Children of Promise

Some Christians have a prophetic gift.  They can hear clearly what the Spirit of God is
saying to the church.  Sometimes they can even see into the future.  One Sunday morning
we had a dedication service for some of our youngest children.  This is like Christening or
infant baptism but consists simply of the children being brought to the front of the church by
the parents while the church leaders and other people pray for them.  One man spoke a
prophecy over the children.
"These children who are being dedicated in this church today will challenge their parents
into a more godly way of living."  He spoke it over all the children, including our two,
Zebedee and Zane.

Nine years later I had given Zebedee an old CD player and a big plastic circular box of the
kind computer CDs are kept in, except that it was full of 100 of my old audio CDs.  Zebedee
and Zane sat listening to a CD by the preacher Duncan Campbell.
"We wouldn't go to the cinema, would we?  But we bring it into the drawing room.  
Somebody came to me one night after church and said that after listening to one of my
sermons in Fort William one of the brothers had smashed his television.  They asked,
'Why don't you take it back to the shop?'  He said, 'If it's not good for me, it's not good for
anybody else.'  They took the television into the back yard and they smashed it with a
hammer.  The television cost £150."  Zebedee turned off the CD and gave Zane a terrified
look.
"Zane, Mammy and Daddy have a television.  We must save our parents from this evil.
Help me carry the television into the back garden.  I'll get one of Daddy's hammers."
The sound of a big hammer smashing the 45 inch screen disturbed the whole street.  I
looked out of the upstairs window.
"That's not even paid for yet," I shouted.  "No pocket money or Christmas presents for the
next five years."  Kat stood in the garden and looked up at me.  "Have they found my old
CD by Duncan Campbell?" I asked.
"Which CD is that?" she asked.
"The one where someone destroys a television after listening to one of his sermons."
"They have."  As I took another look I could see a smashed set top box and
digital video recorder as well.
"Oh no!" I shouted.  "They've destroyed everything!  I can't even watch it on the portable."

A few weeks later Kat answered the door to a young couple.
"Hello," said the woman.  "We're interested in buying your house."
"Buying our house?" Kat asked, puzzled, and then screamed at the top of her voice,
"Zebedee!"  Zebedee came.  He was holding an old paperback book.
"Mammy, I advertised the house for sale on the internet."
"Why?"
"Daddy's book.  'Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger.'  We're going to sell this house and
buy a house in Pitsmoor."
"Pitsmoor?"
"Yes Mammy, that's the cheapest place in Sheffield to live.  We'll have a massive amount
of money left over and we'll give it to the earthquake fund."  Kat's face became pale and
she looked like she was going to faint.  "Are you ill Mammy?  Should I call an ambulance?"
I came downstairs and took the book from him.
"I did what it said," Zebedee explained, looking shocked and puzzled.  "I thought you'd be
pleased."
"Zebedee," said Kat, "your father doesn't always practice what he preaches."
"Why not?" asked Zebedee. "He should."
"Because it's too hard," I answered, "because I'm human."