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Where Are You?

I recently attended a writers’ conference where one of the speakers, Frank Ball, told about playing Hide and Seek with his little granddaughter.  My mind drifted back to the early nineties when our little granddaughter Lyndel would stay with us.  She was a little brown eyed beauty who was constantly giggling.  She was a happy little girl and brought great joy to her grandmother and me.  She had captivated our hearts.  When I would put her to bed we would play a game before prayers.  She would cover her eyes and I would say, “Where’s Buddy” (that would be me) “Lyndel can’t see Buddy!  Where’s Buddy?”  She would just giggle and her curly little blonde hair would just shake from laughing so hard. Then she would quickly pull her hands off her eyes and I would say, “Here’s Buddy!  There’s Lyndel!  She couldn’t see Buddy!”  Her soft little eyes would light up so bright and just as quickly as she pulled her hands off she would cover her eyes again and the game would start anew.   She thought because she could not see me I could not see her.  This would go on for some time before Buddy had enough.

That was nearly twenty-one years ago but the memories of Lyndel and me playing that game bring back such warm memories.  I can look back on my sixty-four plus years in this soup called life and recall that during the painful times of rebellion and foolishness I could not see our heavenly Father …but He always saw me.  In fact, His eye has never been off me.  He even told me in His Word to call Him Abba, which translated means Daddy. * That is how close He wanted to be with me…why, I do not know, as flawed as I am.

I will bet there have been times in your life as well when you thought Father was in another universe and did not care one iota about you.  But Daddy wants that same close relationship with all of His flawed children.  The list of people goes way back.  We are not alone.  All of us, from Adam, to Moses, to Elijah, to David, to Solomon, all the prophets, to the disciples have cried at one time or another, “Daddy, where are You?”  Even Daddy’s Son called out to Him during a night of great anguish, “Daddy, are You there?” As Lyndel grew older she began to realize that I was there all the time, watching over her, as she was slipping peacefully into slumber land.  She could rest assured all was well.

As I stumble and fall in this daily walk in the faith, like Lyndel, as I grow, I also realize how Daddy is constantly watching over me even when I cannot see Him.  Sometimes I will complain, “Daddy, where are You?  I need You right now!”  I demand.  I get loud.  “Can’t You see what I am going through?  Where are you Daddy?”  I usually say this after making some bone-headed stupid choice and got myself into a real pickle.  But not all silence from Daddy is from a poor choice we made.   Let’s be honest, okay.  We are real folks here.  All of us in the faith have questioned God from time to time, haven’t we?

Daddy, are You there?”

“Hey Daddy, what is going on here, huh?”

“Why don’t You answer me Daddy?  Why are You angry at me?”

“What did I do to deserve this, Daddy?”

Then one day it all made sense.  It seemed like Daddy came over, put me in His lap and gently yet firmly whispered, “My dear child, I am not so much interested in your comfort as I am in building your character.  You see, if I rescued you every time you called, or in most cases complained, (that hurt!) then you would never grow, you would be so shallow.  You would not know what a good day is unless you had a few days where everything fell apart.  You would never know the joy of victory unless I allowed you to suffer defeat.  You would never see Me in the simple things of life if I gave you every whim you wanted.  Unless you were sick you would not appreciate the blessings of good health.”  It was beginning to sink in.  “But most of all, you would never know courage if I took away your fears and you would never know My power working in you if I took away your weaknesses.”  This realization was an eye opener allowing me to see how much I needed Him guiding my life.  All I could say was, “Yes.  Thank You, Daddy.”

He shows His love to all of us in the faith when He gives us a reprimand every so often.  All we can say is, “Yes, Thank You, Daddy.”  Like our little Lyndel who would fall asleep knowing her Buddy was watching over her we too can rest assured and be at peace knowing that Daddy is watching over us. Thankful Daddy’s eyes are always on us even when we cannot see Him.

*Galatians 4:6

©Jimmy Eskew

Service Report For Life

This was bound to be the best story ever! The plot thickened with each
sentence.  We wove a tale of intrigue and mystery as the foundations of
the story were laid out. What caused this great destruction? How did such a
sound and healthy entity suddenly and unexpectedly end up completely shattered,
destroyed well before it reached the zenith of its life? What part in this
destruction did the camshaft play? How innocent were the turbochargers in all
this? What role did the push rods play knowing their history of pushing things
to edge? And don’t think for a moment the oil pump was innocent in all this.
What caused this catastrophic failure?

I smiled to myself as I leaned back in my office chair, reviewing my work.
Every player involved created a new twist and turn as the plot unfolded
convincingly while the story’s pinnacle was coming together persuasively. The
title I wanted for this story, “The Day the Crankshaft Died,” might not
be acceptable to Caterpillar so I had to use a more technical title: Service
Report DA37567, Crankshaft Failure in 992G,
ADZ1&up, Loader,
3508 Engine.


But to me, every report is a novel, every account a mystery. My goal
was to make this story so convincing that the people at Caterpillar and
corporate would be so captivated they could not put the report down but would
stay up all night, spellbound with the manuscript. I could see my report on
the New York Times Best Sellers List for 63 weeks in a row. Headlines would
declare, “Caterpillar Tech Wins Pulitzer Prize for Outstanding Service Reports.
Amazon.com would have a run on SR DA37567. I imagined myself and
my entourage in a luxury coach touring the country doing service report signing
Barnes & Nobles,  Borders Books and an occasionally Chick-fil-A or
two. Oh
yeah…
I leaned further back, reading every word over and over. It just could not get
any better, by golly! This was the BEST SERVICE REPORT ever written in the
annals of Caterpillar history. I put my hands behind my head, closed my eyes
and leaned further back. “J-J-Jimmy, you are so good,” I thought to
myself.  Suddenly…

POP!!! RIP!!! TEAR!!! SMACK!!! BAM!!! CRASH!!!
THUD!!!

 

For a nanosecond I thought I
was on a neat ride at Six Flags but then remembered I was in my office. Then
the sudden stop! When I opened my eyes I recalled how I never noticed how many
holes were in the ceiling tiles. People from the other offices came running in.
“J-J-Jimmy,” they said, “You okay? What happened?”
“D-Don’t know what h-happened,” I replied as they helped me up. Looking back we
saw what happened: when I leaned back, the chair broke in half and I landed
flat on my back, hands still behind my head, size 12 feet up in the air still
kicking wildly, looking for footing. It was a pretty hard fall onto the floor.
(My company has not yet installed the plush oriental rugs in my office)
As I was staggering around another technical writer named Solomon came to mind.
He too wrote reports many years ago–“service reports for life.” He was a
pretty smart ole boy, ran a kingdom, ran a business, was a judge, counselor and
probably would have made a good technician if he put his mind to it. One of his
service reports for life stated: “Pride goes before a fall.”* He
didn’t expound on that too much but was just saying be careful of your attitude
because you too are not invincible. The great Christian writer Chuck Swindoll
has a saying about a judgmental person who thinks they are above all others and
such a superior person. He says they are “something on a stick!” We have all
encountered those people and I am sure most will find them annoying. So maybe
my service report wasn’t all that hot after all but I do know it is a little
embarrassing being picked up off the floor by your coworkers. If my service
report does not end up on the New York Times Best Seller List then maybe it
will make it on the gossip page of the Chico, Texas Tribune.
I pray I do not become “something on a stick.” Thankful we have “Service
Reports for Life,” aren’t you?
By the way, the only other damage done besides the broken chair was when my
Aggie clock fell off the wall it began to run clockwise.

*Proverbs 16:18

©Jimmy Eskew