Gratitude?

I heard the story this way: One evening a man was taking a stroll down the sidewalk in his neighborhood. As he walked along, all of a sudden a rubber ball bounced over a fence and landed at his feet. He picked it up as a little girl came running toward him and stuck out her hand, obviously wanting her ball back. Trying to prompt the girl to say “Please” or “Thank You” he said, “Well, what’s the magic word?” With a frown on her face, the child shouted, “Now!”

We witness this story every day.

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What the World Needs Now

Editor’s note: We are excited to welcome Wade Bibb to Foundling House. Wade is the Senior Pastor at Central Baptist Bearden in Knoxville and a one-time professor of religion at Carson-Newman University. He is also an avid runner and is in such great shape that the rest of us wonder about our own efforts at exercise. Furthermore, he does not drink coffee, yet still manages to get things accomplished.

I am not a mother.

I have a mother. I’m married to a mother, but I am not a mother. I have seen the job and the responsibilities, and I don’t want to be a mother. Actually, I’m a little a bit afraid of most mothers. It’s as if, once they have raised children, they know there’s nothing else that can ever really scare them.

I’m not a mother, and it isn’t just a biological issue—I know I can’t do the job. One Sunday morning, while we were getting ready for church, my wife told our daughter Emily, five-years-old at the time, to go pick out what she wanted to take to church. Emily picked out four little horses to keep herself quiet and pacified. I told her that was a lot and that she might just need to take two of them. Not sure about the instructions here mother had given, I said, “Let’s go ask mommy what she thinks.” Emily said, “Yeah, you don’t know anything do you.”

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