The Writing on the Wall

This is a story that happened to me yesterday and that aches my heart. This is a story of regret, confusion, and a certain level of anger. This is a story of how a hunt for a tiny Christmas tree turned into a search for God in a dying world. This is a story of Satan jumping into a car and hitching a ride.


My family and I went to our local Christmas tree farm(Tara Place) this past weekend and bought our Christmas tree for this year. It was a fun experience and the farm we visited goes all out to guarantee that you leave feeling ready for Christmas. Despite that fact though, I still wanted to find a small tree to place on the front porch of our home and to cover with lights. It's just something I thought would be neat. Not wanting to pay for said tree though, I decided just to drive around and see if I could find one out in the woods or off the road somewhere.


I tried to sneak away but I had been out with the boys playing that Sunday afternoon. Naturally, when they saw me getting into my vehicle, saw in hand, their curiosity peaked and I soon had two helpers loaded and ready to go with me. As we drove we talked and laughed and the boys were both big eyed and vocal in helping their dad look for that perfect little tree.


Soon enough, I spotted a group of young pine trees off in a field. I knew that one of these would be perfect and they were in a spot that I knew they were growing wild. All that was left to do now was to turn around and cut it down. How I wish I would have never turned around.


As we looked for a place to turn around, the best place was an area up the road where a gas station used to be. As we reached the road, the boys were both talking about how they had never been to this place before so they were both eagerly investigating the scenery. Then I saw it. As I pulled forward, spray painted on a wall were the words that I wasn't prepared to see. Written in large black spray painted letters was a message to one of our local law enforcement officers. This message which started with an "F" and ended with "you" prefaced the name of the officer. Not knowing what to do, I didn't mention it and just tried to speedily drive past.


Then the question came. My 8 year old son, who still thinks that words like stupid, butt, and hate are "bad" words but who reads so very, very well, asks me, his father, "Dad, why does that wall say F___ you?" There was no stuttering, stammering, or blunting of the word. He read it and said it boldly just as I have heard him read words like mother, tree, zoo, or elephant. This fact told me that he did not know he was saying anything bad but that he was simply reading what had been placed in front of him.


Stunned, I was not sure how to answer his question. The first thought that went through my mind was to answer him that some people in this world were trash and that they take pleasure out of defacing and devaluing people's property and that they don't care how their actions affect others. However, my thoughts were quickly changed to answer my son with a Christian response; one that does not counter evil with evil but that rather expresses the reasoning behind why their mother and I so often remind them that the world needs strong Christian young men and why we are trying to train them to be such. Therefore, I answered him, "because there are people in this world who do not know the love of Christ and who do not allow Christ to be the center of every action they take in life." I explained to my sons, sooner than I would have wanted, that this word was a very bad word and one that a Christian should refrain from using because it is very hurtful and powerful. Both of them verbalized understanding but I know now that this word has been firmly planted within their heads and I am very saddened by this. They not only know now how to read it, but how to use it and the power which it holds.



So what is the Christian father to do now? It's not really reasonable or possible to lay down a new family law that says no more taking the kids anywhere in the world. Nor would it be prudent to force the kids to wear blindfolds from now on when we go in the car. I don't think we could afford to replace all the windows in our car with glass that one cannot see out of. So, what to do then?


For whatever reason, my mind goes to the book of Ezra where we find Ezra preparing his followers to move forward in their journey to Jerusalem. Ezra, knowing the dangers that would lie ahead for them on the journey knew what the best answer was and I take great strength and hope in his example today. Ezra writes the following in chapter 8:

Then I proclaimed a fast there, at the river Ahava, that we might humble ourselves before our God, to seek from him a safe journey for ourselves, our children, and all our goods. 22For I was ashamed to ask the king for a band of soldiers and horsemen to protect us against the enemy on our way, since we had told the king, "The hand of our God is for good on all who seek him, and the power of his wrath is against all who forsake him." 23So we fasted and implored our God for this, and he listened to our entreaty.

Fearful and concerned about the safety of those he loves, Ezra's action was to humble himself before God and to plead for the protection that they knew they would need. Ezra recognizes that he could ask the king for their physical protection, but to do so would in a sense make Ezra a hypocrite as he has been preaching about how great and powerful his God is. Ezra was placed at a crossroads in which he had to choose to trust God or to trust man. Ezra chose God and later in Ezra 8 we learn that God answered their humility with the protection they so needed.

As a father, there is nothing more important to me in this world than the spiritual and physical protection of my sons. I can build walls, make rules, place blinders, and block the world all that I want. Yet, without the trust that God will keep his promises and will answer prayers for our children, all these other actions are but vanity. Therefore, I do intend to call my local mayor and city council officers and ask that they cover the graffiti up so someone else will not have this same ordeal. Still, I will trust God that He will not allow this Satanic intervention along our journey yesterday to corrupt my sons. Without this trust, I have no hope about any aspect of their life.

Just as a side note. I happen to be friends with the officer to whom the mentioned graffiti is addressed. I spoke to him about it this morning and he says he knew it was there. He's known it was there for almost 2 years. Why does it take 2 years for someone to get something like this taken off of a publicly visible wall?