Cussing with David

“Daddy, want to know all the bad words I know?” asked my six-year-old son David.

We were driving home from school just the two of us, so I said: “Sure. Fire away.”

“Well, I know the S word,” he said.

“Really,” I said.

“It starts with an S-H actually,” he said.

“Really,” I said, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter.

“You use it when you want people to be quiet,” he explained.

“Oh,” I said. “That is bad.”

“I know the F word, too,” he said.

I readjusted the rearview mirror to get a look at him.

“It’s another word for toot.”

“Yeah, I prefer using toot,” I said, which is true.

“Then, I know the D word,” David continued on his litany.

How come every NON-cuss word starts with a letter of a REAL cuss word? I wondered.

“It is the same as the other S word.”

“I wouldn’t use either of those,” I remarked.

“And the B word for when people throw up, and O.M.G…You can say that, but you can’t say the words.”

“You really do know a lot of bad words,” I said.

“Yeah,” said David with pride.

“Want to know something Dave Dave?” I call David Dave Dave.  

“Sure,” he said.

“I love you,” I said.

“Love is a good word,” said David.

“Yes it is,” I said.

ChristMAS

CHRIST-MAS

Heading north on Highway 21 near Elkin, you will pass what our family most affectionately calls “The Goldilocks Church.” There’s Baby Bear, a teenie church with its modest four pillars all in a row; then Mama Bear a grown-up church with its four pillars all in a row; and Papa Bear, the big daddy church, just like Mama Bear and Baby Bear with its four pillars all in a row.  

I guess as the congregation grew so did the church. It must have saved them a ton in architect fees to use the same design – just put the original blueprint in the Zerox machine and hit zoom.

It’s one of those churches with a sign in front of it. You know, the one with the letters. Like the sign that said: “Honk if you love Jesus. Text while driving if you want to meet him.” Or “Looking for a lifeguard? We know one that walks on water.” Or “Does your life stink? Well, we’ve got a pew for you.” Those kind of signs.

This church’s sign said: “Keep the CHRIST in Christmas.”

Hell yeah, I thought. He’s the reason for the season.

Actually, to tell you the truth, what I really did (and this may tell you a bit of my subversive nature) is I took the CHRIST out of Christmas…and what does that give you?

Well, it gives you MAS!

I don’t know what it was, maybe the fact that I had just eaten dinner at this Cuban Restaurant called TexMex (misleading, right?) – but the MAS really stuck out to me.

MAS…more…more of what?

I want more of a lot of things. Maybe you want more of a lot things, too.

But this Christmas what about asking for a little MAS of Jesus?

MAS CHRIST. More Christ.

I like the sound of that.

This ChristMAS, may you receive more of Him than you ever have before. Amen.

Childhood Perspective

My parents recently celebrated their 50th Wedding Anniversary. You read that right. 50 years! That's incredible to me on about twenty levels. 

One level was the angle it offered me on my past - to see it through my parents' eyes. 

We don't always get this perspective. For the most part, my growing up was tables at eye level and Legos on the ground, food I ate because it was placed before me, a bed I slept in because it was in the room designated as mine. I didn't question these things. I experienced them. It was what I knew of life. 

It is the life we all remember. 

But having the unenviable task of putting together a slideshow for the party, I noticed something. Do you see it?

How about here?



Or here?

Do you see it yet? My parents. They're not looking at the camera. They're looking...at me. They are treasuring me. 

I was treasured. I grew up knowing that I think. Knowing it without knowing it if you know what I mean. I never thought about the consequences, the implications. I never thought about how much that mattered. That I was treasured...loved...that I was the apple of their eye. 

But thinking about it now I can't tell you how much of a gift that was. 

I wonder, could they have given me anything better?

I don't think so.  

Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad. 

Congratulations on your accomplishment. I know it hasn't been easy - which makes it all the sweeter.