Saturday, June 1, 2013

Sons and Signatures (Father and Son pt. 2)

Comparison--Justin is now 32 years old. 
My tiny office would be on the northwest corner of the sanctuary at New Life Baptist Church. The building would rest on what was called an "Alaskan slab," six-bag cement reinforced with heavy rebar and poured onto a bed of pea-stone several feet thick. Before it completely set-up, I brought our two sons, Justin and Josh, to the corner that would be my office. I wanted their handprints in the concrete for posterity. Justin enthusiastically pressed little hand into the wet cement; he thought it was really cool. Josh--who, by the way is now a very gifted ceramic potter--fought me at every step of the process.

Later on, when it was time for the carpet to be laid down, I cut it on two-sides around the prints, didn't put down any glue, and tucked the edge of the carpet under the baseboard. For me, it was a Holy Ground spot. During our stay there I pulled that carpet back many, many times and prayed for the future of my sons and our family--which would eventually include Miss Meagan--and a plethora of other things that a young pastor frets over!

Shortly after John and Jane let us into the building, we asked if we could go back to my old office.

"There is something special there we would like to check out." I told them.

"It's not an office any more. It's not even locked. It's empty." John and Jane said, simultaneously. "

Nobody, other than my family, knew what lay beneath the rose colored rug. Justin and I were a little anxious, as we wondered if it had been discovered and the carpet was glued down. Stepping through the doorway, our eldest son immediately knelt down, felt for the seams, and pulled back the carpet. First, the little-boy hands appeared, then the date: 7-20-85, then the names I had scratched in with a nail. Justin burst into laughter and amazement. I went tear-blind. John and Jane just gasped.


Twenty-eight years ago Justin and his baby brother Josh had placed little hands in the soft cement. At the time, Justin had barely taken five laps around the sun, and Josh, barely three. But there they were--indelible signatures--a moment in time unchanged by twenty-eight years.



Enjoying the Adventure,

Bill Shorey




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