I’ve written already about some tools to help you tell your story (or stories).

I thought I’d share a bit about how I’m doing with my own story-telling . . . and what I’m doing, specifically, to make my story-telling simply happen.

(It’s not easy! You definitely have to decide you’re going to take the bull by the horns and make him move in the direction you want him to.)

But I think it’s worthwhile. Read the rest of this entry »

A homeschooling acquaintance of mine who goes by the online moniker “Prairie Chick” posted a story that inspired me about how to pass on and reinforce family values even among elementary school-age children (let alone older children and adults).

I saw her story on the Sonlight forums. When I asked her permission to share it here, she noted that she had also posted it on one of her blogs, The Prairie Schoolhouse. Read the rest of this entry »

In my last post, I talked about giving your children the vast majority of their inheritance “early”–while they’re still in their 20s and early 30s, say–rather than later.

A few weeks ago, I was talking with a friend who has many years’ experience counseling and coaching wealthy individuals . . . as a wealthy person himself and a friend, not as a professional counselor. He made an interesting observation about a reason why you want to predefine for your heirs–and make sure they know–how much you intend to leave them: You want to remove every potential reason they may have (every potential conflict-of-interest) that may lead them to think that, by reducing cost of the care you receive toward the end of your life, they will benefit.

“I have seen it,” he said, “where the children say, ‘Y’know, if we put Mom in the _____ Village, we will be spending [i.e., they will be digging into Mom's nest-egg!] to the tune of an extra $50,000 a year compared to _____ Nursing Home. Why should we waste our money?’ “

Of course, they are not “wasting” money if the quality of service is significantly different (which it was in this particular case). And they weren’t about to “waste” or “spend” their money. It was Mom’s money they were talking about. But they were already anticipating it as their own. And so they withheld from their mother what should have been rightfully hers . . . if only she and her husband had done advanced planning that predefined for the children exactly what they could expect and demonstrated that there was no reason for the kids to modify their care plans in hopes of gaining advantages for themselves.

Is your house big enough? Do you need more room? Will your family be happier in a bigger home?

I think my perspective on this issue was shaped a bit last week by a converation I had with a few members of an American family that has lived and worked most of the time over the last nine years in the foothills of the Himalayas.

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As I have intimated in some recent posts in my personal blog, my wife and I spent last week in Thailand with field staff of one of the international charities we help fund.

While there, I volunteered to work on the security detail. As I sat in front of the bookstore they had set up checking people’s ID tags, I stopped a couple of young girls because I couldn’t see their wristbands.

One of them looked at me with a bit more than passing interest: “Are you Mr. Holzmann?”

“Yes.”

She lit up. “We use Sonlight!”

I won’t bore you with the details of that portion of our conversation.

It turns out, they are two children in a family of five kids. They live somewhere in the foothills of the Himalayas and move twice a year to live with a certain nomadic water buffalo-herding tribe that has a summer home and a winter home.

Interesting people!

About 10 or 15 minutes after we began talking, their dad came up. And the subject matter of our discussion broadened a bit. I asked him more about their living circumstances and how one lives with nomads. –I had never met anyone from the West who had adopted and/or adapted to such a lifestyle.

For some reason I can’t remember now, at one point, the dad made a comment that has stuck with me: “When we go back to the States,” he said, “I have found that families with five or more kids always seem to have more room to invite us in than do families with only one or two children. Even families with huge houses and just one child: they never seem to have room to invite us to stay with them. But families with five kids–even though their houses are much smaller: they always have room.

“We may sleep on the floor (which is fine with us). But they always have room. The more kids they have, the more room they seem to have.”

My thought: The physical space is rarely the issue. More often, we are limited by the size of our heart.

Indeed, as I was thinking about what my new friend had to say, I remembered our family’s time in southern California 20 years ago.

We lived in an 800-square-foot hovel. I think that’s the right word. It had holes in the outside walls so big you could see daylight through them when it was light outside and, in the winter, the wind would blow the kitchen cupboards open. For the kids to go to the bathroom, they had to walk through every room in the house–from their room, through Sarita’s and my bedroom, through the living room area, through the kitchen, through the back hallway (where the water heater was) and into the bathroom.

All four children–two girls and two boys–shared a single bedroom

And y’know what? No one complained!

In fact, though we owned four beds (two bunkbeds), until just a few months before we moved (when our eldest daughter was about 11 and a half), all four children preferred to sleep in one bed. We used to talk about how they were like sausages in a container. They preferred to share the bed. There was something reassuring about that closeness, I think.

And our kids got along. They were close. Despite dramatic personality differences. Despite the age range. Despite the fact that they spent most of the time together because we were homeschooling as well.

The physical closeness, I think, actually contributed to our children interacting with each other. It helped enlarge their hearts to make room for others.

FWIW. I thought I’d share my thoughts.

And my prayer: May I have a heart big enough for whatever God calls me to . . . unhindered by my physical surroundings!

Isaiah 38 and 39 in the Bible describes a period in the life of one of the kings of Israel when he had an infection that placed him on death’s doorstep. Hezekiah prayed, “Oh, YHWH¹, remember how I have walked before you in faithfulness and with a whole heart, and have done what is good in your sight.”

Then the word of [YHWH] came to Isaiah: “Go and say to Hezekiah, Thus says [YHWH], the God of David your father: I have heard your prayer; I have seen your tears. Behold, I will add fifteen years to your life.” (Isaiah 38:4-5 ESV)

Cool! Hezekiah was thrilled.

Next thing we read (chapter 39): Merodach-baladan the son of Baladan, king of Babylon, sent envoys with letters and a present to Hezekiah.

And Hezekiah welcomed them gladly. And he showed them his treasure house, the silver, the gold, the spices, the precious oil, his whole armory, all that was found in his storehouses. There was nothing in his house or in all his realm that Hezekiah did not show them. . . .

Then Isaiah said to Hezekiah, “Hear the word of [YHWH] of hosts: “Behold, the days are coming, when all that is in your house, and that which your fathers have stored up till this day, shall be carried to Babylon. Nothing shall be left, says [YHWH]. “And some of your own sons, who will come from you, whom you will father, shall be taken away, and they shall be eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon.” Then said Hezekiah to Isaiah, “The word of [YHWH] that you have spoken is good.” For he thought, “There will be peace and security in my days.” (Isaiah 39:2, 5-8 ESV)

And my eye stuck on that last statement: “The word of YHWH is good . . . for there will be peace and security in my days.”

Hezekiah didn’t care about those who would follow. It was all about him: “I will enjoy peace and security.”

May God protect me from holding such an attitude . . . whether in word or (more likely) in deed [preoccupation with my personal interests over my family's? unfaithfulness to my wife? refusal to eat wisely (in moderation; the right foods . . . )? unwillingness to exercise regularly and thus maintain my health and vigor? . . . ].

What might I do that would show a preoccupation with my own interests to the detriment of the interests of those who are to come after me?

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¹ YHWH, also known as “the Tetragrammaton,” is the personal name of the God of the Bible. In modern English translations, it is usually rendered in small capital letters as “the LORD” . . . following Jewish tradition which reads the word as “Adonai” (“Lord”).

I have made it a habit, for many years, to place a box around “the LORD” wherever it appears in my Bible–and then to read the word as Yahweh or Jehovah–in order to cause me to pay attention to when one of the prophets–or God Himself–is speaking of God using His name . . . as opposed to when they are speaking of God in terms of His role or authority as Lord/lord.

I find the discipline helpful and enlightening. Return to text.

Find it difficult to be involved with your family? The first step to achieve balance in this area may be to value the goal. Read the rest of this entry »

How can you maximize the time your family spends together and maximize the transfer of values from one generation to another?

I got thinking about this when my sister mentioned that her family was bringing her in-laws (both in their 90s, and not necessarily the easiest people to get along with!) into their home for several weeks. How could that time be made as pleasant and profitable as possible?

One of the things we do in our family–even now, after the kids are grown and three of the four are married, and we have five grandkids: We read out loud together. We don’t watch TV. Every once in a while we will watch a movie. But for maximum mutual engagement, besides just plain talking with one another, we will read a book together out loud.

Sarita always suggests three or four books we might read when we’re headed off for vacation. The rest of us, then, together, make the final selection.

[I should note: Sarita has an uncanny ability to choose "the best of the best" when it comes to books. But, then, I guess, she ought to! After all, she reads over a dozen books a week, and she has been doing that for some 40 years or more.]

The books themselves, of course, offer tremendous value on their own. But they also offer another value: they inspire us to interact. We always seem to want to talk about what we’re reading.

Let me illustrate. Read the rest of this entry »