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Sunday, December 29, 2013

Fond Memories of Receiving Discipline

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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