December 10, 2010

  • Pick up sticks

    On Tuesday, Christian had an early release day, and usually we go to the park and play frisbee golf.  Tuesday was no different, and his mom even packed his discs so we could head straight there.  It was cold outside, but I didn't think it would be too bad.  The wind wasn't blowing too hard, or so I thought, but we stopped at a gas station for a couple of snacks beforehand.  It's always fun to watch Christian pick out what he wants.  I feel like he has no idea how much money on what he chooses, so I usually try to instill in him some sort of value to the things he's buying.  He picked out a 24 oz. Gatorate, and I showed him the sign on the door that said "2 20 oz. Gatorades for $2."  He didn't know where to find the "oz." on the label, so I showed him.  I found the 20 oz. drinks, and we both grabbed one.  I bought some overpriced beef jerk, but I considered it lunch, so I didn't let it get to me as much as I normally would.  I bought our snacks and after pumping some gas, we headed to the park. 

    I love that Christian gets excited about going to the park.  Like most kids, he loves the computer and video games, but it's nice for me to be able to enjoy being outside without feeling like I'm forcing him to come with me.  As we got out of the car, I noticed that my disc had been lying a little bent in between some books that were in my back seat.  I was a little bummed knowing that would affect how well it flew, but with it being as cold as it was, I knew my score wasn't going to be great anyway.  We played a few holes, but with the wind picking up, the cold just felt relentless.  I kept asking Christian if he was ok, and he said he was, but when he finally said, "I think I'm just going to watch on the rest of them," I knew our game was done.  I wasn't at all let down.  My disc was bent.  The wind was strong.  It was cold.  But, since we were at the park anyway, I figured we might as well walk around a little bit.  I'd not been down to the lake yet, and Christian seemed like he wanted to go, so we did. 

    Along the way, I noticed that Christian kept picking up sticks to use as walking sticks.  The funny thing about it was, when he found a better one, he would still try to carry the ones he'd already picked up.  I paused one time to observe him with two sticks in one arm and a Gatorade in the other trying to break a small branch off of yet another stick with his feet.  After a few tries, he said, "I'm just going to drop everything," which he did, only to pick it all up again when he'd got the most recent stick like he wanted.  His antics were funny, but it was funny because I remember being that 10 year old boy and looking for a walking stick.  What is it about boys that we want to have a stick in our hand?  We're strong enough to walk without it, and having a stick just occupies one hand, so what's the point?  I don't know, but just being aware of that commonality was amusing in itself.  I led part of the way there, but I let him led after a little bit.  He didn't know where he was going, but I felt like it would be good to give him the responsibility of leading.  During our walk, he told me about how his parents wouldn't let him come to the new warehouse because it was "too dangerous."  I'm not really sure how much danger he would be in, but he acts like a stubborn 10 year old boy at times, and messing up in a warehouse wouldn't be good.  However, there's not alot of ways to "mess up" on a nature trail, so I let him have at it. 

    We finally made it down to the lake, and it was pretty...serene...quiet.  Christian began literally probing the edges of the bank with the only stick that had made the cut til this point.  He would just jam the stick into the mud or grass and twist it, yanking the stick out after some effort to see what happened.  To be honest, that's all he did for a good half an hour.  He was perfectly content, and I was perfectly content watching him.  It seemed to me like he thought he was being industrious, and I thought again to when I was a kid.  I thought building a tree house, or setting things on fire, or throwing mud balls was industrious.  It reminds me of a quote by C. S. Lewis.  As Christian stood there poking at the mud, I thought about all the things that make boys and men feel industrious.  When we are small, it's playing the in mud, building something up, or tearing something down.  When we are young, it's video games, comic books, and maybe a little later it's sports or girls.  When we are older, it's a job, a career, or a drink.  All the things that keep us feeling "industrious" when "infinite joy" is offered to us and to others.

    I let myself meander through those thoughts for a while as Christian played, and then I just stopped and took in the nature around me.  I felt like God and I had had a little moment because it was beautiful.  Being at my grandparents' ranch always reminds me to slow down, and this was no different.  It was good just to be out, and I needed that time "alone." After a while at the lake, Christian and I started heading back.  We eventually made it back to the car and headed home. 

    I enjoyed our little adventure.  It's getting colder every day, so being outside is less and less of an option, but I do need to remember to slow down and center myself in Him.  Good times.

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