“Papa, I just can’t get the f-word out of my head! Ahh!!” cried my seven-year-old son, Hudson.
His frustration was mounting. I could see anxiety rising in his young heart. His bright eyes were now clouded with fear. A tear trickled down his warm cheek.
He reached out and placed his small hand on my shoulder, and whimpered, “I don’t know what to do… please, Papa. Help me.”
Does your life resemble the spinning cycle of a washing machine right now? Are you weary, busy, or worried today? Perhaps you’ve had a tension headache this week about a job situation or family crisis? Maybe you’re chewing off your finger nails while you survey the latest piece of national chaos?
When I was just a wee bit taller than a grasshopper, I learned to love God and His people with my father, Charles.
I will never forget…
Family. I love the sound of that word. Why? Because I believe the word family embodies the picture of God’s plan for His people. Are we perfect? No. Do we always get along? Sadly, no. Do we have occasional squabbles and disagreements? Sure….
Family fights run in my family tree. Yes, you heard that right. A schism runs in the veins of my family line.
Long, long ago… the fabled story is told, but tis’ true, the Brezina clan arrived in northern Michigan from the faraway province of Bohemia (now part of the present day Czech Republic).
The air was bone-chillingly cold and the wind might have bitten right through your knit hat, if you had stepped outside. The winter season had stretched long and dark across West Michigan and Stephanie and I were beginning to sense the cabin fever syndrome setting in around our little bungalow….