"Important Stuff"

“Important Stuff”

 

When our grandson Nate was in second grade (he’s just finished his sophomore year of high school) Dave and Jenna received a call from his teacher saying he had a habit of talking at inappropriate times in class. When Dave asked him about this Nate said it was true with this explanation: “But it’s important stuff, Dad!” Dave then used this as an opportunity to tell him there was a time to speak with others but also times to be quiet and listen. (Funny how this also fits a 70+ year old.)

In his seven-year-old mind what Nate had to say was significant enough to warrant disturbing his teacher and classmates. As he’s grown up he’s learned there’s “…a time to be silent and a time to speak….” (Ecclesiastes 3:7) and his parents didn’t receive another call like the one mentioned above. (To ease everyone’s mind, Nate told me it was OK to tell this tale out of school—pun intended).

As happened with our granddaughter Kimbur (see the article “Not Always the Teacher”) in this instance I became Nate’s student. I thought about what’s important enough for me to speak about when the door opens (or even if I have to push it a little). Over the years this has included life-changing experiences (sometimes in the School of Hard Knocks), thankfulness for putting Karen (aka Gram) in my life, and the antics of our grandchildren as they’ve grown up. But one area in which I’ve often been remiss (to my shame and regret) is sharing my faith. The psalmist admonishes us, “Let the redeemed of the Lord say so….” (Psalm107:2, KJV and NASB) and Jesus’ apostles put this into practice in a time of challenge by saying to the religious leaders, “Judge for yourselves whether it is right in God’s sight to obey you rather than God. For we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard,” (Acts 4:19-20). This is the important stuff—I have to ask myself why I’m slow to talk about it and quick to wax eloquent about things that matter much less.

We as grandparents have fond memories of seeing our grandkids grow up, and without realizing it we often become their students. Thanks, Nate, for teaching me a great life lesson. Gram and I love you!

Blessings!

Jim McMillan (aka Gramps)