How could such a beautiful lady have been just left lying in the mud like that? Of course they had assumed she would remain on the little rise above that swampy area, but she had slid. And now, what a mess we were having to try to pull out of the muck! I had finally found again, after several years, the classic old beauty that I had once owned. We watched with both eagerness and some trepidation as the winch slowly turned and the suction of the damp ground resisted its pull. At last the old girl was near level ground at the top of the rise, her red and white stripes still bright between the streaks of grime. My lovely 1954 Ford sedan was almost to safety and the hope of restoration - when the chain broke!
It crashed blithely over two saplings in its raucous descent, and my husband and I just stared at each other in disbelief. Yet, something about the shock on our children's faces broke the tension of the moment. And then we laughed.
Amazingly, we each expressed the same thought simultaneously: "A chain is only as strong as its weakest link." Somehow we sensed that the incident had provided a teachable moment for our youngsters. We witnessed God's providential timing that very evening when our son asked a thought-provoking question. In a general discussion, there had been mention of a part of our town now covered with shopping centers once having been a wonderful wooded area. My son, who loves history, apparently got to thinking about other things he'd been told about the past. "Dad, how can we really know that something was a certain way in the past? We didn't see it - we weren't there, so..."
"You're right, son," my husband replied, "you couldn't know the woods were there from seeing them yourself because they were plowed down before you were born. The evidence for you that they indeed existed comes from the fact that your father saw them, and told you that it was so. I've recounted to you many times about the hours of delight my friends and I had in those woods building forts and tree-houses - and about our juicy summertime snacks there of the small, perfectly round watermelons that old Mr. Anderson kindly allowed us to pick from his nearby patch!" I knew that my son's keen imagination could see it all.
We went on talking to our children about things our grandfathers and grandmothers had seen and experienced and had told their children, our parents. Our parents knew the accounts were true because their parents were there. "My grandfather told my father, and my father told me, and that's how I know it's so."
Each generation is like a link in a chain. We only know what has been because one generation passes knowledge on to the next generation - and on and on. Each of us has the very solemn responsibility to pass on to the next generation, above all else, the knowledge of what is True. If we neglect to tell our children what is "the Truth", it will not be passed on to future generations. We reminded our children, "A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. The Truth can be lost in one generation."
Amazingly, we each expressed the same thought simultaneously: "A chain is only as strong as its weakest link." Somehow we sensed that the incident had provided a teachable moment for our youngsters. We witnessed God's providential timing that very evening when our son asked a thought-provoking question. In a general discussion, there had been mention of a part of our town now covered with shopping centers once having been a wonderful wooded area. My son, who loves history, apparently got to thinking about other things he'd been told about the past. "Dad, how can we really know that something was a certain way in the past? We didn't see it - we weren't there, so..."
"You're right, son," my husband replied, "you couldn't know the woods were there from seeing them yourself because they were plowed down before you were born. The evidence for you that they indeed existed comes from the fact that your father saw them, and told you that it was so. I've recounted to you many times about the hours of delight my friends and I had in those woods building forts and tree-houses - and about our juicy summertime snacks there of the small, perfectly round watermelons that old Mr. Anderson kindly allowed us to pick from his nearby patch!" I knew that my son's keen imagination could see it all.
We went on talking to our children about things our grandfathers and grandmothers had seen and experienced and had told their children, our parents. Our parents knew the accounts were true because their parents were there. "My grandfather told my father, and my father told me, and that's how I know it's so."
Each generation is like a link in a chain. We only know what has been because one generation passes knowledge on to the next generation - and on and on. Each of us has the very solemn responsibility to pass on to the next generation, above all else, the knowledge of what is True. If we neglect to tell our children what is "the Truth", it will not be passed on to future generations. We reminded our children, "A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. The Truth can be lost in one generation."
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