Mozart hurts my neck!

This has been a physically painful week for me. Unfortunately, the reason for my physical ailment was about as "anti-machismo" as a man could possibly get. One morning early this week I had decided to go into work later and spend more time around the house with Heather and Annabelle.

I was playing with my daughter and decided that we would play a game that has become a favorite for her. Here's the way our game works:

I begin to play Mozart on my i-pod (which is hooked up to a set of speakers so we can all enjoy it)

I then pretend that I, Anson McMahon, am the great Maestro, Mozart. I do this by wildly leading my imaginary orchestra in a classic number.

To say that I am a bit eccentric while "channeling" Mr. Mozart would be an understatement.

I'm like a frothing-at-the-mouth Musical Savage as my arms zip and flail, sharp and fast through the air, the whole while my head banging as if I'm listening to Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody.

Each time I do this sweet Annabelle is staring wide-eyed with mouth open, giggling, cooing, and she is even learning to move her own arms with the music like a lil' miss Mozart.

There was a mishap this week, however, as we played this game.

In the middle of my composition of "Le nozze di Figaro" my arms came up, my head jolted back, my shoulders tensed, and I guess it was the convergence of a Perfect Storm. The sound could be heard across the room!

"SNAP!!"

I wish I could explain the pain I began to feel in my neck at this moment but there are no words to do it justice. It was as if I had just been interrogated by Jack Bauer! I have no idea what my face must have looked like at this moment but it was probably similar to the look a gnat gets on his face the moment he smashes into a windshield on the freeway. A faint squeak escaped my mouth as the pain stabbed my vertabrae with what felt like a jagged machette. My pupils dialated. My body collapsed into the leather chair behind me. My wife rolled her eyes. My daughter laughed.

After marinating my aching-neck in Icee-Hot and positioning the heating pad in just the right spot I began to think about my battle wound. It may sound a bit overdramatic (OK....a lot overdramatic) to call it a battle wound, but that's what it is to me. I had been wounded in the war of quality time.

As a Student Pastor I am convinced that there is a war going on in the lives of American families today. The enemy is "Other Responsibilities" and it attacks in the camouflage-fatigues of career, hobbies, and "things that just can't wait". The casualties are children, wives and even husbands. The only way to overcome this enemy is to be willing to die on the hill your family is on. I meet kids all the time who have dads who care more about beer and football than they do their own families. I hang out with all kinds of students who have moms who drop everything to spend 5 extra hours at work each week but haven't "had time" to go to one of their kid's softball games in years.

As embarassing as it was to tell people this story, I also sort of told it with a sense of healthy pride. See, I'm proud I didn't pull my neck out at work, or helping someone move, or para-sailing, or playing wiffle-ball with friends. Instead, I was injured in the line of duty while my wife and daughter laughed their heads off. And that's like being awarded the Purple Heart to me.