The following appeared in a publication in 1998. i found it the other day, and thought it’d be fun to share. We have lots of friends who are now in college, so it seems to fit…

Our boys had some friends over the other night. (That sounds funny to me because it seems that only yesterday they were too young to know they even had friends!) It was a costume gathering the night before my least favorite night of the year, which usually falls on the last night or so of October. (I dont’ even like to mention the name–and to call it a holiday is a bit of a stretch too, don’t you think?) It was a cookout and hang out party, you might say.

At some point when the trampoline had been bounced, the treehouse climbed, the soccer ball kicked, the hot dogs and Pepsi consumed, the older kids (sixth graders) and the younger ones (fourth graders), too, found their own spaces as age groups and settled down for a nice chat.

A chat! What do they have to chat about!? i wanted to get close enough to…overhear? Or i’d at least need to be close enough to be able to answer some question that might come up or settle some dispute.

Before you could say “refrigerate pickles after opening” the older crowd was off to play moonlight soccer while the younger group went back to the trampoline.

As friends in high school, and later in college, a few of us used to sit in Marilou’s driveway and chat like that. Or not. Sometimes we just looked at the sky until one of us was struck by some profound thought, or profound need to visit the facilities. We felt connected as friends just because we’d been in the driveway together. I still feel that connection.

Jesus got away from the crowds and went up on a mountainside and sat down. Some of His friends joined Him. As they sat there on that mountainside, a few profound thoughts were planted in the hearts and minds of those simple men. “Blessed are you . . . ” he said.


Some real holidays are coming. One for being thankful, one for looking back on a time when God put on skin to come and connect with us. Meet Him in the driveway or wherever. But please, make the connection.

“And now, what is my hope? O Lord, my hope is in you.” (Psalm 39:8 RSV)

About Mike Pratt

Husband, father, entrepreneur, follower of Jesus, sometimes church planter . . .
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