I have a good friend that eats, let’s just say, like a raccoon trapped for a fortnight in a dumpster behind Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. A fortnight, for you ahistorical troglodytes, is two weeks. Now that you know that, you can’t wait to use it in a sentence at the water cooler at work, the local construction site, or prison commissary, wherever you may find yourself next. If your friends are like most of mine, they won’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about. Come to think of it, that’s the reaction I get most of the times I open my pie hole. Back to my friend. I’ve often remarked while watching him plow through a kid’s yogurt, Slim Jim, and a bag of FUNYUNS® that he eats like a seven year old would if you gave them a sawbuck and sent them into the local quickie mart to buy lunch. Also, my friend wouldn’t hesitate to wash this gastrointestinal blitzkrieg down with a Yoo-hoo. Personally, I can’t fathom the thought that any adult would drink Yoo-hoo on purpose, but’s that’s a debate for another day. The reason I throw seven year olds under the proverbial nutrition bus is twofold: A number one, as my daughter would say, is that they are usually lighter than most adults, ergo, easier to throw. B number two, they aren’t likely to read my musings, and even if they did, I’m fairly certain I could hold my own against one if we were to resort to throwing hands.
Seven year olds, or most children for that matter, aren’t known for their reason, intellect, or knowledge. Come to think of it, I’m sure we could all easily name an adult or a dozen that can be described in similar terms. Kids operate on a severely limited understanding of the cause and effect of their decisions or actions, simply because they don’t know any better. When I was much younger, I worked at a fast food restaurant. One of my genius coworkers discovered, to our delight and fascination, that when spraying bottles of some unknown chemicals together, the resultant effect was a misty smoke. When even a scintilla was inhaled, it was as though every brain cell in our woefully under-developed cerebral cortexes was kicked in the shin. With a steel-toed golf shoe, if such a shoe exists. Terrible illustration, but work with me. It seemed like a good idea, right up to the point that it didn’t.
Seven year olds, like every other kid, need supervision, guidance, and people to coach them up, lest they be left to their own devices. This principle applies to adults as well, inasmuch as nobody knows everything. A lack of self-control and destructive actions are inevitable to the Ill-informed and barely disciplined. Scripture does not lack admonition as it relates to wisdom and maturity, rightly recognizing our need for both (Eph. 4:13-15). We are called by the Lord to keep each other from eating like raccoons or inhaling poisonous fumes, figuratively speaking. We are at the end of the day our brother’s keeper (Gen. 4:9).
(Click “Stand on Firmer Ground” for a deeper look into A Seven Year Old With Money)