FATHER AND SON

[Raising memories from January 4, 2014 at 1:05pm]

For the very first time in his twelve-year existence, my son John Caleb did finally attend the Keswick Conference. Keswick is an annual year-ending event for the youth gathered together not for anything trivial, but for very important stuff to be nailed in their skull like erasing notion that being young is being immortal.

 

I totally understand such kind of feeling being experienced by the young because I felt the same way when I was their age.  When my tender mind totally believed no way bad things would happen along the way since a young life is everything positive.

The youth are the hope of this land and they are the very ones to reign our tomorrow. The way we raise them today will define our future whether it would be joy or sorrow.  We can never be absolutely certain if someday they will become the man or woman we wanted them to be.  Only God knows for sure because we never know as well what these kids’ own choices for their future will be.

It’s pretty scary if they would go left to become acolytes of the universally dreaded Taliban, or swerve right to be an ever willing cannon fodder and sacrificial pawn of the Americans. Let’s just pray these daring youth would choose the path to everyone has also unveiled, neither to the left nor to the right but the straight and narrow road which is the one less traveled.

But to head this way is not for us to decide for them to be taken, as we can do nothing but only to give our best as many are called but few are chosen (Matt. 22:14)).  After having been invited by other young people to attend the Keswick, as what my son had told me, without a second thought he agreed readily, but I did already suspect the main reason for such willingness on his part was none other than his weakness or wickedness: Jollibee.

As on the night before their group departure, he sweetly approached me while I grumblingly helped packing his things along with his mother, I could sense his full conviction and belief our consent would be automatic when he begged for Jollibee’s budget for his breakfast, lunch and dinner.

I exploded naturally because Keswick is a five-day live-in conference and all he wanted was to add more mammon to Jollibee’s gazillion, aside from the fact that if I’d grant his wish the rest of us couldn’t eat for a week due to his ambition of acquiring bad cholesterol and lifetime poison. But as what we used to do, young people are born to argue. My son also tried to plead his case, and suggested, to buck the trend he could also try “McDo.”

That’s the young today. Just like most of us yesterday. I only wish Caleb would no longer argue next time if he doesn’t know his further argument would be worse than his first point just for the purpose to disagree. Like a father who was so angry because his basketball-crazy son was not included in varsity team due to the boy’s poor eyesight thus the father begged the school for a remedy:

Make his son the referee.