Life Lessons from Dumbo

May 25, 2014.Reading time 4 minutes.

As a child of the 70’s, I can remember trips from Louisville to Denver every summer with nothing but Auto Bingo to keep us happy. Those were long trips. I’m sure Kansas is a fine place, but the interstate roadsides were vast wastelands to a hot, bored kid. My lovely wife drives a Honda Odyssey and we recently took it on vacation. The van has a DVD player in it for rear entertainment, which totally blows my mind. What I wouldn’t have given to have that in 1974!

The kids decided to watch only Disney classic movies on the trip and chose Dumbo first. I love that movie and actually enjoyed listening to it from the driver’s seat. Most of the others lost too much of the story when I was blind to the action. I could follow Dumbo quite well while the miles rolled by.

The crows are my favorite part of the movie. While I understand the regrettable stereotype that some associate with them, I see them as deep and compelling characters. When I See an Elephant Fly might be my favorite Disney song. Although unintended by writers, their scene with Dumbo shows me two important lessons.

1. I believe people (and possibly crows) can change. When we first meet them, the crows are sarcastic and mock our hero’s dilemma until Timothy dresses them down for their behavior. Their response is one of true contrition and remorse as evidenced by the fact that they soon teach Dumbo to fly. The dialogue is priceless:

Crow: [as Timothy and Dumbo walk away sadly] Hey brother, now wa-wa-wait a minute. You don’t hafta leave feelin’ like that. We done seen the light. You boys is okay.

Timothy Q. Mouse: Please. You’ve done enough.

Crow: But we’s all fixin’ to ‘hep ya. Ain’t that the truth, boys?

Great line: “We done seen the light.” I once lived in darkness, but praise God, I saw the light. Light is available to anyone. It takes only a sliver of light to start a radical change.

2. I believe faith is more important than ability. No one really had any idea if Dumbo could fly. There was quite a risk in pushing him off a ledge with only a feather and his ears. But Dumbo believed that if he had the feather, he could fly.

Likewise, there is a point at the end of my ability where I need to trust in God’s plan for my life and His reckless love for me. Letting go of the ledge is incredibly hard, but success happens, not holding onto the ground for dear life, but out in the air with the feather. When He has promised to join me in flight, why would I stay on the ground?

Hebrew’s 13:5 says, “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.”

As I write this, I confess there are ledges that fear has me clinging to. I’m prayerfully inching closer to the edge.

What ledge are you holding onto?

Father of Nations – Terrible Babysitter

April 13, 2014.Reading time 4 minutes.

I like to think I was a good sitter for the kids when they were little. I mean, I’m dad, so I should be able to provide for their basic needs on occasion. I remember a particular Saturday when our first was a toddler. Instead of playing the usual dolls and house (which I was excellent at, by the way), I decided that her tummy, back, and arms made the perfect canvas for a jungle mural. It seemed like a good idea at the time. We drew and drew until elephants, lions, and zebras were marching all over her flesh. Great, giggly, tickly fun.

Great fun until Mom came home and the little fink sold me out. My lovely wife hadn’t gotten two steps into the kitchen before the scamp had pulled her shirt up to reveal the masterpiece. I don’t recall if it was the classic grocery bags hitting the floor or not, but her fury stretched across the room and melted part of my ear. Something about her perfect, beautiful baby looking like a tattooed Harley rider.

That was the day I received a fairly detailed list of appropriate activities for times when mommy was away. I also learned the difference between permanent and washable markers.

That was a “first child” thing. She’s mellowed about keeping them in pristine condition and maybe I’ve matured a little. Either way, I pale in comparison to the worst babysitter ever. Some of you look for deep meaning in Bible stories and I applaud you. My infantile mind reads some of the odd ones and starts playing Paul Harvey – looking for The Rest of the Story.

When I read Genesis 22, I am awed by Abraham’s obedience. To listen and follow God at the expense of the one thing he had waited a hundred years for, his baby boy, is incredible. For so long he had begged and schemed for a son, but couldn’t have one with Sarah until he completely gave up his own plans and got to a place where he put his utter reliance on God and not himself. Only God.

We know how the story goes. Just before he offers Isaac as the sacrifice, God shows him a ram to use as a substitute, sparing his son’s life. Can you imagine the sheer joy? Can you picture the relief of his heart? Do you think Isaac flinched when the knife went up? Do you wonder at what Sarah said when they got home?

Seriously, how do you relay that to your wife?

“Hi Honey, we’re home.”

“Oh, I missed you two so much. How was the camping trip?”

“It was fantastic. You’re never gonna believe what God did. First, he told me to sacrifice Isaac. So I built this altar and put him on it. Just as the knife was about to come down…”

“YOU DID WHAT???”

The Bible omits that part of the story. But I wonder sometimes.

I wonder what things I hold too dear to put on the altar. I certainly wouldn’t put my kids on there. (Heck, I won’t even draw on them anymore.) But there are other things too precious to me that I hold back. I know it – and so does God. Lord help me to have more faith and obedience like Old Abraham. I just pray I’m a better babysitter.