As a child and a youth, I remember
my absolute fascination with walkie talkies—
the thrilling possibility of talking to someone I couldn’t see
(wherever I was wherever they were)
without being limited to the length of a phone cord.
And I remember being enthralled by the range.
“Wow, this one has a five mile range.
This one, ten!”
Now I have a cell phone.
I used to go out,
alone or with friends,
and would have to borrow a pen from the waiter
to scribble notes on napkins,
because who remembered
to carry with them paper and pen all the time?
Now my iPad and my phone
are loaded with word processing apps.
I remember longing
to have music with me
wherever I was—
whatever I was doing,
and I remember saving money to buy a Walkman
and mixing music on cassette tapes—
90 minute ones seemed to work the best.
Now I have days worth of music on my iPod.
So I’m wondering if it’s fair to surmise
that what the children of one generation find intriguing—
what they imagine and play at—
is what they end up developing
that subsequent generations will take for granted.
So how do we intrigue children
with the possibility
of making the world a better place
beyond fun and games and convenience?
How do we invest them not in technological marvels,
but moral ones?
We better have some good stories to tell them.
And we do.
The Bible and church history are full of them—
stories of grace and wonder and love.
But are we?
Full of such stories?
And do we?
Do we tell them to our children?
The future depends on it.