Adventure Pants

The school year has ended and the hallowed halls of our educational system are filled with shrieks of laughter, high-fives, and random acts of petty vandalism as teachers vacate their buildings, staff meetings, and schedules that have imprisoned them for the past nine months.

Adventure is in the air! What should they do first (that is, what should they do AFTER they sleep in)?

When I was in grade school, I had a pair of tan pants. These were heavy-duty pants; tough enough to take a beating, but comfortable enough to lounge around in. The only thing was, when I was wearing those pants, I never lounged around. They were special “adventure pants”. I’d pull them on Saturday mornings when I knew my friends Danny and Kenny were coming over. The house next to us had a backyard that had an enormous kennel; behind it was a large wooded patch that was hidden from view. Visiting it with my brother and friends was always a special adventure. Once they’d arrived and we had secured the appropriate supplies (ropes, flashlights, fireworks, snacks, etc.) we’d hightail it to the seclusion of my dad’s workshop, which bordered the “woods” and screened our entry into it.

My dad built this workshop in the westernmost corner of our yard out of what appeared to be random pieces of lumber, flooring and plywood. That it stood for as long as it did is a testament to my dad’s ingenuity at cobbling together the unlikeliest of materials to solve a problem. Duct tape and baling wire were never in short supply here. You entered the workshop through a wooden gate into sort of a courtyard (or junkyard if you asked my mother). It was here that we raised chickens until the local ordinances evicted them. Leaning against the fence on the left were large slabs of plywood under a roof. To the right, lumber, PVC, and metal pipes rested (and rusted) under another structure.

Straight ahead was the three-room workshop in all its musty glory. It consisted of a supply room filled with hundreds of boxes that had a window overlooking the aforementioned “woods” next door. Next to that was the main workshop area where he kept his tools, his vise, and assorted hardware. I never could figure out how he found anything in that mess, but then again, my “piling” systems defy logic as well. Finally, we had what I always thought of as “the garage” where the big and dangerous stuff (like a gas-powered tiller) was kept.

With Danny and Kenny in tow, we’d climb over, around and through the various rooms, never knowing what we might find. Sometimes we’d cross through the window into our neighbor’s “woods” and explore. Other times, we’d get on the roof and utilize a pair of steel poles as a flimsy bridge to crawl from the roof of one structure to another. Every time I reflect on my childhood, I wonder how we all survived to adulthood.

Those were adventures!

Where do we seek for adventure today? Do we go to movies or watch TV to live vicariously through others? Do we go to new places or try to meet new people to escape the familiar daily grind? Why are we so enamored with “the exotic”?
How many adventures await us from within the daily grind if we would only open our eyes to see them?

What if we lived our lives as if every day was brimming with adventure? Even washing dishes or preparing dinner can take on new meaning as we live out our calling to serve each other.

Where might some of your adventures await this week?

John 13:1-17
Before the Passover celebration, Jesus knew that his hour had come to leave this world and return to his Father. He had loved his disciples during his ministry on earth, and now he loved them to the very end. It was time for supper, and the devil had already prompted Judas, son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus.

Jesus knew that the Father had given him authority over everything and that he had come from God and would return to God. So he got up from the table, took off his robe, wrapped a towel around his waist, and poured water into a basin. Then he began to wash the disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel he had around him.

When Jesus came to Simon Peter, Peter said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”

Jesus replied, “You don’t understand now what I am doing, but someday you will.”

“No,” Peter protested, “you will never ever wash my feet!”

Jesus replied, “Unless I wash you, you won’t belong to me.”

Simon Peter exclaimed, “Then wash my hands and head as well, Lord, not just my feet!”

Jesus replied, “A person who has bathed all over does not need to wash, except for the feet, to be entirely clean. And you disciples are clean, but not all of you.” For Jesus knew who would betray him. That is what he meant when he said, “Not all of you are clean.”

After washing their feet, he put on his robe again and sat down and asked, “Do you understand what I was doing? You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and you are right, because that’s what I am. And since I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s feet.

I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you. I tell you the truth, slaves are not greater than their master. Nor is the messenger more important than the one who sends the message. Now that you know these things, God will bless you for doing them.

NLTse