Kindergarten Graduation

Vince graduated from kindergarten this morning.  I have often wondered why children graduate from kindergarten.  It isn't as though they will be moving out on their own soon or, taking driver's ed, or even helping out with the household finances.  They are just moving on to first grade, after all.

It still seems like a big deal.  A time of very little people wearing caps and gowns (purple in Paoli) and walking across a stage to shake hands with the Principal.

I suppose it would be easy to make fun of kindergarten graduations as unnecessary.  No one will make it in life (or not make it for that matter) based on their kindergarten performance. 

The short walk for Vince across the stage, was more than that.  It was indicative of a long year of work --  not just school work, but effort learning to relate to other children, to communicate with his teachers, and to grow in so many other ways.

I remember telling the teachers that it would be OK if he repeated kindergarten, if he struggled too much with it.  The most important thing was what was best for Vince.

As he walked across the stage, I thought about the fact that he had gotten all As this year.  That good things are happening in his life, that I didn't know would happen at the beginning of the school year.

I know that God is good and that He is the giver of good gifts.  And a kindergarten graduation is a good time to remember how good He has been to me and to my son.

Fallen Corn

"It's our best garden ever!"  I told my wife, Elaine last summer -- sometime in June.  "We should have plenty of corn and green beans."

The garden did look good.  Corn stalks stood straight and true, pointing towards the skies, the bean plants were bushy and covered with blooms.

Then came June 26th.  A day of heavy rain, mixed with periods of 45 mile per hour winds.  When I got home from work, our corn plants were lying on their sides in the mud, while the bean plants looked disheveled.

As I looked at them, I was really upset.  So much work wasted.  Time that I would never get back had been sunk into these corn rows that looked like they might not bear much at all.  And it was as if I heard God's voice saying to me, as He said to Jonah so long ago, "Do you do well to be angry for the plants?"

"Yes, God," I said.  "Jonah hadn't done anything to bring his plant to be, but Lord, you know how hard I've worked this summer, planting and tilling and how hard Elaine has worked as well."

There was no answer and yet, I understood.  For, I was proud.  Proud of my work, of my effort, of my garden.  That was where my confidence lay.

All the while, it was God who brought about each seed's germination, God who sent the rain and the sun.  While I had taken the credit, He was the one who had made it grow.

It reminded me of a little boy I had heard talking with his dad.  "Now, Cody, I want you to share one of your candies with her," he said pointing to another little girl.  "Whose candy is it Cody?"

Cody looked at the candy in his sweaty little hand.  "It's God's candy," he said at last and gave it to the girl.  It was hard to give away his own candy, but once he knew it was God's it became easier.

I spent forty-five minutes straightening up the corn stalks and while I did so, I knew for sure that it's not my garden.  It is God's garden.  I'm just working in it.  And if He gives or, He takes away, still, I will bless His name.

An Unnecessary Surgery

It came to pass one day that a young man passed through the pillared entrance to my office, in need of an annual examination.  I spoke with him at length about his condition and then proceeded to examine him.

Upon completion of my examination, John resumed his chair.  "John," I told him.  "You are in excellent health."

John gazed upon my countenance for a few moments and then spoke up.  "Good," he said.  "I guess I won't need a hysterectomy then."

I paused for a moment, not quite sure how to respond and then decided that the best course was agreement.  "Yes, John," I said.  "No hysterectomy for you, Sir!"

Now, John was visiting me from a local group home, so I suppose it is understandable that he wouldn't have known exactly what a hysterectomy was.  It is perhaps unusual that he would have worried about his need for such an unknown surgery ahead of his Physical.

I think it is human nature to worry about the uncertain future -- particularly about things that probably will never happen, but that seem scary to think about.  It is still better to give all these things to God, who can more than deal with them.  For, while you never know for sure whether your surgeon may decide to make an extra boat payment with an unnecessary surgery, you can be sure that God will take you through it all.

Lucky Dog!

I was going through the check out line and carefully put several items on the belt.  I placed there some wrapping paper, a bow, and an anniversary card.  Then, I lifted a fifty pound bag of dog food so the cashier could scan its price.

The cashier looked at all of the items.  "Well," she said.  "Somebody's going to be a very lucky dog!"

I laughed with her.  It was coming up on my wedding anniversary and I already had a gift, but not a card, or wrapping paper.  My dog Zeus needs to eat too, regardless of the occasion.  I could see how it could be a reasonable conclusion to draw from my purchases.

It is really hard to draw accurate conclusions based on small bits of information.  Of course, Sherlock Holmes could tell how tall someone was and whether or not he liked Country Music based on a gum wrapper, but I cannot do the same.

Jumping to conclusions is a good way to stir up trouble.  In the end, the only way to know if a man has an awesome dog, or an anniversary coming up is to ask.

Dirty Feet

I'm not sure why, but when the temperature hits about fifty degrees, many children start to run around out of doors with no shoes.  It is a little odd to see my children running around with a coat and bare feet, but I guess that it works.  Perhaps they have a point.  I have heard many a statement about the amazing amount of heat you lose through your head -- never one about how much you lose through your feet.

Anyway, bare feet makes for dirty feet -- sometimes really dirty feet.  The other day, I was giving Elliot a bath and noticing his filthy feet, I said "Whose feet are really dirty?"

As quick as anything, he replied:  "Vince's!"

"No," I said.  "Your feet are really dirty, Elliot."

"No," he shrieked.  "My feet aren't dirty, Vince's are!"

I'm not sure why he was so offended that I should identify his feet as dirty, but he knew how to deflect the accusation.  All he had to do was to point to his brother's feet.

I can identify all too well with my three year old.  For, I am clean, but not all.  Yet, it does me no good at all to shift attention to my brother's problems, rather than deal with sin in my life. 

I have learned long ago that it is better to let your Dad wash your feet, than to go to bed with mud between your toes.