A Few Anecdotes

Time for a few anecdotes, I suppose.

My eldest son went to school the other day...a real-live gubmint school. He went with his mom and brother to a local school where a friend of ours is a teacher for Make A Candy House Day. Adults usually refer to these creations as Gingerbread Houses, but children know they're really called Candy Houses.

So later that day, while seated around the lunch table, Jonathon pulled something out of his pocket and said, "See what I brought to school today." It was his pocketknife. Oops. He quickly clarified that he didn't tell anyone about it, which we quickly confirmed as the right thing to do. Actually, we hastily said not to bring the blooming thing to school tomorrow, lest he get hisself arrested. I read recently about a boy who pulled a plastic knife out of his pocket during lunch to cut his food, and he was immediately suspended without warning (and, apparently, without any thought, either). Yikes.

Code Red Alert Warning Important Message: If you are my automobile insurance agent (you know who you are), please skip to the next paragraph. Speaking of the eldest son's adventures, he helped me pull the van out of the snowbank yesterday. How the van got in (and couldn't get out of) the snowbank is definitely a Slap Your Palm to Your Forehead Anecdote for another time, but I operated the tractor and Jonathon sat in the van by himself and manned the steering wheel and brake pedal. I figure that if my dad could drive the family's tractor when he was 6, then my six-year old can drive the family's 12-passenger van, right? Yikes, again.

Jonathon has been full of anecdotes recently. The other morning, I was telling him that we were going to Grandpa's house and that uncle Derek would be there. He thought for a minute and said, "That means if Daddy is there, and uncle Derek is there, and Grandpa is there, there will be three Daddies." I explained that uncle Derek doesn't have any children. So he thought for another minute. "So, does that mean he is a Mama?" Uh, no, not quite. This reminded me of that old gag-letter to "My Dear French Male Canadian Son Claude," but I couldn't find it online, so that's just too bad for you.

Last winter, James took a liking to wearing long-sleeve, button-down, flannel shirts and jeans. He wore them every day. In fact, he liked them so much, he wouldn't stop wearing them even when the weather turned warmer. We got to June, and I would say to him, "James, its 90 degrees outside, and very humid." "But I want to wear a long-sleeve shirt with buttons." Okay, son.

About the end of July, he caught on and started wearing shorts and short-sleeves. But now we can't get him to switch back to winter gear. I tell him, "Its the Polar Express, ol' boy; its 9 degrees outside and the wind-chill factor is well below zero." "But I want to wear shorts." Okay, son.

Boys. Gotta love 'em.

The Sabbath

On this National Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day, we remember the men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice in service to their country, that infamous Sunday morning in 1941. A surprise attack from hostile forces at Pearl Harbor cut short the dreams of just over 2,400 soldiers, but galvanized the wills of millions of ordinary Americans to defend liberty and freedom across the globe. Recently, I was stirred while reading a book about ‘The Greatest Generation.’ This book, compiling numerous vignettes of life in those days, tells the stories of several relatively unknown Americans who, upon being faced with the unprecedented challenges associated with world war, rose to meet them in inspiring ways.

In words written over two decades ago, President Reagan reminded the American people that “their devotion must never be forgotten.” From Washington, D.C. to Hawaii, from Alaska to Texas, and in every other state of the union, one will find memorials that have been erected to honor the memory and devotion of the Greatest Generation. Today’s generation would do well to remember their ancestor’s legacy when considering the implications of its own date-driven event.

In words written over four millennia ago, the God of Heaven reminded His people that “the Sabbath must never be forgotten.” From Jerusalem to Atlanta, from Sweden to Thailand, and all across the world, one will find faithful servants of heaven dimming their lights and popping their corn to honor that day their Creator has set apart as ‘holy’.

The Sabbath is also a memorial, established by God to bring honor to His sanctifying power. He told His people in Exodus 31:13 that the Sabbath was ‘a sign between Me and you…that you may know that I am Jehovah who sanctifies you.’ Insofar as God has sanctified a day, I take courage in His ability to sanctify other things, including, but not limited to, myself. If God can sanctify an intangible concept, such as the passage of time, than surely He can sanctify a physical being created in His own image.

But the Sabbath is also a forward looking memorial, if you will, that provides us with a foretaste of the Ultimate Sabbath – that millennial time when the process of sanctification is complete and His people experience fully what it means to ‘ride on the heights of the earth’ and be fed ‘with the heritage of Jacob’.

After a week of having risen up, by God’s grace, to meet diverse challenges, may this Sabbath be refreshing reminder of God’s sanctifying power and a glorious glimpse of days to come.