FAITHFUL LIVING: Value time spent with God's gifts — our children

It was a case of pure discrimination and I could not have been more pleased. It all began with an announcement from my son, who had been out in the garage helping Dad scrape old paint off the front end pieces of our ‘66 Mustang coupe, being prepped for a paint job. He claimed he had come in for a drink but he was filled with such energy I knew there was something more to be revealed.

“We’re goin’ fishing. I’m not trying to be rude or anything — but you’re not invited!”

“That’s not fair!” I countered, using a playful tone I knew he’d be able to detect. “I like to fish too. Besides, I’m the one who bought you that tackle box in the first place!”

As Daniel stood there in our kitchen, holding his youth-sized fishing pole in one hand and a pint-sized tackle box in the other, I felt a rush of pure joy — the kind that brings warmth to your face, moves down to your hands, and fills your heart. It was the kind of moment that always serves to remind me that children really are a gift from God.

As Daniel bounded back to the garage I was left with a déjà vu feeling. Then it dawned on me that 10 short years ago this same scene had played out in my mind as I lay on an obstetrician’s examination table for an ultrasound.

Both the doctor and I had turned to look at the black and white screen when she suddenly remarked, “Oh my!”

“Is something wrong?” I had asked, almost not wanting to know the answer. After all, I was just weeks away from delivering a much-anticipated baby girl we had named Melanie Rose months earlier.

“Pull out your baby name book. Your baby girl is really a HE!” she said with a look of complete amazement. “We were sure wrong about this one!”

I headed directly to the hardware store and that evening my husband learned about his fishing buddy when he unwrapped the same little tackle box that was about to be used.

So the men fished. They camped in Cabin No. 12, snacked on Nestle Crunch bars, and paddled in big circles on a lake with a beaver dam on one end. That night they rolled out their sleeping bags and did not even look at their back-up dinner of macaroni and cheese with cut-up hotdogs — for they ate fresh trout and fried potatoes, instead.

Not to be outdone, my two daughters and I planned our own girls-only outing. We turned our heads over to a trusted friend who trimmed and highlighted until she created just the right look for each of us. We ordered pizza, talked hair and clothes and nails, and simply enjoyed being girls.

My husband and I are learning the incredible value of special activities spent with each of our children. Official getaways are far and few between these days as the girls are busy teenagers and our son an increasingly independent young man. And yet when I see a need for some one-on-one time with my kids and keep that goal in the back of my mind, the opportunities will present themselves in many impromptu occasions. A run to the store then a dive into a video rental store or coffee shop for a treat before heading home works with one child in tow. There are fewer interruptions, distractions and group compromises to be made. Words can be expressed with less chance of embarrassment. Private thoughts can be shared. Good laughs enjoyed. And if need be, some new goals set, expectations outlined, boundaries redrawn.

These outings can be simple or elaborate, cheap or costly. Grab a burger and head to the beach. Take a hike. Go check out the latest CDs, go hang on the monkey bars at a playground, kick a soccer ball around a field. Take in a concert or head to a mall. Visit a museum. Go get a manicure. Order two smoothie flavors and trade when you have reached the halfway point. Set up a tent in the backyard and unroll your sleeping bags. Plant a garden together. Walk the dog. Ride bikes together. Then talk and talk and talk.

So grab a kid for some special one-on-one time. The days are long and surely your schedules have lightened up now that summer has arrived. Ignore for one night that house trim that needs to be painted. Slow down and place into motion all those good intentions, for God has a word for us today: Make special time for your children.

Contact freelance writer Joan Bay Klope at jbklope@hotmail.com

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