After forty years or so of frustration, I finally picked up a new skill. I tried pointer fingers in, to no avail, pinkies in, to no avail, double fingers in, to no avail. I tried the hollow fists method, to no avail. But finally, I developed the ability to create a shrill, swift and invasive whistle. I use it to call my dog, and, perhaps with some level of controversy, I use it to call my children. When it’s time for supper, I use it and they come. When I leave Bible study, that whistle is the message to my children that it is time to go. I walk toward the car, and soon enough the children meet me there, while calling their “goodbyes” over their shoulders to their friends. I admit, I feel a little awkward, sort of like Christopher Plummer in The Sound of Music. On the other hand, I marvel at the grace of God in the lives of my children, that it works.

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