From Childhood, Learning…

For the past two years, babies have been a constant in our home. Things happen in these early years of life that moms and dads, grandmas and grandpas insist they must remember to bring up at the wedding!

Our oldest grandson, for example, had the cutest way of saying some things. “Vitamins” were “zytayins,” and so on. His mom has an archive of photos and videos, each rooted in a story—mostly humorous.

Other things aren’t so funny. More like scary!

Like the time we were on vacation with our daughter and grandson when he was about 6 months old, renting an AirB&B on Lake Michigan. I had laid the baby on a bed in the upstairs bedroom, putting a pillow on either side of him.

A few minutes later, though, we all heard the thud…followed by the howling.

Took me back almost 30 years to a visit with my grandparents in North Carolina. Our son was a few months old, laid him on a bed to sleep, and thud!

Parents—and grandparents!—remember those things and likely will share them with the affected child.

Mine did.

Mom told me more than once that I had put a terrible scare in them.

Apparently, when I was just a few months old, I came down with a nasty cold and cough. Then came the fever, and it kept climbing.

Nothing she did seemed to help, so off we went to the doctor’s office. Quickly he diagnosed pneumonia, and just as quickly ordered my admission to the hospital. I was in pretty serious condition, he said.

I spent the next few days in a tent. Mom said I could’ve died, and things were touch-and-go for a day or so. I have no idea what was injected in the tent. Oxygen, perhaps? I’m sure it was more than Vick’s Vap-o-rub though. Whatever the protocol, the treatment—coupled with the prayers of lots of people—did the trick and I emerged from the tent well on my way to recovery.

[Hmmm…I just got to thinking…could that have something to do with my enjoyment of backpacking and sleeping in tents? Probably not….]

Mom reminded me of that story at the time of my ordination into the ministry, asserting that God graciously spared my life for the course I was about to take.

I’ve tried to recall other stories Mom or Dad told me about my infancy and toddler years, and come up blank. I guess the pneumonia trauma made everything else seem rather mundane and forgettable. That, or it might have something to do with being the middle child!

Mom—not Dad…he wasn’t much of a storyteller—Mom did tell me more than once, though, that as a toddler and young child, I was quite ornery.

Can’t be so!

Oh, she insisted, it was indeed so.

My kindergarten teacher called in exasperation because I wouldn’t be quiet and still during nap time. Even bribing with the promised M&Ms didn’t work! The threatened paddling helped only marginally.

I vaguely recollect the incident of being dragged by the teacher out of a children’s Bible class to be taken to my mother. Acting up and disruptive, allegedly. Allegedly! Supposedly happened more than once, so I’ve been told.

Mom got into the act, too. Again, more than once. But in a most embarrassing setting—for her, anyway.

Right in the middle of a church service, Dad was doing whatever on the platform—leading the singing or preaching or something—and Mom decided I was much too ornery and disruptive. Wouldn’t listen to her numerous commands to be quiet and sit still.

There were a few times Dad got in on the act, though. From his place on the platform, no less! I can hear his stern, sharp voice, “Bryan Scott, sit still and be quiet!” Usually, that did the trick…but not always.

So if not, grabbing me by the hand, Mom hauled me out of the pew, dragging me down the middle aisle of the sanctuary, down to the church basement for a few moments of bonding time. Painful bonding time.

Again, vague recollections on my part. But Mom could fill in the details, and she didn’t hesitate to remind me that I wasn’t a perfect little angel growing up!

We need to hear these stories. At least I did.

As parents, we need to tell them.

There are those stories—like my near-death experience in a pediatric tent—that recount the grace of God who preserves and protects. Mom rehearsed that experience to emphasize that God in His grace preserved my life for some special service.

But she also told about my orneriness to emphasize how desperately I needed His grace! Being preserved, perhaps, for special service was not due to my being particularly special or worthy or better than anyone else.

That’s a good balance, isn’t it?

I’m afraid many children grow up today thinking they have no flaws, can do no wrong, are exceptional, will be the best, the greatest, the special ones. They need to be frankly confronted with their orneriness. Sin, the Bible calls it. It’s OK…that’s how they learn their need of a Savior!

True, other children hear just the opposite. Parents can neglect them, belittle them, make them feel worthless. Peers can bully them and make them feel unwanted. They need to hear of God’s grace and mercy.

I imagine this was the balanced upbringing of the child Timothy.

Paul exhorts the adult Timothy, now serving in the pastorate:

But you must continue in the things which you have learned and been assured of, knowing of whom you have learned them…. – 2 Timothy 2:14

From whom? Some things from Paul, to be sure. But earlier in his letter, Paul referred to

…the genuine faith that is in you, which dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice….” 2 Timothy 1:5

And so, in his exhortation to “continue,” the Apostle brought up that parental influence:

…and that from childhood you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus. – 2 Timothy 3:15

The scene isn’t hard to imagine, is it?

“Timmy, my boy! You’re being ornery! You’ve disobeyed again! I told you to put your toys away and come to the table, and there you sit in the pile of Legos! You’re behaving just like our first parents in the Garden…..”

“Yes, Timmy…you’ve done wrong. But look how God has spared you! Look at all He’s done for you! And most importantly, let me tell you about the Savior that His Word has promised. His name is Jesus….”

From childhood learning the Holy Scriptures.