RebeccaPriceJanney.com

It’s always a pleasure to return to my alma mater, Lafayette College, in Easton, Pennsylvania. Last night I participated in a panel discussion with three other alumni, discussing occupations in the arts and communication fields. First we answered questions monitored by the career center emcee, Maureen Walz Boehmer, then we each took a table and had dinner with students who wanted to meet us personally and ask their own questions.

I enjoyed talking with these eager young men and women whose hopes and dreams for the future are bright, yet tinged with concern about the economy and how they will fare in it. Alberto Rojas of HarperCollins and I both concurred that excellence rises to the top among job applicants, that there’s always a need for enthusiastic workers who are willing to begin at the bottom, have a strong work ethic, and again, are committed to excellence. These are qualities that have been instilled in generations of Lafayette students.
A funny thing occurred when I mentioned what year I graduated and how I used to feel so close to that date, until several years later I was watching a movie from that era and was shocked at how differently everyone looked and how disco was a big deal. One of the students asked me, “Did you really wear Spandex?” I laughed. “Not at Lafayette,” I answered. “It was preppy all the way here.”
As a follow-up to my last blog, I want to commend Borders for taking seriously my letter of complaint about a display I saw, at eye-level, among kids’ merchandise, of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. I was there with my 5 year-old son, and I was appalled that it was right there, for him to see. (The topless model is barely covering herself. Swimsuit issue? I’ve never worn a swimsuit like that!) Many other parents wrote to tell me they’ve had similar experiences with their kids at other store check-outs. Well, kudos to Borders! They heard and responded. They are moving the display to a more discreet area. That’s one small step, but giant leaps often follow!

It’s a wonder that John Adams ever grew up, let alone became our second President.  While researching my soon-to-be-released book, Then Comes Marriage? A Cultural History of the American Family, I discovered that his parents gave him a gun when he was just 8 years old.  Although he could barely lift it, Adams would go off by himself into the woods and marshes trying to bring down small game. 

Childhood was different then than it is today.  Little ones were given important household chores to do early in life, and adult responsibilities came quickly.  All hands were needed, including small ones.  Not until the latter 20^th century did most American children get to focus mainly on schoolwork and play.    

How ironic.  On the one hand, today’s children get to be kids more than at any other time in our nation’s past, with a lot of parents not demanding much of them regarding chores or other responsibilities.  But while kids get to be kids far longer than in the past, our culture forces grown-up things at them from the get-go.   For example, it isn’t uncommon to see thongs for little girls, or to see them dancing to sexually suggestive songs they in no way understand.  I’ve even seen a boy wearing a Hooters tee shirt.  Sexual material floods our airwaves and techno-gadgets in ways that would have been completely unacceptable not that long ago. 

Yesterday I took my 5 year-old son to the mall, and he wanted to buy at book at Borders.  At the check-out, right at eye level was the new Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition featuring a barely covered model.  I politely told the salesclerk that orienting that magazine at eye level—right above material aimed at little kids—was completely inappropriate.  He shrugged and said that the store had orders from the chain to display the periodical in that fashion.  You can bet that I e-mailed Borders complaining about this policy.  Friends tell me they regularly do battle with store owners about similar situations. 

We might think that John Adams’s parents were crazy to give him a gun when he was 8 years old, but can we consider ourselves more enlightened when we introduce sexual things  to our small children and somehow expect them to handle those responsibly?

When one of my favorite praise songs came on the car radio, I began singing along and soon got caught up in adoration of God.  From the back seat, our five-year-old David began talking, so I tried to block out what he was saying, if for just a moment.  (Those of you who don’t have children will think me hard-hearted.  If you have little ones, you’ll understand my need for a moment of personal focus.)  Then I realized what David was saying and immediately tuned in to it.  “I love God,” he proclaimed.  The he paused before saying, “I love God even more than Monty.”

Monty is David’s beloved dog, our pet Corgi.  To say that he loved God more told me that David is beginning to “get it,” that no matter how much we may love our pets, or our family and friends, loving God needs to come first.  God is the Source of all love after all, the very reason we can pour out our affection on those closest to us in the first place.

Sometimes we forget that.  I know I do.  The other day I was talking to a friend about heaven, and she said it bothered her to think that some of the people she cared most about might not be there.  How, she wondered, could she be happy in heaven if they weren’t there?  I’ve wondered that myself.  While I was researching my book, Who Goes There? A Cultural History of Heaven and Hell, I discovered that thinking in such a way wasn’t always the case in American history.  In previous centuries American Christians had a decidedly God-centered view of heaven—to be there was to enjoy the presence of God forever in unbroken, unsullied fellowship.  That was the goal.  In the last century that focus shifted, until the aspiration of the hereafter was to be in a perfect place with our loved ones, including our deceased pets.  God often seemed incidental. 

Dr. David Jeremiah addressed this recently as he pointed out something I never really noticed before in the interaction between Jesus and one of the thieves as they were dying.  After the latter acknowledged that Jesus was who He claimed to be, Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:43) I always focused on the thief going to heaven, but Pastor Jeremiah zeroed in on the “you will be with me” part.  The important thing about heaven is being with Jesus.  Likewise, when Paul was comforting afflicted believers in Thessalonica, he assured them that Jesus would return and take His own to heaven.  “And so,” he concluded, “we will be with the Lord forever.” (1 Thessalonians 4:18)

I think it’s natural for us to want to be in heaven with our loved ones, but it’s more important to keep in mind something Americans often forget.  Heaven is for those who love and follow Jesus, and the main object of being there is to enjoy Him forever.  Hopefully I can teach my child well, about that, too.

My five-year-old son David is learning about the Olympic games in school.  As he colored a template of the Olympic flag, I told him some stories about games from my youth, including how I was so taken by the Swedish skier Ingemar Stenmark that I even named my first car “Stenny” after him.  Then I remembered the Torchlighters video that we have of the acclaimed Scottish runner Eric Liddell, whose devotion to God was even greater than it was to his sport.  Liddell, who competed in the Paris games in 1924, refused to participate in the 100 meter race, his specialty, because it was to be held on a Sunday, a day which he observed as a holy period of worship and rest.  Despite the public outcry against him, Liddell stuck to his principles, and he went on to break the world record in the 400 meter race, for which he won a gold medal.  He also finished third with a bronze in the 200.

Unlike many athletes, Liddell did not cash in on his ringing success, but instead followed in his parents’ footsteps as a missionary to his birthplace, China.  When the Japanese invaded that nation during World War II, Liddell sent his wife and two daughters (Mrs. Liddell was pregnant with their third daughter) to safety in Canada, her homeland.  In 1943, he was interred at a Japanese prison camp, where he labored selflessly as a teacher and coach to the children, and a caretaker of the older people.  In 1945, he died of a brain tumor in the camp, which was liberated a short time later.

David was moved to tears by Liddell’s story, and we talked about what a special man he was.  Later in the evening, after my son was in bed, I caught the last 15 minutes of a favorite childhood movie, “National Velvet.”  Elizabeth Taylor starred as an 11 year-old girl who won the British Grand National on her beloved, but unknown, horse.  Afterwards, offers came pouring in to tour the world with her acclaimed steed, but Velvet Brown said all she wanted to do was return to school and continue with life as usual.  Her father was upset, but her mother, who had swum the English Channel in her youth then went on to become a housewife and mother, encouraged Velvet, saying there is an appointed time for everything.  Sometimes, we just need to move on.  Eric Liddell lived that belief.

There are seasons in all of our lives, some long, some short, some in between.  May you, with grace, find the places that God has appointed for you in His time.