Mak’n Hamburgers Tonight

It is 2016 and the campaigners vying for my attention are relentless. No, not “those” campaigners, the Mini Macks (V), (very independent) . Cody is currently the loudest making his platform known,

“Hey, guess what…”
“What?” I distractedly respond.
“We are mak’n hamburgers tonight,” he smiles with a sly grin like I was just let in on the biggest secret of our nation’s history.
“Are we? I didn’t know that.”
“Yes, yes we are. On the ‘girl’.”
“Ah yes, on the grill, even though it’s 25 degrees and we don’t have any hamburgers in the fridge?” I politely attempt to redirect the campaign.
He holds fast, “Yep. Even though that. We are mak’n hamburgers tonight…and tomorrow.”

This campaign has been going on for months. Same enthusiasm. Same sly grin. Even if we had hamburgers the night before. Determination. Complete understanding of what is needed. No wavering, no distractions, sees the vision for our future and is hammering it home to the rest of us.

Light bulbs of development are going off lately and it has been thrilling to see. Personalities are getting stronger and more pronounced. Learning is morphing to new levels and challenges. Rory is picking up more letters in her handwriting and phonics, Ryder is adding and subtracting fractions, Cody can navigate the computer mouse to various learning games and is picking up site words with the other two. They can locate over 50 countries and dozens of states on the world and U.S. map.

Chris asked us around the fire pit just after Christmas what was our favorite things in 2015. There were so many things to choose from: I gained two nieces, I witnessed miracles, I went to the other side of the world. Yet what I was most excited about is that I have taught a kid to read and two aren’t going to be far behind. The world opens up with reading in so many astounding ways. It is a humbling and slow process, but when the light bulbs of understanding start to illuminate it is oh so exciting!

I love the matter-of-fact kids I share life with. The mix is brilliant and totally complementary. Rory was itching to do volcano experiments this school year and has been politely put off because Ryder’s studies have taken more time than last year. But today we finally got to it. A basic model of vinegar and baking soda reaction. We talked about pressure, bubbles, heat, reactions. I explained to her that Cody and her are like a volcano and she got the meaning instantly, “Yes! He makes me angry! Hot! Bubble ‘Arg!’! But then sometimes I’m calm and he’s fun.”

The Mini Macks trust each other. They rely on each other. A unit campaigning for fun and exploration. I merely feel like the cruise captain, cruise cook, and cruise entertainer. Hoping my activities get a good rating, a desire to come back. Their skepticism wavering from week to week.

So when I asked Cody the other day if he’d like to, “Go to Heaven since you insists on standing in the middle of the parking lot or stay close to me and live!?” I forgot that he takes most of my parenting as optional much like a cruise activity.

“Whelp, I’d like to go to Heaven.”
I stared blankly. Backfire. He continued,“I’d like to go to Heaven. ‘Cept not right now.”
“Well, that’s a good point. But you chose to stand in the storm drain and that car saw you and stopped. Your choice could have ended much differently.”
He got my point. Quickly.

We got in the car and moved on from that moment of parental perfection (not). In no time Ryder, captain logical and oh so respected campaigning comrade, piped up:

“Um, Mom?…”
“Yes?”
“He actually wouldn’t go to Heaven.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, well, because he hasn’t asked Jesus into his heart.”
Rory chimed in matter-of-fact, “Oh my! Right! Cody… you haven’t asked Jesus into your heart.”
“Ok, well, I would like to,” Cody joined in enthusiastically, “makes sense.”

I started to explain what it means. The seriousness of the decision and that it is his choice and no other’s. That with this choice comes great responsibility, joy, friendship, and difficulty. You know, the regular vernacular used during a conversation with a three-year-old…

He answered, “Yes. I’d like Jesus as my friend. I’d like to listen to Him. It sounds fantastic! But, I don’t want to go to Heaven right now…”
“Agreed. Please don’t. You have too many great adventures to go on here. So many people to love, to learn from, to have fun times with and God wants you to do all that for, I hope, a very very long time. Until you are hobbling with a cane and have really awesome wrinkly skin,” I explained.
“Yes, lots of adventures! I want to pray now!” he exclaimed.

I pulled the car over, ironically in front of the neighbors yard where a wooden “JOY” sign with the manger scene carved in the “O”. I took my seat belt off, turned around, and we repeated the biggest and best prayer of Cody’s life. He repeated every word with complete confidence. Rory and Ryder whispered the words in support. I fumbled with words, hopeful to choose ones I was sure he’d understand the importance of his prayer. He looked up at the end and said, “That’s good praying! Can we go to Heaven now?”

I laughed. A bit confused. Ryder smiled peeking over the seats, “Mom, he means when we go. Not RIGHT now.” I smile at the wise and caring voice from the trunk space. Such emotion in one morning, from shopping to parking lots, to Heaven and back.

As I pull away from the curb I heard Cody say one more thing,
“Hey Mom! Guess what?”
“What?” I distractedly respond.
“We are mak’n hamburgers tonight.”
The other two holler in agreement. The campaigners unrelentingly unified.

Here’s to another great year!

Let me tell you something wonderful, a mystery I’ll probably never fully understand. We’re not all going to die—but we are all going to be changed. You hear a blast to end all blasts from a trumpet, and in the time that you look up and blink your eyes—it’s over. On signal from that trumpet from heaven, the dead will be up and out of their graves, beyond the reach of death, never to die again. At the same moment and in the same way, we’ll all be changed. In the resurrection scheme of things, this has to happen: everything perishable taken off the shelves and replaced by the imperishable, this mortal replaced by the immortal. Then the saying will come true:

 Death swallowed by triumphant Life!
Who got the last word, oh, Death?
Oh, Death, who’s afraid of you now?

 It was sin that made death so frightening and law-code guilt that gave sin its leverage, its destructive power. But now in a single victorious stroke of Life, all three—sin, guilt, death—are gone, the gift of our Master, Jesus Christ. Thank God!

-1 Corinthians 15:51-57