My childhood was WAY different than my son’s. Not the “uphill both ways, cash-only dinosaurs” different … the West Virginia hills different. Mom and Dad would plan, scrape, save, beg, borrow, and — well, not steal — to get us to where the good ole U.S. ended and the Atlantic began every other year or so. Five or six days. Those trips were AWESOME.

We also spent a LOT of time in campgrounds, and even more in the backyard inventing things to do.

My son grew up close to some of the best theme parks in the world. And some of the best memories we have are still him catching a “mamma fish” from a canoe in a state park 10 miles from home … standing by the lake or trick-or-treating in the neighborhood.

Last night we walked lil’bit by the water. He was fascinated with an ant hill. Toni made sure he stayed clear of it and still let him investigate.

We never know what will matter later. All we can do is supply the love, time, and effort, and then let God fill in the stories. A pile of ants. A huge roller coaster. A salty beach. A jar of oil that didn’t run out. A scripture on a doorpost. Even a workbench in a little shop in Nazareth.

Just a thought from a guy that tries to save up for the “big things” with his family … and still stops to look at the ants when a three-year-old says they’re the show.

Bible Verses

Deuteronomy 6 / 1 Kings 17:8-16

Questions

What does your family still talk about — the big trip, or the 20-minute walk?