Its hard to believe that school has started once again. It is even harder for Susan and me to believe that our oldest child Taylor turned twenty-nine years old last week.
Around twenty years ago I was cleaning up after a summer of camp, preparing for school to begin. Taylor and Kinsey were with me and I told them to play in the gym while I moved things from one location to another. I also told them to ‘get along’ as they were at the age where brothers and sisters argue a lot.
They went into the equipment room and decided to build a little fort inside a box that held basketballs. The sturdy wooden box was about five feet long, two feet wide, and three feet tall. After removing all the balls, Taylor and Kinsey found some gymnastic mats to put in the box to make it more comfortable. As I walked by the closed door on the way to another building, I heard the pleasant sound of children playing happily together. “That’s the way it should be,” I thought. “I wonder how long it will last?”
As I returned for another load, Taylor and Kinsey had crawled into the box and were getting comfortable. At some point, they wondered what it would be like to close the lid. Carefully, they lowered the heavy wooden top and when it settled, the latch fell and hooked perfectly on the little part that holds the lock. When they tried to push open the lid, they could not; brother and sister were trapped.
Shortly after the ‘imprisonment’, I walked again past the closed door of the equipment room eager to complete my work. This time I heard young voices yelling. “I knew it,” I thought. “My kids can’t be together five minutes without arguing. They will just have to work it out themselves.”
A few minutes later I returned and heard even louder voices. “They are still yelling at each other,” I said to myself. “I just don’t have time to deal with it,” so I kept walking with my mind on my mission. A few minutes later, I returned with another load and this time I heard blood-curdling screams. “What is going on?” I dropped everything and opened the door. I’ll never forget the picture of a small hand reaching through a tiny crack between the lid and the box. I rushed over, unlatched the hook and my sweat-drenched kids burst out.
“Thank you, Lord!” Taylor cried. Kinsey fell into my arms sobbing. Later, they told me they really thought they had limited oxygen and were going to die. They said they prayed together and were kind to one another. The screams, of course, were cries for help. When I unlatched the box, they experienced salvation.
I’ve told this story many times over the years as an example of our need for Jesus. “The cords of death entangled me, the anguish of the grave came upon me; I was overcome by trouble and sorrow. Then I called on the name of the Lord: “O Lord, save me!” (Psalm 116:3-4) What a Savior we have! He is strong and loving and more than able to rescue us from any trap. Let us tell His story and proclaim His good news: “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Romans 10:13)
“The Lord is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion. The Lord protects the simplehearted; when I was in great need, He saved me…
How can I repay the Lord for all His goodness to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord.” (Psalm 116:6, 12, 13)