"The Talk" at 4

I picked up my oldest (Cameron, age 4 1/2) yesterday from our friend's house where he & his 3 year old brother stay until I get off work. We all go to the same church & our kids play together...all are pretty much the same age. They have 2 girls & a infant boy.

My friend told me how, while drinking a morning cup of coffee, heard whispering in the next room. There Cameron was found with my friend's youngest girl in an "intimate moment". Keep in mind that Cameron is our more emotional child who will erupt in a flow of tears & wails when he has to hug his brother & apologize for doing something to him.

Cameron was told that it is not acceptable to be doing what he was doing with a little girl. Now before you think this kid was "gittin' jiggy wit' it", there wasn't anything kinky about what occurred... But it was certainly an act that would not be encouraged as it could lead to other things.

As soon as he was confronted with this, the waterworks were turned on full. He burst out in blubbering & shame, covering his eyes & wailing. My friend tried to assure him he was not in trouble nor was he going to be punished. But that it was not a nice thing to be doing at his age.

I chose to approach him about this after supper just before bed time. I diverted his brother to the VCR & made my move while mommy was on the phone. I even began our talk by saying he was not in trouble. But as soon as I mentioned the incident, the blubbering began. He kept insisting he did not want to talk about it because he "didn't like it". However, I really felt if it was not talked about, it could become a repression issue.

What happened that was so emotionally traumatic for this 4 year old? Well, here's the story I heard... He said his little friend (and youngest daughter of our friends) whispered she loved him very much! He admitted that he felt happy when she told this to him. He responded with a hug for his new girlfriend. I wanted to assure him that what occurred was, indeed, a very special thing that happened and that it was very special to have someone tell another that they loved them.

I also wanted to caution him that mommy often tells me that she loves me and that makes me happy, too. A big grin spread across his face. I told him that this sort of thing happens all the time with grown-ups and when grown-ups get married by a pastor. I tried to also make him understand making each other "happy" should be done when he is older.

At least I'm pleased that this small incident didn't include my friend's son. I'll take my blessings where I can!

Life Is A Highway...

Have you ever those thoughts of what you would do in the event that a catastrophic event ever came to you? What do you do when you come within millimeters of living out that thougt?

It would be frightfull enough to encounter a Freightliner tractor-trailor in broad daylight when you are trying to regain control of a 5 passenger, four-door, Saturn SL1 after it had started fish-tailing on a flash-frozen bridge on a curve. Try doing this in the darkness of 5:00am. Watching as the beam of your headlights sweep across two lanes of a 4-lane interstate highway from one guard-rail to another.

You watch as the light illuminates the light shines as you go careening toward one of the guard-rails where you hear the slam of the vehicle against the rail, feel the force of the impact, and watch the fender on the outside of the car buckle outside your windshield. And then you watch it happen again. And this happens as your car is being ping-ponged with the Freightliner. Then, it is flung to the right berm against another guard-rail while a tractor-trailer rubs against your driver's door vibrating your entire seat.

Then the lights go out & you realize you are sitting in a haze of what you think is smoke...fearing the car will explode at any moment...only to realize it is the powder of the two airbags that exploded, saving you from who knows what. You try to get out of your seat belt and realize you can't open your door, so you begin trying to find an escape route from what you fear could be your tomb. Once outside, you try to scramble for the cell phone that you had on your waist before the crash, but you can't find a thing in the pitch darkness. Not even your flashlight.

That was pretty much what happened on Monday morning, Feb. 21 as I went to work. The car was totalled.

I could really go on a rampage, describing how I needed this like I did a hole in my head. I could rail about the fact that just when I thought that things were starting to upswing, the bottom fell out. I could cry and moan about how unfair this whole thing is. That nothing is going my way.

But why?

None of this will undo the experience, nor repair the mangled wreck that will soon be towed away for scrap. None of this will increase my bank account so I can pay off the debt from a loan on a car that is not worth more than it is owed for.

I can rejoice in the fact that in the 29 years I've been driving a car, this is the worst accident I've ever been in. I've traveled thousands of miles across multiple states. And this is the first. I can rejoice that I could get a car that may be better than the one that was totalled. I could rejoice that I have a lot to be thankful for. I have a job after being next to un-employed for well over a year & a half. That I have a home of my own. That I have two totally cute & wonderful little boys. That I have been married to a wonderful wife for almost 8 years.

That I'm alive.

Yeah. That sorta balances things out.

Old Home Week

Amazing what a simple thing like signing a guest book can do. All I did was sign a guestbook entry in the newly redesigned website for my hometown newspaper. Next thing I know, I'm getting email from old friends I haven't heard from in decades.

Which got me to thinking how time and separation really alters reality. Friendships I had with folks I was close to in high school suddenly have an awkwardness to them. It's as if I'm trying to grasp for good leveridge! Why is that? I know that lots of water has run under the bridge...which includes a spouse, kids, career, and the evolving of one's maturity.

I was able to talk to one of these long, lost friends on the phone this weekend. Talk about stammering all over myself. My mind was racing to find some common bond that had a 25 year gap in the middle. It was only after I had the chance to digest our much-belated reunion did I begin to formulate some cognitive feelings about my friend & our friendship.

In high school, well... in school period, I was not what you would call one of the kids voted most popular. If they had the category of "Butt of All Jokes", I would have won with flying colors. That's some of the blessings of growing up for 12 years in the same small town school district. So, I'm not exactly what you'd call very excited about tracing any of my old high school classmates to see where they are now. I have never been to a high school reunion nor do I have the urge to do so. I can count on one hand the number of classmates I would even want to know what has traspired in their lives. In fact, the one classmate I was best friends with early on in my grade school years seems to have faded into oblivion.

But there were a precious few (one being the friend who contacted me this week) who buck the norm. I have always said that I've had so many "fair weather friends" that I could've been a weatherman. I take friendship very seriously. I place a lot of importance to friendship. And I feel a good friendship is worth some kind of investment from both persons. It's quality over quantity...meaning that the intensity of a friendship outweigh the frequency one tries to stay in touch. At least it's that way for me. I realize that life throws up a lot of distractions & interruptions. And sometimes friendships get shelved for a few years.

This is one instance where a true friendship just got placed on a shelf for several years & has now been taken down. It just needs a little dusting & cleaning...and soon will look just as fresh & vibrant as it was 25 years ago. How many shelved friendships do you have? Is it time to bring out the featherduster? Dusting off a shelved friendship will stir things up a bit just as cleaning some dusty relics from the attic can stir up your allergies. But it's worth the awkwardness of reconnection to be able to enjoy the warmth of a good friend you haven't heard from in a long time.

I have had a warmth inside of me these last few days that I haven't had in many years just because I heard from long, lost friend. I have not been able to get this friend off my mind since hearing from him. And despite the huge gap in our relationship, suddenly I feel closer to him now than if we had been next door neighbors for these past 25 years.

I guess genuine, good friends tend to do that.

Outta Control At Four?

My oldest boy, at the tender age of 4 1/2 has already started showing signs of blatant lying...and he genuinely thinks that he is snowing me with his serious attempt at veiling the truth of the situation. There is nothing that will sober up a parent from the thought that they are in total control of their child as trying to compete with a toddler who is convinced that mommy or daddy is buying the schpeel they are feeding.

I makes me feel like I am loosing control of my children and they haven't even reached puberty yet, much less started having feelings for the opposite sex. But as I ponder this, I am also made aware that this is exactly how God feels. As a parent, I am partly responsible for bringing a new life into the world. God is primarily responsible for creating life into this world...namely, mankind. For a parent there is a nice 3 to 4 year honeymoon where everything you say is soaked up into the little developing brain of that child. Then suddently, that little brain gets a mind of its own & thinks it can pull a shiner over mommy & daddy.

We, too, think that after a few years as a new Christian, we know more than our Creator. Wonder if God feels any worse than a parent does? Each time our child lies or somehow breaks a trust that was established between us as their parent, we should be reminded that this is the same situation God finds Himself in when we act out of our own desires or persuasions instead of following His. We wash our kid's mouth out with soap or send them to their room or even execute corporal punishment when we find our child has committed some atrocity. How does God treat us when we break fellowship with Him?

He does discipline us when we err...and how do we react? Do we react the same way our children do when we reproove or correct tthem? My 4-year old cries profusely & shows great contrition and repentance when he is corrected...it' s more than obvious that he desires to have a restored fellowship with me...that he doesn't want to have this feeling of being severed from his connection to his father. Do we crave to be restored in such a way when God corrects or reprooves us?

While I may feel that my son may be out of control at the tender age of 4, I'm sure there are many times God may think I am out of control at the ripe old age of 40.

Charley

I read in my hometown newspaper recently of the passing of a man everyone knew at my home church as "Charley". Charley Rhoads was, at one time, the custodian of the church & he was meticulous in making sure every light was out & everything was in its place before locking the doors.

Charley never seemed to have a bad day.

He never greeted you without a wide smile & a loud voice that stuttered so bad, it would take him a half-hour to ask directions. You could hear Charley for blocks away when he carried on a normal conversation. Charley was mentally handicapped.

Charlie was married to his wife, also mentally handicapped, for years. She would sit with him during church worship services & would smile nervously when Charley began his loud converstaions. It was obvious that they were meant for each other.

I remember one day, as a high school student, sitting in morning worship in church after a stirring sermon. The invitation came, the organ played Just As I Am softly as the congregation held onto the pews in front of them Every head bowed - every eye closed during this reflective moment of contemplation & conviction.

Suddenly, from my left, a shrill, high-pitched wail began that instantly stopped my heart. I had never heard such a thing in all my years of attending a Southern Baptist church. I glanced over to where this intrusive noise was coming from & saw Charley...in the asile...one leg up in the air and hands raised. Smiling and shouting with unbridled jubilation. I was far too scared to realize what was happening, but by the time the worship service was over, hardly a dry eye was found in the sacturary.

The only time I ever would hear Charley speak softly or without his acute stutter was when he was either praying or singing. Then, his enunciation & volume was perfect every time.

I am certain, right now, Heaven is a far more jovial place now that Charlie's made it Home.