My Son is a ball of energy. The apple does not fall far from the tree, I’ve been described as energetic (or spastic ) and I’m known for my inability to stand still at the pulpit (I walk around on the stage). If you tied up my hands I’d probably fall mute or at least bruise my shoulders trying to gesture. My son is so much like me that I’ve noted more than once that he can’t stand still long enough to tie his own shoes.
It is a thrill and a privilege to have a son who is like me and what’s more who wants to be like me. On my wall I’ve got a picture hanging that looks almost something like a church and a pulpit with a great blurry blob behind the pulpit.
“What’s this?” I queried my son when he gave it to me. I expected him to roll his eyes and tell me I was the blob.
“It’s me,” he responded, “being a preacher just like you.”
Grown men aren’t supposed to cry, so they say.
The other day when I unwrapped my new Bible he asked me what I was going to do with my old Bible and before I could open my mouth he started bouncing and pleaded, “Can I have your old Bible Dad?”
I had honestly been planning on sending it to Love Packages so someone who doesn’t have a bible could benefit from it. I had been considering using it for a rebinding project as I teach myself to rebind Bibles. I’m already in the throes of trying to copy some of the more useful
handwritten chicken scratched notes into my new Bible (that’s an adventure I assure you.) Despite all of this, in that golden moment I realized that I heard my son ask the one question that I would have hoped he’d ask. “Can I have your old Bible dad?”
So I looked at my seven year old son as he bounced on the balls of his feet and said, “Yes.”
“Cool!” he shouted at the top of his lungs and tore off to his room to play with Lego’s.
“What are you going to do with it?” I shouted behind him.
“Read it, because it’s yours!” was his innocent reply.
I think my heart just stopped.