Thought 332
Growing up….what do you
remember?
I
remember my mom reading me books . . . and making a deal with the reward of
desert if I would take a nap! I wasn’t a really energetic child by the way, and
still am not as a young adult, but my five year-old brother is a whole ‘nother
story about energy! I remember the much
wasted time in front of the television. And the hours of Star Wars obsession: playing the VHS and DVD’s tapes over and over,
playing with the figures, dressing up and wielding my lightsaber, playing the
video games, and wasting a lot of money on anything Star Wars. I remember building Linking Log forts for my hundreds of plastic Dollar Tree Cowboys
and Indians. As well as, hours of playing, building, and managing wars among my
Lego’s. Hours wasted in playing the video games as I got older. And working
outside and hauling brush away as my Dad cut the trees down with his chainsaw.
O those days! Playing with army men for
4 to 6 hours at a time;—literally!—commanding my troops and giving each general
and prominent soldier a unique “voice.” I remember those days of a light school
load! I had less responsibility, no teaching
preparation, no work, and very few memorable hardships. Reading Sugar Creek Gang books for hours only
end, historical classics like Robinson
Crusoe, as well as, the closeness of a fight with stuck-up older elementary
student who was making fun of my mom, wrestling matches with friends, times
where I would try to start fires out by my fort in the woods with a hammer and
a rock that made “pretty sparks,” (It was a good thing I never accomplished that one.) I remember
building somewhere around twelve log cabins, only to tear them down because
they didn’t look right or were over an insects nest. I remember the pain of numerous rejections as
I Proposed to various girls I thought were “the One.” I remember the sorrow of
having a bruised knee. I remember praying for a brother on my tenth birthday
and having one on the way by my 11th! I remember praying for a
little sister and several years later after two miscarriages (painful to the
whole family) here she is—precious, little Erin. I remember the pain of losing
my dear Grandmother to Luis Gehrig’s disease.
I’ve babbled on about my childhood, but what
do you remember? Good things? Bad things? Or a combinations of the two? Think
back…and look for the Lord’s personal work in those years.
