Losing Sight of the Reason

Today's post concerns something that happened last summer. I was diligently working away at my latest “project”, an old boat that I was “fixing up” for my boys and me to use last summer. I picked it up in a very "used" condition and promised my wife, “This will be a GREAT summer project for me and the boys (they were 7 and 9 years old at the time) to work on this summer.”

I enthusiastically launched into the project, enumerating the many things that needed to be done and working out a plan of attack. Over the next few days I worked diligently, utilizing every moment of daylight afforded to me each evening. I repaired the winch, installed a trailer jack, added new brake lights, performed various other minor repairs/replacements and rewired the whole thing. Finally, I got tags for the boat and trailer and decals to put the registration number in the appropriate place on the side of the boat.

I was pretty pleased with myself that evening as I surveyed my handiwork. While the project was not yet complete, the first phase would be complete as soon as the registration number was applied. My boys and I would then be able to take her out for the first of many fishing excursions that coming Saturday. I settled into the task, working diligently to insure that each number and letter was lined up perfectly.

That’s when it happened. My precious wife stopped by to check on my progress. “It looks great.” She said, and I beamed in pride. But she didn’t stop there. What she said next took the wind from my sails, “I thought this was a project that you AND the boys were going to be working on, together.”

As she walked away I sat for a moment and pondered the thought that, in my desire to make sure everything was done in precisely the right manner I had overlooked the entire “reason” for the project. This was supposed to be about spending some quality time with my boys. This was supposed to be about teaching them life skills that would be valuable to them as they grow into young men. Yet somehow, in the desire to do my best, I left behind the most important part…

About that time my seven year old walked up and asked to help. My first thought was, oh no! These need to be neat and straight. Everyone will see them. There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t let my 7 year old put them on… However, I was surprised to hear myself saying, “Sure son, you can help. Go ahead and put the next number on.”

For the next few moments my son and I spent some valuable time together which, in reality, was the impetus for taking on this project in the first place. We laughed and worked together as he endeavored to prove to me that he could, indeed, put the numbers on straight.

I learned a valuable lesson, again, that day. The time I spend with my children is precious and priceless. If you see my boys and me in our boat you might notice that some of the numbers are a little crooked or wrinkled but strangely, I’m OK with that. You see, we did this project together. And that matters more to me than the wrinkled and crooked letters. Furthermore, in the coming weeks we need to paint the old boat, install some seats, and finish a few other odds and ends things. I’m going to warn you ahead of time that the paint job isn’t going to be perfect because I plan on letting my boys do as much of the painting as they want to. After all, this is OUR project!

I also learned another lesson in all of this. Sometimes it’s so easy to get so caught up in the details of what we are doing that we lose sight of the purpose. Even in our ministry, if we aren’t careful, we can get so bogged down with the business of the church that we lose sight of what the church is all about. There is, after all, a compelling reason that motivated each of us to embrace the ministry. This morning I want to challenge you to take a few moments and reacquaint yourself with "why" you are doing what you do. Sometimes, in our desire to do our best, if we aren’t careful, we can leave out the most important part…