I was on an airplane flight and I overheard a conversation in the seats behind me. Eavesdropping? Maybe. In any case, there was this boy flying with his Dad and he was full of questions...I mean the little guy. He said, "Daddy, what are all those lights for? Daddy, why did part of the wing go down? Daddy, why is it called Lake Erie?" See, the pilot told us the name of it, but he didn't necessarily tell us why it's named that.
Sometimes I forget all the things that our uncle pays for. I mean, Uncle Sam. Well, a while back they were talking about another government shutdown. Oh, it's happened before, and it probably will happen again sometime when there's political deadlock in Washington. But I remember this time as they talked about it, they started to reveal all the things that wouldn't happen if the government shut down; all the people and the services that would feel the pain if Uncle Sam didn't get some money. For example, it looked like America's military and government workers might not get paid, and they're doing more things for us than we ever realized, and they wouldn't be seeing their paycheck on time. It looked like even our National Parks were going to be affected. Can you imagine Smokey the Bear not getting paid?
Sometime when you're tired of pushing your way through the mall, just sit down somewhere and watch the children play. Yeah, playing the amateur psychologist, I've observed children relating to their parents there on three different levels. First, there are the kids who are running ahead of their parents - until they suddenly realize they are lost in a sea of legs. Now, at my height, I can relate to that feeling. Then there are also those children who are walking along, holding Mom or Dad's hand - they know the mall is not for the small, so they hang onto a tall. But my favorites are the little ones who are totally exhausted and sort of collapsed in their parents' arms. Their legs have gone on strike and their parents are carrying them. In fact, the child is often sleeping soundly with his head embedded in his parent's shoulder. You've seen them all. Sometimes, I've even said to a parent carrying a child like that - "Now that's the way to travel, isn't it?" It really is.
In many years of youth ministry I have learned that teenagers love to get mail, and if they get mail, whatever form it's in, they probably look at it. They don't actually get all that much sometimes. And then, oh yeah, well, we used to send out promotional pieces when, you know, there was snail mail. And there had to be a good attention-getter on it.
You know, I've been told so many times in my life, "Go take a hike," so I finally did. Yeah, this particular summer I was at a lovely Christian conference center in California. One day when I wasn't speaking, they had a nature hike. They had a fellow called Father Nature who took us out (you didn't know there was a Father Nature I'll bet) and he showed us the four different kinds of nature zones they had on their property.
I'll bet you remember these familiar words, "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can. I think I can." Sure you do. Well, I hope you do, or else you had a deprived childhood. Because most of us grew up on those words. It's that little book, The Little Engine That Could. I think Fred Flintstone must have read it to his kids. I mean it's that old. Remember, the little engine tries to make it up to the top of the mountain, with this train load of toys. It's a mountain no other train was able to navigate. And as he gets near the top, he says, "I think I can. I think I can (puff, puff, chug, chug)." Oh, I've read it so many times to my kids and my grandkids. Well, as you remember, of course, he makes it to the top of the mountain. It's a great book. It's got a great philosophy of life. It's a great confidence builder. But maybe right now you've hit a mountain that you really can't climb. Maybe you need to read that book again - or I've got an idea. How about a much better book.
Hey, I really like Florida. It's a great place, but I'll probably never live there. I enjoy going there, but my problem is I'm a four-seasons freak. I grew up with the four seasons. I enjoy the changes of season. I think I would miss that a lot. Of course, I grew up in the north and I probably got used to it.
In ongoing attempts to establish more regular exercise in our lives, my wife and I had moved into this walking kick. And, you know, that was a good idea. Actually, my wife took the research approach, including reading books on walking, which I wasn't sure was necessary since I've been walking since I was about a year old. One of those books was by a man who literally walked across America. I was hoping that was not one of my wife's goals for our exercise program. I was intrigued, though, by an observation made by this super-walker. When someone asked him what the greatest obstacle was in his long hike across the country, (You want to guess?) he gave a pretty surprising answer. He said, "The little pebbles I got in my shoes."
I was blessed one time by an observation made by a three-year-old granddaughter. A friend asked her, "What's your granddad up to these days?" To which she simply replied: "Oh, he's getting taller." I am? I'd like to think she's right. I think I'll go measure.
Okay, we're going to do a little experiment right now. If you're near something printed - and you're not driving - let's say a book, a newspaper, a magazine - would you just hold it in front of your eyes? Okay, now wait, if you're driving, remember you're excused from this.
