Fences
”Fences?” you ask incredibly. “Why would you value fences
as what kept your childhood free and safe?”
“No, really!” I assert. “I remember the fences.” In fact,
when we built our backyard fence, it couldn’t be just any kind; it had to be
the one I remembered, where we climbed on the angled brace and watched our
world from the safety of the fence.
Not every child has the luxury of growing up in a large
fenced area, complete with three houses, numerous outbuildings, one mom, two
sisters, a set of grandparents, an aunt and uncle and three cousins, all set on
three double lots. We rarely lacked for something to do. The more bored we
became, the more creative the solutions became. We did take music lessons, do
chores, care for chickens and a few pets, but overall our time was plenteous
when it came to running the yards.
Grandpa built the fences. The ones in back were higher
and solid. This side was exposed to an access road, warehouses, railroad and
roundhouse where Grandpa had spent his life working. Grandpa knew who would be
on the other side of that fence and so he built accordingly. He did ,however,
include that angled support. We climbed on it and watched the unsavory and the
businessmen, loafers and workers pass by, yet we were safe because of the
fence. I don’t remember being stopped from climbing the fence and perching on
the rail. We were on our side of the fence and we were safe.
The front yard fences were lower and picket style. Each
house had a partial fence in the front yard defining the space between each
house but the backyards were pretty accessible from one house to the next.
These fences did not have a purpose in my view. I could not jump them like my
sister and cousin in a game of chase so I had to lose, give up or attempt one
more time with a scraped leg and torn hem. These fences were not important for
safety or freedom.
The outside fences on the other hand were boundaries that
we knew not to mess with. If one of us decided to go out of the fence or
someone unknown came inside the fence there was an instant grip of emergency
and fear. All day long people walked by, drove by and yet we played free and
unharmed. Those fences created a safe place to work, play and grow up.
Did we ever violate the fence? Like most children, we
sometimes had evil ideas and intents. Throwing objects and words at neighbors
and strangers was not safe just because we were behind the fence. But then we knew that.
Eventually we
learned how to walk to school and to town. Yet we learned that home was the
safe place. In high school I remember walking home and being followed by a
questionable character through the railroad underpass walkway. My quick exit up
the side of the hill and the slam of the gate latch behind me was a moment I
will never forget. I was safe inside of the fence and free from the danger of
the predator.
The scripture says in John 17:
14 I have given them thy word; and the
world hath hated them, because they are not of the world, even as I am not of
the world.
15 I pray not that thou shouldest take
them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil.
16 They are not of the world, even as I
am not of the world.
17 Sanctify them through thy truth: thy
word is truth.
(KJV)
And so, parents,
I ask you not to be embarrassed by the fences but teach your children the value
of godly fences through your values, teachings and living. Let them see you
operate within the safety of spiritual authority. Let them see you uphold
spiritual leadership. And let them see the fence of accountability is one of
life’s greatest freedoms and protections they can place in their lives. Maybe
one of them will look back and say, “Build the fence like the one I remember.”
