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Family meeting

Saturday, December 17, 2016

Genesis 49:2
Jacob called his sons and said to them: "Assemble and listen, sons of Jacob, listen to Israel, your father."

Today is Chris' birthday. He was born 36 years ago in Bloomington, Illinois, after a very long first labor on Margaret's part.

He was kinda colicky at first, but soon he became more quiet and even helpful, very protective of his brother Marc, who was born 20 months later.

I have a picture of myself, grown a Christmas beard to be a wise man in our nativity, with Chris and Marc draped all over me. About that time we read Karen Mains' book Making Sunday Special and began spending our Saturday nights in a sweet Sabbath routine.

Margaret worked hard at this, because she fixed most of the food. By Saturday night, everything was ready for the next 24 hours. We sat down for our dinner, and then came "blessing" time.

The parents blessed the children with words of affirmation. We wanted to follow in the footsteps of our Old Testament heroes. The fathers of our faith. The children blessed the parents by being patient with all of this.

We did our best to listen to God's words for our kids and then share what we heard, using the gifts God gave us of imagination, creativity and communication. Two ears to hear, one mouth to speak. We tried to get the ratio right.

In Eric Metaxas' biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, he describes dinnertime. The only conversation approved of was about important matters, things considered significant. Silence was fine, otherwise.

We don't hold ourselves to such a high standard. And we didn't then. Saturday nights in Waynesville involved games and laughter and a touch of sarcasm, along with prayer.

Sunday mornings changed for us because we awoke in the middle of our Sabbath, and going to church centered us rather than banging so hard on the beginning of the day. I think God was pleased. I know we were.

We moved to Urbana and that particular Sabbath style fell away. But it was great while it lasted, and I remember it with great joy.

Lord, as one generation passes into the next, may your name be blessed forever, as long as the sun shines, till the moon is no more. May your mountains yield peace for us, and the hills justice. We are like the sheep of your pasture, and we want to learn from you how to love.



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