Birds and Rocks...

I logged many hours as a child at Lamplighter, the preschool that nurtured within me a love of people and an independent spirit. My parents both worked, so me and my sister were there from a very young age. I had the rare experience (these days, anyway) of being with friends from the time we were toddlers until the present. I suppose you could judge families for not having a parent stay home with the children, but as for me, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

I remember many things about Lamplighter. The tire fort, the old boat, and the sandbox. At an early age I remember helping the teachers paint ceramic zoo animals, that stayed on the front porch of that old building until just a few years ago. And then there were the field trips. The school owned a white van that it used to transport us to various places. The seats in the van folded down into a flat surface so more kids could fit in, without seat belts, of course. Like many things from my childhood, this would make adults recoil in horror today.

One place that old white van often took us was to the swimming pool at Sportsman's Paradise, a neighborhood on Lake Palestine whose name greatly exaggerates the reality on the ground. On one such trip to this pool, I had an experience that would shape how I viewed God for years to come. I was around four or five.

A friend of mine told everyone that he saw someone give someone else the finger. The children in the van, apparently experts at this type of behavior, responded "NO WAY!" I, on the other hand, had no clue what this meant. So I asked him what "giving someone the finger" meant, and he told me. It is where you point up with your middle finger while all your other fingers stay down in a fist. "Oh, yeah, I knew that."

But I didn't. And I was curious. So I did it. Silently, to myself, I held my hand close to my chest and "shot the bird." I thought I was being inconspicuous until I heard the girl sitting next to me gasp in terror. "Ahhhhmmmm, that's bad!!!" I told her it wasn't bad, it was just holding up a finger. At that moment a small rock flew into the open window and struck me just below my eye. As I grabbed my face in pain the girl leaned in and whispered in my ear, "I guess that is God punishing you."

And that is how I came to live much of my life in fear of a vengeful God waiting around the corner for me to do something bad.

But the same preschool where this happened was the same place that drug us to all those Vacation Bible Schools throughout the summers. It was here that we learned to value Scripture. This made it possible that I would someday read the words from 1 John... "There is no fear in love, but perfect love drives out fear."

I suppose as a minister, this is my job, to help people find this perfect love that drives out fear. If you get to know me, maybe you will see it. As your friend, I've also been known to raise a finger or two...