Previous Challenge Entry
Topic: Learning for Life (08/23/04)
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TITLE: Learning the Same Lesson Over and Over and Over. By Brad Rodgers 08/25/04 |
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I’ll never forget the joy of earning my first dollar as an eight year-old boy and taking my first baby-steps into the world of American capitalism. Since, at the age of eight, I had yet to develop any real marketable skills that would attract the attention of major businesses in my area and, seeing as how my parents were often strapped for cash, I was forced to search for ways to stretch my allowance dollar. At the time, my father was giving my five year-old sister and me a five dollar per week allowance, yet I loathed the fact that five dollars would only buy ten packs of baseball cards. What young boy can survive getting only ten packs of baseball cards per week? Knowing that I had to find a way to up my income and understanding that the ten dollar cumulative allowance between my sister and me would not change, I devised a way to get both my allowance and hers.
It was at that beautiful age of eight that I began charging my sister five dollars a week in exchange for my companionship. For the low price of five dollars, I would agree to play whatever silly game that she devised for one thirty-minute period at a time of my choosing. Looking back, I still consider it quite a bargain considering how nerdy she really was.
Years later, I look at how much I’ve grown and how much more responsible I am now than I was then. It’s like night and day how much we mature and realize how ridiculous we used to be. I mean, in exchange for five bucks, I gave this little girl a limited amount of my time and, believe me, I watched the clock. When the thirty minute time period was up, I could be in mid-sentence and the game was over. Of course I’d finish the sentence for a 35 cent fee per word. These days my relationships are so much stronger and so much more intimate. Take my relationship with God, for example. A relationship with God, as with anyone, has to be an honest give and take. I ask him daily for his blessings, his protection, his helping hand. The Bible tells me that, if I ask, I will receive and, baby, I ask. All he asks for in return is my time, a fellowship with him, an honest yearning to listen to his word being taught. And I give him that on Sunday mornings. Well, for one hour, at least. And you better believe that I’m watching the clock because lunch time cometh and both he and the pastor should respect that, right?
My sister gave me all that she had and, in return, I gave her limited amounts of me. Jesus bled on the cross and died for me. Yet oftentimes, even as I am in his midst, I continue to watch the clock.