A STREET BY ANY OTHER NAME
Have you ever had a paper route? Kids with paper routes have a reputation for being hardworking, initiative-taking types, just like our Graham. Graham's persistence is well-documented. When he wants something he is like a pit-bull on steroids with a serious caffeine addiction. So, when he decided that he wanted to deliver the community paper/flyers twice a week, we knew that the writing was on the wall (or is that the paper was on the porch), so to speak. Still, we thought that might actually work out to be a responsibility-building influence in our just turned thirteen-year old's life.
Since Graham is the first of our boys to enter the "media-trade" we, as parents, were somewhat unprepared for the full extent of our involvement. I mean, we saw the potential and we gave the "This is your job and we aren't going to do it for you" speech. Unfortunately, the "this is your job" speech was as effective as the ill-fated puppy speech that parents have uttered for millennia - you know, the "This is your dog. You will have to feed and walk and clean up after it" speech. Parents with kids with paper routes (btw this is the name of a new support group I have just launched) are to be pitied.
Don't get me wrong. Graham works hard. He has to sort and stack all his papers and that takes time, but his street is a bit too far away to take his bundle buggy, especially when he would have to make two trips. Thus, we determined that it was necessary to drive Graham to the beginning point of his route. Somehow, this initial act of grace and mercy has snowballed into me delivering on one side of the street while Graham does the other. I have now fooled myself into thinking that this is spending some "quality" time with my son. It may be denial, but it makes the task a bit easier.
I remember the good old days when I used to look at my buddy, Jim Dewar, back in Charlottetown and think, "Man, this guy is whipped!" He often got up at 5:30 in the morning to drive his girls around to deliver their papers. "What a sucker," I thought! I now know that he had no choice in the matter. It was predetermined by God himself. There is no escape for parents of paper people.
Now, I tell you all this just to point out one observation I've had while delivering the papers. The street on which we deliver has always been one of my favorite streets in our area. It meanders nicely. It has a large variety of houses on it and it basically looks like a perfect, well-maintained idyllic family-friendly oasis. The houses are larger than on our street. They have more property than on our street. There is less traffic than on our street. What more could one ask for?
What I have found, now that I have looked at it from the somewhat more personal perspective of a paper pop, is this: the houses, once you get up to them, aren't half as well-maintained as I first thought. Most every house on that street is in need of work, some more than others. But still, there wasn't a perfect house on the entire street. The houses and properties appear to be so much better than our street, but you know what? They aren't. They arguably have the edge on a better location and a few more square feet, but they aren't the ideal domiciles I thought they were.
Which leads me to my point. It doesn't matter who one is, everyone's house is in need of repair. Things break. Things wear out. Things need attention, even with new homes. This is true whether you are living in a structure that is modest or magnificent.
Our lives are like that, as well. We are all broken. We are all in need of maintenance and repair whether we are talking about our physical bodies, our relationships, or our faith in Christ. Our lives are an ongoing work that requires daily attention and effort unless we are only interested in looking good from the road! The question I leave with you is this: What area(s) of life maintenance have you ignored lately?
There are lots of other applications to be mined from this piece but I'll leave that to you. If you would like to comment on this Whatcha, just click on my name at the bottom of this page and e-mail me. I promise to write back.
