If you haven’t heard, Ben Binkley severely sprained his ankle over at our house playing in the snow. It’s not the first or second or third injury for a guest of our children, so parents beware when a Jarrell kid invites yours home. Just like in the Garden of Eden, there was only one thing forbidden to Walker and Ben when they went out to play - sledding off the barn roof. Yes, you read that right. Sledding off the barn roof.
My kids had been doing that for two days already, as the roof of the small barn isn’t that far up and they did have 20 inches of snow to fall on. Looked like fun to me, the dad from Mississippi where we always had to invent our fun, before Wal-Mart made the store bought kind within reach. Being the good mother that she is, it looked like death to Myra and she fussed at them from the first time they got up there. I faintly said “listen to your mother”, a typical dad response that sounds supportive of moms, but unfortunately the kids know better. I should have gotten up out of the lazy boy – unfortunately a non typical dad response – and really backed up what Myra had said.
But it did look like fun. I think I drew the line at Wyatt sledding off and went back to whatever I was doing. Welcome to Myra’s world and I suspect many other moms; bless you for your longsuffering forgiveness.
I did have enough sense to know that after two days of barn launches the turning-to-ice snow was not as nearly forgiving, or deep, as it had been, so when the Binkley boys came over and caught glimpse of the roof they had heard tales about, I really did back Myra up when she said stay off the roof. I distinctly remember her telling the boys and I distinctly remember saying “listen to your mother” in a mostly I meant it voice. The boys, of course, distinctly remember hearing nothing.
Just like the kid on the Brian Regan comedic piece that gets voted to be the one to go in and gently break the news to his mom that his sibling’s arm is broken - and does so by asking her if she was going to the grocery store to get milk, to see if since she was already in town she might have time to stop by the hospital - Walker sheepishly came into our bedroom to announce what had happened.
It was 1:40 in the AM – the other hazard of sending your older kids to the Jarrells, especially when school is out.
“Mom, dad.”
“Who’s hurt?” we responded waking up, knowing Walker wouldn’t bother us otherwise.
“Uh, there’s nothing to worry about. It’s really not that bad”, i.e. nobody was dead or dismembered.
“It’s Ben. He’s hurt his ankle”.
“Were you on the barn roof?”
“Yes.” Were being the operative word.
“Can he walk?”
“So, so. But it’s not too bad. I just wanted you to be prepared for in the morning,” in case we needed to go to the grocery for milk and wanted to stop by the hospital.
After getting up to check on Ben, who though in some pain tried to act like it was no big deal, I got tickled laying back in bed recalling how much they both downplayed the accident, knowing full well they had been caught doing what they weren’t supposed to do. And they still downplayed it the next day. His first two attempts off the barn had been successful, after all.
Taking him home the next morning so he could go to the doctor, I recanted what I needed to about what had happened. “Let this be a lesson to y’all” I said, with some diatribe about their not listening – the teenager’s true disorder. But the key to having success from the phrase “Let this be a lesson” isn’t from the parent pointing the finger and giving a tongue lashing, it’s in the spirit of the kids who are listening and the first word “Let”. “Let” this be a lesson. It won’t be a lesson if they don’t ponder, and think about, and decide that they are in fact going to learn from their mistake. Just because we let them have it, doesn’t mean it will be a lesson they learn from at all – unless they decide to let it.
“He who has ears to ear, let him hear!” Jesus used this phrase several time and it always puzzled me as a kid. What does he mean? Was this Jesus giving permission to someone to hear? Was He talking to just the hearing? Of course if we have ears, we’ll hear, so what does this mean?
One key time Jesus uses this phrase is after telling the parable of the sower – and then again after explaining it. The one where He describes how the condition of the soil is what makes the difference when seed is planted. If the ground is hard, the seed won’t even germinate, and birds will quickly devour the seed. If the soil is rocky, the seed will flourish, and grow, until the heat comes along and cooks the shallow roots. If the soil is infested with weed seeds, the weeds will eventually choke the life out of the good plants. If the soil is soft, the seeds will be fruitful, and multiply, and it will be green grass all around. “He who has ears to hear, let him hear”.
The seed of course is God’s word. The soil, our hearts. I can hear Jesus say, in His parent voice – His momma-I-meant-it parent voice, not His daddy-listen-to-your-mother voice – “Let this be a lesson to you.” Think about this. Ponder this. What kind of soil is your heart? Is it filled with things, stuff of this life that’ll eventually choke the Lord out? Is it littered with shallow rocks that make for shallow, parched plants? Is it so hard it’ll put this down after reading this sentence? Or is it soft, and humble, ready to receive the word. What kind of soil is your heart in relation to God’s word, His plan for you? “Let this be a lesson”. “He who has ears to hear, let him hear”.
You see, Jesus did the sowing. He told the parable. The seed was broadcast. But He can no more make it grow and thrive in your heart than I can make kids quit jumping off a barn, unless you and I let it. He who has ears to hear, let him hear.
When your kids have said to you “everybody else is doing it”, I know you parents out there have retorted at least once “if your friends were jumping off a cliff, would you?” If you see Ben Binkley on crutches, replace cliff with barn, and ask him. It might be a different response this time around, if he “lets” this episode be a lesson – and Walker is nowhere around. I’m sure the ankle will be reminding his ears of the right answer for several weeks.
Of course, the real lesson from all of this probably ought to be how we husbands should get out of our lazy boy – isn’t that appropriately named? – more often, and tell the kids what they need to hear before our wives even have to worry. But mine ears have grown dull of hearing…
And it did look like fun.
