Selfless Love: A Husband Guest Post

My husbands ability to paint with words always amazes me. When I read this it felt like he had displayed my heart in that moment. Marriage is amazing in that even though we are individuals we are often going through the same things, especially when it comes to spiritual matters. At least that's the case for us.  I had to share, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. 


Selfeless Love


It is so refreshing to hear someone put life's responsibility in God's hands. Some live this way, in a sense of wonder covered by the miraculous care of God's grace. Every day is a new adventure and life is about the journey in the minds of people who live by a vibrant and real faith. I write this because there is a couple of people that I consider close to my heart and they exemplify this mindset with ease.

Today was the first day my In-laws, Carrie and Tom, spent in Colorado. We had a great time running errands together. Carrie spoke words of truth on Godly dependence that rolled off her tongue like the instructions for making a PB and J sandwich. Tom shared simple prayers with tangible answers that solidified foundations of faith shaken by years of a heart deferred. How small I feel; how good it feels! Hearing the perspective on life from people who truly enjoy every day is a real gift for any listener, regardless of perspective. I hope, deep within my heart, that I can hold the same perspective. This appetite for spiritual substance is a conquering force that I have missed for many years.

Years of struggle seasoned with an absence of God's presence that was almost tangible; it was like a numb Hell. Feeling like someone isn't there anymore is a complicated feeling to illustrate. Love can grow into complacency but I speak of my hollow, shallow love. How is a selfish love refined? By an unconditional force stepping aside and waiting for the selfish, self-righteous, prideful fool to die from exhaustion. Can you put loneliness, frustration, apathy, despair, and regret into a blender? What kind of cocktail is the result of this bitter concoction? What kind of person goes bottoms up with a drink akin the last request of a condemned man? I do, did, and died drinking that cup. Those feelings vanished with death convulsions yielding a peace and surrender that could only come by trekking through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

What does a traveler find as he spreads the last branches stained with bitterness and guile at the exit of a Godless death march? He sees the expectant eyes of dear people who have traveled that path before, waiting for him on the other side. He sees the scars from a hard road and under their welcoming smile he can still see the pains of their journey. With arms spread wide those seasoned travelers reach out to the returning prodigal without judgment; just love. The accompanying embrace breaks open flood gates from heaven and something happens.

Jesus appears. Tears flow… Regrets begin to float on those tears to a river of forgiveness. More tears now… Brokenness, failure, fear all floating away. Who knew such small drops could wash away such devastating sins? Those embracing arms belong to someone that loves me with a selfless love, an eternal love. Those eyes were clouded with blood as he bore my guilt and shame. Those eyes spoke "It's okay, I still love you." Love waited me out and won.

Where do I go from here?

To walk with a limp. A reminder that I can’t do it on my own. The cross proves He will handle my needs. Even if it means to Hell and back. Wow, rest in that truth!

Tonight, as I write this, I don't know what tomorrow will bring. There are things written on my calendar; we'll see how that works out. The two people sleeping downstairs help me see Christ more clearly; they ask for daily bread. They live life and enjoy the journey. I want that too.

I want life to be an adventure without regret. Over the past months I have learned things that have attached themselves to my soul forever. I have looked failure in the face and seen purpose waiting in the backdrop.  I'm done begging for a cache of bread. Instead, I will wait for He who loves me and start trusting Him again for the first time. He said he would take care of us. And if I fail believing that, He also says:

"It's okay, I still love you."

The Hilltop Lodge at The Denver Home Show

The Hilltop Lodge made it's debut at the Denver Home Show this weekend! We had a great turn-out and a wonderful response from the crowd! Everyone wanted to see what all the commotion was about surrounding this adorable portable abode. There was often a line that formed with those waiting to step inside the little house and experience the custom built home away from home!

Thank you to all who helped make this possible, we couldn't have done it without you! 

And here is a little word from the man himself. This is a little blurb Erik wrote for the news, I loved it and wanted to share. 

My family and I moved to Colorado chasing dreams of prosperity and stability only to find the economy crash on them. We were going to be that family of six enjoying the weekends and working towards a secure retirement but fate had other plans.

After losing my job as an elevator constructor we decided to go back to our roots. Live simply and do what we love. I have built and designed portable structures since 1998 for fun, first learning basic church retreat cabins and then branching out by embracing other applications like portable coffee houses and small living spaces. Over the years, I have refined the amenities and sought to embrace all of the needs a person has for living in a scaled down portable, energy-efficient package. Some of the greatest days of my life have been spent building these simple cabins for people who value the same family togetherness while escaping the monotony of their everyday life. Since making the decision to return to our first love, incredible members of our community have reached out with open arms to help us succeed. In many ways, this story is about how we can all help each other live out our dreams.

Mixing skill, experience, and passion for what I call neo-conservationism, fuels my design concepts. My core beliefs are centered around using resources to their fullest. Having four kids and living in Colorado can give a person an intense passion for preserving the incredible beauty that we all share. By not erecting permanent structures throughout Colorado and the rest of the US, we can use only the space we need for the time we need it. It’s becoming so important these days to leave less of an imprint for our future generations. This way we can enjoy what beauty our nation has to offer without depleting it long term.

By no means am I alone in this mindset. People are seeking to simplify their living experience in droves. Awareness is being awakened at a grassroots level and the idea of living simply is gaining traction among the masses. From people concerned about their carbon footprint to ex-homeowners seeking a low-cost housing alternative, many are taking the leap and living in smaller, simpler structures.

The tangible and intangible benefits are great. Portability saves the end-user large amounts of money in building permits and fees. The size of these tiny houses brings operating costs down to pennies. Repair and maintenance are miniscule compared to even the smallest traditional home. The user can also feel

great about the smaller imprint they leave for future generations. The Hilltop Lodge uses 1/10^th of the electricity a typical home uses and is capable of being completely powered by a small 2000 watt inverter generator while remaining lit and warmed on the coldest of days. This is all achieved through our innovative construction and portability techniques.

In response to the poor economy, my family has decided to take a different route than most. We want to leave a positive impact for our children's children through innovation and social change in regards to how we utilize our resources.

Looking back on the effect of the economy with respect of our young family, I find myself being more thankful than embittered. I was losing touch with my family while working my "regular" job. Since then I have made lasting friendships worth more to me than any security a "regular" job could bring. I also get the satisfaction of doing something great for the planet and our future generations. It turns out, shaking things up brought me back to what is truly important; doing what I love for whom I love. To me, that has become the American Dream.

-- 

AspenContineo

Erik Wilt

720.523.3203

 WWW.AspenContineo.com

Week Three of Project 52: Inspiration

Week three of "Project 52," take a picture a week for one year! Each week there is a theme posted that you can use or you can just take a picture that represents your week and explain why. It's a way to grow, document the year, and collaborate with a wonderful group of photographers! If you would like to join us you can check out the information here. Sarah, at My Four Hens Photography, is heading it up. Here is the link to the flickr group if you would like to jump in on the fun! 

Here is the link to my flickr project! 

inspiration

week 3

I think this week was so hard for me because I am inspired by so many things, narrowing it down became difficult and trying to capture that in one frame was also challenging.

When I think of inspiration a phrase comes to mind, “success through adversity.”

There are so many things in this life that inspire us to keep going and make it through the challenges, to succeed even though times are tough. For me inspiration comes through being challenged, the big and the small trials. Inspiration is the breath that gives us strength to overcome.

A form of inspiration for me is music; it defines my day, my memories, and my seasons in life.

We are going through a challenging time right now in our family but this image embodies inspiration to me. My family, all together, full of joy, dancing around the living room while daddy plays music! 

The Cocktail

A blog post from my better half in honor of Father's Day!

My kids are great sleepers. We don’t have to deal with the fear of smothering one of them in our bed because they just don’t attempt to climb in with us. If there is a bad dream they’ll just sleep on the couch upstairs. Sometimes we won’t even know they’re on the couch until we stumble out of bed to make coffee in the morning. There is a balance to everything and in this case, good sleepers turn into early risers!

We’ve tried to keep the kids in their beds until seven. That used to be the rule but as they have grown older we started to realize our sleep-math was a little outdated. Seven to seven is twelve hours of sleep; roughly equivalent to what I have slept after working 30+ hours straight. The amount of time we expected our children to sleep started to resemble new age torture techniques, not healthy rest. So we stopped demanding so much and we’re still not sure if that was the right move.

I’ve woke up to the sound of breaking dishes, screams of joy and pain, the scary sound of water splashing and the slam of the front door (where could the kids have to go at 6 a.m. on a Saturday). The way we wake up to the kids is always the same but a little bit different (figure that one out!) every morning. It’s like the surprise I feel when I pick up the mail; maybe some cool stuff but always nullified by the bills. Needless to say, waking up at the Wilt home is never dull.

On Saturday I woke up to a familiar sound coming from the pantry. Usually I come out to find Matthew elbows deep in a box of cereal with a considerable amount of it on the floor. This time I was relieved to find my oldest opening a can of pineapple for the rest of the brood. What a proud dad I was; my oldest stepping up to take care of her siblings so mom and dad could sleep in! I gave her a thumbs-up and stumbled back to bed.

Something went terribly wrong as I slept for the next fifteen minutes. When I came out of the room I saw the kitchen and could feel my blood pumping hot up my neck. How could anyone do what these kids did in fifteen minutes time? I didn’t know we had so many dishes until the children removed nearly all of them from the cabinets. I could imagine each kid putting their breakfast on a plate only to decide that the plate they chose was unacceptable. The only remedy is to try a new clean one! The same story with the cups they use for drinking. If the cup didn’t hold the right amount or have the correct artwork on the side, just grab another one!

Like a pot coming to a boil, I slowly began to flip out. I was raising my voice and slamming the plastic cups in the sink. Toys were flying into bins with the force of a trash compactor. A part of me was a little impressed that the kids could accomplish so much in a short time but they were moving in the wrong direction. Then I saw the margarita glass.

We keep a few margarita glasses in the top of our dish cabinets. We put them at the top for a reason. There are actually four little reasons with climbing curiosities. We put the glasses so high that Linsey can’t even reach them. So you can imagine my concern when I saw one of these on our counter. I knew the culprit immediately. I could see the fear in Abigail’s eyes when I glared at her. She was loudly ordered to her room to await further punishment. Out of compassion for the little ones my wife comes out of our room and tries to calm me down. As the cloud of anger dissipates I look closer at the margarita glass.

It turns out that the creative bug bit Abby that morning. There was some minced pineapple in the bottom of the glass looking a little like some of that lint you find in the bottom corner of your jeans. The glass was filled with tap water and you could tell it had been sitting out for a while by the little air bubbles on the inner surface of the glass (maybe I slept more than fifteen minutes). On the rim of the glass was a sliced, canned peach pressed gently to add that appeal every cocktail needs. To top it all off, she added a new twist to a cocktail I had never thought of, a leaf of cilantro atop the peach. Fantastico! I was contemplating Abby’s future as a bartender/drink inventor when I saw the note.

The drink was a special treat for her sleepy parents to enjoy along with their coffee. What a gesture! As I called her up to explain she showed me the can with the picture of what she was trying to create. She got as close as any seven-year-old could get with the ingredients on hand. I couldn’t believe the heart of this little kid! This drink was better than any aftershave an offspring could wrap up for Father’s Day. She did admit it had a horrible smell but I still loved everything about it. I have no shame admitting that I didn’t take one sip of the concoction (it could’ve made me sick!) but this event will be close to my heart forever.

That is what it means to be a father sometimes. You have to be the enforcer and give the kids a healthy example of authority so when they’re in the real world they’ll understand how it all works. But there is also the side of compassion and love that every kid needs to see in Dad. I was fortunate to have both in my dad and I just hope my kids can say the same.

I know every dad has stories like this and we should take time on Father’s Day to remember them. Cheers, to a happy Father’s Day! Remember, you don’t have to drink it!

Viva la Working-Class! Husband Guest Post

It was shortly after Christmas that we found ourselves at Target eyeing the wall of Wii games. As foreboding as that was we tried to find a suitable game for the kids. This was a challenge given the fact that they're all under 7. Linsey and I scanned the wall when I fixed my gaze on pure gold...... the old Mario games. These classics were bundled together in one glorious package so this was a no-brainer. We got the game and since that day it's been safely stowed away.

Last night the game was rediscovered by the youngest. He was about ready to turn it into his newest frisbee-sister-maiming weapon when we rescued it. At that moment playing that game became the next day's top priority.

The conditions were perfect the next morning. After an awesome late-night with friends the kids actually woke up late. We whipped up a nice breakfast and pulled out the plastic steering wheels. It's important to warm up with a rousing round of Mario Kart. Soon thereafter, the classics were unveiled for the first time. We started with the first Mario (released 1985). We never got any further that that because Linsey and I were totally engulfed in a nostalgic wave that muted the high-pitched pleading of the four kids we purchased the game for.

Time passed and controllers were exchanged. We watched as our kids struggled through the same pitfalls that navigated about 20 years ago. Abby tried over and over to jump by the venus fly-eating weed that poked it's head out of the big pipe. Ella struggled with the turtles, when you kick them it can be hard to jump over them as they rocket towards you after they bounce off a pipe. Jon is still trying to get his Mario to jump when he wants. It dawned on me that this experience is a lost experience for kids these days. We have four-player simultaneous action games. We don't have to wait for the new release from our favorite band to hit the CD rack at our town music store, we just go to iTunes. Kids don't buy old American cars and turn them into hot rods, they just go and get a cheap Hyundai that gets more horsepower without any modifying.

As the snow quietly fell outside and we let the day slip away to the sound of the Mario theme, I was glad. My kids will get the chance to play archaic video games about mushroom-eating plumbers on a quest to save the princess. My kids will bust their knuckles on a classic American car just to know the value of hard-work. My kids will hear me cheer for them as they win or lose at their favorite sport. My kids will live the American dream until I breathe my last breath.

Erik

Linsey Asked If I Would Post

Linsey has been a little stressed with her extensive self-inflicted work load.  Her to do list is a mile long.   She has been asking me for awhile, if I would write a guest post for her, prepping me they way she knows how.  After I surprised her with a finished post for today,  she then stated, "it would be really great if you could write a post every few months or so." She also knows how to step it up a notch while she has my attention. It's really hard not to smile and agree with her, when she is squealing so loud with delight over my efforts, that we all feel the need to cover our ears. 


For anyone that has read this blog for any amount of time, we all know that Linsey is a special person. But she would insist on this blog not being a platform for her; more like a platform for honesty about our life. I’ve heard countless times that she is so “transparent” and I love that. I know that ‘yall mean see-through but I see it in another way. TransParent- a parent that is willing to reach out to other parents over the invisible boundaries that most parents put up because they feel like failures. 


This is the same honest, quirky woman I married eleven years ago and I’m glad that others can benefit from these stories now. As things happen to us, I sometimes struggle with the significance but understanding always follows. People need to see weirdos like us to feel normal and understand that were not all alone. In a day where marriages fail and families fall apart, I attribute our honesty as one of the strongest bonds that we have. We’re honest when we aren’t happy (and loud about it). I wrestle with the boys too much and someone usually (always) gets hurt. Best of all, we fight…… but we can’t leave it unresolved. That would be too dishonest. The kids fight but they always end up playing together when it’s over. To all that read this, take heart. You might feel like you suck as a human being; it’s okay. We’re all weird, that’s what makes us people.


Erik