Getting Ready For The Last Review
In early summer he said, "On Wednesday night we had a little situation develop. Kevin made some comment about having a goal of being 'cool.' He defined 'cool' as wearing his cap backward, having baggy clothes with an open shirt, maybe an earring, and shooting pool. We talked a while, telling him how other parents would not want their boys around someone with those goals in life."
Early September brought another conversation with this same father. "The first week of school is over, but Kevin still doesn't pick up and do much on his own. We try to lead him--even push him--but he resists a great deal. His main goals, at least as they are expressed in his conversation, are to be a good ball player, to drive an expensive car, to wear silk shirts, and to have a certain kind of hair cut.
"My son has tremendous potential, and his capacity for doing good is limitless. But the desire to have things easy is causing him to stumble."
There's more, but you get the idea. This father is hurting over the destructive course his son has set and his inability to coerce positive changes. Perhaps you've been there.
That father has a legitimate desire for his son to set his sights on worthy goals and doggedly pursue them. Do we really need more "cool" athletes, more glamour, or more folks who want to be in the limelight? Wouldn't diligence, humility, and gratefulness make Kevin a better man, for time and eternity?
But Kevin isn't completely to blame. His choices are a natural consequence of an entertainment-oriented culture which pays a fellow more for two hours of swatting at a ball with a stick and running in circle than Kevin's father makes in a year. And we feed that culture by how we spend our time and our money.
In The Spy, a Revolutionary War novel (1821) by James Fenimore Cooper, Harvey Birch is to be hanged for treason. On the night before his execution, Harvey's guard encourages him to ponder his life and get his thoughts in order. "It can reckon but little, in the great account, where a man parades his thoughts for the last review, so that he finds them fit to pass the muster of another world."
Before it's too late, it would be wise for Kevin--and those of us who have his leanings--to consider this: just beyond the horizon of today lies another world. And when we parade our own thoughts--the very ones that have energized our daily dreams and pursuits--for the last review, will they pass muster? Or will we see that all we have worked so hard to attain has no more substance than the morning mist?
Copyright 2001 James McAlister
Comments
Post a Comment