When our daughter, Kathleen, was born in 1963, I was on a ministry exploration trip in Texas in my little ‘61 VW. Before leaving, the doctor assured me that I had at least a month before her birth. Next thing I knew, the doctor called me in Texas and insisted that I get home for her birth. Looked like she was going to be an early bird! I flew home, waited in the hospital hallway until she came, then spent a week with our second child. I flew back to Texas. Next was the 1,200 mile trip back in the Bug. I can tell you that the plane trip was a whole lot faster! (g)

Since that day, I’ve not missed very many of her birthdays. Of course, when she still lived at home, it was pretty easy. I was always a “hands on” Daddy type! (g) Even when she went to college near Chattanooga, TN, I managed to pick her up and spend a few days with her on or near her birthday. Well, this year, I had an open door to sing “Grandma’s Songs” and share with a congregation further up the road. Made a lot of sense to me to spend some time with Kathi (and William and family, of course) and then go sing and share.

We had a lovely time on her birthday. The next day, we exercised our right to make a rather quick decision and headed over to Dollywood. What an incredibly beautiful day. We enjoyed every minute of it.

On Sunday morning, I got to hear William preach at the church he pastors. On Monday morning, I called the church where I was going to sing on Tuesday night. I was informed that the pastor had had a heart attack. The lovely lady on the phone asked if we could reschedule.

This gave me an opportunity to just hang out around the mountains, view the beautiful leaves, spend more time with Kathleen and William. As the week progressed, I decided I would stay around until Saturday. Actually, it involved two churches – the one William pastors and the one his father pastors (the two churches are about 20 miles apart). Our two grandsons had their own table and sold caramel apples, brownies (baked by Kathi), beautiful jars of habanero peppers and hot relish. There was also hot cider, and pinto beans with corn bread and onions. It was quite cold and windy, but it appeared to me that folks from both churches bought each other’s food and junque! (g)

Well, now I’ve told you about the “yard” part of the story. (BTW, I tried to buy the yard at the church, but no one would sell it to me!) Now the “dam” part.

Shortly after I arrived, I was told the story of the local terrorists. Kathleen and William live on top of a mountain way out in the middle of the sticks. I call their home, “The Mansion On The Hilltop”! If there are two places in the state of Georgia that would seem far, far away from the WTC, the Pentagon, and the field in PA, it would be this area. Yet, they relayed a fascinating and, yes, rather scary story to me. About two miles away from their home is a convenience store and gas station at a crossroads. The people who owned/managed it were from another country. Yep, the same country we’re pursuing militarily right now. It seems that the FBI walked into their store one day, arrested them, and shut them down. The charge? That they’d been planning to blow up the dam at Carter’s Lake. (The Lake is incredibly beautiful and I’ve spent quite a bit of time sitting there. Saw a whole herd of turkeys and a red fox over there on this trip.)

Now, blowing up Carter’s Lake may not seem to be a very big deal to you, but Carter’s Lake is the largest person-made lake east of the Mississippi River. It would have taken out electric, phone, roads, houses, and who knows how many people.

I don’t know how our Feds find out about these things. Obviously, we haven’t been real good at finding out about all the possibilities. I’m thankful they caught this one.

What occurred to me is t he contrast between two young grandsons working hard at a church-sponsored yard sale,and, a scant eight miles away, a critical dam sitting as a target for terrorists. What if? I don’t even want to go there. What a contrast, eh? Two young men, working at a church yard sale in a tiny little town. A beautiful lake, enjoyed by many, many people, some of whom depended on the spillway for their electricity. It just seems to me that youngsters shouldn’t have to deal with the situation in which we find ourselves. It’s a long way from the WTC to Carter’s Lake! Or is it?

I enjoy hearing from you. Just use the “Leave a Reply” box below and tell me what YOU think.

– Good piece, Jerry! My first thought is how we should have as much trust in our Heavenly Father as those children do in their earthly parents. I had to pause in the middle of typing that first sentence to check on my two youngest children (3 and 5 years old) who are out on the back deck having a “leaf-ball fight.” Their jubilation over playing in the pile of leaves they gathered is so contagious! I wonder if we give our Father as much joy (and as many headaches!) as our own children give us. It’s worth considering that our children give us the most joy when they trust in us the most and simply rejoice in the environment we provide for them, knowing we will keep them safe. Is there anyone on earth who can teach us more about our loving Father than a child?

– Not too light and frothy at all, and exactly what the doctor ordered. I was at Cost Plus (an import store here) and found the silliest little thing to give to a sick friend: a purple elephant in an orange tutu. It’s just too funny for words and I hope it will make her smile at least, if not laugh out loud. We need to laugh…. I know I do, for sure.

– You made me smile, brother, and I thank you for that. When I have a hard night (and I did tonight) I love to come to my children and see them smile.

– This weeks story reminds me of an old sitcom I loved called “Perfect Strangers.” Two cousins from two different countries, Balkie and Larry, ended up living together, and anytime something good happened, they would do the “Dance Of Joy.” Sometimes it was something SO stupid and silly that would make them do the dance of joy, and I’d laugh so hard; but what the heck. Who says it has to be something outrageous and astounding to do a dance of joy, right?? A dance of joy can give ya joy simply by just doing it. If only we were more child like in that way, maybe we could lift our own spirits more often. As always, your stories give me flickers of memories from the past that I enjoy thinking about!!

– You know how, sometimes, you get to thinking about something from the past and it leads you to some truth of God. Well, it happened to me this morning. I was remembering a little boy in a church we used to pastor and it led me to Mark 10:15, “Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein.” Now I have heard a multitude of sermons preached on this verse of scripture and have even used it a time or two myself. Always the thought has been the faith like a little child angle. This morning as I thought about the little boy it gave me a new insight to this scripture.

     This little boy was 3 years old and was being raised by his grandmother who brought him to church every service. He, sometimes, would want to run the aisles during services and I once picked him up and carried him with me while I preached. One Sunday when we had the penny march, he brought a pint jar full of pennies someone had given him. His grandmother wanted him to just set the jar on the altar but he insisted on putting the pennies in the little church we used. He would put a few in, then dance in joy, then put a few in and dance again. This went on until he had emptied the jar.

     I told them to let him alone that he was doing what we ought to do; giving his offering with a joyful heart. God made me to know, this morning, that little children enter the kingdom just that way—-joyfully—–and we should enter it the same way. It is supposed to be a joyful occasion. AMEN!!!!!!!!!!!!

– Hi! Once again, your story hit home. My immediate thought after reading your story was, “Ah, the innocence of children.” On 9-10-01, we took our granddaughter, age 2 1/2, to the seashore for several days. We were riding bikes on the boardwalk, that Tuesday morning when we heard the devastating news of the bombings. We headed back to our hotel and quickly turned the TV on to learn more about what happened. After about an hour, our granddaughter wanted to go to the beach. As hard as it was, we went through the motions of trying to be upbeat for her sake. We walked to the beach, found a spot, and tried to make the best of it.

     Well, it wasn’t long before our granddaughter began running, laughing, and having fun. Sitting there watching her, I couldn’t help but think of how carefree she was, and for a brief moment envying her. A woman was sitting nearby, and she remarked that she, too, had hear the news, and that she tried to find some solace in watching the ocean. But her comfort was found in watching this little girl having so much fun, squealing with delight at the simplest things. How lucky she was not to know and to be able to understand about the horrendous acts of hate that had just taken place.

     Yes, for a short time, we allowed ourselves to be swept up in our granddaughter’s world – a world where all was safe from harm, where love was in the air. But the time that we allowed ourselves to be caught up in her world was short-lived. It was not long before we were overtaken with feelings of guilt, sorrow, compassion, anger – feelings of the “real” world. I will always remember where I was on that tragic day and my reaction to the devastation – but I will also remember that for a short time, I saw the world, through the eyes of an innocent child – a world that was filled with love and to be in a place that was safe from harm.

Next Inside Out          Gallery              Previous Inside Out