Thanks for a day of plenty.
Went for a spot of shopping to restock my cupboards this morning – should have done it yesterday when I was shopping for spotty people, but I didn’t think of it then.
Had a phone call from an irate Joel.
“Did you say anything to my son about Jesus?”
“Did I not promise you that I would not say any thing to either of your children about God unless you were present?”
“Stop ducking the question. I was asking about Jesus.”
“Then you were asking about God. And no, I did not. Joel, I cannot take responsibility for every thought your children have that has any religious ideas attached to it. Even if I do not talk to them about God, someone will. I am not the only person on this earth that believes that he is real or that he has an interest in our lives.”
“Okay. Okay. You’ve made your point. But somebody has been telling him about some gospel and saying that Jesus has saved him for eternal life and that he can talk to God any time he wants to. And now he wants the rest of us to believe the same rot.”
Stand firm little man. Even if your Daddy tells you to stay away from God.
“You have no idea how much I’d like to see the same thing, but I will tell you again. Hamish speaks from his own sources – not from me. Whether you agree with him or not Joel, he’s a brave boy, especially if you reacted anything like the way you usually do when God’s name is mentioned.”
Joel went quiet. He spoke with calm reflection. “Yeah. I guess he is, isn’t he?”
I told Bennie about Hamish at Church. She was really excited.
“Well,” she said, “the opposition will either squash him or give him a fire in his belly to press on for God.”
I thought about Hamish. About how careful he was to guard my promise, his determination to tell his family and his tendency to seize hold of a goal and push on under pressure. The last is probably a family trait, but the first involved more planning and insight than I’m used to seeing in a ten-year-old. The second was all he had wanted to do from the time he entrusted himself to Christ. I have hope.
Bennie and I prayed.
I went to leave Church bursting with energy and restlessness. The time? Quarter to eight. Hmm. I drove out to Paul’s place to find the girls getting out of the bath and changing into PJs. Paul looked up and grinned at me, seeing what I held behind my back.
They ran towards me.
I threw a large cushion at each of them and ran for their bedroom to grab another pillow.
Just in time. Two swirling cushions came pelting at my torso as I turned and made my escape down the hall with my nieces in pursuit. Emily threw her cushion with surprising accuracy. I picked it up and threw it back at her and missed as she ducked. Then turned around and ran into Paul – armed and dangerous.
“Get her Daddy!”
And he did. While I got in a few pathetic shots – Paul is both bigger and more agile. He also has longer arms and can stand further away and still hit me while I can’t reach him. Soon Jazz and Emily came to join in the fray and I’m getting it on all sides until I collapse into a ball on the floor with the girls pelting at me, giggling, and Paul bent over, standing with his weight resting on his hands on his knees – laughing between gasps for breath.
After we’d all settled down, I got to read the bed time story before being tucked into my car and sent on home.
Lord, its on nights like this that I never really want to get home to an empty house. I want someone there who’ll call out,
“That you honey? How were Paul and the girls?”
Then laugh while I tell him all about it. To hold me as I tell him about Joel’s phone call and pray with me for Hamish. He might even make me a hot chocolate … if I smiled nicely enough – and I’d know just the right way.
Father, you know what you’re doing in all of this. Thank you for the plenty that I have. You have given me all that I need and people who love me and want me to be around for them; and people who are there to support me also. Help me to trust you.