Boys and Boats
By Bruce McIver
[Dr. Bruce McIver is the author of Stories I Couldn`t Tell While I Was a Pastor and Just As Long As I`m Riding Up Front. For 30 years he was pastor of the Wilshire Baptist Church in Dallas.]
Some time ago four of our grandchildren-ages six to less than one year-spent several days with us. They left Lawanna and me bushed, battered, and bruised; but we`ll survive-on heaps of love and lots of memories. Somehow spilled milk, fingerprints on windows and doors, and early morning awakenings (very early) now blend into something beautiful. I guess that`s the way love is. You remember the best.
Just as they left for the airport, John-John, then age 4, climbed up into my lap, put his arms around my neck, snuggled up close and said, "Goose, I want to stay with you `til I die."
Gulp. Silence. A tear. I was too choked up to speak, but words weren`t necessary.
We clung to each other for a moment, and then I remembered yesterday. Lawanna had fixed a picnic lunch (peanut butter sandwiches, no less) and we`d gone down to White Rock Lake, a short distance from our house. It was a good outing. We were surrounded by wobbly ducks looking for bits of bread, egrets who stood like statues knee-deep in water, and squirrels who scampered all over (including our picnic table) for hand-outs.
Finally, I was able to speak. "That would be nice, John-John," I said. "Then we could go to the lake…and feed the ducks….and chase the squirrels…."
"And buy a boat!" John-John exclaimed with eyes as big as saucers.
For half a second I was tempted to shout, "Yeah! Buy a boat!"
Then, I chuckled. Grandchildren are always half a step ahead of you. I hadn`t even mentioned or thought about a boat. Besides, they don`t let motorboats on White Rock Lake. And, besides again, boats cost money…and…and….
The "adult" in me was now winning. This was a time for logic, reason, and practicality.
As the "adult" in me won the battle, the "child" in me began slowly to die. Maturity had won…again. I explained to John-John with facts and figures and common sense why this wouldn`t work. For a moment he also seemed to understand but the saucer-like eyes relaxed as he released his tight hold around my neck. With a quick kiss he jumped down and rushed off to play with the other children.
I wanted to rush with him, but the "adult" in me told me I was tired and this was a game for little boys and girls.
Sitting there, I thought of the promises Jesus made to his disciples. Promises of joy and peace and thrills and challenges. Promises that would take his message into all the world. Promises of forgiveness and hope and celebration.
But the "adult" in me wouldn`t give up, and all that thinking soon passed. Reason and logic and the practical had once again put the "child" in me back in his proper place.
I left my chair and moved slowly-like an old man-into my study…laboriously to prepare a sermon that would, I hoped, excite a congregation. Oh, maybe so…maybe not.
But in the ensuing days I`ve been thinking a lot about what Jesus said, "Unless you become like children you can`t enter the kingdom."
And I`ve been thinking of what John-John said with wide-eyed expectations about that boat.
You know, John-John and I might just buy that boat some day, even if we don`t have a lake to put it in! It would be fun to take a risk…like two little kids. And, if I do, don`t call me an "old fool." Call me a "grown-up child."
