As
a child, what kind of worker were you? How often did your parents
have to yell to get you to work? (Serendipity Bible 10th
Anniversary Edition, page 1373).
All
Hands Working
One
of my fondest memories is of my father’s discipline. Being a man
filled with the fruit of the Spirit, he handled discipline with
measured discernment and great self-control. When we lived in Oviedo
we had many oak trees in the front yard. It was our boys’ duty to
help rake the leaves. We all three (Daddy, Bobby, and me) would set
out on a Saturday afternoon and begin the chore. The interest in
leave-raking for me (at about 8 years) did not last all that long,
and I would soon find myself pivoting on the rake handle looking
fondly down the road. At this point Daddy would always look at me and say with a
wink and a little mischief in his voice “I think that rake handle
hurts your hands.” With this playful remark he accomplished
several things. In tone he was telling me that he loved me
completely. He simultaneously was in effect asking me if I was a
wimp, and if I did not cotton to that idea then he was making the
alternative clear, get on task. God, I loved that man.
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