Our friend Mark grew up on the farm; actually on an Ozark Mountain farm. And that means rocks in your fields! One local grandfather used to say, "Every time it rains I grow rocks in my field." Mark knows all about that. Over a period of time, his mother made him clear hundreds of rocks out of one of their fields when he was just a little boy. Recently, Mark bought some land from his mother. And as he has started to work one of those fields, he was really pleasantly surprised by how amazingly rock-free it is. Then it dawned on him, this was the field he had made rock-free when he was a boy!
There's an island on the New Jersey Shore that our family loved to go to when we had a holiday weekend. After you cross the causeway from the mainland, you enter an island that is long and really narrow. In fact, at many points, you can drive down the long street that runs through the center of that island and you see the bay just to one side and the ocean just on the other side. I've driven that long street many, many times. Because it's flat, you can see the traffic lights way ahead of you. Often, I would start off with a green light in front of me and I'd be looking at some red lights up ahead; maybe a long line of red lights. But as I approached them, those reds would turn green, and I kept going. You'll be happy to know that when I came to a red light, I stopped - like the good boy I am. You knew that!
Our daughter was driving through town with our four-year-old grandson in the back seat. As she passed a local senior housing facility, she said, "Honey, that's where my grandfather lived until he died." At that point, our four-year-old jumped in with a respectful correction of his Mommy's choice of words. "Until Jesus called him home," he said. There was a pause, and then our grandson added, "And someday Jesus will call me home too."
I spoke at a conference where the director decided to take me backstage by means of a route worthy of the Secret Service. The meeting was in a hotel conference room, and the director guided me through a back hallway, into the kitchen area, and then through a series of twists and turns that are usually navigated only by their waiters I think. I don't usually expect to find great wisdom at times like this, but this time I did. It was a sign on the wall, obviously designed to minimize employee injuries. Five little words that struck me as great advice for my everyday life "Bend knees for heavy lifting."
It was chaos in our living room. Most of the family was there, and we are not a quiet bunch. Everyone's a communicator and so everyone was communicating. The adults were involved in several conversations at once. Our two young grandsons were playing with, well let's call it enthusiasm - maybe hoping to command a little attention. Surveying the uproar in our living room, I suddenly noticed a precious scene in the corner. It was our son with his dark-haired infant daughter, sprawled peacefully in her Daddy's arms. First they had been cheek to cheek, then she just simply fell asleep, oblivious to the storm going on around her, and safe in her Daddy's arms.
When you travel a lot, you eat in restaurants a lot. And so I've seen my share of waiters and waitresses - some who do a good job, some whose service leaves something to be desired, and a few who are outstanding at what they do. You try to say a special thank you with a special tip for that kind of server, right? One example of stellar service: those servers who check regularly to see if you need more water, without being asked for it; who automatically check to see if you want ketchup or steak sauce or more bread or more anything. It just feels good when someone cares enough to anticipate what you need.
I was speaking at this beautiful conference center, and I'd actually been expecting to stay at the inn where the conferees would be, because that's where I've stayed on previous occasions. But this time they gave my wife and me the key to what they called one of their "remote cabins." Well, I asked the man in charge if everyone they sent to those cabins came back. He smiled and said, "Yeah, if the bears don't get you." Actually, it was a fabulous cabin, nestled in the woods with this spectacular mountain view. But there's limited access to these cabins. They are located on a long mountain lane, the entrance to which is unmarked and it's guarded by a gate. They gave us a pass that opens that gate. Apparently, they don't want anyone else following you in. I'll tell you, that gate opens for a brief time and then it closes. So get movin', Roscoe! My guess is that the bears - they don't need a pass.
I could tell that our first grandson was going to be a busy little guy when he was just a little guy. He wasn't even in school yet, and he was already immersed in a project of some kind. And when I mean he got immersed, he got immersed. One day he was involved first in a detailed coloring project where he was intently working to have it just right, you know. And then there was a large puzzle he was focused on completing. What he hadn't taken time for recently, though, was what a lot of little boys don't take time for - a bathroom stop. Too busy you know. Knowing this boy understands video functions very well, his Dad just said, "Time for a bathroom break. Don't you think it's time to hit 'pause'?" Without looking up from his current project, our grandson said in all sincerity, "I don't have a 'pause.'"
Why are refrigerator doors important? Well, you probably say, "To keep the cold inside," or "to keep that little light inside from burning out." Yeh, that's true too. But you might be forgetting one of the most valuable functions of a refrigerator door. That's right; it is a great place to display the artwork of your children or your grandchildren! Right! Ours has been covered for years. Now, throughout our house and our offices, you can find pictures drawn by our grandchildren, crafts made by our grandchildren. You may not think they're masterpieces or great works of art, but they're precious to us.
Our 18-month-old grandson rapidly became a bulldozer on two legs. He didn't actually walk anywhere; he ran everywhere. And no comments about being like his grandfather! Of course, he didn't always get around like that. First, he only went where one of us carried him. Then the crawling started. He didn't do that for long. He graduated to walking real fast. And, like every baby who ever learned to walk, he began by taking a step or two and then falling down. I guess he could have said to himself after a couple of falls, "Oh well, I guess I wasn't cut out to walk. It's just too hard. I keep falling down. I think I'll just lie here from now on." Oh, great! So now he's 18 years old, his mother has to vacuum around him, and his friends come over and he says, "Hey, you want to roll into my room with me?" No, it didn't work that way. After he went "step-boom," he got back up and he went "step-step-boom." And then "step-step-step-step-boom." And now I can't stop him!
Our youngest son had waited a long time for this. He had loved this girl for a long time and she had loved him. And now it was time to ask her to spend the rest of her life with him. So, he asked her to go with him on an old horse-drawn carriage ride along some beautiful mountain paths. In cahoots with the driver, he asked if they could stop to take a picture on a nearby footbridge - just out of sight, of course. Well, the driver was loving every minute of this. On that bridge, overlooking a picturesque little stream, our son declared his lifetime love and he asked the woman he loves to become his wife. She was not surprised that he would ask someday, but this day she was overwhelmed. He awaited her answer and it was more beautiful than our son could have ever scripted. She just said, "It would be my highest honor." P.S. - the wedding was awesome.
