The Love Response


"Dad, he's gone downstairs again. Would you please get him?"

With that Sandy gave his daughter a wink and departed with a lightness of step. Seven year old Bryce would be in the basement workshop with all of its captivating power tools. He was a natural for assembly and fancying what makes things work. The numerous Lego sets were no longer a challenge. But the next step to table sanders, radial arm saws and routers would have to wait a while.

Upstairs assembled family and friends strained to hear the lesson of restraint which Grandad would be delivering, but all they got was some subdued distant talk and the loud BRRROING of a couple of swipes with the radial arm. Then the sound of eager feet and some giggles as the two males stomped the stairs and headed for the main floor bathroom for wash-up.

At table Gramma Barb asked for a report on the activity downstairs.

"Oh, we were just discussing Bryce's eagerness to get into furniture making. I showed him the awesome power of that saw and the teeth. He has agreed to bring his own red box of hand tools next time and we're going to start something."

The boy's mother smiled at her Dad with slightly squinted questioning eyes. Son-in-law, Ken was busy at the other end of the table carving the roast. Without looking up he asked, "Bryce were you going to start any of those tools on your own?"

"Mmmaybe..."

"What did Grandad say?"

"He said that I had to learn some other stuff first, and that I was not to touch those big machines for a while."

"And are you going to do as he says?"

"Yes, sir."

"And why is that?"

"Because Grandad loves me and he is very old, and he has done a lot of stuff and helped me too. And he will still help me."

(Herein ends the lesson on obedient holy living.)

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