He's 92

I am up early with some "Georgia on my mind." I just spent a few hours with dad. He's 92. I keep saying that like I just can't believe it. When mother died at age 50 I just never thought of dad living for almost another half century-he might make it! Compared to mom he has lived two lifetimes. Why does one person get one and another get two? But, most of the stories he tells are from the first lifetime. Like the time he worked 176 hours in two weeks at the post office, a record, and made more than the post master. It was a badge of honor. Or, the story about coming to Georgia from Kentucky when he was 16 with a box of chicken and $3 in his pocket, and today being a proud landowner with three times more money in the bank than he paid for the land. He wears these stories like badges of honor. And, as we stood on his rickity back porch he was planning how he was going to make some repairs as soon as the weather warmed up.

The word "work" was drilled into me as a child. It was what we did. I know it can be done for the wrong reasons, i.e. to try to earn your way to heaven, but it is not a dirty word. Jesus did not commend the lazy servant who would not invest his master's money. He cast him out. It seems to me that one reason we have so many casual Christians is because being captive is a lot of work. There may be long two week shifts where you sleep on the postal sacks for a couple of hours and get up and go back to work. There may be times when you are called on to turn a box of chicken and $3 into 40 acres and a batch of memories. Captives do not know how many lifetimes they have. But, they work while they are here and then go home to their rest. Thanks dad for the example.