This is my 701st blog post since I started blogging in February of 2007. I dedicate it to my kids.
We climbed into the car and made the hour drive north to a little town called Ashtabula, Ohio. She was attracted by the lure of fantasy, dancing, and a little girl's wonder. I was attracted by the lure of quality time with my best little girlfriend in the whole world. We were on a quest. There was a memory waiting for us. And we were determined to grab it while it flew past.
Side by side we sat in the dark theater as sugarplums danced and toy soldiers pirouetted for our pleasure. We got lost in the wonder of the moment. By the end of the story all was well with the world. She was only a few short years into her lifeline. I was a naive father wet behind the ears. Hand in hand we left the little theater that night, back in the car and in an hour we were back home. Activity: over. Memory: still living on.
We climbed into the canoe and paddled the ten minute ride to a little spot on the 8-acre lake. He was attracted by the lure of a live, moving fish on the end of his pole. I was attracted by the quality of time with my best little guy friend in the whole world. We were on a quest. There was a memory waiting for us. And we were determined to grab it while it flew past.
He sat in front; I sat in back as bluegill danced and small-mouth bass pirouetted for our pleasure. We got lost in the wonder of the moment. By the end of that first fishing trip we'd caught 14 fish. He was only a few short years into his lifeline. I was a naive father still wet behind the ears. Side by side we left the little lake that day, canoe in the back of the truck and in 30 minutes we were back home. Activity: over. Memory: still living on.
TO THE YOUNG FATHERS
The little girl who sat beside me in the dark theater is now a college senior. The little boy who sat in front of me in the canoe is now a college freshman. Still a naive father wet behind the ears, I no longer journey with ballets and boats, but with career choices and college dorms.
And before I grab the hand of my wife of over 25 years and take the breath-taking leap off this wonderful and uncertain cliff called Empty Nest, I want you young fathers to know one thing:
The ACTIVITY will be over in an instant. The MEMORY will last a lifetime.
Don't waste the activity or you will regret the memory. Time is not on your side. It's a rushing wind. You must reach out and grab the "dark theaters" and the "canoes" as they pass by at the blink of an eye. If you don't they.will.be.gone.forever. Your father-influence is at stake. Don't ever let your concept of "professional ministry" rob you of Nutcrackers and Canoes.
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