Strong Men Of God

Last updated on: July 23, 2011 at 1:48 am by Tara Edelschick

Strong Men Of God 2011-07-23T01:48:07-06:00 Tara Edelschick

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Our local Salvation Army. Click on the picture to see all of the great work they do.

At dinner a few night ago, we discussed what to do with the money will will make at our Back To Simplicity Garage Sale. (Start here and read forward to learn about our efforts.) The boys decided, entirely on their own, that they would give half of the money to the Salvation Army in our neighborhood, spend a quarter of the money on Kathiana’s going away party, and spend the final quarter to buy more BeyBlades, their favorite toy over the past year.

We were proud of how they allocated their potential loot, but noted that it’s easy to be generous with money you don’t actually have and when you assume we will be making hundreds of dollars.

Zach keeps holding things up to discuss pricing with me: “We should sell this for $30.”

“I don’t think that anyone is going to pay $30 for a used wallet, honey.”

“Okay, then $20.”

Finally, I worry that we will not make any money at all. Tonight at dinner, Zach leaned over and whispered to me, “Mom. Of course we will give things away for free to anyone in our family.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.”

“That means Christina, and Syndi, and Atta, and Kathi, and Alfonso, and Kristen, and Josh and Becca, and Marnie.”

I nodded my head earnestly as he went on, adding more and more names, none of them people who are actually in our family. Instead, they are all people who have lived with us at one time or another, and I was reminded again how much more expansive the boys’ view of family is than mine.

He continued, adding all of the people with whom we share a driveway. “And Mark, and Betty and Marty, and Dave and Clay…”

When Zach was a baby, an African woman from church would come up to us, and with a heavy accent pronounce, “Strong man of God,” as she lay her hand on his forehead and gave it a prayerful shove. When I asked her why she was doing this, she told me, “We must call out the truth in faith.”

Many days I lose sight of that. “I am raising men, not test scores,” I must remind myself. On those days, I think how much easier it would be to raise corn. Today, catching a glimpse of my strong man of God, I’m glad I don’t get a choice.

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