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January is the birthday month of my mother, Marie. Mama was as hands on a mother as possible. I could not have asked for a better mom. She’s beautiful, and loving, and caring, and immensely thoughtful, she’s fun, and creative, and classy, and protective, though a little too protective when it came to my dates, but that’s how moms are I guess – no one’s good enough for her baby.

The Brothers Bonifacio would not be around without her. I mean, she and my dad (who always talks about how lucky he is to have a wife that is always praying for him) literally made us. But more than that she raised us, and though I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for her, she has very graciously released us to the discoveries and dangers, liabilities and lessons, and the tumbles and triumphs of life.

Here are some paintings from my mom’s latest series. It’s more proof that from beautiful hands will come beautiful work, because they’re guided by a beautiful soul.

Every family has its quirks, idiosyncrasies that make our interaction with one another and with others more special and unforgettable. The trick is to celebrate (or to honor) the characteristics that make each one unique instead of resenting the differences. Writing this series has been a wonderful experience for me, not only because of the very positive feedback, but more because I’ve been able to look back at my growing up years with a new, clearer, better perspective, one that helped me appreciate many of the things I took for granted or even felt embarrassed by when I was young. But I’ve learned that whether you’re young looking forward or older in years looking back, we benefit from a heavenly perspective that we receive when look up.

Make It Big
I was running, no, rushing to the bathroom to go on one of my infamous bombing runs, when my dad urgently stopped me,

Pop: David! Where’re you going?
Me: I’m going to poop.
Pop: Alright.

I was turning to run since nature’s call was strong when he called again.

Pop: David!
Me: What?!!
Pop (looking me straight in the eye): Make it big.

And I did. (Much to the frustration of Josh who shared a bathroom with me.)

I still do.

My dad was like that, always thinking big, attempting big, and expecting big. Even my poop had to be big. But that stuck to me. Thinking big I mean, not the poop. That would have been gross.

My Big Imagination
When I was in grade school / lower school I found a most innovative solution to a perennial pain in the butt: homework. I couldn’t get why anyone thought it was a good idea to to wake up at 6am, be at school by 7am, stay until 3 or 4pm, sit in traffic for another hour-long ride home, only to sit down at your desk to do more school work. Between sleep and school alone that’s already about 20 hours. Only 4 hours for play! I can honestly say I don’t remember half the stuff my teachers said. So like I said, I found a solution to what I used to call a “stupid schedule” and it was incredibly easy. I simply decided to ignore my homework entirely and live an imagined homework-less life.

And it worked.

At least for a while.

I would come home, my parents would ask me if I had homework, and I would say, “Nope. None.” They would ask again, “No homework?” “Nope.” “No homework again?” “None.” It didn’t dawn on me that I was lying. I told them there was no homework because there was no homework. In my mind, I had resolved that I would decide whether I had homework or not, not my teachers, and I had chosen not not have any homework – EVER. My teacher would give me my homework, I would say, “No thanks.” and the problem of homework was solved.

Until the parent-teacher conference or the dreaded PTC when the teacher told my parents that I had not done any homework for the whole quarter. My parents confronted me and said…

Pop and Mom: David, you told us you didn’t have any homework.
Me: I didn’t.
Pop and Mom: David. Your teacher said you didn’t do any of your homework.
Me: Because I didn’t have any.
Pop and Mom: David. Your teacher said you had homework.
Me: But I decided I don’t have any. So I don’t.
Pop and Mom: David! You can’t decide that! You have to follow your teacher!
Me: Why???
Pop and Mom: Because she’s your teacher! You have to do your homework when she gives it to you! That’s disobeying, David. And that’s also lying.
Me: But she’s so boring and grumpy because she’s always pregnant!
Pop and Mom: David!!!

I got the rod that afternoon, which I got a few times daily anyway, and my ass was a shade of bright red despite my dark complexion. Now that I’m older I’ve realized that more than just lying to my parents, I was lying to myself, thinking that I could imagine my problems away, and decide to ignore the real world. Instead my parents got me tutors and began an incredibly motivating incentive scheme for our education. I didn’t know it yet but my parents were teaching me an integral lesson every person must learn: you have to LIVE your life not escape it. You have to embrace how you were created and you must enjoy your experiences, but you must also carry your responsibilities and face your issues, knowing that God rewards faithfulness.

Bigger Love
There is a very real feeling of vulnerability when one moves away from his parents. My parents had developed, despite the resource limitations, a home where love was abundant, responsibility was expected, and purpose promoted. It had a safe, welcoming feeling that had more to do with the light my parents radiated then a yellow bulb’s glow. It wasn’t perfect, not even close. There were fights (lots of them involving me), there were heated debates (which Joe always won), there were limbs broken, and hearts as well (ahem ahem), interesting pharmaceutical products, academic concerns, crashed cars, sheriffs forclosing, and even my mom finding a naked guy on my email (back when my mom was new to the term “spam”) among many other things. But no matter how big the problems were my reactionary parents somehow gathered themselves together and presented a bigger love, not some imaginary “everything is fine” attitude (like my homework), but the love of Christ that forgives, and joyfully sacrifices, a love that covers a multitude of sin.

That’s an environment I’d like to recreate for my own family someday.

Someday I will have little curly-haired Davids running around and, if they’re anything like their father, their energy and their curiosity will land them in many “interesting” places and circumstances. But there will be a bigger love for them, the same bigger-than-us love now available to you and me.

A Most Memorable Sermon
The most memorable chapel message I ever heard was one on Christmas. I don’t remember much about the actual preaching but I can’t forget when the pastor, while bashing Santa Claus, said, “Christmas is not about a big fat man with a white bird!”

I learned a lesson that day, among the unstoppable laughter, teachers trying to keep students quiet, and my friend Zach jokingly asking me, “How does he know?? How does he know???” – Never EVER mispronounce the word BEARD as BIRD.

In the spirit of Christmas, here are some Christmas blogs written by my family.

1. I Miss My Boys, Lord by Joey Bonifacio (this is on Facebook)
My dad’s thoughts on his boys growing up.

2. Mom’s Christmas Thoughts 1: Attention: Santa Clause

3. Mom’s Christmas Thoughts 2: No Lysol at the Stable

4. Joe’s Married Christmas

5. My Brothers Bonifacio 2010 Christmas Post: The Essentials

Merry Christmas everyone!

“But even as we downscaled what Christmas was to me, God was setting up a backdrop for one the greatest lessons I would ever learn. He had to remove the trappings, the traps we fall into, that distract us from Him.”
- The Light and the Life

Sitting on my couch in a bare living room, I can’t help but notice the contrast between the ornamented Christmas of my childhood and the financially necessitated minimalism of my holidays today. There’s no tree, not the big fake one with Joe’s POJ (piece of junk) hanging nor the fresh evergreen that smells of fresh pine. There are no Christmas books stacked on tables and lining walls. The little ceramic houses of my dad’s Christmas village are absent. And our framed 1000 piece puzzle of Biloski isn’t on the wall above my cherished piano. There’s a lot that’s not here.

All I have in my Christmas arsenal is a wreath and 5 candles.

Sometimes, when I talk this way, people think it’s because I’m too lazy to decorate or too frugal, that I’m just pretending to lack funds. But nothing can be further from the truth. Between mortgage payments, utilities, food, transportation, communications, the startup projects, and the fix-up companies, there’s really not a lot of money to spend.

And it’s with this plain frill-less holiday stage that I write this.

The Snoop
I was a snoop growing up. I knew where everything was. (Unlike today, when I can’t seem to find anything.) I knew what my gifts were, where they were hidden, who was giving what. Christmas was one giant treasure hunt for me. The “ber” months would hit and I would take my toy rifle, my slingshot, and a flashlight. Hunting season had arrived. If I wasn’t pleased with my discoveries I’d find a way to let these ignorant gift givers know exactly what I wanted and that I wouldn’t be happy with anything else. If the day’s rummaging yielded pleasing results, I could rollout my sleeping bag beside our Christmas tree in the living room and rest content with my weapons, safely under a sentry of armed GI Joes strategically placed to shoot would-be predators.

1993 was the year a black hooded Cobra Commander came out. I wanted Cobra Commander and I subtly let Josh know this.

A few days before Christmas a few gifts that looked like wrapped GI Joes were placed under the tree. When the coast was clear I walked over to the tree, took the gift that had my name on it, and carefully unwrapped it.

It was love at first sight.

“Cobra Commander!!!” I mouthed an inaudible shout.

I quickly got a hold of myself, wrapped everything, and returned the gift like it had never been moved. Christmas was going to be good.

I can’t begin to describe how hard it was to wait for Christmas Eve when we would be opening presents and I would be united with my wrapped love. I guess it would be similar to when Joe was waiting for his honeymoon but a little more intense.

When Christmas did arrive, and was allowed to open my gifts, I grabbed Cobra Commander and frantically freed him…

… only to find that I wasn’t holding Cobra Commander. In my hands was an orange Night Creeper Leader.

“Cobra Commander! I got Cobra Commander!!!”, an excited Joseph started jumping around and shouting.

I wasn’t allowed to say bad words (our mouths got soaped when we did) but if I were I would probably have said “WTF?”

“What did you get?” Joseph asked me.

“Night Creeper Leader…” I said disappointedly.

“He’s cool too.” Positive Joe responded.

“As cool as a butt.” I thought to myself.

I don’t know what happened, but some reason Josh switched the cards on the presents. He didn’t know anything on GI Joes. A Joe was a Joe to him. He would never have understood that Night Creeper Leader is no way near as cool as Cobra Commander.

Of course I couldn’t complain then. I didn’t anyone finding out I had been snooping around. It was only after years of therapy did I finally tell this story.

The Essentials
Something is essential to us when it is something we cannot do without. Many times we miss out on these important things because we’re distracted. The word distraction means “the pulling away of the mind”. Sometimes it’s our fears that pull us away from the essential things, sometimes it’s our expectations, sometimes it’s our responsibilities, and even sometimes it’s our hurt and disappointments. There’s so many things that is “pulling our mind away” from the essentials.

Going back to my Cobra Commander story, I remember the disappointment I felt holding his “GI JOKE”. It didn’t matter that we had just had a feast. It didn’t matter that I had a family to celebrate with. It didn’t matter that it was Jesus’ birthday.

All that mattered was that I didn’t get Cobra Commander, and worse, someone else did.

Sometimes, when I don’t get what I want or think I deserve I still react the same way. “Why God? Why is life so unfair? I thought you said I’d be blessed? Why can they enjoy that and I can’t?” And like that 9-yr. old boy, I forget that I’m free, that I have hope, that I’m loved, and I disregard every other blessing Christmas represents because I didn’t get this year’s version of Cobra Commander.

So I go back and remind myself that I already have the best thing, and I remind myself of the essentials, the things that a true Christmas cannot be without such as Jesus, love, relationships, giving, hope…

… and of course, a reminder of that lesson from Cobra Commander.