The year was 1972 and the Vietnam war was raging.  Daily news reports told of the horrible damage being done to the bodies of children when their villages were napalmed. Napalm is liquid fire, so use your imagination.

At some point, my wife and I learned that a hospital in Da Nang was working to repair these burned bodies and that they were hurting for funds. So we began sending them contributions from time to time. I forget how we got it to them.

One day I came home for lunch.  As I entered the apartment, Margaret looked up from the Newsweek where she was reading yet another story of the horrors taking place in Vietnam. She was in tears. “Can’t we do more to help these children?” she said.

I said, “Maybe we can send $25 a month instead of occasionally.”

She said, “No. I mean, like, adopt one.”

I reacted instantly.  “What?  Honey, you don’t just adopt a foreign child!”

When she saw how closed I was to the subject, she dropped it.  But she continued to pray.

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I was 17 when the State of Alabama decided to take a chance and issue me a driver’s license. The trooper giving the test admitted he was not too sure about me at the time.

Over these 57 years of driving, I have logged more than a  million miles on the streets and highways.  And I keep learning some things about safety.  Frankly, I worry about my three children and their families because some of these lessons are learned only on the road and not in textbooks or classrooms.

Whether they can be taught by a grandfather on the internet is a valid question.

So, for Leah and Jessica and Grant, for Abby and Erin, and for Darilyn and JoAnne, and within a few short years, for Jack also–the only one of our eight grands without a driver’s license–here are some urgent considerations Grandpa Joe wants to bring to your attention.

I would love for you to print this out and read it several times and even discuss it among yourselves.

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It was mid-way through December and I was telling my friend in denominational service how I had preached on Joseph, the father of Jesus, the Sunday before. The message was all about obedience and carrying out the will of the Lord, even when it didn’t jive with what you’d always been taught and believed.

It’s a powerful lesson Joseph gives us,  and he deserves more than the short shrift we usually give the man.

My friend said, “Let me tell you a little story I sometimes use when I’m preaching on Joseph.”

“As you know, scholars believe Joseph died before Jesus began His earthly ministry because he is never mentioned again after the incident when Jesus was 12.” (That would be Luke chapter 2.)

“Anyway, I was thinking about what God said to Joseph when he died and arrived in Heaven.”

“Back when I was in college, I worked one summer on the wheat harvest.  Do you know what that is?”

I said, “College boys working from Texas to the Dakotas driving combines.”

“Right. It’s all day, seven days a week. One of our neighbors had recruited me and was our crew chief.  It was the hardest work I’ve ever done in my life.”

“At the end of the summer when I got home, all I wanted to do was sleep.  But the second day, my father came into my room and said, ‘Get dressed, son.  I want you to go with me somewhere.'”

“We got in the pickup truck and drove about 20 miles.  I had no idea where we were going.”

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Some years ago when I was still pastoring, I received a phone call from the principal of a local religious school who wanted me to straighten out one of my members.

The man was head of an independent Christian school, ultra-conservative as you may deduce from what follows.

One of my church members was teaching in their school and her husband often volunteered.  The principal said, “Some of us are concerned that he is not the head of their home. The Lord told me to call this to your attention so you can deal with it.”

I said, “Well, I promise to pray about it. If the Lord tells me to, I’ll do it. But not until then.  After all, this comes close to interfering in something not my business.  My approach would be to pray for them, preach the word and God’s plan from the pulpit, and trust the Holy Spirit to take it from there.”

He said, “That sounds right to me. You pray about it–and I’ll be glad to sit down with you and them if you want me there.”

I said, “Don’t do anything unless I call you.”

You want to know the rest of the story?  This account is taken from my daily journal 16 years ago.  No names were recorded (rather wisely, may I say!) and other than the written account, I have no memory of any of it.

As I came across the story in that journal, I find myself amazed at the presumption of this principal and his co-workers.

Imagine me accosting someone because “I was told” that he is not giving sufficient leadership to his wife and children.

Now, as a pastor who writes for other pastors and church leaders, this little incident gives me the opportunity to say a few things.

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