Kids, wasted meals, and the value of life
Oh, and teenage attitudes too
As I write this Monday Memo, I’m in the midst of preparations to head back to my teaching job in the morning. So, I guess I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that there’s that tiny bit of soul-groaning I’m feeling knowing that vacation time is up.
It’s a little less amplified for me than others, I’m sure, largely because I’m blessed to have a job I love, with people that I love. Not everyone has that. Others will sometimes express shock that I can “love” working with the “attitudes of 17-year-olds” every day. My response to them has been the same for the last 20 years: it’s either that, or go into the adult workforce and deal with grown-ups who act like 17-year-olds. I’d rather have the real thing than the imitations that should have matured, but apparently opted out.
Oh, and to be honest, the end of a 2-week vacation hits a bit easier for me because unlike most people, I have the promise of looming snow days, fog delays, and a 2-week Spring Break on the horizon. I’m not saying all that to brag, but just to acknowledge that we teachers don’t have it that bad, despite frequent media reports to the contrary.
Still, Jenny and I spent a little bit of time talking tonight about why the end of little breaks from school are so hard. To a point, the return of routine is good for both us and the kids. And I certainly can’t pretend that there haven’t been moments over the course of the last two weeks where we haven’t both been ready to give the kids a tent, three sleeping bags, a few bottles of water, a flashlight, and push them out the door for the night (it’s been unseasonably warm, so they’d be fine).
Yet, what we both concluded is that family is a pretty precious thing. We both think back on and talk about the great childhood memories each of us have, and how blessed we are to have them – and then we consider that we’re providing that very thing for our kids, and it’s just an incredible feeling. It’s one that makes the headaches, the restaurant bills (when the kids eat less than half of what is on their stinking plates), the early Christmas morning wake-up calls (3:30 a.m. this year), the family-room movie-watching that goes on until I’m past the point of tiredness at 2 a.m. which sentences me to spend the rest of the night tossing and turning unable to sleep – all worth it.
It breaks my heart for people who don’t have that, and even more so for people who don’t want that:
(click the photo to see the full image)
Most of you who know who Keith is likely aren’t surprised by that remark. To a certain degree I think he says things like this just to be noticed. But I also think there’s a good chance Keith does believe that having a large family like the Romneys is some kind of curse. Now, you can’t be a parent and harbor any delusions here.
We ALL know that what was likely happening five seconds before that Romney family picture was snapped and five seconds after that picture was snapped would provide a much different view of the order and sanity associated with such a litter of children and grandchildren all in the same place, at the same time.
But I pity the man who doesn’t see the blessing in the pitter patter of little feet running down a hallway to the bathroom, the cackle of tiny voices as they run away from the tickle monster, or the sweet yawn accompanied by a small head tucked under your own as you finish that bedtime story even when you know they’ve already fallen asleep.
And then to consider what some of you see – that little one that you used to rock to sleep, now rocking his or her own little one – I can’t imagine the feeling of pride, fulfillment, and joy. I only hope God lets me live long enough to experience it for myself.
There’s probably a little bit of sentimentality that fuels these kinds of thoughts on a late Sunday night after the holidays. But my mind is also drawn to all this because it points to a reality of God’s creative intent that our world so callously rejects. Consider that on Christmas Day, the polling and analysis site FiveThirtyEight put this question out to the masses:
That was their story idea on Christmas. I’d say “unbelievable,” but it really isn’t when you consider where the world places ultimate value. Thankfully, the responses that flooded their request were not at all what they were expecting. But they were heartening, encouraging, and you should read them:
Even in the moral darkness of social media, the light of God’s truth can and will penetrate…on Christmas day, no less.
Life is precious. Family is a blessing. Whether it’s tweeting a response to some backwards website, or cherishing a couple extra minutes in the recliner with your little boy as he rambles on about his exploits on the Nintendo, may we Christians testify to these truths in every corner of creation, every chance we get.
ICYMI
I took last week off from writing, but here’s the final message I preached in 2021. We concluded our year-long study called “This is the Bible” in a big way – the promise of heaven. I think this will fire you up on a Monday, so take a look if you’re interested…
What a truly beautiful post, Peter! With so many couples opting out of even having children today, you captured the blessing of children as the gift God intended them to be. Thank you!
Thank you so much for this, Peter Heck. These accounts of lives and loves saved brought a tear or two to my eyes and heart.
We have eight children, and some have said, "You wouldn't miss them if they're weren't born." I say, but I wouldn't know them if they weren't here. The fact that they are means they were intended to be.
My first was the wake-up-call to a wandering pair of teens, both intelligent, from decent upbringing, and acquainted with and soon to better understand the grace of God. ONE school teacher bothered to tell me that, though a few thought a good student like me getting pregnant and not aborting was a shame and a waste, she thought I did the right thing. I had brought the baby in with me, as I signed up for my last year of classes, so she was looking the truth in the face.