Feast on Summer

On Wednesday, it is August. The July-fly-by is almost complete. Age does not seem to be a factor in how short summer feels; however, the older I get, the longer winter becomes. After watching Frozen 700 times, I've come to the same conclusion after each screening.

Do you want to build a snowman?

No.

Alas, tis the season to soak it in. Last Saturday, I was a combatant in the 25th edition of Barnball, a 2-on-2 basketball tournament on Coon Ridge Road; simple by description, complex for the psyche. I first stepped foot in the barn when I was in high school. This summer, I was a 34-year-old veteran. The kids in high school are now closer in age to my kids than to me. When my partner and I were eliminated deep into the 2018 Barnball, I awoke the next morning and did what a small child would do.

I took a post-barn bubble bath. "No bubbles, no glory." - Mr. Bubbles 

While basketball brings it all together, this July phenomenon has endured through families; through community; through connection. The blood and bruising is a testament to Barnball's impossible to fully capture camaraderie; a quarter-century of fellowship on the hard, hard wood. Fathers and sons, brothers, and some incredible female athletes have laid it all out in the barn. Maybe, one day, my daughters will be playing hay bale hoops. For now, stick to Frozen and I'll ice my knees.

This Sunday, the Family Fun Barbecue at Our Mother of Sorrows was a much less rigorous form of fellowship. Spearheaded by my ambitious wife, the sun shined on dozens of families. In my 3+ years of parenting, I've used the wolf pack comparison the most. Once you start traveling as a parent, you are at your best in a pack. You get to talk about interrupted sleep while reasoning with your wolf pups on how attacking someone with a stick is not the same as "playing with sticks". You gain strength by learning about the weakness of other wolves - those parents in the fight of their lives. I told as many people as I could that my 1-year-old peed all over me during the New Testament. I went to the car, changed my shirt, and was back for the homily (wolf howl).

At OMOS, in the barn, and across Johnstown, I have met a lot of good people. My wife and I have made it a point to have our kids say 4 amazing words to anyone we meet - "Have a good day!" I believe the more that we say it - as a family, as a community - the more good days there will be. In our culture, we too often hear the word "news" and think "bad".

Make good news. Turn a barn into a family. Have your family feel like part of the community.

In the words of my daughters, "Have a good night!"

And for those parents staring at the moon, "HOWLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!"