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A Precious Day
By
Keith Hoffman
Yesterday
was the start of “Indian Summer” where we live in Michigan, with temperatures
25-30 degrees warmer than the past week or two. When summer is spent, and
frosty mornings remind me of the encroaching winter, I treasure these warm,
balmy days. I scheduled Tuesday to tackle a few major repair jobs on our
house. The front window in our living room is in very bad shape, and the new
one I had ordered was on our floor, ready for installation. I wolfed down my
breakfast, excused myself from the table, and began prep work on the new unit.
As I inspected it, I felt a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. While
the two operating windows were fine, I noticed exposed pine at each corner of
the two fixed windows. The rain guard weather-stripping had been cut too
short, and the assembly operation had been similarly botched. The seals that
were designed to keep rain out were twisted, and calking was profusely applied
everywhere but the intended locations. Gaps of bright pine shone out from deep
recesses between the aluminum cladding. It was easy to see that rain would run
down the windows, behind the lower seals, and soak into the raw pine behind
them.
After
spending most of the morning on the phone with Lowe’s and Pella, and
discovering that it would take two weeks to have a factory technician try to
repair the defective window, I decided to return the defective unit to the
store that afternoon, after friends were available to help me hoist it onto my
truck. By the time this decision was made, it was very late in the morning. We
ate an early lunch, and I stewed at the table, realizing that nearly half of
this precious summer-like day was already spent. While the rest of my family
tried to make pleasant conversation, I simmered in my frustration and worked
on formulating “Plan B.”
With the
morning spent, and frenzied to salvage at least some portion of the day, I
decided to finish our half-bath. Although it was inside work, I would still be
happy if I completed that project. Nearly 25 years of heavy use had taken its
toll, and I was in the process of replacing the bathroom countertop and
fixtures. The countertop was all set for new laminate, and we had just ordered
the material last Saturday. The salesman had told us that our order would be
in on Tuesday morning, so Libby drove out to pick it up while I worked on
touching up some woodwork with paint. My concentration was broken when my son
told me that she was on the phone. She related that the store somehow never
placed the order – the bathroom project would have to wait.
My mind
blurred as hopes to fill the day with meaningful progress evaporated. My only
consolation was that, at least, I would get the defective window out of the
house and its replacement ordered. That would be an accomplishment, albeit
small. I spent the remaining afternoon working on frivolous little jobs,
waiting until the time when reinforcements would come and help load the
window. Meanwhile, Libby went on from the decorating store to work on her home
school lesson plans at a library. As the anticipated hour approached, I
remembered that I would need the receipt to return the window. Not wishing to
waste one moment after the unit was loaded on our truck,
I went to retrieve it from our files. Not finding it, I suddenly realized
that Libby had recently used the same receipt to return another item, and it
was not in the drawer. Owing to the item’s value and the resistance that I
anticipated in returning a special order item, I did not wish to face that
challenge with anything less than perfect documentation. I sent the eager
helpers home when they arrived. I can not express the frustration and regret I
felt, knowing that I had failed to make good use of a one of the last precious
fleeting days of summer.
This
morning, I met with a group of men to enjoy a weekly time of fellowship, Bible
study, and prayer. I shared the frustrations of my Tuesday, and I was soon
laughing with the others as we released our various stories. We also recounted
the challenges of coming home beat, only to be overwhelmed by a sea of demands
for attention by our spouse and children. One of the men, with somewhat older
children, related how they don’t need us so much as they grow older.
As he spoke,
I was overwhelmed by the awareness that autumn is rapidly approaching in my
household. My children are ages 16, 15, 14, and 10. Replacing a faulty window
before winter and making good use of summer-like days is prudent, but it pales
to the importance of building relationships with my wife and children, and
modeling Christ before them. Like the fleeting days of summer in October, so
too are the precious remaining days that my children will live in my
household.
I was
dismayed in my failure to make good use of a rare summer-like day in autumn,
but I failed in a far greater way to make good use of the precious day with my
children. I failed to model how a Christian handles changing circumstances,
disrupted plans, frustration, and disappointment. It is one thing to tell them
what they should do, but it is quite another to show them what we do. Also,
due to my preoccupation with making good use of a warm day, I failed to hear
anything my family told me the entire day. I ran roughshod over the excitement
of a 10 year old boy wanting to share the important things in his life with
his Dad. Three teenagers saw a window garner my full, undivided emotional
involvement, while they sometimes struggle to be a mere blip on my radar
screen. My wife struggled to keep peace in our home, instead of me protecting
her.
Another warm
day will come – if not this year, then certainly next summer, when they will
be so abundant as to cease to be precious. The summertime of living with my
children in my home, however, only comes once. How precious and few are the
days.
I hope your
fall is off to a good start. I encourage you to make good use of the remaining
“summer days” in your household.
“Sons are a heritage from the
LORD,
children
a reward from him” (Psalms 127:3, NIV).
“Children's children are a
crown to the aged,
and
parents are the pride of their children” (Proverbs 17:6, NIV).
Copyright ©
2003 by Keith Hoffman
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