Pancakes!

I went to lunch the other day at a local diner. Shortly after I ordered my food, a boy, about nine or ten years old was seated near me with his mother and grandmother. He picked up the menu and announced, “I want pancakes!”

“We came here for shakes, not pancakes,” his mother said from behind her menu.

“I want pancakes! I want pancakes!” This kid had whining down to an art. His voice pierced through the air and made me cringe and grit my teeth.

“No. If you are going to have food, I don’t want you to have all that sugar.” What? They came for shakes, but she didn’t want him to have sugar?

“I’m going to have pancakes! I want pancakes! I want pancakes! I WANT PANCAKES!” He really seemed to believe that if he asked frequent enough and loud enough his mother would relent and let him have the PANCAKES! he so desired.

“Stop it! Stop! You aren’t having pancakes,” the harried mother hissed. The boy leaned across the table and yelled in her face . . . You guessed it, “I WANT PANCAKES!” I couldn’t help but think about what would have happened if I had ever dared to try that with my mom. There would have been no pancakes. There would have been no shake and probably no dinner. I may even have had to wait in the car while everyone else ate their lunch.

The waiter returned at the end of this tirade. After some conversation, the mother convinced the boy to get a root beer float, since they didn’t have an Oreo cookie shake. About this time, I finished my lunch, paid for my food and headed back to work, grateful to leave.

I really felt bad for that mother. Her son caused such a scene in the restaurant and it was very obvious that she was embarrassed. I can’t imagine, though, that this was an unusual occurrence. I wonder how many times he had done this very thing in other places. I also wonder how often it gets him what he wants.

Can you imagine how this same kid will be in, oh, say, six or seven years?
“I want this car. Mom, buy me that Mustang! I want that car! GIVE ME THAT CAR!”

How about in 15 years . . .
“I want a raise! I deserve a raise! I want more money! Give me a raise!”

He’s in for a rude awakening, and if it doesn’t come from his mom in the very near future, it will be very painful when he gets out into the world and discovers that whining doesn‘t get you whatever you want. For his sake, I hope it happens sooner rather than later.


He who ignores discipline comes to poverty and shame, but whoever heeds correction is honored.

Waves

Overwhelmed
Waves wash over me
One after another
Sand shifting beneath my feet
I stumble backwards
Regain my balance
Start forward again
Another wave
The tide gains strength
The waves grow higher
But I’m getting stronger, too
Learning what to expect
Brace myself for impact
When to stand firm
When to relax
And let myself be carried
By the currents of the sea
To places I don’t know
Unfamiliar lands
That I’d never have
A chance to see
If I’d fought each wave
And tried to stay
Where maybe I’m not
Meant to be

An Unwanted Visitor

The flu settled into our home for an extended stay last week. I’ve tried and tried to get him to leave, but like all unwanted guests, he would not budge. It’s been several years since the flu has come to see us and this was quite a visit. I haven’t been so sick in a long, long time. Luckily the children have been mostly immune to his presence. The adults, however, have not been so lucky. We all feel quite beat up and miserable. It seems that our unwanted guests is finally thinking about leaving, though. We’ll all be very glad when all remnants of him have gone. The sooner the better.

It Only Takes a Moment

I came home from a Super Bowl party Sunday evening to a voice mail message from my mom. She said that she and Dad had been in a car accident earlier that evening. The car was totaled and Dad was in the hospital. I immediately called Mom’s cell, but it went straight to voicemail. My sister was the next person I called. She had also just gotten home and hadn’t heard anything yet. She called one family member and I called another trying to get some kind of information about what was going on. It took about 20 minutes and about 10 phone calls, but we eventually got the story. Mom made it through with only bruises from the seat belt, but Dad had several cracked ribs and his scapula (shoulder blade) was broken in two places.

An event like this makes me even more contemplative than usual. It’s so strange to find out that while I was having a good time at a party, people that I love were experiencing something horrendous. Somehow it seems that we should just be able to know or sense when something like that happens to those we care about.

It seems incomprehensible to me that we can be going about our lives with our dreams and plans and in one moment everything changes. A plane crash, a heart attack or a car accident alters forever the course of a life, a family, a nation. These things happen all the time to people all over the world but it doesn’t really mean that much until it happens to you.

The only thing that keeps me sane and gives me hope in the seeming randomness and chaos of it all is my faith that there is a plan and it isn’t all random.

As I said earlier, this kind of thing makes me even more contemplative than normal.

My dad is ok, and life hasn’t been altered too much this time, but I know that it’s only because he was protected. If he had driven through that intersection just a moment earlier. If that car on the freeway hadn’t cut him off, causing him to slow down just a bit. If he’d driven just a little faster, the outcome could have much different. I’m just very thankful that it wasn’t.


For God guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones.