Lessons from a Walkman

This past Saturday was the annual Bazaar at our church, and the boys and I headed out there around mid morning.  As soon as we got out of the car, Grant and Dylan went off on their own, and began their quest for “treasures.”  Grant inherited my love for rummaging through old things to uncover hidden jewels among the…how shall I put it?...refuse? 

A while later, as I was trying to decide if I should buy a really neat red-bottle-lamp, Grant came in the Christmas room excited and confused at the same time.  “Mom, come with me,” he said, pulling me away from the red lamp.  He took me into the “electronics” section of the “trash and treasures” room, and walked me to a table from where he got a small black thing.  “Look!  It’s a ‘walker’!”  As he said that, he placed the small gadget in my hands.  I looked at it, laughed and said to him, “Not a ‘walker,’ this is called a Walkman…” 

I continued to contemplate the thing as it took me back to my teenage years.  The feelings came back like a rushing flood.  Just like today, as a kid, I loved listening to music.  It was my escape from the trials of adolescence.  So ever since I was about 13 or 14 years old, my love affair with the Walkman began.  A Sony Walkman with a built in radio…sigh…that was my dream.  I prayed many times that God would let me have one, but I knew that there wasn’t even a slim chance of my parents ever buying me one.  So I began to save every penny I got.  I drooled every time I saw them in TV commercials or at the stores.  I saved and saved and eventually, years later, I was able to buy one that was on sale.  By the time I got it, however, there were “better” systems in the market which ended up forcing the Walkman to be discontinued.  I was cool for a very short time.  Now, a good 30 years later, my 9 year old son placed one in my hands.  I couldn’t help but smile. 

I said aloud how much I had wanted one when I was a kid, and my good friend Diana, who was the sales clerk at the “electronics department,” told me, “well, He knew He’d give you one.  He just didn’t say when He’d give it to you!”  I loved hearing that.  There was so much truth in that statement.  He is Faithful!  He answers all our prayers.  The thing is that sometimes the answers vary.  At times He responds with a good resounding “yes,” whereas some other times the answer is “no,” and other times yet, the answer is “wait.” 

O how hard it is to receive one of those, “not yet” kind of answers from God.  But, O how sweet it is the day He finally comes through.  O, how sweet the sight of the lost son/daughter/brother/sister/friend when he finally is found.  O, how sweet the revelation of His presence, and how refreshing the taste of His Living Water after coming out of a period of walking in the dessert.  O, how beautiful the sunlight breaking through the clouds after the storm.  O, how delightful the light when He pulls us out of the pit.   O, how sweet the sound of His voice calling out our name and telling us to come home.

“Sometimes He doesn’t remove the mountain because He wants us to climb it to meet Him at the top and see Him transfigured,” I read in a devotional some time ago.  The magnificence of His radiance that meets us at the top of that mountain is our reward for enduring and persevering.  The Lord is Faithful and all His promises are true.  His blessings are new everyday.  Even if sometimes He makes us wait, it is worth the wait.  It is in the wait where we develop Christian character and we grow as His beloved.  It is the wait what makes the encounter much sweeter, meaningful and unforgettable.

We paid a whole dollar for that mint-condition-old Walkman.  It works beautifully.  It has been a lot of fun teaching Grant about cassettes and the heart break of having your most precious tapes all tangled up in the player.  It has been fun reminiscing with my son about the longings of a teenage heart, and how sometimes we just have to wait a long time to get what we want.  Even Dylan is interested in it.  As a matter of fact, I just went in their room to check up on them, and I saw him asleep in his bed with the headphones on and the Walkman tucked in his hand just like my parents would see me every night, O so many years ago.  Does it get any sweeter than that?   The lessons from that old Walkman will probably continue for a while as I watch my sons fiddle with old tapes.  In the meantime, I will thank God for delayed answers to my prayers.