Your Relationships

Tuesday, September 5, 2006

It was Father's Day, and my friend Dave and I were making the most of it. Our families were spending the day together and Dave and I knew what our job was on Father's Day - loafing and making sure everyone understood our needs. And sometimes someone even paid attention to us for a second. Well, all of us were sitting at the picnic table in the yard and I was explaining what the day's activities were going to be and why Dave and I were the ones making the plans. I said, "It's Father's Day." To which his son mumbled this interesting comment, "At our house, every day is Father's Day." And that got me thinking.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

I may be sleeping, but a lot of the world isn't. They're busy making news while I'm asleep. The world's a little different from the time I closed my eyes till the time I woke up. Sometimes it's majorly different, and I want to know what's happened. I think most people do. That's probably why there aren't many evening newspapers anymore. Mine arrives pretty early each morning, and I like to at least check out the headlines. Of course, I like it better when it's good news - which quite often it isn't.

Friday, July 7, 2006

I grew up as an only child. You say, "I can tell." Thank you very much. My parents took me to most of the places that they went, but I remember one time they left me home by myself. I was home alone. (We could probably make a movie about that.) Well, anyway, we lived in this third floor apartment on the south side of Chicago. It was getting very late and I was sitting near the back door waiting and they should have been home by now, and I was really worried. I can remember hearing sirens and I thought, "Oh, no!" My imagination was taking me all over the place. I was thinking all the bad things that might have happened to my parents. I was already there and then the sirens came. I was sure the sirens were for my mommy and my daddy, but they weren't. But the fear I had that night was so great, I still remember it, don't I?

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Our sons had them when they were little - action figures of their TV heroes. Every new generation of kids has their action figures: GI Joe, Superman, Star Wars, X-Men. But recently I caught a story on a TV news show about the best action figure idea I've ever heard of. They were talking about a company, the name of which I didn't catch, who are making custom action figures dressed in contemporary combat dress. It's especially for the children of Americans serving in Iraq. Guess whose face is on the action figure? Your Dad!

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

We were in the living room of a Native American family who are among the few Jesus followers in their entire tribe, and Mom was telling us about how Jesus entered their family. Her Grandmother had been a priestess in their tribal religion until she discovered what she called "The Black Book," and discovered the love of Jesus Christ. She was the first Christian in their family, and the village leaders didn't like it at all. In fact, when people decided to follow Jesus in that tribe, they expelled them from the village. It happened so suddenly the family had no home. They moved into a tiny building outside the village, but Grandpa wanted to build a house big enough for his family. Well, every day his job took him across the fields to work, and every day he brought something home with him; a large stone to build a house with - the house the lady telling the story grew up in.

Tuesday, June 6, 2006

This would come under the heading of, "You know it's going to be a bad day when..." My wife and I were stopped at a stoplight during the rush hour one morning. We were on a local street that intersects the busiest highway in the area at that point. Now there are two lanes, OK, but we were in the left one - left turn lane. The light turned green, I started turning left, and I noticed another car next to me on my right turning left from the right lane. No, no, not supposed to! That's illegal, and it's pretty dangerous at this intersection. Well suddenly, our friendly scofflaw sees this blinking light in his rear view mirror. He has just made that illegal turn right in front of a police officer! Duh! Needless to say, he was pulled over on the shoulder before he'd even cleared the intersection. He's not even out of the neighborhood yet and he's been caught!

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Our older son dreamed since first grade about playing his first high school football game, and the day finally came. And the first game was an "away" game. It was a freshman game, and let me tell you, at freshman games, the parental attendance was usually underwhelming! Well, my wife and I were huddled conspicuously in the bleachers, up there with a few others. And finally the team came in with their mix-and-match freshman uniforms. Of course, we're looking for only #76. We didn't take our eyes off of #76, our son. And he, on the other hand, oh, he's all business, man, looking appropriately all macho - staring straight ahead - game face. Oh, he wasn't about to be needing Mom and Dad, but he couldn't resist a glance. For just a moment, he glanced from under that helmet into the stands, and our eyes met. And then, he was quickly back at the field - no smile, no wave, except from us, but our son had to know we were there. Our presence was very noticeable. Our absence would have been, too.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

The sign said, "Antique Auto Show." So, my wife and I decided that we'd take a few minutes and stop at this car dealership and look at the antique autos. Really, we were interested in seeing the ones that went back to the 50s and the 60s when we were young. There was this one sleek, black '66 Mustang and it had a flawless exterior, a really rich interior, and the hood was open so you could look at the horsepower underneath. And there sitting on the engine block was a thick book of photos. It wasn't the guy's children or grandchildren. It was his car, and at the beginning of this photo album there were "before" pictures of this car. Well, let me tell you, it was garbage when he started. The first pictures were of this rusted out wreck, this banged-up Mustang. That must have been what he bought. And as you look through the book step-by-step you could see the car was being slowly transformed. It took months and maybe years of the owner's patient attention to get this beautiful classic. When the owner saw that wreck, he saw more than a wreck. He saw something that others didn't see.

Wednesday, May 3, 2006

One of the wonderful gifts the Lord has given us in our Ministry Headquarters is a great studio for producing our radio programs. As our building was being built, the builders had to keep the concrete floor of the studio area separate from the floor of the rest of the building. It's called a floating floor, which simply means that the studio floor is totally isolated from the floor under everything else. The reason? A radio studio has to have an environment where no outside sound affects what you're recording. So to help create a totally controlled sound environment, you have a floating floor so other sounds won't travel through the floor and infect the studio area. If you want a pure sound, you have to isolate yourself from all outside vibrations.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

It was early 1997, when Americans heard those unsettling words on the evening news, "airline pilots strike." Man, I hate words like that! The threat of American Airlines pilots going on strike threw everyone affected by it into a tailspin. Panicky travelers were scrambling to double book their reservations on another airline just in case, resort areas serviced by American Airlines began to add up the zillions this might cost them, the White House started adding up the devastating financial cost on the economy - so much that the President stepped in to at least delay the strike. Well, the simple fact is, planes are going nowhere without pilots. If they don't show up for their job, it gets real crazy real fast.



Ron Hutchcraft Ministries
P.O. Box 400
Harrison, AR 72602-0400

(870) 741-3300
(877) 741-1200 (toll-free)
(870) 741-3400 (fax)


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