April 22 – “The trip”

 

 

So what does a "typical day" look like at your house?  Is it boring? Never a dull moment?  Unexpected treasures?  Nothing to talk about?  None of the above?

 

As I ponder the depths of that question I realize that at the Vaughan house the only possible answer is "All of the above."  Some days we are entertained by the presence of Cailyn.  She can take us on trips without ever leaving the comfort of "her" bedroom.  In fact the bed is the car.  The most recent journey was to the grocery store to pick up a few items on a list she made herself.  And which only she could read, I might add.  "Milk and chicken and chicken fingers" was the last one.  And the cost of the milk was three dollars, which she just happened to have exact change for in her purse.  When we arrived at the store I asked if we needed a shopping basket.  And I was overjoyed when she agreed.  See I wanted to ride in the basket, so I pretended to crawl in, sprawled on my back and with the best flourish I could muster, said, "Whee.  Let's go shopping."  She wasn't amused.  Well, actually she was amused, but in the same way a parent might be amused at the silly antics of a precocious child when the antics are simply not acceptable for the time or place.  She clucked her tongue, shook her finger at me, and said, "No, no, DadDad.  You're just too big for the basket.  You have to walk by the side and keep you hand on the basket, OK?"  Sadly, I agreed, and climbed out.  It was a bit more difficult to climb out of an imaginary basket than it was to get into one, however.  She had to help me when my foot got stuck.  The crisis was but a brief one, though, and the shopping continued.  She certainly seemed to know her way around WalMart.  Of course that's where we were.  No typical day in Galveston can pass without some excuse for a trip to WalMart.  Of course she had big plans for stopping by Target as well.  And Kroger's.  Can't spend all our money in one place, you know.  Fortunately the front door creaked open before we had to complete our rounds.  That's like the final bell in a boxing match.  Everything stops and we run to the front door to see who it is.  And the real presence of Mommy usually trumps the pretend WalMart greeter any day.  I think there's a sermon illustration in there somewhere. 

 

1 Peter 5:1-4 says, "To the elders among you, I appeal as a fellow elder, a witness of Christ's sufferings and one who also will share in the glory to be revealed: Be shepherds of God's flock that is under your care, serving as overseers — not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not greedy for money, but eager to serve; not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock. And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away."

 

Father, thank you for the unusual usual days you give us here.  Amen.