"A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove... but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child." ~Forest E. Witcraft

The quote that is the title of this post is actually a slight variation of the end of a brief essay called, "Within My Power," by Dr. Forest E. Witcraft, who was a scholar, teacher, and Boy Scout executive.  His essay was first published in a 1950 issue of Scouting Magazine, and it reads as follows:

"I am not a Very Important Man, as importance is commonly rated. I do not have great wealth, control a big business, or occupy a position of great honor or authority.  Yet I may someday mould destiny. For it is within my power to become the most important man in the world in the life of a boy. And every boy is a potential atom bomb in human history.  A humble citizen like myself might have been the Scoutmaster of a Troop in which an undersized unhappy Austrian lad by the name of Adolph might have found a joyous boyhood, full of the ideals of brotherhood, goodwill, and kindness. And the world would have been different.  A humble citizen like myself might have been the organizer of a Scout Troop in which a Russian boy called Joe might have learned the lessons of democratic cooperation.  These men would never have known that they had averted world tragedy, yet actually they would have been among the most important men who ever lived.  

All about me are boys. They are the makers of history, the builders of tomorrow. If I can have some part in guiding them up the trails of Scouting, on to the high road of noble character and constructive citizenship, I may prove to be the most important man in their lives, the most important man in my community.

A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove. But the world may be different, because I was important in the life of a boy."

I read that passage at Caleb's Eagle Scout Court of Honor several years ago, as I thanked those who influenced our boy in his young life.  But it came to my mind again a few weeks ago as we gathered in College Station to celebrate Caleb's graduation from Texas A&M University.

So many people have been (and are) important in the lives of my children.  When Sarah, Becca, and Caleb were young, not only were their parents and grandparents invested in their lives, but many of our friends made it a point to really KNOW our kids - to be involved in their lives, and to make them a priority.  Friends who attended ball games, school plays, marching events, band concerts, and graduations - some who traveled many miles to do so.  These friends remembered birthdays, provided comfort at the loss of a grandparent, and worked at making fun memories with them.

As our children left the nest and moved into their college world, this group of important people broadened for them.  Their Christian family grew as they got to know good, godly people who loved them and embraced them into their families.  Friends who were there during break-ups, the stresses of school, surgeries, and again, the death of a grandparent.  Godly people who set an example, provided guidance, and became family to our kids, when their blood family was many miles away.

And now, as all of our kids have entered their post-college adult lives, that circle of important people continues to grow for each of them.  What a blessing.

I am thankful beyond description for those important people in the lives of my children - you have helped them in ways too numerous to mention.  You are loved greatly by them, and by their parents.  And your influence and encouragement to them cannot be measured - they are as far along on their paths of faith as they are because of you.

But as I contemplate all of that, I need to take it a step further - - what about me?  What kind of influence am I having in the lives of the little people that make their way into my world?  Am I "important" in the life of a child?  Am I taking the time to invest in the lives of precious children in such a way as to build relationships with them, encourage them, and help them as they grow and develop their faith?  I plan to make more of an effort to do that, and I hope you will, too.

“I love these little people; and it is not a slight thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us.” ~Charles Dickens

"Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one." ~Jane Howard

Yesterday was Mother's Day, and my Facebook news feed blew up with posts and pictures of my friends with their moms and children.  Some were funny, all were sweet, and I enjoyed seeing all of it!  My own children put together this very thoughtful video for me . . .


I am blessed, and most of the people in my circle of friends and acquaintances are equally blessed with loving families.  And being surrounded by such a family oriented community, I often take this for granted.

However, on Saturday afternoon, I saw another side of life . . .

Sarah & Ryan were visiting, and we went out to Lake Tyler to enjoy the nice weather and try out Jeff's new canoe.  Jeff, Sarah & Ryan loaded up and headed out for a nice, leisurely trip across the lake, while I sat back in a lawn chair to enjoy the quiet solitude that comes with being on the shore.  I was ready to enjoy the sights and sounds of waves gently slapping the shore, boats passing in the distance, birds flying and chirping, frogs hopping and croaking, and the gentle rustle of leaves as the wind blew through the trees.

Ahhh, such peaceful relaxation awaited me, or so I thought.  However, as my family rowed away and I settled back in my camp chair, the sights and sounds I anticipated were far from my reality.

About 50 yards to my left, three people sat together on top of a picnic table.  Two young men, and a young woman.  They were loud, and obviously inebriated.  Further down to my left was a tent, and near that campsite sat a man and two women.  At first, I couldn't hear much from this group, but that soon changed.

Shortly after my family departed in the canoe, one of the young women from the tent group walked over to the picnic table group.  She loudly told them that although she didn't know them, she thought they "looked like nice people."  She said she "needed a break from the drama" of her tent group, and then she went on to (loudly) tell her new friends all of her camping friends' troubles - about how she had to come out there that morning at 9 a.m. to settle their strife, and how when she arrived, they were walking around naked and she had to get them dressed . . . She also said, "I just want to get them home without them going to jail."  All of this was laced with expletives.

Before long, tent woman and picnic table people were sharing beer and laughter.  Then, things took an ugly turn . . . one of the picnic table men stumbled (literally) over to the man and woman sitting near the tent - the two who had previously been described as "walking around naked" earlier in the morning.  Words were exchanged between the two young men who didn't know each other - loud, profane words.  And, as expected, it soon escalated into punching and kicking.

At this point, my happy little family returned from their peaceful excursion.  (Well, mostly peaceful - I later learned that the tent people had yelled expletives at them as they rowed past.)  

As I contemplated whether or not to call the police to report these people pummeling each other, the fight quickly broke up, and the picnic table group got into their car and left.

Jeff and Ryan loaded up the canoe, we departed the lake for Braum's ice cream, and enjoyed the rest of our afternoon.

I've thought a lot about those people at the lake the past two days.  Especially as I consider the stark contrast between the people in my world, and the way those people we encountered at the lake live their lives.  I wondered about them yesterday - as we gathered with our church family to worship God, I wondered what they were doing, and how they were feeling.  As I thought back on the memories we made with Sarah and Ryan the previous few days, I wondered about those groups at the lake - would they even remember what had occurred in their lives on Saturday?  They were obviously intoxicated, so probably not.  And if they do remember, what kind of memories will they be?

Then, I wondered about their Mother's Day.  The people in my life, for the most part, have happy families.  I somehow doubt those young folks at the lake have warm, loving families.

So what's the difference?  I do not want to in any way imply that we are "better" than those people at the lake.  We are all human beings, created in God's image, and given the same Savior who died for us.  We are all sinners in need of that Savior.  The difference is that the people in my circle of life have chosen to follow Him.

When we choose to follow our Creator, to do things in His way, to pattern our lives after our Savior, and to teach those things to our children, we will be blessed.  God's way is always best.

So as I begin my week, and think back over the family memories I made over this previous weekend, I am a little more thankful -- thankful for the parents who raised me to honor God, and for my children who have chosen to follow God in their own lives.  I'm trying harder to not take those blessings for granted.  And most importantly, I will strive harder this week to be a light to those I might encounter like the unfortunate souls we saw at Lake Tyler on Saturday.  How sadly miserable those people must be.

“But the lovingkindness of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him, And His righteousness to children’s children, to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments.”  ~Psalm 103:17-18

"...And she loved a little boy very, very much - even more than she loved herself." ~Shel Silverstein The Giving Tree

Caleb was home last weekend, and it was much like it has been since he began college.  We had a productive weekend of traveling to Irving to help him find an apartment, as he prepares to graduate from Texas A&M University, and begin his first job with AMN Healthcare.  We walked his dog, caught up on the latest news, and (as we always do when Caleb is home) we laughed.  A lot.  But this visit was different, even if no one noticed but me.

Four years ago, Caleb left home to attend college.  That was an adjustment for all of us, but one we easily embraced - he joined his sisters in College Station, and although I missed him, I always knew that this was home.  He would be back for extended stays - summers, winter breaks, spring breaks.  Yes, he had a "home" in College Station, but it was always temporary.  THIS was home for him.  Until now.

Signing the lease agreement for his apartment - no cosigner needed!

Sunday night as Caleb put the finishing touches on the last project of his college career in our living room floor, I bent down to kiss his bearded cheek goodnight.  And when I did, I made a conscious effort to take it in - the feel, the smell, the sound of it all.  I've kissed that cheek at least a million times before.  At first, it was a pudgy little baby cheek, that smelled so sweet, and I couldn't get enough of!  Eventually, it grew into a usually dirty, sometimes smelly, and occasionally scraped up cheek of a growing boy.  I went from holding the owner of that cheek, to having him wriggle sitting beside me, to sometimes chasing him down to kiss it.  My posture changed from leaning down to stretching up to reach that cheek when he's standing - all 6 feet, 2 inches of him.  But as I kissed that familiar cheek Sunday night, I knew that although there will be other "goodnight kisses," they will be given when he visits, or when I visit him.  Soon he will have a new home.  A new permanent address.

And those hands.  Sunday evening in worship, as I stood beside him and we bowed our heads for the closing prayer, he reached and took my hand.  As his large hand enveloped mine,  I remembered reaching down to take the small hand of a wiggly little boy - a hand that was once so small, it could only grasp a few of my fingers.

Then, on Monday morning he left to go back to College Station, as he's done numerous times over the past four years.  But in THIS parting, I hugged him a bit tighter, and a little longer, fully savoring that moment.  And my gaze lingered a little more as he drove his beloved "Clifford" (his big red truck) out of the driveway and disappeared down the street.  The next time he comes, he will be a college graduate with his own home in Irving - one he is paying for himself.  (I'm not feeling too sad about that last part!)

My boy has grown into a man.  There is great pride and satisfaction in that.  From the outset of this adventure called parenting, Jeff and I have raised our kids to leave.  Our goal has been to equip them to live in this world on their own.  To raise them to be self-sufficient.  Caleb is ready to do that, and this mom could not feel more blessed.

So at this time of reflection, thankfulness and celebration as a chapter of Caleb's life closes and a new one begins, I might feel a twinge of sadness.  But that is greatly overshadowed by the joy and excitement I feel as my son moves on into his young adult life.

Caleb.  We chose that name for a reason.  In Numbers 14:24, God describes the biblical Caleb this way... "But my servant, Caleb, because he has a different spirit in him, and has followed me fully..."  That has been my prayer for our Caleb for the past 22 years - that he will have a different spirit, and follow God fully.  And while I am proud of the young man who has earned his Bachelor's degree in Communication; the tall, brown-eyed Caleb who never meets a stranger, seeks to serve others, and enjoys life to the fullest; I am most proud to know that my son "follows God fully."  He is living up to his name.  As his mother, I can ask for nothing more.

So, next week when I watch him cross that stage, and I leave College Station knowing that my recently graduated son will be moving to his new home the next day, I will smile and be thankful.  And I will look forward to his visits to our home in the future.  Because as much as life is changing, one thing will always remain the same - the roots my children have here, the memories that fill our home which bind us, and the deep love our growing family shares.

Congratulations, Bud!  No mom has ever been more blessed than me.  Stay strong, serve God, and enjoy your new home.  Oh, and one more thing - please don't try kayaking in those canals in Los Colinas, no matter how great the temptation might be.  Trust me on this one . . . ;)

"There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children.  One is roots, the other is wings."  ~Henry Ward Beecher