Today he's a respected Christian professional in our community. But legend has it that he had a strong streak of mischief in him when he was a boy, and maybe even now. An older friend from their church told me that when this man was four, his pastor came up to him at a football game and sat down next to him. And the pastor said, "Well, Mark, what have you been doing with yourself lately?" To which Mark replied with a smile, "Would you believe praying?" To which his pastor replied, "No, Mark, I wouldn't believe it." Smart pastor.
Few things in life are so depressing as a boy's long-uncleaned room. Sometimes you might not even want to ask them to clean it. It might be better just to torch it or hose it out like a monkey cage. I remember one time my wife and I wanted to say "I love you" to our boys in a special way. So while they were gone one Saturday, we literally attacked their room. We thought it would be a little easier to keep it clean if we would, this one time, make it clean. When we were done, it was a great place to be again, and when the boys walked into their room, they became believers in miracles. And we did make two things really clear to them. First, "We love you guys." Secondly, "Don't expect us to make this a habit."
My friend Stan was having some new computer systems installed in his office. In the course of their work, the installers asked him what his password was. Well, in order to understand his answer, you need to know that Stan has experienced a dramatic life change because of something that happened to him spiritually a few years ago. He told the computer guys, "My password is 'Jesus.'" Needless to say, they weren't exactly ready for that one. One of them said, "So you can't get in without Jesus?" My friend smiled and said, "Exactly."
I have to admit that my wife and I were a little naïve sometimes in the months right after we were married. It was obvious the day this fast-talking vacuum cleaner salesman showed up at our apartment door. He showed us this high-powered machine that did everything but the laundry. He lured us with impressive demonstrations, he offered us an easy payment plan, and a deal (of course) that we had to act on immediately. Well, Mr. Newlywed here eagerly signed on the line. "All right! Hey, I am the proud owner of a high-tech vacuum cleaner! About five times more vacuum cleaner than our apartment could possibly need!" By the next day, I wanted out, but guess what? I couldn't back out then. In my enthusiasm, I had simply left out the most important ingredient in the decision.
The military has roll call - reading out the names to see if everybody's there. Family get-together? Well, you know who you've got. You've got Mom, Dad, Grandma, Granddad, and grandchildren. You don't usually have roll call. Now, there was a point where we had one three-year-old grandson who took roll in his own little way. While we're all busy in the usual chatter and bustle of everyone catching up, our grandson was obviously evaluating who's there and who isn't. You could tell. Before very long, he would pipe up, "Where's Grandma?" or "Where's Daddy?" or whoever happens to be MIA at the moment. And he wanted answers about where they were and why they weren't there. He wanted every person in the family to be there!
Charles Dickens said it about the French Revolution, "It was the best of times; it was the worst of times." Well, during final exams in college, it's just the worst of times. Actually, it was mostly our own fault. We waited until one or two nights before the exam to try and cram in all that information that we should have been studying all along. Now, my room was always Grand Central Station during finals days. Did you know that? Yes, you can take finals days two ways. I usually took pretty good notes in class, so everyone jammed into my room to try and learn what was there to learn. Hey, the big test was coming, man! We had to learn what was in all those lessons!
When I was a kid, I used to like to put on shows for the other kids in the neighborhood. Hey, wait a minute, am I still doing shows for the kids in the neighborhood? Anyway, I bought a couple of cheap books on magic back then and I had this little kit of magic tricks. Even at my juvenile level, I soon learned that magic wasn't really magic - it was illusions. My beginner magic book talked about how this basic magician skill was called misdirection. The idea is that while you're doing the trick over here you do something that will get everybody looking over there. They said it helped to talk a lot. Well, I knew I'd at least be good at that part.
When I meet people who went to elementary or high school with my wife, they tell me she was shy. I didn't know her then, but I have found that very hard to accept. From the time I met her at a Christian college, she was like vivacious, she was outgoing and she was confident. I've asked her about this seeming contradiction. You know what she told me? Both descriptions are right. In her secondary school years, she lived in the country with parents who gave her a lot of love and courtesy and spiritual wealth, but who didn't have much of what our world calls wealth. So, she lived in a home without the conveniences that many of her friends in town would consider basic. She didn't have money to spend on clothes or makeup, so she felt a little self-conscious in a campus world that was so much about the way you dress and the "stuff" you have. But when she got to a Christian college, suddenly everything changed. Here's how she put it: "For the first time in my life, the playing field was level."
I don't have much time for TV, and when I do, I don't usually watch gymnastics. But some time ago they were showing a sports feature about gymnastics on a plane flight. As usual, I had too much to do to get the headset that carries the audio, but I did occasionally glance up at the video part. It was a gymnastics meet between the U.S. and Russia. You can probably guess who I was rooting for. Now, I couldn't hear any commentary, but I saw some impressive performances by these young athletes. I also saw an occasional replay. But every time they did a replay, it seems like all they showed was the gymnast's mistakes; anything she was marked down for, and they kept replaying it. They had executed some great moves, but no, we don't go over those - just their mistakes.
It was the strangest picnic in American history I think. It was July 1861, on a hill in Northern Virginia, overlooking a stream called Bull Run. The Southern states had seceded from the Union, they'd attacked a Union fort in April, and now what the North called "the rebel army" was headed for Washington, D.C. Most people in the capitol thought the Union Army was going to mop up these Southern forces in a matter of weeks, and they wanted to see it happen as the Northern troops moved to engage the Confederates at Bull Run. They came from church in their Sunday best, the ladies and gentlemen of Washington arriving at the hill overlooking Bull Run in their carriages. They laid out their tablecloths, commenced their picnic, and started passing the fried chicken. Down below, the men in blue and the men in gray mingled their blood in the waters of Bull Run.
Now, I had never been to a quilt auction before. And I probably never would have been to one except for the fact that I had been invited to speak at an outreach at a Mennonite Relief Sale, where thousands come to bid on items made by Mennonite and Amish craftspeople. All the funds go toward worldwide relief efforts. That's cool! It was amazing to hear the spiraling bids shouted out for some exquisitely designed quilts. While I was there, one went for $2,000. Last year, they told me that one quilt had gone for $4,000. They even had sold two handmade dolls for almost $1,000. I was there long enough to see what gave great value to an auction item. See, those dolls were made by a Ugandan refugee. The quilt that went for $4,000 was made laboriously by a severely handicapped woman, and it was the last one she made before she died. When we were told who made it, and when we were told the effort they went to make it, it was suddenly worth a whole lot more.
One lousy moose - that's all our family wanted to see. The moose did not get the memo. Or he did get the memo and he took off. We were on our first trip to Alaska years ago, and all five Hutchcrafts were determined, "We're going to meet a moose." After all, like they're grazing in every backyard in Alaska, right? Well, the February we were there it looked like they'd decided to take the winter in the Bahamas. I was busy speaking at some meetings, so my wife and kids were out driving around, you know, looking for a moose. They even went to the animal sanctuary. We were told there was always a moose there. Not always. Several people told us about hitting a moose that suddenly appeared in the middle of the road. Not any on the road we were on. Someone suggested leaving a Hershey bar on our car - something about a chocolate mousse. Anyway, we weren't that desperate. Well, lots of looking, no finding. Next morning, we drove down the driveway of the house someone had loaned to us and guess what? Yep! Three moose, grazing at the end of the driveway. I guess you don't find moose; they find you.
Our kids were part of the Sesame Street generation. Maybe you can hear the theme song in the back of your mind; it depends on your age. They grew up watching what was then the most creative, groundbreaking children's program of its time. And Sesame Street always had an interesting cast of Muppet characters to make learning more interesting. I mean, who could forget Bert and Ernie, and Mr. Snuffleupagus, and Big Bird (who I always thought looked like a canary on steroids)? And, of course, the epitome of poor hygiene, Oscar the Grouch. In case you've been culturally deprived, Oscar is this hairy creature with his big eyes and a bad attitude who lives in a garbage can. He even sings a song called, "I Love Trash." Oscar doesn't have to live in a garbage can. He chooses to. No wonder he's got a bad attitude!
A runaway train: that's how they billed the upcoming story on the evening news, and I stayed tuned. They weren't exaggerating. Somehow a freight train (this actually happened in Ohio a few years ago) started rolling down the tracks with no one on board. It kept rolling for many miles across the Ohio countryside, sometimes at speeds of nearly 60 MPH. It was pretty amazing to see the footage of a railroad intersection, lights blinking, gates down, cars stopped, and here is a train just rolling through without anyone at the controls. Well, using a combination of ingenuity and heroism, they finally managed to get a couple of men aboard who were able to stop it. And that's a very good thing!
My wife and her family were out for a swim in a nearby river. They had invited their pastor to go with them. He was pretty much a pool swimmer - a lake swimmer. He was unfamiliar with the river currents that can make swimming a little more challenging than usual. Pastor wasn't aware of the whirlpool in that water near the bluffs that overlooked the river. He got too close, and suddenly he got sucked into that swirling water. Their pastor was in serious trouble. And since everyone was swimming, they didn't immediately see the danger he was in. He'd already gone down twice when he finally managed to get off one yell for help. My father-in-law responded immediately and he went in for the rescue, and he saved his pastor's life that day.
Our grandson was three years old and he found something he really liked in the Christian bookstore. He brought it to his Daddy and he told him he really wanted it. Our son-in-law said, "Well, do you have any money?" Sadly, our grandson said, "No." But his disappointment was quickly replaced with determination as he went over to this display area where they have this fake money you can buy. He marched up to the cash register with the prize he wanted and the "money" to pay for it. Dad re-entered the scene at that point and said, "Is that really money?" Finally, our grandson faced the sad reality. He said, "No. It's not really money."
I was with some missionaries in Guadalajara, Mexico, and David was there leading a team that was reaching young Latin Americans through a historic youth broadcast we had going. Now David is a big guy and I had my picture taken with him; he was wearing a tie - I was wearing a sport shirt. It looked like "bring your son to work day." Guess who looked like the son. Because of the crime rate in David's area, he and his family needed a guard dog, and they had one; a big one that's a match even for his master, David. The dog was appropriately named General and he was pretty much in charge at the house. When David came home from a night of ministry, General was right there at the gate, waiting to play. Playing with this aggressive German Shepherd could cost you a finger or two if you're not careful. But, somehow, David had done a good job of mastering the dog. In fact, I heard him tell General, "Get your bowl, and I'll feed you!" General just wanted his master to give him food, but David wanted him to go for it. So, this German Shepherd bolted up the walk to his big, empty plastic bowl, grabbed it in his iron jaws, and trotted up to his master with it. Sure enough, if he got his bowl, his master would fill it.
It started out as a family adventure; it ended as a family tragedy. James Reddick took his 12-year-old son and his 11-year-old daughter on a hiking expedition up on Mount Rainier in Washington State. All of a sudden, a freak snowstorm arose and it created instant blizzard conditions and hurricane force winds. There was a blinding "white out" around them; they couldn't go any further. Dad knew they had to create some kind of shelter. All he could do was to cut out a large hole in the ground; he used a cup from their cooking kit actually to do it, and then he put his children in that hole and covered it with a tarp. But the fierce winds just kept blowing the tarp away, and that left the children exposed to that deadly storm. The father tried everything he could to hold down the tarp. Nothing worked. Finally, he made one last desperate attempt to save his children. He actually lay across that hole himself to keep the snow from blowing in. Two days later, a search party noticed the edge of a backpack. They uncovered the hole and they found the two children alive and well. But first they uncovered their father who froze to death, protecting the ones he loved.
I was around a lot of construction people when we were building our Ministry Headquarters, and there's nothing that means more to a tradesman than his tools. The good old hammer is your basic, fundamental tool. And the capabilities of a hammer literally run the gamut. I've seen men make things with a hammer. But, then again, I've seen men break things with a hammer, too!
Our son had the privilege of playing on a state championship football team in high school. And that's a really big deal! They were the toast of the school, heroes of the town, for a while, until next year. Some of those heroes came back from college to visit the old alma mater, and you know what? They just weren't a big deal anymore. Some new guys were the ones wearing the jerseys now and getting all the attention. Sorry, guys! Last year's glory - yesterday's news. What do you bet those guys will still be looking for someone to tell about the big game when they're 70 years old?
