼt blame your mom! Instead, BLAME UNCLE JOHN!

So if you stay up and are tired tomorrow,
Oh, donʼt think of me as the cause of your sorrow!
For everything in your whole life that goes wrong,
Remember–forever–to BLAME UNCLE JOHN!

The Right Replacement

It's in the early 80s. I'm a teenager. A Choleric teenager, to be exact. I hate being told what to do. I want to do my things, in my way, on my time. (Come to think of it, not much has changed in twenty-five years . . . !)

It's family worship time, and I feel persecuted. Imposed upon. I don't want to be here. Family rituals are foolish time-wasters.

My father, in an attempt to draw me in, invites me to read the evening scripture. I don't want to read. I know everything in this book already.

I take the proffered Bible and begin to mechanically read aloud. My mind still stews over the injustice of the situation. I shouldn't have to be here. I'm old enough to be making my own choices. I . . . I . . . I . . .

(If you've ever been texting one person while talking with another and suddenly realize you've mixed up the two conversations, you'll have a feel for what happens next!)

Uh-oh. Something's not right.

I do a quick mental rewind and replay of what I've just spoken. The results are so astonishing, I blurt out, "What did I just say?"

My father -- with amazing vocal and facial restraint -- recites back my last sentence.

What I should have read: "And then God said to the children of Israel..."

But instead of reading the word "God" as clearly spelled out in the text, I've substituted a totally different word: Cheri.

My own name.

What I've actually just spoken aloud: "And then Cheri said to the children of Israel..."

I've unconsciously replaced the name of God with my own name.

I am still amazed by my parents' restraint that day. Oh, the scolding they could have given me! The disrespect! The sacrilege! The blasphemy!

Instead, they left me to the ministrations of the Holy Spirit, who immediately found greater space to work, my super-sized ego being greatly deflated.

I'd love to say that I've only made this embarrassing mistake once in my life. But truth be told, I struggle with this "little" substitution every minute of every day of my life.

I want to do my things, in my way, on my time.

Psalm 46:10a, "Be still and know that I am God," reminds me that the flip side is also true: "Get yourself upset, and believe it's all about Cheri." When I let my mind go off on tangents -- focusing on what I think, what I need, what I want -- I'm at risk of replacing God with myself. What a wretched substitution!

The problem, at least for me, is one of focus. In Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, the shallow self-centered Mildred understands only one sentence from a book: "That favourite subject, myself." I can't stand Mildred as a character, but I identify with her. My mind's favorite focus, its default setting, is Cheri.

Isaiah 26:3 invites me to choose a new focus:

"You will keep in perfect peace...all whose thoughts are fixed on you."

Focus on God instead of myself. Now that's the right replacement.

A Few Clarifying Questions

"God is our refuge and strength, and ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea." (Psalm 46:1-2)

Do I really seek refuge? (Or do I just want to "borrow" God's strength to do my will?)


"Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall; he lifts his voice, the earth melts. The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. . . . Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." (Psalm 46:6, 10)

When do I take time and space to "be still" and "know that He is God"? (Or do I stay stuck in the uproar that surrounds me?)


"Clap your hands, all you nations; shout to God with cries of Joy. . . . Sing praises to God, sing praises; sing praises to our King, sing praises. For God is the King of all the earth; sing to him a psalm of praise." (Psalm 47:1, 6)

How often do I clap in celebration, shout with joy, or even sing in praise? (Or do I forget that He is God of all the earth?)


"Walk about Zion, go around her, count her towers, consider well her ramparts, view her citadels, that you may tell of them to the next generation. For this God is our God forever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end." (Psalm 48:12-14)

What stories of deliverance am I telling to the next generation? (Or do I get lost trying to guide myself?)

Word cloud made with WordItOut

Healthy Marriages Major in History (NOT Math)

It's Marriage Monday over at Chrysalis. Since today is an "open topic," I thought I'd repost a blog that my good friend Kathi Lipp included in her newest book, The Husband Project:


Think about a high school math class: What does the teacher put on the board every day? Problems! What is the math textbook filled with? Problems! What do students have for homework each night? Problems!

And what is the goal with all these problems? Solve them!

In contrast, think about a high school history class. What does the teacher discuss in class? Facts! What is the history textbook filled with? Facts! What do students memorize for quizzes? Facts!

And how do we approach history facts? Do we try to somehow “solve” them? Do we try to change Independence Day from July 4 to, say, May 28? Of course not. We know that we can’t “solve” facts. When it comes to facts, our goal is to accept them, understand them, and learn from them.

So why do I say that a healthy marriage majors in history, not math?

Because one thing I've (finally!) learned is that no matter how I may be feeling at the moment, my husband is never “a problem”! He does not need me to “solve” him. “Math mode” simply does not work for marriage.

“History habits,” on the other hand, strengthen marriage. My husband is a living, breathing, walking, talking collection of facts. And he needs me to accept him, understand him, and learn from him.

What does this look like in day-to-day living?

Back when Daniel and I were dating, I was an expert at “history habits” -- I focused on my beloved’s strengths and liberally exercised my bragging rights, telling everyone what he was famous for.

After marriage, however, I quickly slipped into “math mode.” Whenever things didn’t go the way I wanted, I switched to critical thinking, focusing on my husband’s weaknesses, trying harder and harder to “solve” the problem: him!

What might this switch sound like if a woman is married to a Popular Sanguine? While dating him, she might have written a letter like this:


Dear Mom & Dad,

I’m in love with the most WONDERFUL man!

He’s an incredible conversationalist. He is never at a loss for words; I sit and listen to him for hours.

Everyone invites us to parties, because he is so much fun -- always in the middle of any crowd! And such a storyteller . . . he’s so expressive, he holds everyone spellbound!

I love everything about this man, and I always will!


After a few years of marriage, however, she might end up lamenting to a friend, over coffee:

Oh Karen!

I have had it up to here with this man!

You know the country song, “A Little Less Talk, and a Lot More Action”? I could so do with a LOT LESS TALK! The man is a motor mouth with no “off” button!

It’s embarrassing at parties -- he always has to be the center of attention. He tells the same stories over and over again, never remembering that he’s told the SAME stories to the SAME people a dozen times already.

Will he ever grow up? What happened to the man I fell in love with?


Indeed, what has happened? What has changed? Nothing but her perspective. She’s stuck in “math mode,” focused on his weaknesses, trying desperately to “solve” someone she once vowed to accept.

One thing I've learned is how easily I can overlook my husband's myriad strengths and fixate my attention on a few particularly annoying (to me!) weaknesses. When I get stuck in "math mode," joy and intimacy are subtracted from our marriage.

So, now it's your turn: What do you do to practice "history habits" and purposefully focus on your spouse's strengths?