RECALLING THE OLD THINGS

IT POPPED INTO MY HEAD

yesterday for the first time in years. So I greeted my son who lives in Savannah, Georgia, on our cellphones with a song we used to sing every Sunday morning as we began our worship service in Dublin, California. And by the time I was done singing, it was hard to stop laughing, there was such joy in the recalling.

THE FIRST YEAR

in California was tough for all of us, especially for this new pastor’s kids.

Steve was a 6th-grader in our church-sponsored two-year-old Valley Christian School.

Since there were no grades in our church school beyond the 6th at the time, our daughter, Michele, an 8th-grader who had left behind a beloved school only minutes from her home in Kirkland, Washington, now took a school bus ride lasting almost an hour each way to a public middle school in Danville.

The entire experience was so distasteful and traumatic we eventually withdrew her from the school and enrolled her in what would be her third 8th grade class, this in Fremont Christian School, a 40-minute to an hour drive each way twice a day depending on traffic, still too long, but made more pleasant being driven by one of her parents.

One day Steve came to my office and poured out his disappointment at being in our church school. He hated it. One boy in particular had been taunting and bullying him because he was the pastor’s kid. For the previous seven years of my ministry I had worked with high school and college students and Steve had easily found his ‘happy place’ among all those accepting youth. This was different. This was new territory. He wasn’t sure how to respond, especially since he was the pastor’s kid.

We talked for awhile about all that was changing. Then I said if he wanted to, the next time bullying happened he had my permission to ‘wade in’ and fight back. He looked at me, amazed. Really, I can do that? I said, yes, you have my permission. And once you start, don’t stop until someone pulls you off. But understand there will be a cost. You will likely be suspended, maybe even expelled from our church school for fighting, so be sure this is worth it to you. Whatever you decide, I’ve got your back.

Like I said, it was a tough year for all of us. The congregation was small, still trying to decide if they’d done the right thing by calling this young pastor and his family to be their spiritual shepherd. We were wondering, too.

AND SO WE SANG

what may seem hokey to you today … and it probably was … but it was all we had going for us back then. Except this. Something every parent needs to recall. Your spouse has some say in the who, what, where and when of your lives. A choice. The kids? They’re along for the ride. They don’t get to choose. But our two kids joined their mom and dad in singing. The words were positive. Hopeful. It seemed like the right thing to do, so we did. Every Sunday morning.

“Something good is going to happen to you,

Happen to you this very day.

Something good is going to happen to you,

Jesus of Nazareth is passing your way.”

WERE WE HAVING FUN YET?

Yes, there were moments when we had great fun. But there were for us, and are in every family’s experience, the moments when everyone pays a price … even the children … sometimes especially the children for what their parents believe to be God’s will. I said “yes” to God’s call to vocational ministry when I was 16, with no wife or children in view. I thought I knew who I was and where I was going and what I would be doing and the truth … I really didn’t know anything.

Years later, I discovered there were a lot of people just like me, who didn’t know who they were or where they were going or what they were going to do. Not really. And they needed a spiritual shepherd. So we grew together. I managed to stay just far enough ahead of the others to be the leader. And we kept singing.

“Something good is going to happen to you …

Jesus of Nazareth is passing your way.”

AND IT DID

because he did. Jesus of Nazareth passed our way.

So yesterday, a daughter who recalls having spent her toughest year to that point in three 8th grades, and a son who discovered his dad had his back no matter what happened in grade 6 and figured out on his own a better way, sang an old song … recalling old things … joining in laughter with Jesus, recalling a moment he had shared with us, too.

YOU SHOULD TRY THIS.

Recalling is like rummaging in the attic of your soul for things long forgotten. Old things. When you find them, you’ll know. Dust them off, polish them up a bit if need be, bring them out into the light again. Recall how amazing it was when Jesus of Nazareth passed your way … and sing to someone your new old song.

“Remember the former things of old; for I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me.”[1]

May Jesus keep us close.

[1] Isaiah 46:9