As summer rolled around each year, I had several things to look forward to. I would have a ridiculous amount of time on my hands, maybe take a short trip or two, and there would be at least one Vacation Bible School (VBS) to attend.
I had a plan for some of that free time, part of which included sleeping a healthy portion of the morning away. My father had an entirely different plan. His version of a summer day well spent meant rising with the sun to explore the endless possibilities the day might hold.
I obviously lacked the creativity of my dad's generation because by mid-morning I had made my daily rounds with my dog, eaten a five-gallon bucket of Frosted Flakes and watched Captain Kangaroo on our black and white television. Obviously, I was exhausted and in desperate need of a nap until lunch.
Seeing this pattern caused my dad a high degree of consternation, and where there was consternation, there always followed a conversation. This is when I would hear stories of the good 'ole days when kids walked twelve miles to school barefooted, traveling over broken glass, burning coals and the occasional rattlesnake just to get to school.
There, they were greeted by a teacher who brandished a leather whip better than a cowboy from the old west. After a long day at school, my dad would jog home in anticipation of heading to the fields with a biscuit and a handful of cold grits that had been carefully cradled to hold a small drizzling of molasses.
By the time my dad's tales had him scurrying to bed so that he could rise at 4 a.m. to milk cows, I was really exhausted. Plus, I had nothing to follow all of that with. My school was a block away and I still wore shoes. I had no field to plow and not a single cow, but I did once attempt to milk my cat, but that was a painful failure for both of us.
My best option for busyness and fun often turned out to be VBS. I learned about Jesus, built all manner of crafts, ate everything in sight and faced a challenge or two.
VBS gave me incentive to succeed, much like the stories of my father. He was working to succeed at the finer art of survival, while I was working to obtain the coveted Bible with a red cover and perhaps to impress a cute redhead who was always nearby with a glorious twinkle in her eye.
All I had to do was memorize the words of Jesus, written appropriately in red, called the beatitudes, and the red Bible was mine. I had a week to get the job done. I pictured my dad crossing the canyons of South Georgia to get home from school and then eating those nasty grits as a source of inspiration. Okay, I may have thought about the previously-mentioned redhead, but that's not the point.
By the time the week was up, I came out of my room prepared, looking like John the Baptist after a tasty snack of locusts. I recited those beatitudes as if my life depended on it, when only my pride was at stake. It was all worth it when I found myself holding the famed red Bible. I had plowed my field and milked my cow all in one biblical recitation. I was sure that my dad and that redhead were proud of me.
The beatitudes are lengthy and memorizing them took some doing. But, given the right incentive, I was up to the task. Today, I am fearful that incentive to do meaningful things is being lost on a generation that sees mostly turmoil and strife. Some are seeing violence as a tool for achieving vague goals that may do more harm than good.
There's a lot I don't know, but I'm certain that incentive is needed for a generation to rise to its potential. However, that success isn't found in being on the right side of politics, but in living those words I burned into my brain from the beatitudes. Also, remembering that God started all that we know and He will also finish it is an important truth to hold on to. We need Him now more than ever.
We will have accomplished much if we take our incentive from His words and follow them. Here's a sample of His sayings that are still worthy of memorization: "Blessed are the poor in spirit" (who are not arrogant or puffed up). "Blessed are those who mourn " (over their sin and repent, because they will be comforted). "Blessed are the gentle" ( it is the kind-hearted who inherit the earth). "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness (they are made right with God and are satisfied).
Should you find the beatitudes in the fifth chapter of Matthew worthy of remembrance, let me hear them because I have a red Bible with your name on it. As for a red-headed cutie, you're on your own.