Red-Metal-Bunk-Bed-Revival...

Last night after arriving home from Vacation Bible School, Pamela and I were tucking kids into bed. We put the girls to bed first... always first... then headed to the room of our sons. I read their nightly devotion and was getting ready to pray with them when I remembered something. One of the volunteers at VBS had told me that they thought they heard Caleb, my oldest son, say a bad word... the "female dog" kind of bad word!

Wondering where he picked that word up and horrified that my precious, innocent little son was capable of such a word, I began to ask him if he had said any bad words that night at church. He shook his little head back and forth indicating that he had not, but his face went flush with exposure to his forgotten sin telling me that he had.

I pressed again, "Caleb, did you say a bad word tonight?" My voice was soft, but sincere. He then began to stammer around and asked me, "What word?" So I said, "The word that starts with b-i-." He was truly puzzled and didn't know the word. I could tell. I gently but firmly asked him for the truth, "Did you say any bad words tonight at all?" His younger brother wanted to interject on his big brothers transgression, but I halted his input - and then Caleb's face turned flush again indicating to me something had been said. He responded, "I did say one word."

In dramatic shock (for affect) I asked, "Caleb, what did you say???"

"The Lord's Name in vain," was the only response he could make. I was shocked because I had expected some other word. Wanting to make sure he knew what he was talking about, I asked him, "What exactly did you say, son?"

"Oh my G-d!" was his reply again with a flushed-face and nervousness.

I turned a quick glance toward Pamela somewhat relieved that I wouldn't have to re-enact the scene from "A Christmas Story" with bars of soap and a phone call to some unsuspecting parent, but I also spotted an open opportunity for a lesson.

"Now, Caleb, you know that's one of the commandments right? And we're not supposed to take God's name in vain, right?

"Yes, sir."

"Well, son, should we pray and ask God for forgiveness?" He affirmed that we should and I said, "You're going to have to lead this one, okay?"

I grabbed his hand and his brother's hand as well, who had been watching in quiet wonder that his big brother may or may not about to be getting a spanking... he just wasn't sure at this point. He hoped for the former.

What happened next caught both Pamela and I off our guards. As the three Hitt boys all held hands forming a triangle of support, our little lesson was about to transform into a "come-to-Jesus-revival." Caleb began to pray and he became overtaken in heart felt emotion where he couldn't hardly get the words out as he prayed, "Please God forgive me for taking Your..." then he broke into tears, "...name in vain. I'm so sorry, God."

I shot another quick glance at Pamela and both of us were so struck by the deep sincerity of his prayer and repentance that we both were near the point of tears ourselves. Choking the tears back, I began to reassure Caleb that God had forgiven him and that his sins would never be remembered anymore. I told him how proud I was of him and that God was forming him into a great son for His kingdom. I pressed even further by asking him if he believed God had forgiven him, and with a slight smile he nodded in agreement.

Who had expected such deep emotion to be felt by an eight year old boy over such an innocent thing?

The whole atmosphere of the room had changed. Pamela and I went from being on the fast track of getting kids into bed so we could get some peace and quiet ourselves into feeling God's presence surrounding their red-metal-bunk-bed.

Just then, Caleb's younger brother, Zeke began to confess that he also had said a bad word that night. He told me that he had told someone to "shut up!" I asked Zeke if he knew that was wrong, with a smile in my voice, and asked him if he wanted to pray too. He did and he knelt there on the top bunk of their red-metal-bunk-bed and asked God to forgive his sins as well.

What started out as a good night devotion, turned into a red-metal-bunk-bed-revival-of-repentance for two small boys concerned with pleasing a God they are just getting to know.

Just like that, two hearts were changed that night... but they belonged to Pamela and myself.

God had done a mighty work of convicting two of his children... again, me and Pamela. The scriptures say that a child shall lead them. And in the midst of our red-metal-bunk-bed-revival there were no physical manifestations of healing, no bodies falling to the floor, no 3 pole tents, no offerings received in spirited-coercion, but I stood there profoundly humbled by my own lack of sincerity. My heart had been renewed in this little revival of sorts.

Oh, Father, that my prayers would be soaked in tears of child-like sincerity instead of some spiritual-disciplined-obligation to pray to you, as needing to fill some prayer quota for the day. Bring more bunk-bed-revivals into the lives of us, your church. My how we need them... .